Chapter 68
Chapter 68
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 68
Chapter Title: An Unexpected Challenger
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Thud.
Yi Gok, his breath cut short, collapsed face-first onto the floor. At the same moment, a suffocating silence fell over the tavern.
Click.
But Bu Eun-seol, as if nothing had happened, sheathed his sword and started down the stairs.
—An incredible master of the swift sword has appeared.
The martial artists in the tavern watched Bu Eun-seol leave, their eyes gleaming.
Another noteworthy newcomer had been added to the list for the Martial Tournament.
“Hehehe.”
A young man, watching Bu Eun-seol depart, nodded his head.
“A unique swift sword style. Unleashed using lightning-fast reflexes… I see.”
The young man had instantly discerned that Bu Eun-seol's strike, unlike other swift sword techniques, was executed using elastic muscles and keen reflexes.
“But this is a difficult place to survive with just a swift sword.”
While others gaped in astonishment, the young man remained unfazed.
Instead, he watched Bu Eun-seol’s retreating back with a playful smile.
“He still has a long road ahead of him…”
Picking up his cup, he drained the wine and muttered softly.
“I suppose I should save a life.”
A wide plaza in the center of Dong-pyo-seo-rang.
In the vast open space, large enough to comfortably accommodate thousands, a massive structure had been built. It was a dueling stage and spectator seating.
Typically, dueling stages are built very high, forcing spectators, aside from the honored guests, to look up at the fight.
However, the tournament arena constructed by Dong-pyo-seo-rang featured a sunken stage, surrounded by tiered stone seating, allowing anyone to watch with ease.
—You can see Dong-pyo-seo-rang’s meticulousness just by looking at the stage!
The martial artists attending the tournament for the first time exclaimed in admiration and nodded.
Dong-pyo-seo-rang, an organization expanding its influence by accepting peerless martial artists and wanderers from the Murim.
One could gauge their wealth and influence just by looking at the tournament arena they had built.
“Welcome, fellow martial artists.”
A middle-aged man standing in the center of the stage spoke.
“I am Cho Mun-cheon, the General Manager of Dong-pyo-seo-rang.”
He clasped his hands lightly and spoke again.
“The Martial Tournament hosted by our Dong-pyo-seo-rang has now reached its fourth iteration. This is all thanks to you, our fellow martial artists, who have looked upon us with favor.”
Cho Mun-cheon’s voice, imbued with internal energy, was not loud, yet it reached the ears of everyone in the plaza with perfect clarity.
“This Martial Tournament is merely an occasion to make Dong-pyo-seo-rang widely known in the Murim; there is no other purpose.”
He paused for a moment before continuing.
“Therefore, anyone can participate, regardless of their martial arts proficiency, age, or origin. However, whatever happens here is your own responsibility!”
Cho Mun-cheon then explained the rules of the tournament for a while.
First, anyone can participate in the tournament without restriction, simply by stating their name. However, any problems that arise here are the participant's own responsibility.
Second, to pass the preliminaries, one must defeat three or more challengers. Alternatively, if no challenger appears for more than half a quarter-hour, one also passes.
Third, once thirty-six participants have passed the preliminaries, a tournament bracket will be drawn up, and two matches will be held per day.
Fourth, if a participant obstructs the affairs of Dong-pyo-seo-rang or harms one of its wanderers, they will not receive the winner's prize, even if they win the tournament.
“Now, let the 4th Martial Tournament begin!”
—Waaaaah!
Gonggg.
As a gong set on one side of the stage rang out, a thunderous cheer erupted.
But even as the cheers continued, no one stepped onto the stage. Perhaps it was to be expected.
Even for a seasoned veteran, stepping onto the dueling stage is a considerable burden.
In an atmosphere that had yet to ripen, one could easily make a series of mistakes.
Whoosh.
Just then, a young man in worn gray robes stepped onto the stage without hesitation.
It was Bu Eun-seol.
“Bu Eun-seol.”
When Bu Eun-seol announced his name, Cho Mun-cheon’s eyes flashed.
