Chapter 264
Chapter 264
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 264
Chapter Title: Footstep Judgment
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Rejected.”
Cheonhwi’s decisions were unflinching.
Dozens had already stood before him, but not one had passed.
“Who the hell is he even going to pass?”
“He’s not planning to pick anyone at all, is he?”
The atmosphere, once brimming with eager anticipation, had turned ice-cold.
As frigid as a biting north wind laden with snow.
Amid it all, Cheonhwi kept repeating “rejected” as he continued sifting through the candidates.
The numbers dwindled rapidly.
Those who had come with such confidence and now tasted rejection reacted in all sorts of ways.
“He’s riding high on his recent fame, acting this arrogant?”
“I got duped by the great name of the Plum Blossom Divine Hero. Should’ve gone straight to the Jade Qilin instead... What a waste of time.”
Anger, doubt, betrayal, disappointment.
And every now and then, some exploded in passionate outrage.
“I can’t accept this!”
A young man in pristine yellow training robes, Jeongcheong, bellowed.
He was seething with frustration right now.
He had defied his master’s advice to go to the Jade Qilin and chosen the Plum Blossom Divine Hero instead.
But what was this?
Not even drawing his sword—just a mere face-to-face, and he was out.
How could he not be furious?
“You didn’t even check our martial arts! Picking people just by eyeballing them? Where does that happen?!”
His voice boomed across the hall.
The onlookers nodded in agreement.
They felt the same way, even if they hadn’t voiced it.
Emboldened by their reactions, Jeongcheong glared and unleashed all his grievances.
“Is this some trivial task? It’s a detachment squad heading into full-scale war against the Evil-Black Alliance! And you’re selecting members just by looking at their faces...? Are you treating this detachment like a joke, Plum Blossom Divine Hero?”
His words rang true, and the waiting candidates—or those rejected but lingering—shouted in unison.
“He’s right!”
“I think so too!”
As the chorus grew louder, riding the momentum, Cheonhwi scratched his head.
“So, you don’t like my method?”
Jeongcheong glared wide-eyed and answered.
“Exactly.”
“Then isn’t that perfect?”
“What...?”
Cheonhwi twisted one corner of his mouth.
“I wasn’t planning to pick anyone who hates my method anyway. We both dislike it, so let’s just go our separate ways.”
With that, he pointed toward the gate. A clear gesture to get out.
Jeongcheong bit his lip and spun on his heel.
He knew arguing further was pointless.
“You’ll never assemble a proper detachment like this.”
Unable to swallow his rage completely, he shot back at Cheonhwi just before leaving.
“Got it, so hurry up and go. I’ve still got a ton of people to see—don’t waste my time.”
All he got in return was a scolding.
“......”
Jeongcheong scowled and stormed out.
Silence fell.
In that moment, Cheonhwi swept his half-lidded gaze over the crowd and spoke.
“You all saw that, right? If you don’t like my way, leave now.”
His indifferent words made the lined-up candidates flinch, plunging them into deep thought.
“Maybe I should just go now...”
“Think the Jade Qilin would still take me if I went this late?”
“Not sure I’d pass there either.”
Even those from the Nine Great Sects trembled with anxiety as they were rejected one after another.
Then, when no one moved...
“I’m out.”
One young man made up his mind and turned abruptly.
“M-Me too.”
“Anywhere’s better than here...”
And that sparked it. Those hesitating followed one by one.
In an instant, a third of them left.
‘Still this many left, huh.’
Cheonhwi was impressed.
Despite the exodus, the line was still long.
‘At this rate, it’ll take all day.’
Tsking briefly, he scanned them again and spoke.
“Next two, come up.”
The selection resumed, but it was more rejections as usual.
Most rejected left immediately, but a few, fueled by stubbornness, glared daggers at Cheonhwi, determined to see who would pass.
How much time passed like that?
“Line up behind.”
The first different words made several heads snap up toward Cheonhwi.
“What?!”
“Did he pass?!”
Their eyes turned to the person before him.
A woman stood there.
She looked just as stunned, clearly not expecting it.
“This can’t be!”
