Entrance Exam (5)
I didn't even need to go all out. In terms of total internal energy volume, Huang Bo Taejin of the Giant Force Fist might have had more and stronger reserves, but when it came to a direct clash of internal arts, nothing could overwhelm like the Myth Heart Method.
The Myth Heart Method was like a royal flush in poker, or the unbeatable three-eight light beam in baduk. And sure enough—
Paat!
The moment I lightly circulated the Myth Heart Method, a brilliant light flared around me.
"Wh-what?"
Huang Bo Taejin let out a groan of bewilderment right from the start.
"Hahaha, that guy's messing around."
"Ends like that the second it begins?"
"No way, that's bullshit!"
The spectators burst into laughter at the absurd, unrealistic reaction, assuming Huang Bo Taejin was putting on a show. After all, since his older brother had gotten thoroughly trounced by me earlier, it looked like he was dramatically paying it back in kind.
But the reality was different.
The Myth Heart Method's cheat-like power lies in suppressing and crushing the opponent's internal energy.
And that was just the beginning. In a confrontation, it excelled at swiftly dominating the foe.
"Urk—!"
In the end, Huang Bo Taejin couldn't hold out long. He staggered and was pushed back in a steady slide.
I stood firm in place, while he retreated until their palms separated. It was obvious who had won.
Ju-reuk!
A thin trickle of blood even dripped from Huang Bo Taejin's mouth.
I knew exactly where that blood had come from.
To others, it might look like Huang Bo Taejin crumbled too easily and it ended quick, but hell no.
He'd clenched his teeth to the limit, holding on as long as he could. As a result, he'd taken minor internal injuries, manifesting as blood trickling from his mouth.
The impossible outcome left the crowd frozen. They were so stunned they couldn't make a sound, holding their breath to see how far this would go.
"Wh-what the...!"
The most shocked of all was undoubtedly Huang Bo Taejin himself. He'd poured everything into it, unleashing his full power, only to feel like he'd punched a massive wall.
"Still don't get it?"
As everyone stood dumbfounded, Dan Ri-cheong smirked and explained.
"Cheon Myeong's internal heart method there is just superior. It overwhelmed Huang Bo Taejin easily."
Ooooooh!
Only then did the crowd grasp it, erupting in cheers all at once.
Looking back, it was incredibly rare in the entrance exam for an unknown master to unilaterally crush a prestigious family's later-generation disciple.
Most entrants to Cheonmu Academy are from the Five Great Families or the Nine Great Sects and One Gang, so it's practically their private party.
Yet here was this guy named Cheon Myeong, with zero prior info, suddenly appearing and knocking down Huangbo Clan heavyweights one after another. No one dared look down on me anymore.
"Cheon Myeong! Cheon Myeong!"
"Incredible!"
"Yeah, the martial world isn't just the Nine Great Sects, One Gang, and Five Great Families."
"We want fresh faces!"
Most still stared in a daze, but a minority cheered wildly for the dark horse. They were like me—nameless wanderers, from minor sects, or ronin with no backing.
They watched my fierce struggle and triumph as if seeing themselves, thrilled beyond measure.
"Thank you!"
I clasped my hands in a formal fist salute toward my fervent fans, then stood.
And with a wave to Huang Bo Taejin, who was being carried off due to his injuries—
See ya.
At least his big brother would be waiting by his hospital bed; he wouldn't be lonely.
"Cheon Myeong wins the second gate too!"
As Huang Bo Taejin was hauled away by the instructors, Dan Ri-cheong declared the victory.
I couldn't contain my joy, clenching my fist tight.
Thinking back, in the real world, I'd been just another nobody in the crowd like those spectators—never in the spotlight.
When was the last time I'd drawn this much attention and wild cheers?
Thump-thump!
Feeling my heart pound fiercely, I realized the path ahead. It was time to get used to this, not just be surprised.
"Huuu."
Having splendidly claimed victory in the second gate, I headed to the area for passers.
"That's the guy..."
"Cheon Myeong, right?"
"Whatever the third gate is, don't pick him."
Even among the passers, my reputation wasn't bad now. No—some outright refused to draw me.
In the end, reputation was something you forged yourself.
Wonder what the third gate is?
I tamped down my excitement, pondering the third—and final—gate of the entrance exam.
As I vaguely recalled, there were three trials total. Pass this, and I'd enter Cheonmu Academy, just like the original Cheon Myeong dreamed.
Obvious, isn't it?
I easily guessed the third gate. First was bare-handed combat, second internal energy. So the third would combine both, right?
"The second gate is over. Only half of half the participants remain."
As my thoughts neared the truth, Dan Ri-cheong mounted the training ground.
