Chapter 110
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 110
Chapter Title: Air-Stepping Calls for Life's Carousel as BGM
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“What? Mount Hua’s Radiant Sword dropped his sword?”
“The grand senior got eliminated in the preliminaries?”
The murmurs from below the sparring platform faintly reached my ears.
“Awesome!”
The cheers from the guys in my group blended into the noise, sounding distant.
“Argh, boundless Buddha!”
I sprinted madly toward the sword flying through the air in a parabola. Even though I’d lost my grip, as long as it didn’t hit the ground, I wasn’t out yet.
“No way I’m letting you grab it that easily!”
A burly branch member of the Hebei Peng Clan blocked my path.
But don’t they say desperate situations bring out unimaginable strength? Thinking of the humiliation of preliminary elimination and the lifetime of ridicule from my sect elders made me see red.
No matter what, I had to grab it before it fell.
I channeled my internal energy and unleashed the Greatest Principle Obscuring Palm at the brute’s solar plexus.
“I’m not going down without a fight either!”
The muscle-bound oaf blocked with his thick arms, but he must’ve taken internal damage because he coughed and doubled over. Me, who’d only swung a sword my whole life, a hidden palm technique genius?
No, not the time for that.
I used his bent back as a springboard, leaped up, and hurled myself toward the sword before it flew off the platform.
I snatched the slowly plummeting blade, then executed a makeshift air-stepping lightness skill. I kicked off the air to twist my body around and immediately thrust the sword downward.
I wasn’t yet at the level to freely perform true air-stepping, the pinnacle of lightness skills, so this was my best shot.
The guy who’d just barely blocked my sword—purely because he happened to be underneath me—couldn’t withstand the heavy downward force of my weight and power. He toppled backward.
The moment I landed safely, I kicked the rolling bastard hard off the platform. Nice, that made two eliminations.
“These preliminaries are tougher than expected, huh?”
I pointed my sword tip at the brute and flashed a relaxed smile. Now that I had my sword back, my composure returned.
The burly guy, who’d just eliminated the last opponent, rubbed his arm—palm print stark on it—and grumbled reluctantly.
“Where’d that frantic guy from earlier go…?”
“Hey, how relaxed can you be when your sword’s flying away? But being too relaxed is no fun either.”
I shrugged and assumed the Lightning Sword stance.
A head-on clash would favor his strength, so I’d go for speed. Mount Hua’s specialty, the swift sword!
I thrust like lightning, and the brute hastily pulled back his saber meant to smash down on me for defense.
My follow-ups, changing directions at wind-whistling speed, left him scrambling just to block—no chance to counter.
The moment he showed an opening, the impact to his wrist made him drop his saber.
He desperately reached for it, unwilling to end like this, so I aimed a sword strike at his vital point.
It’d hurt if it landed fully, but no killing intent—just something he could block or dodge.
In the end, the brute gave up on the saber and dodged my attack. Clang! The saber crashed to the platform.
Peep—! The signal ending the match rang out.
Despite the crisis of losing my sword, I secured advancement to the finals and descended the platform proudly.
Who knew the preliminaries would have such nasty surprises? My hangover dulled my condition below normal, which didn’t help. If I hadn’t grabbed my sword, I’d be in the same boat as Biyeon, probably.
“Man, I was scared shitless when you dropped your sword, Grand Senior.”
“Seriously. Four guys rushing you at once in that situation? I figured they’d go for the brute first, then you.”
“Well, they must’ve judged me the bigger threat.”
My juniors chattered about it being the most nail-biting preliminary ever. I let their teasing—or was it praise?—go in one ear and out the other while scanning the crowd.
Peng Clan branch member, huh? I spotted Peng Haran chatting with the brute. As I approached, their conversation sharpened.
“No face to show, haha… You even told me Mount Hua’s Radiant Sword’s weakness, Haran.”
I glanced between the sheepish head-scratching brute and Peng Haran, then muttered softly.
“Weakness…?”
“Oh, I heard his left-side guard is weak.”
I recalled Peng Haran intently watching me during my matches with Namgung Seheon, supposedly to judge. Seheon must’ve noticed too, since he hadn’t used the Sovereign Sword Form after that.
Biyeong’s words echoed anew. Observant enough to cozy up to Peng Haran? Impressive.
“Is it okay to go around spilling other people’s weaknesses like that?”
