Chapter 101
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 101
Chapter Title: Murim Colosseum
-----------------------------------------------------------------
This journey through the martial world gave me another chance to reflect on what a righteous heart truly means, but that didn’t mean my sword would revert to being a “gentle blade that protects people.”
“Biyeon, your sword is too sharp. Try toning down the killing intent a bit more.”
“His sword’s always been like that, senior brother.”
“It wasn’t this bad before, which is why I’m saying it.”
…Could it be because of the Single Heaven Secret Sword?
The Single Heaven Secret Sword I was currently practicing through the Life and Death Boundary had its own thick killing intent, which inevitably influenced my sword itself.
The Single Heaven Secret Sword was characterized by fifteen forms unleashing in a relentless storm, from the first form, Wind Flower Wild Expanse, to the final one, Infinite Severing Heaven.
Each motion carried immense power, and with so many variations and complex sword paths, even after over a year of practice, I was still struggling with just the ninth form.
Whenever I hit a wall I couldn’t overcome through self-study, I’d secretly seek guidance from Elder Muyeong.
Even though the period of real-combat sparring with the plum blossom division lasted only a month, it took a full year to strip away the killing aura clinging to my sword and the ingrained aggressiveness in my body.
“Ughhh, if it weren’t for that damn senior brother, I wouldn’t be struggling like this….”
Today, after being thoroughly drilled by his master, Bihwan collapsed spread-eagled on the training ground the moment he arrived and muttered in complaint. I tapped his head lightly with the tip of my scabbard.
“Aren’t you twenty now? Isn’t it time to stop blaming others? Take responsibility for your own choices.”
“Do the Black Dao thugs ask for opinions before charging? That’s not something the guy who recklessly rushed in should say.”
“And who was it that suddenly felt the need afterward and led the juniors into real-combat sparring?”
At a loss for words, Bihwan turned away, lying on his side. He clicked his tongue as he muttered.
“Now that I think about it, we were the crazy ones. If that habit came out during the Dragon-Tiger Assembly sparring….”
Mount Hua would probably erupt in outrage over what the hell they were teaching, and we’d get severely scolded for tarnishing the master’s reputation.
“Come to think of it, the Dragon-Tiger Assembly isn’t far off.”
“Isn’t it… too frequent…?”
Bigak muttered with a hollowed-out face. As an extreme introvert, he dreaded these exchanges. Squeezing out words to mingle with unfamiliar people was pure torment for him, or so he claimed.
It was originally held every four years, but last time it was postponed by a year, making the gap just three years this time.
On top of that, since we’d seen so much of the Wudang disciples at last year’s Murim Alliance junior gathering, I could somewhat agree with Bigak’s complaint that the exchanges were too frequent.
“Are they gonna suggest match-fixing again this time? Not just us, but how did they not get caught over there either?”
“Should we get revenge this time?”
“We cleared up the misunderstanding last time, so why bother? And normally, wouldn’t we refuse this time out of pride, even if they suggest it?”
“But last time we skipped the Training Hell rerun, so our bodies had it easy….”
“If you’re gonna live like that, rip off the plum blossom from your chest.”
At my growl, Bidam shrank back. The guy who’d been so bold during puberty turned ghostly timid again once it ended.
“Damn it, by next year half of us will be over twenty.”
I clicked my tongue, looking down at my still immature body compared to the twenty-year-old junior sisters who’d finished growing. Biryung would be twenty next year, but I’d still be barely seventeen.
Ah, I want to grow up fast.
* * *
Another year passed, and the day of the Dragon-Tiger Assembly arrived.
In front of the Sword Sea Terrace at Wudang Mountain’s Purple Empyrean Palace.
“Someday, I really want to cross the Sword Sea Terrace with a sword in hand.”
Biwon muttered as he set down his luggage near the sword depository, earning a scornful glare from Biryung.
“If you’re gonna do it, get expelled first. Why drag the two sects into a rift over your senior brother’s crazy ideas?”
“Ah, who’d do it openly? Obviously, it has to be sneaky so no one finds out. Isn’t that what makes it thrilling?”
“Why say that right in front of senior brother? Can’t you see his eyes sparkling? Don’t you see that tempted look?”
“Ahem, hem.”
The arrow turned toward me, so I turned my head and cleared my throat. As Biwon said, sneaking a sword across the Sword Sea Terrace did stir the spirit of challenge.
After receiving a warm welcome at the sect’s entrance and unpacking at the lodgings, we mingled familiarly with the Wudang white porcelain division disciples.
The second-generation disciples, having known each other longer, didn’t gather as a group like us but stuck to their close friends.
“Man, you’ve grown even taller since last time? Kids in growth spurts shoot up like weeds. You’re even bigger than your junior sisters now?”
The twenty-two-year-old Wudang senior brother marveled at my seventeen-year-old height, and I shook my head in annoyance.
“No, why do you always talk like some long-lost relative elder whenever you see my face?”
