Chapter 35
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: No Quarter in Group Combat
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"Hah! Hak! Haak! Haaak...!"
Stagger...
Even in the long history of the Point Cang Sword Sect, there had never been a group spar like this between senior and junior brothers.
The first match between the two groups had naturally ended in victory for Team One.
But to call it an overwhelming win? Not quite...
Thud!
"S-Senior Brother!"
"Second Senior Brother!"
In the midst of the junior brothers sprawled out after clinging on desperately, Gwang-jo finally lost his grip on consciousness, swaying unsteadily.
Considering how he'd thrashed about like a reed in the wind, he'd held out pretty long in his own way.
'At least he's putting on a show worthy of second senior brother.'
Huh.
Gwang-il, who'd been watching the brutal scene with bored eyes, let out an involuntary wry smile.
'This isn't some back-alley brawl between black path thugs...'
The group battle the juniors had just shown was far below even his lowest expectations in quality.
'They can't sync their movements or teamwork—getting tangled up with their own side.'
In the chaotic flurry of scattered fights, some couldn't even find their opponents and just stood there dumbly, swords undrawn.
'Not even thinking to strike from behind someone who's engaged...'
Tsk!
From the perspective of a former Evil Path Alliance leader, it was a suffocatingly frustrating sight.
But on the other hand, it wasn't entirely incomprehensible.
'It was the same when we faced the Beast Palace in my previous life.'
During that initial clash.
Even after being invaded from a hopelessly disadvantaged position, they'd stubbornly insisted on one-on-one duels and paid dearly for it.
The reason the sect elders fell into the Beast Palace's trap was precisely that unyielding upright faction pride and conviction.
'They had zero understanding of warfare.'
Romantic one-on-one deathmatches between martial experts had no place on the battlefield—couldn't be allowed.
No one had realized it.
That's how much the Point Cang of that time was like a frog in a well.
So, it was understandable—something to overlook—that these young juniors looked so pathetic now.
Understandable... but
'Still can't help getting pissed off.'
It wasn't just their subpar martial skills.
He'd already accounted for their pitiful level.
At the very least, they should show some vicious tenacity...
'That grit they show in one-on-ones or sprints vanishes like a mirage when I set up a proper arena.'
Charitably, it meant they'd been properly taught the conduct expected of disciples from a prestigious upright sect.
Realistically, bluntly—it was the process of turning into typical facade-obsessed upright sect nerds.
And unfortunately.
'Our sect has no room for such half-baked nerds right now.'
It couldn't be helped.
They faced daily joint assaults, even from beasts whose moves couldn't be predicted—like the Beast Palace.
'This won't cut it.'
If things stayed like this, even after drilling them to master One Flash Death, they'd just meet pointless deaths when war broke out.
He couldn't stomach reliving that infuriating sight in this life...
"What a complete mess."
Before the second group match, giving the remaining juniors a harsh mental reconditioning was the natural next step.
"What did you feel watching that group spar?"
"P-Pardon? Me? Uh... well..."
He'd suddenly singled out one junior who caught his eye, but as expected, the boy couldn't answer easily.
Apart from being intimidated by their eldest senior brother, he probably hesitated to criticize his seniors' spar freely.
"Tsk!"
"......"
"That's the problem with your attitude right now. Once you've gripped your sword and stepped up, whether it's a senior brother or anyone, you have to charge in fiercely to seize vi—"
"...?"
Murmurs!
Whispers.
"—to seize victory. But you're even reluctant to speak ill of your senior brothers?"
"......"
He'd nearly slipped with a poor word choice, but Gwang-il smoothly recovered with quick wits.
"Gwang-geon. You answer. What did you think of your senior and junior brothers' group battle just now?"
To redirect the juniors' attention, he hastily aimed the question at the conspicuous Gwang-geon.
But surprisingly, the immediate, unhesitating response brought deep satisfaction to Gwang-il's previously irritated heart.
"It was... frustrating. Like, you could just reach out and smack the back of their heads, but they hesitate—I don't get it..."
"That punk...!"
"This mad bastard?!"
"How dare a Point Cang disciple spout such nonsense!"
"Senior Brother Gwang-geon!"
Chaos!
Uproar!
Thunderous roars poured out in unison.
It wasn't just because Gwang-geon was far below the eldest senior brother.
"Do you even know what insane drivel you've just spewed?!"
"Striking the back of the head?! In a spar between brothers, what kind of barbaric...!"
They felt a visceral rejection to his blunt words themselves.
