Even Trash Has Its Uses
The day of the duel arrived.
The sparring ring within the Namgung Clan Estate was chosen as the venue. It was only natural, as no other suitable martial arena existed in the vicinity. However, to ensure fairness and prevent accidental skirmishes between the two factions, the number of clan spectators permitted to watch was strictly limited.
The duelists lined up side by side atop the raised ring.
Representing the Anhui Mo Clan were the four youths who had accompanied Mo Seok-heon. Standing for the Namgung Clan were Namgung Yun, Namgung Geol, Namgung Yeon, and Namgung In.
"I, Hong Jong, shall serve as the arbiter for this contest," announced the Beggars' Sect elder, stepping forward. "Whatever the grievances that brought you to this point, both clans have agreed to settle them through this duel. No matter the outcome, I pray the defeated accept their loss with grace, the victors show benevolence, and this dispute is brought to an amicable close."
Hong Jong glanced between the youths of both sides.
"Display your abilities to the fullest without reservation, but let there be no grievous injuries, if at all possible."
With that, the contest began.
First to step onto the sparring ring was Namgung In.
Though he had suffered a crushing defeat at Yun's hands, he remained the strongest among the clan's youths of his generation, barring Yun himself. He was the most dependable card the Namgung Clan could play to secure victory.
"If it's In, he'll surely win."
"His opponent is about the same age, isn't he? Then there shouldn't be any problem."
Such confident whispers had circulated among the clan members ever since Namgung In was selected as a duelist.
Yet their expectations were shattered into pieces.
Clang! Cl-clang!
"Kh!"
From the opening exchanges, Namgung In was battered and driven back by the blade work of the Mo Clan's duelist, Mo Un-su. Anyone watching could tell the Mo disciple possessed a higher level of cultivation.
"Damn it...!"
Backed into a corner, Namgung In unleashed his Sword Thread. With clan honor on the line, there were no soft restrictions barring the use of Sword Energy or Sword Thread in this contest.
I have to end this quickly!
Having gnashed his teeth in relentless training since his defeat by Yun, In's Sword Thread was undeniably more stable than before. Yet, having not crossed into the First-Rate realm, forcing such a technique strained him severely. Ignoring the coppery taste of blood rising in his throat, Namgung In thrust his sword forward with everything he had.
Kaaang!
"...!"
Mo Un-su parried the strike with his saber. Wrapped along the curved steel was an aura that, while faint, was far denser and more stable than In's.
It was Blade Thread.
It meant Mo Un-su had already stepped into the First-Rate realm.
"Aaargh!"
It was not long before Namgung In fell to his knees before Mo Un-su's blade. Hong Jong intervened swiftly enough to prevent a fatal blow, but the injuries had already taken their toll. Namgung In was hurried off toward the Medical Pavilion on a stretcher.
"The victor is Mo Un-su!" Hong Jong called out.
Cheers erupted from the Anhui Mo Clan contingent. In contrast, the Namgung Clan fell into a grave, deathly silence.
To think In lost...
Has that boy already reached the First-Rate realm at such an age?
They refused to show weakness before the Mo Clan, but inward shock rippled through every Namgung spectator.
With the first bout ending in defeat, the second duel commenced.
"I'll be right back, Hyung-nim!"
"Go on," Yun replied casually.
Namgung Geol swaggered up the steps with his chest puffed out. His opponent, Mo Unhoe, climbed onto the ring from the opposite side.
At Hong Jong's signal, the two clashed.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Hazy Sword Energy coated both of their blades. In terms of radiance and form, their cultivation appeared roughly equal.
Yet the match concluded with surprising ease.
"Haaah!"
"Khhk!"
Caught in the tempest of Namgung Geol's relentless, aggressive assault, Mo Unhoe was quickly pushed onto the defensive.
Whoosh!
"Halt!"
Just as Geol's sword pierced an opening and was about to slash Mo Unhoe, Hong Jong caught the hilt of his weapon, arresting the strike mid-air.
"The victor is Namgung Geol!"
"Hell yes!"
Geol pumped his fist in triumphant celebration, while Mo Unhoe trudged down the platform with slumping shoulders.
