Last Vacation (6)
Meng Danya ultimately selected the three of us as the Fighting Sword Sect's representatives for the sect's sparring matches.
"We had a similar matchup last time, right?" I said to my friends, recalling our bout against the Paecheon Academy. Back then, only Meng Yuon had lost, while the two of us won.
"The order will be the same as before."
At my words, Meng Yuon's eyes sharpened with unprecedented focus, though he showed a hint of tension.
"Yuon, you didn't just play around for that week, did you?" I patted his shoulder to steady his nerves.
During that week when the Black Heaven Gang and Du Jeong-cheong had spread rumors far and wide, I'd dragged Meng Yuon into special training just in case. And that wasn't all—that was why I was confident not just in two wins, but a clean sweep of all three matches.
To me, top-grade elixirs like the Spring Breeze Pill were unnecessary, so I fed it to Meng Yuon.
In the past, I'd slain the Southeast Color Demon Hwa Wol-un and seized various treasures. One of them was the elixir Spring Breeze Pill, which I'd melted into a decoction and had Meng Yuon absorb.
Any third party would have questioned why I gave away something so precious, but to me, anything below supreme-grade was just healthy side dish.
Better to feed the Spring Breeze Pill to Meng Yuon, whose inner energy was still lacking, than hoard it myself.
That choice proved brilliant. Meng Yuon, who hadn't yet reached the Entry to Divinity stage, absorbed the Spring Breeze Pill and sparred with me multiple times as a result!
He had finally broken through to the Entry to Divinity stage, following me and Peng Jincheon.
With all members of Cheonmu Team 3 at Entry to Divinity master level, what was there to fear?
Normally, producing even one Entry to Divinity master per class at Cheonmu Academy was considered a jackpot. Yet we'd produced three. Even more astonishing, they were all in the same team—Cheonmu Team 3 was on the verge of rewriting the academy's legends, a mythic feat.
"The Fighting Sword Sect folks don't know your true strength yet. So show them properly in front of everyone."
I phrased it to ensure Meng Yuon had no choice but to win. In truth, no senior brothers had witnessed him crushing Man Beom-seong; only Meng Danya had inferred it from the aftermath.
Not just the Fighting Sword Sect—the entire Sichuan martial world underestimates Fighting Sword Sect's Meng Yuon.
We had to show them exactly who Meng Yuon was and how terrifying the Fighting Sword Sect's swift swords could be.
"Before this fateful duel between the Fighting Sword Sect and Black Heaven Gang, is there no esteemed master here to serve as witness?"
I knew Du Jeong-cheong's type. If they lost, they'd flip it like turning a hand over and pretend it never happened. So if they played dirty, I'd play smart.
"I'll do it!"
"No, me!"
As this was a major event not seen in Sichuan martial history for ages, many raised their hands to volunteer. I picked ones I knew.
Truth be told, many spectators today were plants from the Black Heaven Gang and Du Jeong-cheong to manipulate opinion. Knowing the original story well, I selected only the fairest and most upright.
"We'll select Heavenly Wind Beggar Choryeok, division leader of the Beggar Gang's Sichuan branch, and Pill Heart Old Monster Han Hwi, a longtime luminary of Sichuan's unorthodox martial world."
I quickly settled on those two. Heavenly Wind Beggar Choryeok would later rise to vice gang leader of the Beggar Gang, a man of unbroken success. Pill Heart Old Monster Han Hwi was a famed unorthodox figure with noble character, despising pettiness and holding to his own philosophy.
"That acceptable, Black Heaven Gang Lord?"
I sought Du Jeong-cheong's approval after picking them—one orthodox, one unorthodox—leaving no room for refusal.
"Doesn't matter. Do as you like."
Du Jeong-cheong smiled with his mouth, but his eyes were ice-cold, convinced my struggles were futile no matter what.
The other spectators felt the same.
"That servant Cheon Myeong's trying hard, but does he have a chance?"
"Honestly, how could the Fighting Sword Sect beat the Black Heaven Gang?"
"Let's enjoy a good massacre for once."
Our supporters were few; most had gathered to revel in what they called a slaughter of the innocent.
Just watch.
I ground my teeth. No need to grind long—the first match would flip public opinion entirely.
"Then I'll handle proceedings and officiating."
Nosy but good-hearted Heavenly Wind Beggar Choryeok stepped up.
Meng Danya and Du Jeong-cheong submitted their rosters for the three-on-three.
"Ho?"
Choryeok looked over the Black Heaven Gang and Fighting Sword Sect lists, repeatedly astonished.
The surprise at our list must be because all participants are so young.
But why the shock at theirs? It soon became clear.
"An intriguing lineup. Now, for the first match!"
Choryeok, ever the busybody who never missed Sichuan's big events and won universal favor, called out.
"First match: Fighting Sword Sect's Little Affectionate Swordsman Meng Yuon versus Black Heaven Gang's Black-Clothed Evil Sword Du Jin-bo!"
Gasps of amazement erupted the moment he finished.
Ooooh!
The reason was simple.