Someone bellowed.
He was one of the recently rejected.
He wasn’t alone.
Several bristled with sharp hostility at Cheonhwi’s choice.
They couldn’t accept that this woman outshone them.
Her face twisted at their reaction.
She had no grand background or fame in the jianghu, but hearing such insults to her face was unbearable.
The rejected didn’t care about her feelings and shouted.
“I can’t accept this!”
“Why her?!”
Cheonhwi glanced at them and said,
“My ears are ringing. If you’re gonna be loud, get out. Tsk tsk, you’re already rejected—what’s the point?”
His words left them speechless, teeth grinding.
“Waste of time.”
“......”
Muttering, they finally left the hall.
Cheonhwi ignored them entirely, beckoning with his finger.
“Alright, next two.”
From some point in the process, the number standing behind Cheonhwi began to grow, bit by bit.
The remaining candidates eyed the passers thoughtfully.
‘Maybe they have something in common?’
But they soon shook their heads.
The ones behind him were all different.
Some from the Nine Great Sects stood right next to disciples from obscure minor sects they’d never heard of.
And their martial prowess...
‘Their auras are weak.’
They tilted their heads.
A few were renowned late-generation experts from their regions, but others were disciples from sects no one had even heard of.
No clear standard.
“Is he really just picking randomly?”
Most reached that conclusion.
“What do you think?”
A Jongnam Sect Taoist, Muhong, asked Hogwanggae of the Beggars’ Sect.
“Do you think he’s just picking whoever he fancies, like they say?”
“No, there’s a clear criterion.”
Hogwanggae spoke with conviction.
Muhong was puzzled.
No common thread among those lined up behind.
“Why do you think that?”
“If he was picking randomly, why make them line up like this?”
Hogwanggae’s gaze fixed on Cheonhwi, whose face oozed annoyance.
“Look at his expression. If he just wanted to pick favorites, he’d notify them one-sidedly and leave. He wouldn’t check each one like this.”
Before coming, Hogwanggae had heard about Cheonhwi’s personality from the Gang Leader—roughly, at least.
‘Heard he’s willful and hates everything bothersome.’
He scratched his greasy head.
This was worse than described.
‘Making enemies like that...’
He glanced at the departing ones.
Their faces were grim.
Probably barely holding back their dissatisfaction.
Muhong furrowed his brow.
“So, what’s the criterion?”
Hogwanggae wiped his hand on his sackcloth and chuckled.
“Beats me.”
Nearby, someone had been quietly listening.
‘...A criterion, huh.’
Qingcheng Sect’s famed late-generation disciple, Fine Stream Blade Danri Gwancheon.
Lost in thought, he absentmindedly looked down—and noticed the feet of the two walking ahead.
‘Ah, got it.’
His eyes sparkled as realization dawned.
He wasn’t the only one.
A few quick-witted others caught on too, glaring ahead with fierce intensity.
“Line up behind.”
“Really?”
“Take it or leave it.”
“N-No, I accept!”
Adding another passer, Cheonhwi eyed the young man beside her.
“You’re rejected.”
“......Understood.”
Perhaps from all the prior commotions, the rejected now withdrew meekly, realizing protests were futile.
“Next.”
As he spoke, Cheonhwi narrowed his eyes.
‘Here he comes.’
One he’d been watching stepped forward.
A Qingcheng Taoist.
‘Well, well, look at this?’
Cheonhwi’s eyes widened as the man approached step by step.
“Qingcheng’s Danri Gwancheon.”
“Fine Stream Blade?!”
“That’s Qingcheng’s...”
Everyone turned in shock.
The moniker was famous in the jianghu, but his appearance wasn’t well-known, so murmurs rippled.
“I-I’m Janghakil of Sojeongmun.”
The man beside stammered, shrinking back.
Cheonhwi ignored him, focusing solely on Danri Gwancheon.
Then he smiled satisfactorily.
“Pass.”
The first “pass” from Cheonhwi’s lips.
As all eyes widened in astonishment...
“......You’re picking based just on this?”
Danri Gwancheon, heading back, voiced a sudden doubt.
