Special Skills Supremacy (8)
The martial art that everyone at Cheonmu Academy had ignored due to its harsh training conditions—the Cold Seal Palm, which had been fading into obscurity despite its tremendous power—unleashed a ferocious chill as if venting all its past grievances.
With my vast inner energy added to the mix, it was like a fish in water.
Pa-aaah!
Cold flowers of ice began blooming from my palm. The overwhelming frigid energy shot straight forward, slamming down toward Yeom Cheon Gyeong's abdomen with enough force to pierce right through him.
"Guh! U-urgh!"
Even Yeom Cheon Gyeong, the natural-born brawler whose body was built entirely of muscle and known as the Heavenly Evil Fighting Fist, was utterly helpless. He'd taken the blow square to his unguarded stomach—no one short of the head of the Heavenly Throw Sect could have withstood it.
Ku-uuung!
In the end, Yeom Cheon Gyeong collapsed on the spot, crumbling like a fortress toppled.
"Huuuuh."
With the long, brutal battle finally over, I let out a deep sigh of relief and released my energy. At last, I'd defeated Yeom Cheon Gyeong, the strongest late-stage talent in the evil factions.
In truth, even I had consumed a massive amount of inner energy and mental strength, so fatigue was crashing over me. But regardless...
......!!
The crowd around us was too stunned by the unbelievable outcome to even cheer. When shock hits that hard, words fail and mouths hang open—and right now, hundreds were experiencing it all at once.
But it didn't last long.
"Wooah! Wooaaaah!"
Meng Yuon forgot even the bitter pain of his defeat, screaming like a madman from his small frame. That set it off—everyone from Cheonmu Academy, instructors and cadets alike, hugged and shouted without restraint.
Uwaaaaaah!
No one could stay composed amid this insane comeback. Bluntly put, very few had bet on my victory. No, perhaps only one or two had foreseen such a perfect triumph.
Yeom Cheon Gyeong had been that formidable—a monumental obstacle, the evil factions' top late-stage talent. Beating him was nothing short of a miracle.
"Cheon Myeong! My friend Cheon Myeong!"
Even Peng Jincheon, the Little Dragon Blade who rarely lost his cool, was jumping around like a kid. And the others? It was beyond words.
"My god, my god!"
Baek Ho Jun, the Flame Flower Divine Army and academy head who led Cheonmu Academy—one of the Ten Great Warriors of the world—was on his feet, speechless. Unlike his signature blazing solar arts, he usually kept his emotions in check, but now he was showing his passionate side in full.
"Hahaha! Who scouted that kid, anyway?"
Dan Ri-cheong, the Soft Wind Silver Sword, was cracking jokes to amplify the joy.
If Cheonmu Academy was this ecstatic, imagine the mood in the evil faction's Pae Cheon Academy camp. It was so oppressively gloomy you could barely approach.
"......Impossible. This... this can't be real."
Ok Ji-san, who'd brought Pae Cheon Academy, was so shocked he couldn't even look at Yeom Cheon Gyeong collapsed in the center of the training ground, his face utterly defeated.
The evil faction healers from Pae Cheon Academy were the same—they'd been ready to fight over treating their own warrior, but now they were too stunned to even start healing.
"This is insane! How does this even make sense?"
Even Im Cho-a, the Ice Evil Wanderer from the same faction, was spewing her signature sharp-tongued curses while staring at me like I was a Martial God. Her gaze had shifted from disdain to a hint of admiration and envy.
"Yeom Cheon Gyeong......"
Tak Gong, the elite assassin from the Extreme Killing Sect who'd beaten Meng Yuon, had always been quiet, but now he was even more so.
"Victory for Cheonmu Academy's Cheon Myeong! With this... the overall score is 3 to 2, making this exchange match a win for Cheonmu Academy!"
In front of the Pae Cheon Academy group, which had turned into a funeral parlor, Dan Ri-cheong unleashed his signature bright madness. Some Pae Cheon cadets were sobbing in denial, and declaring victory right there? Truly the act of a mad genius.
"......"
Ok Ji-san, who would've normally protested, was just enduring the devastating shock in silence.
Unable to watch anymore, I approached the fallen Yeom Cheon Gyeong.
"Good fight."
Now he surely understood that showing off always leads to defeat.
"Moon Maiden Palace arts and cold-attribute techniques. Who... who the hell are you?"
Yeom Cheon Gyeong shoved aside the evil faction healers who'd belatedly rushed in, staring straight at me. His eyes were so pitiful and hollow I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.
In the original Seven Falls, Eight Rises: The Invincible Fist King, there's a similar scene.
Sadly, the one getting that question wasn't the protagonist Cheon Myeong, but his archrival, the Heavenly Dragon Sovereign Sword Baek Muhon. And Baek Muhon responded with storm-level coolness:
—I'm just Baek Muhon.
That simple, nonchalant line was so badass I must've asked my maternal uncle the author a dozen times if Cheon Myeong or Baek Muhon was the real protagonist. The protagonist suffered endlessly while the rival breezed through— the story was going off the rails.
