An Arrow Unleashed
On the opening day of the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering, a massive crowd swarmed the tournament grounds. Despite the early morning hour, Dengfeng County bustled with the noisy chatter of people gathered from all corners of the land. Merchants carrying heavy bundles, martial artists brimming with righteous spirit, and spectators from far and wide—so many diverse people had converged that Dengfeng County could practically rival the capital.
Unwol's party and Yeon So-o parted ways upon entering the arena. The participating martial artists had to wait in the first-floor waiting room, while the spectators headed to the second- and third-floor viewing galleries.
"Good luck," Unwol said.
"I will show you good results," Yeon So-o replied, looking at Unwol with eyes full of determination as she bid him farewell.
Seeing her like that, Unwol felt relieved and let slip a faint smile. The anxiety she had shown a few days ago had largely vanished. In truth, the deep-seated anxiety within Yeon So-o hadn't completely disappeared, but it had eased significantly since her meeting with Seo Ryeon.
Unwol watched her back until she disappeared from view. Once she was completely gone, he headed toward the first-class viewing box that Lee Hak had prepared.
Given the sheer volume of people attending the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering, ordinary seats were bound to be incredibly uncomfortable. Packed shoulder-to-shoulder, even going to the restroom was an ordeal, and the cramped seats made sitting for long periods a chore. However, the first-class viewing box Lee Hak had arranged was actually a private suite. Not only was it spacious, but it also came with a bed, making it feel more like a luxury guest room than a mere seat. Furthermore, being on the third floor, it offered an unobstructed view of the ordinary seats on the second floor and the sparring stages on the first floor.
Unwol felt a wave of relief as he looked down at the tightly packed crowd on the second floor.
"If not for Lee Hak, I would have suffered quite a bit."
While Biwol seemed to possess the most straightforward loyalty, it was actually Lee Hak who provided the most practical assistance. Unwol felt a bit apologetic to Biwol, but his trust in Lee Hak was growing day by day.
Shortly after, prominent figures of the orthodox sects stepped forward to greet the crowd one by one. First was a high monk from the Shaolin Temple, followed by sects Unwol didn't recognize. Not that he cared in the first place. Of course, he did remember that the Namgung Clan, which he at least knew a little about, came out second. In any case, none of this was important to Unwol right now.
The head of the Yeon Family—Yeon So-o's flesh and blood, and the very reason she was so determined to achieve great results—also stepped onto the stage and greeted the crowd in a booming voice.
"We, the Yeon Family, also hope this sacred Dragon and Phoenix Gathering serves as a wonderful opportunity and experience for our young hugi-jisu!"
Judging by the fierce countenance of the family head, Unwol guessed the man possessed formidable physical strength. With his prominent cheekbones and massive build, Unwol wondered if he had Mongolian ancestry. Of course, Unwol didn't have a detailed knowledge of ethnic physical traits, so it was merely a vague guess, and not particularly precise. However, given that the distant ancestors of the Yeon Family actually did have Mongolian roots, it was a surprisingly sharp observation.
Afterward, the announcer stepped up to explain the schedule for the tournament.
"The Dragon and Phoenix Gathering will take place over a total of three days!"
As it turned out, because of the sheer number of participants, it was impossible to settle everything in just a day or two. Over a hundred young martial artists had poured their blood, sweat, and tears into preparing for this day. Rather than rushing through the matches, the tournament allowed ample time for each individual to fully display their skills. Consequently, even with four sparring stages running simultaneously, the event would take three days to complete.
The announcer's explanation dragged on for quite some time. Just as the crowd was beginning to grow restless, the announcer declared the start of the matches, and the doors to the waiting rooms swung open.
There were four sparring stages in total, with three triangularly arranged stages surrounding a central one. Naturally, the matches of the highly anticipated martial artists were held on the central stage to ensure maximum visibility. Indeed, the martial artists fighting in the center possessed far superior skills compared to those on the outer stages, and the crowd's cheers for them were noticeably more passionate.
By coincidence, the opening match featured Chang-gung, the Hainan Sect disciple Unwol had met before, and Gong Cheong, a disciple of the Wudang Sect.
"Hmm. He didn't seem like anything special when I saw him before."
Though Unwol didn't expect much, he focused on the match since it was at least a familiar face.
"Begin!"
The moment the announcer gave the signal, the two martial artists quickly leaped back to create distance, warily observing each other's movements. As they engaged in a tense battle of nerves with swords pointed at one another, it was Chang-gung who thrust first. His sword lunged forward with a fluid, natural motion, yet it was so fast that one could easily miss it in the blink of an eye. If the Jeomchang Sect's leaping attacks were like arrows, the Hainan Sect's leaping attacks were like a swift, rushing current. Though slightly slower than Jeomchang's, the trajectory of Hainan's strikes was incredibly flexible.
However, the Wudang Sect was renowned for its defensive prowess.
Clang!
Gong Cheong swung his sword to form a defensive barrier, dispersing Chang-gung's leaping attack. Immediately following was Gong Cheong's counterattack. Dismantling his barrier, he launched a sharp thrust at the retreating Chang-gung.
Whoosh!
But Chang-gung nimbly shifted his feet, evading Gong Cheong's thrust. While the Wudang Sect excelled at blocking, the Hainan Sect excelled at dodging. They were warriors trained to fight while maintaining their balance on turbulent waters. In other words, on solid ground, their exceptionally trained legs allowed them to move with incredible speed.