‘So this is the swift sword master who cut down Yi Gok in a single stroke at the tavern.’
The movements of all the martial artists here were being tracked by Dong-pyo-seo-rang’s informants.
Hearing Bu Eun-seol’s name, he nodded inwardly.
‘He should pass the preliminaries without any trouble.’
To have cut down Yi Gok in a single stroke meant his swift sword was renowned enough in the Murim.
Having revealed his skills in a tavern full of martial artists, he would surely pass the preliminaries without issue.
“Very well, Young Master Bu.”
Cho Mun-cheon called out in a loud voice.
“Now, is there anyone who will challenge this Young Master Bu?”
He waited for a long time, but it was as expected.
No matter how long he waited, no challenger stepped onto the stage.
“Then I will count to five!”
“Wait.”
Just then, with a whoosh, a figure leaped onto the stage.
It was a young man dressed in splendid silk clothes and adorned with luxurious accessories.
It was the same young man who had shared a table with Bu Eun-seol.
“Do you wish to challenge him?”
The young man nodded at Cho Mun-cheon’s words.
“That’s right.”
“Please state your name.”
The young man squared his shoulders and said in a low voice.
“Yeongjiwi.”
At his words, the martial artists gathered in the plaza began to murmur.
—Yeongjiwi, the Grand Master of the Mount Hua Sect?
In an instant, the tournament grounds were in an uproar.
One of the Eighteen Grand Masters, a collective force nurtured by the Murim Alliance with all its might. He, whose movements were always as untraceable as a divine dragon, had appeared at the Martial Tournament?
“You don’t seem very surprised, brother.”
Yeongjiwi was actually the one surprised by Bu Eun-seol’s calm expression.
Since entering the Jianghu, he had never met anyone who didn't react with shock upon hearing his name.
“Did you know who I was?”
Bu Eun-seol answered nonchalantly.
“Only that you are from the Mount Hua Sect.”
Bu Eun-seol didn't know Yeongjiwi was a Grand Master, but he had guessed he was a master from the Mount Hua Sect with a formidable aura.
This was because all masters of the Mount Hua Sect carried swords with very narrow blades and short bodies.
‘Ma Un. He was also a master from the Mount Hua Sect.’
Ma Un, an enemy who had sacrificed himself and ended his own life without regret.
Bu Eun-seol felt indebted to the spy from the Orthodox Faction, who had always been somewhat playful.
That was why, upon realizing he was a martial artist from the Mount Hua Sect, he had remained silent even when the man was talkative and rude.
“I see. You have a very sharp eye, brother.”
Yeongjiwi, looking at Bu Eun-seol, waved his hand.
“Ah! Please don’t misunderstand. I came forward not to harm you, but to protect you.”
What a strange thing to say.
As Bu Eun-seol frowned, Yeongjiwi scratched his head.
“As you know, this is a brutal tournament where one’s life cannot be guaranteed. Your swift sword is impressive, but it’s not enough to survive here.”
Yeongjiwi paused for a moment, then smiled faintly.
“I haven’t forgotten your kindness in letting me share your table, so I’m trying to save you. You’ll have many opportunities in the future, so you should build experience somewhere other than a tournament like this.”
Shing.
As Yeongjiwi drew his sword, a chilling energy spread in all directions.
Yeongjiwi, the Grand Master of Mount Hua.
He had become a disciple of the Mount Hua Sect belatedly, around the age of fourteen.
Despite this, he began to distinguish himself with his dazzling talent, and three years later, he became one of the ten disciples representing the Mount Hua Sect and participated in the Grand Master tournament.
And as soon as he became a Grand Master, he trained for about a year before immediately leaving the Murim Alliance.
Though he was a natural martial prodigy, he strongly desired to roam the Jianghu rather than deeply master martial arts.
“Then begin!”
Cho Mun-cheon’s shout rang out.
Flash!
Yeongjiwi struck like lightning.
But the sword grazed past Bu Eun-seol’s neck, not striking it.
“My sect’s sword style also primarily focuses on speed.”
