Experiencing the Flow of Heaven and Earth
According to Cheon Yuhak, waking up in the morning would bring the wondrous realization of feeling the flow of heaven and earth. At the time it had sounded like complete nonsense, but now that she was experiencing it firsthand… Oh. The true power of the Awakening Divine Art was how the razor-sharp senses—like the tips of her fingers—expanded across every inch of her skin.
Cheong waved her hand, and she could vividly feel the air parting and flowing along her flesh. After pacing around the room a couple of times, the meaning of “feeling the flow of heaven and earth with the body” became crystal clear. It really did feel like becoming one with nature.
Because Cheong had been wandering around and making noise, it seemed Gongson Yoye had woken up.
“Seomun Sojeo…? Have you risen?”
“Did you sleep well? You’re going to the opening ceremony, right?”
“Th-the opening ceremony requires that I attend together with my family, so I am truly sorry, most apologetic and deeply remorseful that I cannot accompany you, though my heart earnestly yearns—”
“Hey, family comes first. You go on ahead. I’ll grab a simple breakfast and head over at a leisurely pace.”
Cheong smiled reassuringly at the girl who looked ready to malfunction again, then got dressed. She had grown quite used to donning the uniform by now. After slipping into the undergarments the Mucheon Pavilion maids had prepared, a confident Cheong even picked up her sword and carefully put on the Goddess Sect uniform.
Today was an official event, so the Goddess Sect uniform was required. Her physical condition had been perfect since morning. Maybe it was because she had absorbed quite a lot of medicinal elixirs yesterday? Her body felt incredibly refreshed and light—she couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this invigorated.
On the way to breakfast, the soft rustle of the silk lining brushing against her skin felt so good it was almost criminal. That gentle, whispering caress against her flesh— no wonder people called it “silk-smooth.” It was showing off its presence with every movement. The sensation was exactly like wrapping herself in the world’s most comfortable bedding.
As she walked around savoring that exact feeling of rolling around in bed, every single step brought pure bliss against her skin… Um.
Cheong’s light footsteps gradually grew smaller. Her vigorously swinging arms now rested modestly at her sides, and she suddenly found herself walking with the shy, graceful steps of a Seomun Su-rin-style modest beauty.
It felt good—really good—but this was… a bit… too… how should she describe it? Sensual. She had only been walking, yet if it felt like this.
Inside her veil, Cheong’s face crumpled into a distressed expression.
This… wasn’t this a real problem…?
----
Awakening Divine Art, Murim Tournament, whatever—Cheong first took urgent emergency measures. The clothes brushing against her body were tolerable for a short time, but the accumulated stimulation could no longer be ignored. To reduce the friction, she wrapped her arms and legs tightly with wide silk bracers and bound her torso firmly with a broad sash, making the clothes cling close to her skin.
She ended up wasting time with these preparations, so by the time she reached the Murim Tournament grounds, the Murim Alliance Leader Jo Hyeon-ryang was already deep into a long speech about the righteous path this and chivalry that.
Cheong glanced around discreetly and asked a Murim Alliance warrior for guidance. She had heard in advance where the Goddess Sect seats were located, but the venue was so vast she had no hope of finding them on her own.
The Murim Tournament arena had been constructed on the Grand Canal in front of the Kaifeng government office, right at the heart of the city. As the canal stretched across the entire Central Plains and connected to all three of the world’s major rivers, its starting point—linked to every waterway in the realm—possessed a suitably majestic scale. The tournament hall itself had been built by floating rafts upon it and joining their decks together.
Carefully reading the atmosphere and weaving through the crowd, then awkwardly pushing past rows of seated spectators, she finally located the Goddess Sect’s section.
“Ah. Master. You were already here? Are you participating in the Murim Tournament?”
“Only arriving now? If you don’t move ahead of time, how can I ever set my mind at ease?”
“Hehe…”
With her master present, it was a relief. Compared to the other sects that had brought anywhere from a dozen to several dozen people, their group was positively modest. Since she wouldn’t have known what to do by herself, she could simply follow her master around.
“You didn’t even greet the children of the Nine Great Schools and One Alliance, claiming you were training? Well. I suppose doing that alone wouldn’t have been easy.”
The “children” Seomun Su-rin referred to were the sect leaders or their elder representatives. To her they were of the disciple generation, so calling them children was natural, yet hearing it still felt strangely disconcerting.
What followed was an exceedingly boring stretch of time.
If asked what the Murim Tournament was for, the answer would be to strengthen the unity of the righteous Murim and display its might. In other words, it combined networking, mental fortification, and a demonstration of force. Various events had been prepared accordingly: a unity assembly where anyone from the righteous path could speak and respond freely, the Degree Challenge where one could request sparring matches with the righteous path’s supreme experts, the Grand Operating Council where attendees could vote on agendas selected by the Murim Alliance to help run the righteous Murim, and so on.
However, the event ordinary spectators looked forward to most was undoubtedly the Hidden Dragon Tournament—the fierce competition among the young elites of the righteous path.
The opening ceremony itself was hard to endure. It began with the Alliance Leader’s opening address, followed by congratulatory speeches from Murim notables. One representative from each of the Nine Schools’ sect leaders, the heads of the Five Great Families, and then person after person named so-and-so stepping forward to ramble on…
The spectators, surprisingly, were enjoying it. Wow! The Ten Greatest Masters under Heaven! Wow! The Sect Leader of the Jongnam Sect! They couldn’t hide their excitement merely at the appearance of Murim’s absolute experts, so even during the standard speeches they would murmur things like “Ohh, as expected,” and “Hmm, such profound meaning.”