As he said, each gate halved the numbers. And with some mutual destructions or double knockouts in the first and second rounds, even fewer remained.
"Making it this far proves you're all decent in your own right. Be proud."
Dan Ri-cheong smiled warmly—a rare kind word from him, I think.
"The Cheonmu Academy entrance exam is down to its finale. Just the third gate left. If you've got brains along with your fighting skills, you've probably guessed what it is."
Glancing around at his words, sure enough—not just me, many predicted a blend of bare-handed and internal energy: proper one-on-one sparring.
"Right. The final gate is one-on-one sparring! Like the second gate, the first to the central training ground picks someone who looks easy."
As expected, not plain one-on-one. Again, survival of the fittest—pick the weak or settle grudges.
The moment Dan Ri-cheong finished, participants rushed to prepare leaping onto the ground.
They figured first-come, first-served like before, calling out opponents.
"No blood allowed, so use wooden swords or spears. Stop the instant a winner's clear—no lethal strikes. Kill your opponent, and you're disqualified on the spot."
One-on-one was fairly free. No real swords since they were still unproven sprouts, not full martial artists. No rule like swordsmen vs. swordsmen either.
Pick anyone who annoyed you or looked easy.
"Um... Vice Headmaster? One question?"
Someone raised a hand—a stuffy-looking scholar type, surely from Zhuge Clan or ink-stained nobility.
"Go ahead."
"Why first-come-first-served? Later picks face only the strong, so don't we lose talent from Cheonmu Academy's view?"
It made sense. A proper setup might rank by prior gates and let higher scores pick first for advantage.
But Soft Wind Silver Sword Dan Ri-cheong's answer was simple.
"Winners win even in bad conditions. The current martial world is harsher and more ruthless. Coddle them fair and they'll be orchids in a greenhouse."
A moment proving Dan Ri-cheong wasn't just some thoughtless eccentric.
And one more thing.
"We'll pick promising losers from the third gate too. Slim chance, though. Kahahaha!"
Dan Ri-cheong laughed heartily, hands clasped in delight. He wasn't one for empty words.
Lose, and 99% elimination.
"Begin!"
Woooaaah!
Thus, chaos and pandemonium returned once more. First-mover advantage had been proven in the second gate.
What a madhouse.
I watched quietly, waiting my turn. Never one to rush first, someone would call me eventually.
But what was this?
My strong showings in the first two gates? No one called me, no matter how long I waited.
This is trouble.
I scanned around, growing a bit anxious. The later it got, the stronger the remnants—dilly-dallying gained nothing.
Right then—
"I'll pick that Cheon Myeong over there!"
As the third gate neared its end, someone finally called my name.
And it was...
Little Dragon Blade Peng Jincheon!
Incredibly, it was Peng Jincheon, a solid supporting character from the Seven Strikes, Eight Rises: Invincible Fist King.
A man who'd rise to World's Greatest Blade Master in the latter half, with deep loyalty.
I was briefly puzzled why he'd pick me, but the reason soon emerged.
"Mind if I ask why me?"
Peng Jincheon, boasting a frame as massive as Giant Force Fist Huang Bo Taeung, replied.
Today was the day for giants' affection—Huang Bo Taejin too.
"No grudge. If I had to say..."
Where Huang brothers were fierce grizzlies, this guy had dark farmer's skin and a gentle half-moon bear vibe.
"...Northern Peng Clan and Huangbo Clan are tight allies, so maybe that?"
I got it instantly. When Maternal Uncle and I set up families, Huangbo and Northern Peng—as Mid-Plains Five Great Families allies—shared the "massive build" cliché, so we made them best friends.
Thus, he'd chosen me for downing Huang Bo Taeung and Taejin.
Yeah. And Blade Dragon—no, currently Little Dragon Blade—Peng Jincheon values loyalty and family. A warm soul.
Unlike the arrogant Huang Bo Taeung, different grain. Couldn't name others without cause, so he found an excuse: me.
Despite plenty of easier marks than this Cheon Myeong, he prioritized justification.
That was why Peng Jincheon was one of my favorite characters.
I knew he'd awaken later as Blade Dragon and shine, but meeting in the entrance exam? Didn't expect that.
Facing him, a mystical thrill washed over me. Sparring a beloved novel character in person—joy or sorrow, who knew?
"Got it. Makes sense."
I nodded politely, accepting, then loosened up calmly.
Weird facing a fave in this cutthroat spot where only one advances, but now was for focus.
Crack!
I stretched, wrapping my fists in linen cloth. Peng Jincheon gravely selected a wooden sword, then leaped to the training ground.
A clash between the just-rising protagonist and a high-potential supporting character with major role lined up.
Who would claim victory?