I shot Peng Haran a grumpy look and grumbled. He slightly lifted the sheer veil over his face, revealing it, and grinned.
“Thanks to that, the preliminaries got more exciting, right?”
“Yeah… Glad you had fun, at least…”
I’d toured the brink of hell, but if my friend enjoyed it…
“Still, your left guard’s improved from before. It used to be wide open.”
“Ah, I’d heard that before. Should’ve skipped closed-door training till the Dragon-Tiger Assembly and just sparred nonstop.”
I’d paid more attention after Biyeong mentioned it during the Dragon-Tiger Assembly team battles, but it was a lifelong habit since picking up the sword—no way it’d fix overnight.
“But your movements looked sluggish compared to usual. You okay?”
Peng Haran strode up, concern in his eyes, and pressed a hand to my forehead.
Not feverish… He muttered, scanning me head to toe, and I confessed to those red eyes.
“Well, hangover, haha…”
I chuckled awkwardly, and he looked at me with the same gaze he gave Namgung Seheon. Ouch, heart stabbed.
Oh yeah, I wonder if that Namgung Seheon punk is eating well on the run. His face stands out—hope it doesn’t cause issues. Hell, is he even alive?
“Good match, brother. Hope you do well in the finals too. To think that was you sluggish, haha.”
An outstretched hand snapped my wandering thoughts. I nodded and clasped it; the brute grinned and added,
“Go easy on the booze the night before finals.”
“Learned my lesson plenty this round.”
I shot back with a laugh. We finished our greetings, and the eliminated Peng branch guy walked off. That’s when I noticed something odd. The guy always glued to Peng Haran’s side was missing.
“Your friend? Not in the Dragon-Phoenix Meet?”
Did the protagonist skip the Dragon-Phoenix Meet…? Digging through memories, no nickname at age twenty restart, so probably not the winner.
“Seoryun? He’s in the thick of preliminaries right now.”
“Then why’d you come watch me instead?”
“’Cause this looked more fun? I’ve seen Seoryun spar to death, and it’s all by-the-book.”
Got it. Craved action flick, not documentary.
I patted the back of Peng Haran, who covered his mouth with his sleeve to laugh.
“Thanks to you, I got your thrilling preliminaries show. You competing in the Dragon-Phoenix Meet too?”
“Wanted to, but some guy glaring daggers from your side killed it.”
I instinctively glanced aside and froze at the fierce eyes glaring down at me.
“Smacking our fragile little junior’s back with that brute strength that blocks Peng blades?”
“I went easy, total feather-light. Gonna bruise.”
Biryeong’s catchphrase slipped out. They say ten years change mountains and rivers, but a decade later, this guy’s babying of his little brother hadn’t budged.
Terminally ill or not, a twenty-year-old ain’t some crumbly sugar doll.
“Big Bro, if you don’t wanna see me not come home till I die, ease up. Skipping the Dragon-Phoenix Meet’s concession enough.”
Peng Haran’s sharp words made his big bro slump those broad shoulders unfit for his bulk.
As big bro approached, Peng Haran snapped,
“Don’t follow, bro. Biyeon’ll get me to the stands.”
“Riding on a girl’s back feels off, little bro?”
“Told you I can walk.”
Peng Haran strode off; his dazed big bro alternated glances. Big bro eyed me to hurry after.
I scratched my head, caught up with brisk steps, and Peng Haran resumed brightly.
“Oh, heard about the Namgung youngest?”
“Yeah, heard. What’s the deal?”
“What deal? The current heir draws steel on his thorn-in-side little brother. The elders itching to shake the clan see Namgung Seheon—not the too-sharp, blade-like current heir—as better head material.”
Figures, elders trouble there too. Namgung Seheon as clan head… Hard to picture.
“Better if he’d been talentless idiot not worth checking. His tragedy’s decent talent, no street smarts, but sharp enough. Quick wits would’ve let him play safe, but Namgung head spoiled him rotten.”
“Didn’t he flaunt zero interest in heir spot?”
Recalling Namgung Seheon’s mantra, I countered; instant denial.
“Nope, Biyeon.”
Peng Haran slung an arm over my shoulder, tilted his head, and whispered in my ear.
“Namgung Seheon should’ve refused when his sister offered to teach the Sovereign Sword Form. Know what he said when Namgung Seeun showed me the first page of the manual?”