As if making up for that grievance now, I replied flatly.
"I'm Cheon Myeong of Cheonmu Academy."
I turned and walked away from Yeom Cheon Gyeong without a backward glance, descending from the training ground. The pose must've looked pretty cool, because cheers erupted.
Ooooh!
So this was why Baek Muhon delivered that line. I finally got it.
"Cheon Myeong... of Cheonmu Academy."
From behind, Yeom Cheon Gyeong muttered hollowly before confessing softly.
"I was a frog in a well."
Yeah, good that he realized it now. Later, the Heavenly Evil Fighting Fist Yeom Cheon Gyeong rampaged unstoppable, his arrogance piercing the heavens—until the evil factions' strongest warrior appeared out of nowhere, demoting him from top dog to second fiddle. But that was the future anyway.
"Vice Head Ok Ji-san of Pae Cheon Academy. Do you acknowledge the defeat?"
Baek Ho Jun, who'd recovered his energy and was now bouncing with glee, faced off with Ok Ji-san.
"......Urk!"
Overwhelmed by the humiliation, Ok Ji-san hesitated before tucking tail.
"We acknowledge it."
He probably wanted to launch a sneak attack and flee, but this was deep in enemy territory: Cheonmu Academy.
"We made a bet, didn't we?"
Baek Ho Jun was reveling in his winner's rights, grinning nonstop. He'd clearly been itching to crush Ok Ji-san, the one who'd proposed the wager first. Honestly, even I thought our odds were low, but my comeback clinched it—he had to be cheering inwardly.
"D-Did we...?"
Ok Ji-san tried to play dumb, but there were too many witnesses. Even a shameless rogue like him couldn't push it further.
"We did."
Baek Ho Jun's grin turned fierce, warning that denial would earn a taste of his Flame Flower Divine Art. No matter Ok Ji-san's hidden strength beyond his reputation, he couldn't match one of the Ten Great Warriors. He caved with a whimper.
"R-Right, yes. So... Pae Cheon Academy's banner..."
Shiver, shiver!
Ok Ji-san trembled with humiliation, handing over Pae Cheon Academy's symbolic red banner—its proud tradition—like a man struck by palsy.
"As expected, Vice Head Ok keeps his promises well. Uhahahahaha!"
Finally seizing the banner from his hated rivals, Baek Ho Jun burst into his heartiest laugh yet.
Kuhuhuhuk!
When one side laughs, the other weeps. Behind Ok Ji-san, several young Pae Cheon cadets sobbed pitifully. But they couldn't take the banner back.
If the evil faction bastards had taken our Cheonmu Academy banner, they'd have hoarded it for generations just to mock us.
So we'd display it proudly too, then maybe use it as leverage against Pae Cheon Academy later.
"Alright, the exchange match between our academies is over—let's swap stories over drinks!"
Baek Ho Jun revealed the pre-prepared feast to soothe them a bit, but who could enjoy a party at a funeral? Ok Ji-san and his cadets barely pretended to eat.
"Academy Head Baek. We have a long way to go... may we leave first?"
Ok Ji-san forced the words out, face twisted in restraint.
"Puhahat! Ahem, puhep! Khm! Of, of course!"
It was so ridiculous Baek Ho Jun forgot decorum, giggling uncontrollably.
"Farewell then. See you next time."
Baek Ho Jun and Dan Ri-cheong saw off the Pae Cheon group fleeing like fugitives with insincere words. He even brought me along, treating me with such lavish praise it was embarrassing.
Ku-ung!
With Pae Cheon Academy fully departed and the exchange match concluded, Baek Ho Jun and Dan Ri-cheong finally unleashed their pent-up laughter.
"Hahahahaha!"
"Vice Head, did you see Ok Ji-san's face earlier?"
The instructors and cadets were just as thrilled. No one could complain about the victors enjoying it—Pae Cheon's manners had been abysmal, so this was karma.
"Oh, and to our upper-class cadets who fought so brilliantly against Pae Cheon Academy—all of you did wonderfully. Thank you."
Once the excitement died down, Baek Ho Jun regained his composure as academy head.
"Also, I made a promise before the fights: to the one who shone brightest in this exchange, I'd personally teach my Flame Tiger Double Claw."
Ah, right—I'd forgotten about that reward. Bluntly, there was only one candidate. Me. Not self-praise; undeniable fact.
"And that star is, of course, upper-class cadet Cheon Myeong!"
Baek Ho Jun approached, showering me with praise.
"This cadet Cheon Myeong is a born genius. He might be Cheonmu Academy's greatest graduate ever."
Dan Ri-cheong chimed in too. Always impeccable in conduct and quick to learn, I helped out often—it was his way of saying give more rewards.
"For such meritorious service, I must teach you the Flame Tiger Double Claw. And that's not all?"
Buoyed by the unexpected win, Baek Ho Jun's generosity swelled. He even promised rewards to Peng Jincheon and Meng Yuon, who'd joined the Special Skills Supremacy.
"These two friends fought fiercely too—no skimping on their prizes."
And so, the time had come for Cheon Myeong and his two friends to truly take flight.