Relieved cheering broke out among the Namgung onlookers.
"That ties it at one apiece!"
"Well done, Geol!"
"I was worried when I saw how steady the opponent's Sword Energy looked, but it was all for naught!"
"To think he can fight like that so soon after breaking into the Second-Rate realm! He truly has a bright future ahead of him!"
Namgung Geol descended from the stage, making way for the combatants of the third bout.
While the clan members had harbored high hopes for Namgung In and Namgung Geol, their demeanor now shifted noticeably.
"Hrm..."
"I wonder if he can hold his own."
Compared to prodigies like In and Geol, Namgung Yeon had always been considered lacking. While rated respectably among his peers in the Lower Training Ground, whether he had the right to bear the prestige of the Namgung name on such a stage was met with widespread skepticism.
Yeon could feel that oppressive atmosphere weighing down upon him.
"Tsk. Of all people, they send out this weakling. Everyone knows how pathetic the Chief Manager's son is," Mo Un-do scoffed from across the ring.
Even his opponent looked down on him with open disdain.
In the past, such words would have made his blood boil. He would have drowned in a mire of inferiority, cursing the fact that he was slighted simply because his father was an administrator rather than a warrior.
Yet strangely, those contemptuous glares no longer stung.
Yeon stole a glance toward Namgung Yun.
Just as he had during In and Geol's bouts, Yun stood below with folded arms, gazing up at the ring. In his dark eyes, there was neither anxious doubt nor dismissive contempt.
Namgung Yeon drew his sword.
"Begin!"
The signal fell, and their weapons collided.
Kh!
The jarring vibration numbed his hands. Yun had spoken the blunt truth: among all the duelists present today, Yeon was unequivocally the weakest.
He's at the level Geol was right before advancing to the Intermediate Training Ground.
In plain terms, it meant victory was nearly impossible under normal circumstances.
Yet that was no excuse to surrender. Namgung Yeon sharpened his focus.
The duel dragged on far longer than anyone anticipated. Steel ground against steel as fierce, chilling gusts whipped across the platform.
Neither appeared to possess a decisive advantage, but as the minutes ticked by, the mood between the two clans diverged sharply.
"Yeon is holding out surprisingly well."
"Was that child always so resilient?"
Murmurs of admiration arose from the Namgung Clan spectators.
"What the hell is that bastard doing?"
"He should've wrapped this up ages ago..."
Curses and muttered frustration spread through the Mo Clan ranks.
Although the fight seemed evenly matched on the surface, anyone with discernment knew who possessed the deeper cultivation: Mo Un-do.
Yet he had utterly failed to seize the momentum.
Dammit all...! Mo Un-do gnashed his teeth, slashing his saber with venomous fury. Even within the Third-Rate realm, clear hierarchies existed. To be dragged into a drawn-out struggle by an opponent who was undeniably inferior bruised his pride to no end.
To make matters worse, he had openly scoffed at Namgung Yeon before the match began.
Heat flushed his cheeks in burning humiliation. Naturally, he poured more frantic power into his strikes.
Just die already, you little shit!
Yet no matter the onslaught, Namgung Yeon held his ground.
It's working!
Before the bout, Namgung Yun had pulled him aside.
"Let's make use of what you already stuffed into your vessel," Yun had said.
At first, Yeon had been thoroughly confused. Hadn't Yun lectured him on how neglecting the vessel itself to prematurely cram in raw power would ruin his future potential? That was why he had spent the recent days unlearning his bad habits and expanding the foundation of his vessel.
To his confusion, Yun had countered with a sly grin.
"In terms of long-term cultivation, that's correct. But for a duel happening right in front of your nose, there's nothing wrong with playing a few cheap tricks."
Yun's grin at that moment had resembled nothing so much as a seasoned back-alley rogue teaching an impressionable child how to pick pockets.
"You might as well enjoy it while you can. A foul trick like this only works while your foundation is as horribly unbalanced as it is right now. Once your martial arts return to proper balance, you won't be able to pull it off even if you wanted to."
And so, Yeon was introduced to Yun's absurd tactical doctrine: "Even trash can be put to good use."