Cheong couldn’t understand it, but that was because entertainment culture in ancient Central Plains was extremely primitive and uncivilized. Unlike her hometown—where one could see celebrities on a screen at any time—most people had traveled a thousand li to Kaifeng just to catch a single glimpse of the Ten Great Masters’ faces.
Then came the true highlight of the opening ceremony: the drawing of lots for the Hidden Dragon Tournament matchups. The Alliance Leader would personally ascend the platform, draw a slip, and the emcee would loudly announce the names while writing them on a massive banner.
Cheong was bored to death wondering when they would finish drawing all sixty-plus participants, but in truth this was the moment the spectators had been eagerly awaiting.
“Kunlun disciple Jin Sam! Taedong native Bae Jae-hap!”
When the emcee with the powerful voice announced the drawn name, the spectators would immediately begin chatting among themselves.
Will the Kunlun disciple win this one? I saw Bae Jae-hap in the preliminaries—he handled his spear like it was an extension of his own body. Looks like it’ll be a close match to me.
It was both curiosity about victory and defeat and, in many cases, discussion aimed at winning bets on the outcome.
As Cheong forced herself to endure the tedious proceedings, her name was finally called near the end of the third block.
“Goddess Sect disciple Seomun Cheong! Wudang disciple Hwan Yuk!”
She had no idea who that was, though the name sounded vaguely familiar from the Hidden Dragon Assembly. More than that, she was curious about the spectators’ predictions, so she quietly listened to the murmurs around her.
-No contest, it’s Hwan Yuk the Taoist. Wudang means Taiji Sword, and Taiji Sword is the greatest sword art under heaven. This one’ll end quick and boring.
-The Goddess Sect doesn’t really have any standout martial arts, does it? Anyone know what they use?
-Not sure yet. But I heard True Person Yu Ha of the Huashan Sect praised her highly. This is the perfect spot for an upset bet.
-Wait, didn’t you just call it an upset a second ago…?
From what she could gather, the overwhelming consensus was that the Wudang disciple would win. Hmm. Was he that strong? If Jegal were here, he would have added some commentary.
It was then.
“Shaolin disciple Wolbong! Hwaryong-jo’s Jo Hak-che!”
Seomun Su-rin offered her thoughts.
“That bald monk bastard. This must be giving Jo Hyeon-ryang a real stomachache.”
“The Alliance Leader? Um… Is the Shaolin disciple that strong?”
“His Dharma name is Wolbong. He shares the same generation character as you, so whose disciple do you think he is?”
The current Shaolin abbot was Great Monk Wolhyeon of the Wol generation. A name like Wolbong meant he belonged to the same generation, which in turn meant he was a direct disciple of someone of even higher standing. In Shaolin there was only one such person, so he was the direct disciple of the greatest under heaven, Divine Monk Muhak.
“Just what kind of disciple is he that they’ve kept him hidden so tightly until now…”
“Um. Will he be a very strong opponent?”
“When Shaolin decides to send someone, it means they have confidence in winning. Otherwise they wouldn’t bother putting forth a disciple at all.”
Shaolin’s movements were extremely weighty; they did not act except in matters of true importance. But once they moved, they could push Mount Tai aside. This was the dignity of the head of the righteous Murim and the origin of orthodox martial arts.
“He will be your semifinal opponent.”
Seomun Su-rin spoke as if stating the most obvious fact in the world.
The Hidden Dragon Tournament was divided into four blocks. If Cheong won all her matches in the third block and Wolbong won all of his in the fourth, they would meet in the semifinals.
“Ei, don’t worry about it. Your disciple is the strongest among all the rookies, Master.”
Seomun Su-rin smiled gently.
“There’s no need to feel too burdened. If you lose to a Shaolin disciple, no one in the world would find it strange. However.”
Seomun Su-rin’s eyes flashed.
“If possible, I would very much like to show the entire world the sight of my disciple defeating Shaolin.”
Cheong instinctively moved to thump her chest but stopped midway, instead clenching her fist tightly.
“Of course. Just leave it to me.”
----
When one spoke of the Murim Tournament, it was no exaggeration to say that every expert of the righteous path had gathered in one place. Therefore, any person with a sound mind would never even consider causing a disturbance at the Murim Tournament.
That is, if they possessed a sound mind.
And in Murim there were those without one—a group with the truly terrifying name of the Blood Sect.
In fact, the fact that they called themselves the Blood Sect was proof they were not in their right minds. Even the heretics refused to call them heretics, instead referring to them as the demonic path. Even the Demonic Cult’s own members called them the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult or simply the Divine Cult.
This was precisely why the Blood Sect was so notorious throughout the Central Plains. The Demonic Cult, despite its evil reputation, could ultimately be seen as barbarians who periodically invaded while shouting about conquering the Central Plains. But the Blood Sect? These bastards’ only purpose was to bring a storm of blood upon the Central Plains. They were genuine lunatics who would commit any insane act without batting an eye.
Therefore, it was not strange at all for a Blood Sect madman to suddenly appear anywhere.
And so, even in Kaifeng where the Murim Tournament was currently underway, one of the Blood Sect’s lunatics had slipped in among the crowd.
He was a demonic practitioner known throughout the kangho as the Denounced Mad Demon.