After dodging with fluid grace, Chang-gung immediately targeted Gong Cheong's flank. Seeing Gong Cheong attempt to block naturally once again, Chang-gung smirked.
"Do you think I'll let you block it the same way twice?!"
He abruptly altered his sword path, aiming for the Wudang disciple's rear.
"Hup!"
With the sudden change in the attack's direction, Gong Cheong aborted his barrier and hastily twisted his body to block. Because it was an unprepared defense, he couldn't deflect the blow cleanly, causing him to stumble. Gong Cheong tried to regain his balance, but Chang-gung did not miss this opening.
Thwack! Thwack!
The sharp cracks of wooden swords colliding echoed through the air. The hallmark of Hainan swordsmanship was its relentless, wave-like onslaught—fast and fluid. It was a terrible matchup for the Wudang style, which relied on steadfast defense and deliberate counterattacks. A seasoned Wudang master would have blocked and countered even such erratic strikes, but Gong Cheong, who had only recently reached the Peak Realm, lacked that level of mastery.
Crack!
"Ugh?!"
Failing to block in time, Gong Cheong took a heavy blow to his ribs, a pained groan escaping his lips. With that, his balance crumbled at an accelerating pace. Chang-gung pressed his advantage without giving him a moment to breathe. Growing increasingly overwhelmed, Gong Cheong finally lost his grip on his wooden sword.
Clatter!
Gong Cheong's wooden sword spun through the air and clattered onto the stage floor.
"Winner, Chang-gung of the Hainan Sect!"
Whoaaa!
Yeahhhh!
The crowd erupted into thunderous cheers for the two martial artists who had put on such a splendid display.
Only after the match ended did Chang-gung finally catch his breath. In truth, he too had been pushed to his physical limits. If Gong Cheong had held out just a little longer, Chang-gung might have collapsed from exhaustion first. Still panting heavily, Chang-gung extended a hand to Gong Cheong, who had fallen backward.
"That was a good match."
"I have learned much from you."
Gong Cheong grinned, taking Chang-gung's hand to pull himself up.
"They say the martial artists of the Hainan Sect strike like crashing waves, and it seems the rumors are true."
"You flatter me. I was deeply impressed by the Wudang Sect's ironclad defense."
It was a beautiful display of sportsmanship, with both acknowledging each other's skill regardless of victory or defeat. Seeing this, the crowd cheered even louder.
"That was amazing!"
"Gong Cheong!"
"True martial artists!"
With mutual bows, the two stepped down from the stage.
"Next up, Yeon So-o of the Jeomchang Sect versus Gyeon To of the Beggars' Sect!"
"Hmm?"
Unwol's eyes widened the moment Yeon So-o's name was called. Just a moment ago, he had been watching with his chin resting on his hand, but now, simply hearing her name made him lean forward in intense concentration.
Emerging from the waiting room with her white robes fluttering, Yeon So-o looked like a flower drifting in the wind. Unwol wasn't the only one captivated; the spectators, who usually cheered boisterously, fell silent, staring at her in awe. Even the announcer lost his tongue for a moment before quickly snapping out of it.
"Begin!"
The moment the signal was given, Gyeon To of the Beggars' Sect took his stance and spoke in a grating, mocking tone.
"They call you the Sword Flower because of your swordsmanship, right? But in the end, you're just a greenhouse flower. You're far from ready to face a martial artist like me, who's bred on real street fights."
In truth, Gyeon To didn't actually look down on Yeon So-o. He was merely taunting her to break her concentration. In battle, losing one's composure was a direct path to defeat. Gyeon To knew this well from his countless street fights. Because he recognized her as a dangerous opponent, he was employing this psychological tactic.
However, his strategy backfired spectacularly. Yeon So-o, who had originally intended to start at a moderate pace, felt her pride stung. Consequently, she decided to put her absolute full power into her leaping strike. Her sharp gaze locked onto Gyeon To's solar plexus.
Slide.
Her right foot slid backward as her upper body leaned forward. It was an extreme stance, her center of gravity shifted entirely to unleash an explosive burst of speed at any second. Seeing this, Gyeon To realized a blindingly fast, linear attack was coming. He began weaving side to side, trying to throw off her aim. But it was a futile effort. Yeon So-o's sharp eyes had already locked onto his solar plexus as her target, and the bowstring was already drawn to its absolute limit.
Swish!
In an instant, Yeon So-o's figure vanished. Even though Gyeon To had all his senses on high alert, it felt as if she had completely disappeared.
"Huh—?"
Crack!
Then came the sound of the air tearing apart.
"..."
Before he could even register it, Yeon So-o's wooden sword was already buried in his solar plexus. Unable to react, he took the full force of the blow directly to his vital spot.
Thud!
The solar plexus is a lethal vital point. A bad hit could kill a person instantly. Thanks to his martial arts training, Gyeon To barely clung to life, but he collapsed instantly, his eyes rolling back into his head before he could even scream. His mouth hung open as if trying to groan, but no sound came out. The match was over.
Whoosh.
Out of habit, Yeon So-o snapped her wooden sword downward as if flicking blood off the blade. A gust of wind whipped up, sending her hair and white robes fluttering elegantly.
A single strike.
It was a staggering moment—the very first match of the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering to be decided in a single blow.