"Little Affectionate Swordsman, next sect leader material from Fighting Sword Sect, against Black Heaven Gang Lord's only son and young gang leader, Black-Clothed Evil Sword!"
"Unbelievable."
"A pure clash of heirs, no hired masters?"
Meng Yuon, heir and avatar of Fighting Sword Sect Lord Meng Danya, versus Du Jin-bo, Black Heaven Sword Ghost Du Jeong-cheong's sole son and young gang leader—it was plenty thrilling.
I sneaked a glance at Du Jeong-cheong. Sure enough, he wore a meaningful smile, signaling things were going as planned.
Looking back, the stark gap between Black Heaven Gang and Fighting Sword Sect was clearest in their heirs. Pitting them first would draw interest from the start, and the winner would sway reputations.
"Huhu, this'll be fun."
This was Fighting Sword Sect's turf, yet the Black Heaven Gang acted like hosts. Du Jeong-cheong had fame, but his son Du Jin-bo strode out first, claiming the arena with a grin.
"The Fighting Sword Sect was once famed in Sichuan for swift swords, right? But nothing lasts forever. Today, I'll prove just how pathetic that swift sword is."
Dogs beget dogs, cats beget cats. Meaning Du Jeong-cheong had sired a son just like him—arrogance cloned perfectly, from the sharp eyes to the haughtiness, uncanny.
"Curious? Then I'll show you."
Meng Yuon didn't bite on Du Jin-bo's psychological jab. Not like his old self, possessed by inner demons—he was utterly changed.
"Who'll win?"
"Nine out of ten—no, ten out of ten, Du Jin-bo."
"Right. He's inherited every ultimate technique from his father Du Jeong-cheong; already a peak master."
"Compared to that, Meng Yuon looks merely first-rate?"
That was the cold public verdict. But they didn't know Meng Yuon—or us—at all.
No need to rise or fall on the babble of the ignorant.
I patted Meng Yuon's back.
"Show them the greatness of the Fighting Sword Sect."
That was enough.
Smooth!
Was it my words? Gentle, even timid Meng Yuon's eyes flashed changed in an instant—the gaze of a swordsman unleashing lightning-swift blades, one I knew well.
"Oh? Eyes changed. Guess I can't hold back on killing you."
If Du Jeong-cheong was the pack leader scanning broadly like a beast, Du Jin-bo was the immature cub. He was raring to charge before it even started.
"Prepare."
Both walked the path of the sword.
"Young hero Cheon Myeong. Our Yuon will win, of course?"
Before the match, Meng Yuon's senior brothers crowded me anxiously, stomping their feet. They'd only seen his angry or uncontrolled excited sides, so no confidence.
"Yuon is far stronger than you think."
I declared boldly, and my cherished Meng Yuon didn't make a liar of me.
"Match begin!"
Heavenly Wind Beggar Choryeok's call rang out.
"Die!"
Black-Clothed Evil Sword Du Jin-bo's blade flashed, honed to the edge.
This was the Black Heaven Flying Sword Bullet, a technique Black Heaven Sword Ghost Du Jeong-cheong had established and refined from his family arts—classified as flying sword or swift sword arts.
In other words, similar in nature to the Fighting Sword Sect's prized Fighting Dragon Swift Dragon Sword Method. Thus, the first to strike held the advantage.
Paaaat!
Like a massive bullet firing, Du Jin-bo's sword light spewed ominous black as it hurtled toward Meng Yuon's brow.
Ooooh!
Admiration burst everywhere at Du Jin-bo seizing momentum from the start, boldly targeting the head.
Even in that split second, reactions varied: astonished sighs from spectators, Black Heaven Gang crowing premature victory, even Du Jeong-cheong. Some of Meng Yuon's seniors already hung their heads in despair.
But we knew Yuon's true power well.
Paat!
Du Jin-bo's sword pierced something—but not Meng Yuon's head.
Just his upper garment.
That's right.
Yuon had no interest in a preemptive strike from the start.
As the hyped Du Jin-bo lunged first, he'd yielded initiative, aiming for the counter.
Especially since Black Heaven Flying Sword Bullet's single strike was immensely powerful and fast, but missed, it exposed glaring flaws.
"That's it!"
"Go!"
As Du Jin-bo tangled in Meng Yuon's garment, flustered, Peng Jincheon and I clenched fists and shouted.
We instinctively knew.
This clash of sect heirs wouldn't drag on.
No—it'd end incredibly short.
Before the thought finished, Meng Yuon proved himself.
The dazzling swift sword initial form that had felled the brutal twin evils Man Beom-seong last time—Fighting Dragon Flash Sword—exploded forth.
Ssaeaeng!
So swift the naked eye could barely track it. By the time spectators registered the sound—
Seok!
The mad-fast blade had pierced Du Jin-bo's shoulder.
They'd traded blows, but the gap was vast. One sliced empty air and ruined clothes; the other lured perfectly, shattering the foe's shoulder. Victory was obvious.
"Arghhh!"
Shoulder pierced, Du Jin-bo collapsed to his knees. Meng Yuon pointedly rested his sword on the boy's chin.
"Shall we continue?"