The pride of being disciples of the Point Cang Sword Sect—one of the Nine Great Sects—and the relentless education on proper upright faction virtues and conduct.
These layers of upbringing triggered instant revulsion against his shocking statement.
"N-No, I just... You told me to say what I felt..."
Had he not expected such a fierce backlash?
Under the ferocious glares from countless brothers ready to devour him, Gwang-geon shrugged and offered a belated excuse.
"This punk still won't come to his senses!"
"Try saying that to your senior uncle, who'll be your master! Bet he'll praise you real~ good! Huh?!"
But it was far too late to quell the wildfire of outrage.
Yet for Gwang-geon, a lifeline remained.
"Kuhuhuhu."
"...?"
"E-Eldest Senior Brother...?"
Gwang-il's stifled chuckles, lips pressed tight as he forced back laughter.
The juniors sensed something ominous, exchanging uneasy glances—
"Excellent. Gwang-geon, you're truly our sect's hope and future."
"?!"
"What absurd nonsense is that?!"
"Our sect's hope?! The future?!"
The ridiculous statement sparked another wave of fierce protests.
But unlike Gwang-geon, Gwang-il couldn't care less about the uproar from these nerd candidates.
"The moment you grip your sword and step into the martial world, there's no upright or evil path."
"!!!"
"?!"
Another casual bombshell.
Unable to even retort, the juniors gaped as Gwang-il's icy recitation stabbed into their ears like daggers.
"Let me ask you. If evil path or western outer palace enemies invade our sect grounds, can you still cling to that upright faction honor?"
"...!"
"Even as our halls of history crumble, the grounds burn, and your brothers and elders die gruesomely under villain blades?"
"Th-That's...!"
A premise that chilled the spine and wrenched the heart just to hear.
One junior tried to counter that it was too extreme, too unrealistic—but Gwang-il's lightning glare made him snap his mouth shut in terror.
"Why? Were you about to claim such a thing would never happen?"
"......"
"Can you swear on your life? Guarantee with certainty that no such tragedy will befall Point Cang?"
The vast training ground fell into a suffocating silence.
Gwang-il strode to the center of the encircling juniors, slowly scanning them before repeating the question.
"If powerful enemies beyond your ken invade our sect, can you uphold that precious upright honor to the end?"
"......"
"Even if clinging to that hollow facade brings our sect near destruction? Truly, to the very end, will you safeguard that damned upright conviction and pride?"
Without emitting a shred of intimidation, no one there could even breathe comfortably.
His gaze, demeanor, and the barely concealed fury in his voice had infected everyone around him with those emotions.
"......No long-winded lectures. I don't even have time for that."
"......"
"From this moment, if anyone hesitates to strike a clear target right in front of them, I'll personally show you what hell on earth looks like."
"!!!"
Gulp!
Even through harsh training, he'd never threatened like this before.
Having never faced such direct menace, the juniors trembled in overwhelming fear.
Moreover, the staunch ones like Gwang-jo who might resist were unconscious from the prior group fight.
'If they were awake, they wouldn't bend this easily.'
But he'd anticipated that, sending them out first as the opening salvo.
Satisfied with his clever setup, Gwang-il hid his inner thoughts and issued another razor-sharp warning.
"Teams Three and Four, step forward."
"Y-Yes...!"
"Ugh......"
Eight boys, who'd just endured the brutal intimidation, faced their turn with deathly pallor, shuffling out unsteadily.
No courage to defy the Yama-like eldest senior brother, they advanced to dodge the immediate wrath.
Gwang-il eyed their dejected forms, tsking discontentedly.
"You look like cattle herded to the slaughterhouse."
"......"
"But if you slack off or fight half-assed in this group battle... I'll personally mince you all."
"?!"
"If you don't want to die by my hand here, do it right. Got it?"
"......"
Was it the threat beyond their limits?
The boys' stunned or teary faces began to shift, bit by bit.
'Eeee! Fine, if it's come to this...!'
'Even if we hit seniors from behind, it's what Eldest Senior Brother ordered...'
'If we don't do it right, we'll die to him anyway. Better to beat these guys instead.'
When pushed to the brink, people's hidden depths emerge.
And at the very bottom lies the primal drive to survive...
'Gonna smash 'em flat!'
'Chance to thrash seniors with Eldest Senior Brother's approval? Hey, that's actually great...'
The earlier-born seniors in their own way, the younger juniors in theirs.
Each steeled their resolve amid private schemes.
And right then.
"Now, fight each other."
Gwang-il's chilling declaration once more flung wide the curtains on their bloody, desperate struggle.