When Bu Eun-seol remained silent, Yeongjiwi assumed he was astonished by his swift sword and gave a faint smile.
“You should just forfeit the match. Is there really a need to taste despair?”
No matter how skilled his swift sword technique was, from Yeongjiwi’s perspective, Bu Eun-seol was just a rookie who had recently entered the Murim. He couldn't compare to a Grand Master, a rising sun of the Orthodox Faction.
From his point of view, his words were sincere, but to Bu Eun-seol, they were utterly laughable.
“You talk too much.”
“Well then, shall we begin?”
Yeongjiwi, the genius swordsman who had learned martial arts late but had risen to the rank of Grand Master.
He extended his sword with a confident smile.
“Be careful!”
Swish.
With the sound of parting air, a sword technique like a beam of light shot toward Bu Eun-seol’s chest.
He had unleashed the Sun-Shooting Sword Art, the ultimate sword discipline of Mount Hua, which was not only as fast as light but could also strike an enemy regardless of distance.
Whoosh.
But Bu Eun-seol moved his body lightly and dodged the attack.
As if he had expected it, Yeongjiwi moved his sword in a bewildering pattern.
Vrrr.
The lightly trembling sword turned into a mist, instantly sealing off Bu Eun-seol’s escape routes. It was the flawless ultimate technique of the Sun-Shooting Certain Kill.
“Hmm.”
Bu Eun-seol watched the storm of sword tips and moved his feet as if taking a leisurely stroll.
Fwoosh!
Each time, the sharp sword techniques lightly grazed past Bu Eun-seol’s body.
‘What?’
Watching this, Yeongjiwi’s eyes widened.
‘How does this man know all the paths of the Sun-Shooting Sword Art?’
Bu Eun-seol’s evasive movements were not instinctive, nor were they a footwork technique.
He had completely grasped the forms and paths of the Sun-Shooting Sword Art and was dodging the attacks in advance.
‘There’s only one possibility.’
Slowing his assault for a moment, Yeongjiwi’s mind raced.
‘This man must have fought a master from my sect who used the Sun-Shooting Sword Art for hundreds of exchanges and survived.’
The Sun-Shooting Sword Art has never been leaked to outsiders.
Yet, for him to see through every move so clearly meant that Bu Eun-seol must have crossed blades with a master of the art for a long time.
“Have you fought against a master who uses the Sun-Shooting Sword Art before?”
Bu Eun-seol, lightly dodging the storm of sword techniques unleashed by Yeongjiwi, nodded.
“I have. He didn’t use a sword, but an unorthodox weapon.”
“An unorthodox weapon?”
“Even so, the variation and speed of his techniques were far more refined than yours.”
Flick!
Finally drawing his sword, Bu Eun-seol struck at a flaw in Yeongjiwi’s Sun-Shooting Sword Art.
Clang!
With a sharp metallic sound, Yeongjiwi’s Sun-Shooting Sword Art was instantly halted.
To identify a flaw and break a technique in the middle of a real fight is nearly impossible.
One must not only understand all of the opponent’s moves, but also be at least twice as fast.
‘So he’s a much greater master than I thought.’
In truth, Yeongjiwi had entered the world of martial arts late and, trusting in his talent, had not polished his skills deeply.
But that was only in comparison to the other Grand Masters who looked down upon the world. Against any other master in the Murim, he possessed skills they couldn't dare to face.
“I underestimated you too much, brother.”
The smile that had been playing on Yeongjiwi’s lips vanished, and his expression changed.
“Shall we get serious, then?”
Shk!
Suddenly, Yeongjiwi’s sword style changed.
It was a sword form as sharp as the Sun-Shooting Sword Art, yet it concealed countless follow-up moves.
‘A profound sword art.’
For the first time, Bu Eun-seol used footwork to evade the sword techniques.
Shk, shk, shk!
But the sword techniques he thought he had dodged changed course in mid-air and began to rain down on him.
“It’s the Seven Severing Sword Form!”
Someone looking up at the stage shouted.