Yeon had been skeptical at first, but its efficacy was now undeniably proving itself.
"Fuck!"
Mo Un-do's growing panic was palpable. His saber struck out like a striking viper along an erratic angle that should have been nearly impossible for Yeon to parry with his baseline skill.
At least, if he had come unprepared.
"Listen closely," Yun had explained. "You completely ignored the harmony of mind, qi, and body, obsessing solely over the sheer ferocity of individual forms. It's a completely idiotic way to train, but ironically, in a duel, it's not the worst tool. It lets you fight on par with opponents who are technically stronger than you. That's the only reason you were treated like a prodigy in the Lower Training Ground."
Of course, Yun hadn't forgotten to emphasize right after that mortgaging one's future for short-term vanity was still the height of stupidity.
"However, relying on that alone won't work against someone of this opponent's caliber. Which means we need to tweak your forms a bit."
With those words, Yun had personally remodeled the stances of the Great Extension Divine Art for him.
"Every time you executed a technique before, you must've felt your body creaking, didn't you? That's because your vessel was frail. Every time the contents sloshed around, your flimsy cup was screaming under the strain. Subconsciously, your instincts suppressed your momentum to keep yourself from breaking apart. You thought you were giving it your all, but your body was secretly holding back. In other words, you're capable of striking much harder than you think."
"Uh... that sounds really dangerous," Namgung Geol had muttered nervously from the side.
Yun had scoffed as though Geol had stated the obvious.
"Dangerous? It's absurdly dangerous. It wouldn't be surprising if his dantian shattered into dust during the duel."
"And you're teaching him that anyway?!"
Even Geol—who would have normally nodded along if Yun claimed he could block out the sun with the palm of his hand—had reeled back in sheer horror.
Naturally, Yeon himself hadn't felt particularly reassured either.
"Relax," Yun had drawled. "There isn't enough time to reinforce your entire vessel, but I can forcibly temper the specific load-bearing points that endure the greatest stress when the energy sloshes. That alone will let you unleash techniques far more potent than what you can currently muster."
"That sounds insanely difficult... Can we even make it in time? And if he overtrains, won't he be too exhausted to fight properly during the duel?" Geol had protested.
"Geol, Geol, you foolish little brother. Do you honestly think your Hyung-nim hasn't accounted for that?"
At that moment, Yun had turned his gaze toward Yeon and smiled.
To this day, Yeon was certain that it was the single most spine-chilling expression he had ever witnessed in his life.
"Hammering this fellow's vessel into shape within the deadline and stabilizing his condition right before the match is child's play. The only slight catch is that he will experience ungodly agony right up until the day of the duel. But hey, it's all for your own good. You can endure that much, can't you?"
"..."
A desperate refusal had surged to the tip of Yeon's tongue, but he had swallowed it down.
It hadn't been out of martial pride or clan honor. It was simply the bone-deep realization that no matter what he said, nothing would sway Namgung Yun. Even Geol's pitiful gaze beside him had failed to bother him in that moment.
And true to his word, Yun had carried out every single promise.
That training was pure, unadulterated hell.
He honestly never wanted to remember a second of it. Yet the undeniable result was that he was holding his ground against an opponent who outmatched him.
And it isn't just about holding on, either.
Just as Yun had diagnosed, Yeon used to feel a jarring stiffness whenever he executed his sword forms. He had naively assumed that sensation would fade once his cultivation rank increased, never realizing it was the symptom of an unstable foundation.
The creaking is practically gone.
Even though he was driving his sword forms harder and more aggressively than ever before, the transitions from one strike to the next flowed with astonishing fluidity.
Hyung-nim was right!
The internal energy streaming from his dantian surged naturally through his meridians, feeding cleanly into the blade. Was this what Yun had meant by the harmony of mind, qi, and body?
Maybe I should keep executing forms this way in the future...
The thought tempted him almost instinctively.
Yet Yeon snuffed out the idea the very instant it crossed his mind.
"If you ever get the idiotic notion to keep using this method after today, I'll snap every joint in your arms and legs backward."
Having foreseen this exact temptation, Yun's chilling warning cleanly severed any lingering desire.