The Inn's Cliché (2)
I smiled and threw his words right back at him. I was no longer at a level where I had to watch my step around other experts or hold back. On the contrary, I'd reached a position where I could deliver a proper lesson to an arrogant later-generation punk like him.
"What did you say?"
The haughty-faced Hak Dongrip's eyebrows twitched as he reacted immediately. Unless he was an idiot, he'd realize I'd just parroted his own words back to him.
"If you're so curious about my skills, I'm more than willing to show you."
Without another word, I stood up and headed toward Hak Dongrip. I hadn't expected things to escalate this far, either.
Clichés are clichés for a reason.
Getting picked on at an inn—who would've thought? No wonder martial arts novels always featured those inn brawl scenes. I felt a strange amusement at the realization as I made my proposal to Azure Cloud One Sword Hak Dongrip of the Qingcheng Sect.
"You seem awfully curious about my skills. Care to spar?"
Hak Dongrip had been picking pointless fights partly out of jealousy, but mostly because he was dying to know if my reputation was all it was cracked up to be. Perfect timing, too—after that long journey, my body was itching for a fight. No reason to turn it down.
In fact, along the way here, more than a few thugs had eyed me up, figuring my infamous reputation made me an easy mark for boosting their own fame. All talk and no substance, they thought.
"Ho, pretty confident, aren't you? Think you can handle it? My sword's pretty rough."
Hak Dongrip tapped the blue silk-wrapped sword symbolizing the Qingcheng Sect, his competitive spirit flaring. Surprisingly, he didn't back down despite my aggression, though he was clearly flustered.
"No matter how rough or impressive your sword is, I doubt it measures up to Black Heaven Sword Ghost Du Jeong-cheong."
I unleashed some verbal prowess to match my martial skills.
Ooooh!
Gasps of admiration erupted from around the inn at my bold declaration. Let's be real: after taking down a mid-tier Sichuan expert and Entry to Divinity master like the Black Heaven Sect Leader, why would I fear some later-generation nobody like Hak Dongrip?
At best, he's barely scraping the entry level of Entry to Divinity.
Far from scary, he almost seemed endearing.
Tremble tremble!
Hak Dongrip shuddered at my words, his face flushing beet red as he failed to hide his excitement.
"If you're that confident, let's spar then."
Chaeng!
With that, he drew his sword—the tip shaking from sheer rage.
Strong for his age, but still a greenhorn.
A shaky sword tip meant a shaky heart. His skills were impressive for his years, but while he knew how to wield a blade, he hadn't yet mastered controlling his mind.
"A straight fight would be boring. This is an inn full of people, after all... How about the loser pays for everyone's meals today, plus compensation to the innkeeper for any damage we cause?"
We'd be inconveniencing the other guests anyway, so this seemed fair. More importantly, I wanted to teach this cocky kid that real lessons come from actual combat. He was older than me, but he had plenty to learn.
"Oh? Is that so? Sounds... like a good idea."
Mentioning the crowd size and compensation made him waver, but he bluffed it off. A promising Qingcheng disciple or not, he was still a nobody with empty pockets.
"Fine. Let's start right now."
I glanced at Peng Jincheon and Meng Yuon as I spoke. My two friends, already anticipating the fun, eagerly cleared space around us by shoving tables back. The inn's high ceiling was perfect, and with their help, we had plenty of room.
Even if tables break or the inn takes damage, no problem.
Why? Because I'd win, and that clueless Hak Dongrip would foot every bill.
"I'll even yield the first move. Go ahead."
Just before the spar began, I generously offered him the initiative.
"Y-you bastard."
Hak Dongrip faltered again at my words. Yielding the first strike in a one-on-one duel was something you only did against weaker foes or juniors. For me—a kid three or four years younger, not even a full-fledged martial artist yet—to offer it was downright humiliating.
"Start whenever you're ready."
I ignored his reaction, casually assuming my stance. I'd yielded both the start and the first attack.
Grind!
Hak Dongrip ground his teeth, gripping his sword fiercely in fury. Already pissed, the yielded first move pushed him into a "screw it" mindset, and he lunged savagely.
