From the Back of the Line
I swallowed hard.
My ears were taking in Kang Buryong's words, but I couldn't focus on them for the life of me.
Not since I'd felt several people drawing toward me, only to melt back into the crowd and vanish.
No way.
Surely not.
These lunatics wouldn't actually try something here… would they?
Fortunately, the ones approaching flinched when the murmuring around us swelled and the crowd began to shift. After that they were swept along by the throng and dissolved as if they'd never been there.
"…"
Once my nerves had sharpened, they stayed that way—sensitive enough that I could feel the weave of the cloth against my skin.
Kang Buryong stepped back up onto the platform and resumed his speech.
"You chicks. Your schemes are plain as day. One of three things, isn't it?"
He held up three fingers and folded them down one by one as he spoke.
"First—those of you hoping to grow on Baekryeonsa's support. Second—those aiming for a Covenant of the Sacred Mountain with a Guardian, or for connections with the scions of major sects. But more than anything, your real design is the third: a certificate proving you passed even one of Cheonsubaekryeonsa's four gates at a high level. That paper itself."
Everyone kept silent. That silence was a stronger affirmation than any spoken word.
Kang Buryong chuckled low in his throat.
"Fine. I understand. Being born a martial artist and wanting to carve your name across the world isn't a bad thing. The higher the gate you clear among Cheonsubaekryeonsa's four, the more that achievement becomes a publicly recognized badge of glory. Especially the final gate—Dong-mu-gwan."
He clenched a fist and grinned.
"Anyone who passes the Winter stage may not quite reach the Eight Immortal Dragons of murim history, but they earn the right to be called one of the next candidates for the Oho-samhwa—the eight Hidden Dragons of the martial world. I won't sneer at worldly ambitions. All of this is exactly why we founded Cheonsubaekryeonsa in the first place."
His eyes sharpened like a hawk's.
"But we will only support those who are worth it. And so, starting this year, we have decided to implement an entrance examination."
The crowd erupted in agitated murmurs.
"I distinctly heard there was no entrance exam for the last cohort?"
"This is a scam—we didn't prepare for any test!"
The unfamiliarity on every face made it clear nothing like this had ever been done before.
[Host. To your right.]
I snapped my gaze right as fast as lightning.
Our eyes met.
Sparks flew.
A man tried to look away in a hurry, missed the beat, and locked eyes with me instead. Solid build, half-curly hair.
[He's been watching you for a while now.]
My breath stopped.
One of the Moyong Family's candidates for family head?
The thought flashed through my mind like a bolt of light.
I had three half-brothers somewhere. I didn't even know their faces. I'd been so young during my time at the Moyong Family Residence, and as a bastard son, Mother and I had been treated like ghosts—living out on the fringes of the estate, never crossing paths with anyone who mattered.
Power-blind brats who look for any chance to erase me.
My teeth ground together.
Fire sparked in my eyes.
From the first impression, I refused to lose even an inch. I didn't look away. I stared him down hard.
He stopped trying to dodge my gaze and stared right back.
Oh, is that how it is?
I had brushed death more times than I could count. My limbs had been severed. Right in front of Cheonsubaekryeonsa I had been carved open with a blade. Without Mumyeong's help I would have died long ago—or at best been left a cripple.
Whether this one had ordered it or another brother had, there was no way I was going to look at him kindly.
"…"
He must have registered how sharp my stare had become. His expression suddenly changed.
He's flustered?
Looking awkward, the man rolled his eyes this way and that, scratched his cheek—then thrust his thumb up and winked.
"…What the hell is wrong with that bastard."
Embarrassment made me look away before I could stop myself.
[He's a lunatic. Stay on guard, Host.]
"Look at that. The first time we've ever agreed on something."
Through all of it, the speech rolled on.
"The entrance exam is very simple. Hold out for the span of one gak against this man—either in a spar or an internal energy contest. Passing means you endure. The grade each of you receives will be determined by a comprehensive review of various criteria during that endurance. Allow me to introduce him."
Kang Buryong gestured behind him and continued.
"Originally he was scheduled to leave after assisting with the previous cohort's training. For certain reasons, however, he has agreed to serve as examiner for this cohort's entrance test as well. Take note."
A massive frame stepped up beside Kang Buryong, red hair billowing like a lion's mane.
"Hahaha! Good to meet you all. I am called Pahwanggun. It is an honor to oversee Cheonsubaekryeonsa's entrance examination for this cohort."
Even the announcement of the entrance exam itself had not raised a murmur like this.
"Good gods—that madman Pahwanggun?!"
"My elder brother told me not to worry, that the man had been banned from Cheonsubaekryeonsa after last cohort—how is he back this year?!"
"That's the Fighting Ghost the Alliance Leader dotes on!"
Pahwanggun seemed to have expected exactly this reaction. He laughed in open triumph.
"Mwahaha! Kids, relax. However rough I am, you think I'd tear chicks like you limb from limb?"
That remark had the opposite of the intended effect. The phrase "tear limb from limb," especially, was fresh enough even among the orthodox scions gathered here that shock rippled through the lot of them.
"I didn't just mishear that, did I?"
"Rumor was he came from the unorthodox path, caught the Alliance Leader's eye, got talked into joining the orthodox side and even received instruction."
"Just last year there was talk he ripped some thugs who were preying on civilians apart with his bare hands."
If the scraps reaching my ears were already this bad, that told me everything I needed about what kind of man he was.
"Ahem, Lord Pahwanggun. I trust there will be no… unfortunate incidents this time, of the sort that arose last cohort when you failed to moderate your strength against examinees. Of course, after the Alliance Leader's intensive coaching, I'm sure you'll handle it admirably."