“Yeah.”
“What about everything else...?”
“You just passed that test.”
Danri Gwancheon’s face flickered with complexity before he took his place behind.
The earlier selectees stole glances at him.
‘Fine Stream Blade in our detachment?’
Mind-blowing.
With his background, fame, and skill, even the Three Powers and Four Greats would welcome him with open arms—not some detachment.
‘In the same squad as Fine Stream Blade?’
‘Dream or reality?’
As some swallowed dryly...
“Jongnam’s Muhong here.”
“Hahaha! Hogwanggae of the Beggars’ Sect.”
More heavyweights appeared.
“Line up behind.”
Cheonhwi said without hesitation.
“......Hmph, not quite a full pass, huh.”
“Tch, so there is something.”
Despite passing, they grumbled slightly and joined the line.
Time flowed on.
The blazing sun had dipped, scattering soft sunset glow.
“Rejected.”
Cheonhwi eyed the last one, then stretched his numb arms wide.
“Ah, finally done.”
Lightly loosening up, he turned around.
“One, two, three, four...”
Counting the warriors behind him one by one, he nodded.
“Forty-two total? Perfect number.”
The selectees stiffened upon realizing selection was over.
Not all, though.
Whoosh!
Hogwanggae shot his hand up.
“Captain, got a question.”
Cheonhwi looked at him calling him captain already and chuckled in disbelief.
“What?”
“Why’d you pick us?”
Everyone jolted.
They’d wondered too but hadn’t dared ask.
Cheonhwi grinned at Hogwanggae.
“Why? Not happy with being picked? Door’s right there.”
“Tch, you know that’s not what I mean...”
As Hogwanggae scratched his head...
“Footprints?”
Danri Gwancheon murmured lowly.
Caught off guard by the interruption, Hogwanggae’s eyes widened.
‘That’s why I passed!’
Danri Gwancheon approached Cheonhwi.
“You judged by the footprints etched on the floor, right?”
“Exactly. I checked the remaining footprints. How steady and even the strides were. Pass if they met the mark.”
Now understanding why they’d been chosen, they couldn’t hide their surprise.
“But judging only by footwork is risky, no? The enemy’s the Evil-Black Alliance. If their martial skill is lacking...”
Danri Gwancheon trailed off, glancing sideways.
“Forget dying—that’d just hinder the squad.”
Several flinched under his cold gaze.
The skill gap between him and some here was too vast for a cohesive unit.
But Cheonhwi replied calmly.
“Hmm, seems you’re confusing things... What does a detachment do?”
Danri Gwancheon furrowed his brow.
“Operate independently from the main force, carrying out missions...!”
Suddenly, his face went blank, like he’d been hammered on the head. He whispered.
“So that’s why footwork...”
For a detachment, mobility and survival were paramount—footwork above all.
“But if that’s it, why not test by demonstrating footwork techniques?”
“Huge difference between ingrained habit and not. Even masters of supreme movement arts can’t deploy them fluidly every instant without it being second nature. Useless otherwise.”
Cheonhwi’s voice turned icy.
“Plus, war’s breaking out now. Can’t wait for them to master fancy footwork.”
Not just Danri Gwancheon—even the others were speechless.
No matter how great the art, if unfamiliar, it’s just a flashy dud.
“Makes sense if it’s footwork...”
“It’s my strong suit, after all.”
Cheonhwi smirked at their nodding acceptance.
‘Of course, that’s not all.’
If only footwork, more would’ve passed.
But no.
Simple reason.
‘All these guys cultivate arts I’ve never seen.’
Personal greed mixed in.
‘Can’t wait to see them in action later.’
His eyes gleamed with curiosity as he scanned them.
“Alright, last chance. Anyone who wants to leave, do it now.”
No one budged at his quiet words.
Seeing their resolute eyes, Cheonhwi nodded.
“Looks like we’ve got our full roster. Hurry up and grab your gear.”
“Pardon? What do you mean?”
“Why gear all of a sudden...?”
As they panicked at the abrupt command, Cheonhwi’s lips stretched wide, flashing white teeth.
“Why? Time to work.”