Azure Cloud One Sword Hak Dongrip was grinding his teeth hard. For his opening move, he unleashed the Qingcheng Sect's advanced technique, Clear Wind Ancient Moon Sword—a clear sign of how heated he was.
Even more so.
Paaaat!
He summoned a massive sword wind capable of devastating the vast inn in an instant. The force from that single stroke shattered tables and expensive decorations alike.
I sensed it immediately from his display.
This guy doesn't think he'll lose at all.
With the loser covering all damages, he was clearly trying to trash the place to screw me over.
But what to do? I had no intention of losing.
Fast, bold, and impressively refined for his age.
True to his status as the top later-generation disciple of the famed sword sect Qingcheng, his speed was top-notch, and the substance behind it was solid. No trace of the clumsiness typical in young swordsmen—it drew admiration from the crowd.
Even in that split-second clash, I analyzed his sword.
What did that mean?
It was painfully slow to me.
Slip!
I casually stepped back. No need for Half-Step, Illusion Body Flight, or any evasion arts. Those were for when I felt threatened—and I didn't.
A mere step back.
Woooong!
His rage-filled sword cleaved empty air. It had missed my neck and only wounded innocent atmosphere.
After fully dodging, I began instructing him as a senior expert schooling a junior.
"Not bad. Strong. Threatening enough for anyone under twenty."
As I said, Azure Cloud One Sword Hak Dongrip was genuinely powerful. Compared to Cheonmu Academy cadets, only the top three in the third class outmatched him.
But he lacked one thing: experience losing to his peers.
Whoaaa! Whoaaaa!
Dodging his furious first strike without lightness skills or evasion techniques left the crowd stunned. He'd attacked with gritted teeth, dead serious—and I'd evaded effortlessly while commenting.
"You bastard! Youuuu!"
Frustrated and enraged that his opener failed, Hak Dongrip swung again. The first had dropped from above with speed and power; this one surged up from below.
Not bad this time either. If I had to nitpick, it was predictable.
Nice in a righteous way—or boring and clichéd for a righteous sect's later-generation disciple.
Whish!
I leaped lightly upward, looking down on him. His strike futilely split the midsection, packed with so much qi that his waist twist was visible to the naked eye.
"Azure Cloud One Sword Hak Dongrip. You've been pampered by Qingcheng elders and your master, never losing once, right?"
In the original story, his defeat came mid-novel, so his arrogance made sense.
It might hurt now, but it'll be the spark for greater growth.
And he needed to learn to judge people better. With that thought, I prepared for his next attack.
"No! That's not it!"
Missing repeatedly drove Azure Cloud One Sword Hak Dongrip mad. He wasn't the type to crack like this, but the shock must've been immense.
He even pulled out an advanced late-stage form from Clear Wind Ancient Moon Sword. By my eye, this was his strongest, ultimate move.
Time to get serious.
Truth be told, I'd hoped for a big swing—stronger attacks expose more openings on evasion. Especially now, with repeated failures chasing him, his body was tense all over.
Stagger!
Executing Counter Step evaded his strike effortlessly, and Hak Dongrip's knee buckled, staggering him. He'd fallen right into my trap.
Now!
I could've let him crumble mentally, but no—this was a spar. Time for one strike.
No need to activate Attribute Five Elements Fist. To fell this unripe, arrogant flower, one finger sufficed. No wind summoned, no qi poured in—just a jab at his exposed acupoint.
Press!
I hit a painful vital point. No matter how skilled Azure Cloud One Sword was, he couldn't withstand it.
"Gaaahhh!"
It hurt like hell, so to outsiders, he looked like he was overreacting—shrieking like a child, clutching his neck as he stumbled back gasping.
I chuckled involuntarily. Rather than chase for the kill, I gave him space to realize it himself.
"Young hero Hak Dongrip, the jianghu is vast, full of experts beyond your imagination."
I had to share that old adage about watching out for women and children in the martial world. Appearances deceive—especially to juniors, masters might seem shabby. Always stay humble and righteous.
Sure, I'm just one flawed guy, but better than him.
"Ugh."
His earlier swagger gone, he trembled, staring up at me.
Yes, life is combat.
"Now do all the stories and fame about me make sense?"
If not after this, we could go another round.