"Of course! Don't you worry!"
Kang Buryong's words were more than enough to freeze the assembly solid.
Damn it.
Cold sweat ran down my temples.
An entrance exam.
Spar or internal energy contest—choose one. Neither favored me. I had barely any internal energy to speak of, and no proper martial arts worth the name.
"I will take the entrance exam first!"
"I have long heard of Pahwanggun's renown—please instruct me!"
"This second-generation disciple of the Qingcheng Sect—!"
Unlike me, trembling in place, some examinees were actually burning with competitive fire. Mostly the ones in the front rows, scions of famous sects. People with real backing carried themselves with a confidence that showed in every gesture.
Still—lucky for me. With that many volunteers, I would have time to think. I decided to watch how the others' tests went and build a counterplan from there. With a crowd this size, even if they moved quickly, it would take at least half a day.
"Heh heh. Love it—everyone scrambling to go first! This is why youth is wonderful."
Seeing the front row practically ready to fight each other for the first challenge, Pahwanggun threw his head back and laughed.
"But see, I don't much care for things that stick to the script."
No.
A chill ran through me.
With a look of pure satisfaction, he pointed straight to the very back.
"Not the front row—we start from the rear! Stay exactly where you're standing and come out from the back! You there in the back, hiding with that vacant look on your face! You're up first!"
The tip of his finger pointed precisely at the back row where I stood.
…Why are bad premonitions never wrong?
As I sighed, Mumyeong whispered.
[Host. You haven't forgotten the way back to Elder Pal's house, have you?]
"Shut up. Be quiet."
After that, everything moved in a blink. There was no chance to run, no chance to switch places. The exam began at once.
Examinees entered a white-tented testing ground one by one. Everyone else sat in a line of chairs set in front of the tent and waited their turn.
"Aaaargh!"
And already the seventh was being carried out.
I sat in my chair, cold sweat pouring down me. The six people beside me wore the exact same expression.
"Tsk tsk. No wonder you were hiding in the back like a pack of rats with skill like that!"
"My arm! My arm! I'm telling Father!"
"Kwahaha! This body is stronger than your father! Strength breeds respect!"
It was chaos. I even started to wonder whether I had come to the orthodox Cheonsubaekryeonsa or walked into a demonic cult's testing ground—the place was pure pandemonium. I couldn't tell if this was an examination hall or a one-sided beatdown.
"This is an orthodox training ground, right? Not some demonic cult?"
[From what faint memories I can dredge up, the demonic cult was hell itself. This place at least still smells like people living in it. Don't worry, Host. It's orthodox.]
Smells like people living in it, huh.
We were grouped in twenties to wait for the test. Those of us who had been in the very back row belonged to the first group, sitting in a line outside the tent where the exams were underway.
I wondered if this was how cattle felt, waiting their turn at the slaughterhouse. One by one we were called, vanished beyond the huge white tent into the sparring ground—and without fail, a scream would float thinly out afterward.
"Maybe we should just go home now."
The examinee two seats ahead of me—next up after the one currently waiting—gnawed his nails and shook. A soft-faced young master who didn't even look twenty yet. We didn't know one another's sects or names, but in the face of a shared terror we were perfectly united.
The examinee directly ahead of me spoke up.
"What if we propose an internal energy contest as the subject instead? So far it seems everyone has requested a spar."
It was a reasonably persuasive point. The rest of us, brains locked solid with fear, nodded along.
"Next one in! Why are you kids so spineless!"
The next examinee was practically dragged inside.
"Oho! What a sturdy build! I'll ask your name if you pass. Which event do you want?"
How could a human voice be that loud? It boomed even through the tent.
"Th-that is, an internal energy con—"
"Well now! Examiner! You seeing this? Finally, a bold one asking me for an internal energy contest! Excellent. Truly excellent."
Every face waiting outside went the color of dirt.
The tent blocked any view of what was happening inside; sound was all we had. Even that was muffled by how thick the canvas was—only those sitting closest could make much out, while people farther back heard little more than the screams.
No way to get information.
At this rate, failure was inevitable. And for me, failure didn't just mean failing.
It meant death.
It meant a life without any protection, where I couldn't even sleep in peace just to stay alive. If my luck ran out, the moment I stepped out Cheonsubaekryeonsa's main gate I might become a human skewer under spears raining down from every direction.
"Next."
…No time even to think.
The examinee in front of me walked through the entrance and immediately forfeited, so my turn arrived at once.
Damn it all.
I clenched my teeth.
Fail the entrance exam and you were expelled. Get expelled from Cheonsubaekryeonsa and you became a fledgling fallen from the nest. I wouldn't last two days against the murder waiting at the gates.
Every hair on my body stood on end. Crossing under that white tent felt like a condemned man walking the path to the chopping block.
"Kwahaha, another chick arrives. At this pace we'll be done before lunch even—!"
Our eyes met.
Behind a broad white desk, Pahwanggun sat with his arms crossed, massive arm muscles looking ready to burst. Beside him, the previous examinee was being carried out, blackened arms clutched to his chest, foam at his mouth.
"Well now, look at this one. Those eyes."
"……"
I blinked.
Don't flinch.
I called up every life-and-death crisis I had already crossed. I had endured like a demon, and so far no one had managed to kill me. I would absolutely not die. If survival meant shoving gutter mud into my mouth and crawling out on my belly—then that was exactly what I would do…!
"Who are you? You've got strange eyes."
"This examinee greets the examiner."
There was no more running. All that remained was to break through with everything I had.