“Understand. The first time I saw you, you were five. A kid that small has grown this much—how can I not feel emotional every time?”
Wow, time really flies. It’s been twelve years since my first meeting with these guys.
Baek Geon, standing next to the Wudang senior brother, waved lightly. He looked a bit unfamiliar, having shot up taller and with sharper facial lines than two years ago.
“By the way, how’re you planning the sparring brackets this time? You’re not suggesting something like last time again, right?”
“That’s… sorry, kids.”
My heart sank at his awkward smile and averted gaze. Quick-witted Bihwan was already dumbfounded, while Biryung smirked as if she’d expected it.
“It just kinda got found out, haha.”
Is that something you laugh about now? If the Wudang sect elders tell Mount Hua, we’re dead meat—we’d have to chant it in unison.
Lord of the Primordial Beginning, why such trials for me…!
“What did your sect elders say…?”
“They said do whatever. Whether you fix matches again or whatever, handle it yourselves.”
That means we’re done if we do it again.
“Argh, what do we do about these sparring matches? We have to win no matter what!”
“It’s obviously their fault, so they should concede!”
“But what if they say we fixed it again? What if the Wudang higher-ups really snitch to our sect elders?”
“Hey, lower your voice! Wanna get us caught too?”
Ever since that meeting, we’d been checking on the Mount Hua elders every half an hour, paranoid about it reaching their ears.
“Wait, are you pulling strings? It’s not right to pit these two against each other, humanely speaking.”
“Hey, have some conscience! I watched that kid spar last time!”
“No, are you scared? If not, why keep insisting on changing opponents?”
Both sides snarled and bit at each other like it was a past life compared to the haha-ho-ho days of rigging brackets together. We finally completed a fair bracket that favored neither side and only relaxed on the day of the sparring.
The sparring was the final event, so if it hadn’t reached the Mount Hua elders’ ears by then, our chances of returning to Mount Hua unscathed with the secret intact were high.
But who’d have thought we’d get hit in the back of the head like this.
“We will change the third-generation disciples’ sparring format to a sect-agnostic team battle.”
On the day of the sparring, murmurs erupted at the Wudang Sect Leader’s sudden declaration.
As it was an unagreed matter, a Wudang elder approached our protesting Sect Leader and elders, whispering something.
Soon, chilling gazes poured toward us. Especially the ones on me—I swallowed dryly, eyes darting.
‘We’re dead now….’
No, but I clearly opposed it—why’s everyone looking at me like that? The more I think, the more wronged I feel.
As I furrowed my brows into an inverted V, expressing maximum grievance, the Wudang Sect Leader spoke again.
“However.”
All eyes refocused on him. With the pressure gone, I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand.
“The final victor shall receive a Supreme Purity Pill.”
The hall buzzed at the Wudang Sect Leader’s bold offer. I instinctively locked eyes with Biran beside me, widening mine.
“S-Su, Supreme Purity Pill?”
Alongside Shaolin’s Great Return Pill and Mount Hua’s Purple Empyrean Pill, it was Wudang’s representative spirit medicine. Recalling how the Purple Empyrean Pill I’d taken before boosted my internal energy by half a cycle, this one couldn’t be worse.
“Shouldn’t Mount Hua put up something too? Like a Purple Empyrean Pill, or my thousand-year cold iron sword, Snowy Plum Blade….”
“Why bet my sword?”
I glared daggers, gripping the hilt of my precious Snowy Plum Blade, which had been locked away in the hall and was finally getting fresh air.
At this point, there was only one way to quell the elders’ wrath.
Become the final victor and bring the Supreme Purity Pill to Mount Hua.
Crack. I lightly cracked my knuckles and scanned the Wudang and Mount Hua third-generation disciples. Everyone’s eyes burned with desire for the Supreme Purity Pill.
Thanks in advance for the pill. Wow, at seventeen, my internal energy will leap over one full cycle.
“With the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly coming soon, it wouldn’t be bad for the young ones to experience a team battle in advance, right?”
Our Sect Leader nodded in feigned contemplation, giving approval. At the glance toward me, I grinned confidently and nodded back.
This unworthy disciple will surely claim the Supreme Purity Pill and etch Mount Hua’s name atop the world’s foremost sword sect, surpassing Wudang.
But with sixty people in a tournament or league, it’d take forever. Would they use our bracket, or remake it?
No matter how it’s set, I had full confidence I’d win it all and stand at the top, grinning smugly—until a thunderbolt struck.
“The sixty third-generation disciples from both sects will engage in a mass melee all at once.”
…What the hell?
“To minimize injury risk, all will use wooden swords. Inflicting lethal wounds is strictly forbidden. Elimination occurs when a sword falls from the hand or one can no longer respond.”
I know this. This is that, isn’t it?
From now on, kill each other.
No wonder they told us to gather at the wide training ground instead of the sparring platform.
A Murim Colosseum was about to unfold before my eyes. I could clearly feel the Wudang Sect Leader’s resolve not to hand over the Supreme Purity Pill easily.