Chapter 47
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: This is Our Eye Level!
-----------------------------------------------------------------
After being carried back and sleeping soundly through the night, I rose from the bed with a strangely light body, and Biryeong was looking at me with an odd glint in her eyes.
“Why are you staring like that?”
Biryeong shook her head at my question.
“No reason. I just realized anew that the world has people with some really unique tastes.”
“What’s wrong with thinking swords are cute?”
“You’re not fooling anyone, so relax.”
She shoved me toward the bathroom with a disinterested retort as I preemptively defended myself.
As I stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying my wet hair, there was a knock at the door.
With my permission to enter, the door opened cautiously, and the Wudang Sect’s third-generation disciples filed in.
“Mind if we come in for a bit? We need to draw up the sparring brackets.”
I nodded as they informed me that the sparring schedule had been moved up from the original plan. It was supposed to be the highlight of the Dragon-Tiger Assembly, held at the very end.
“Since this is our first spar among ourselves, we don’t really know each other’s skills properly. So we’re thinking of pairing people up by similar ages for this round. What do you think?”
Excluding me and the Wudang senior brother, it was plenty feasible to match everyone else by age.
“But Mount Hua doesn’t have anyone the same age as Senior Brother Baekhyeon.”
“What’s the difference? Just have the senior brothers face off.”
“You’re really going to pair him with this side?”
The Wudang senior brother followed the finger Bihwan pointed with his gaze, stammering as he looked at me at the end of it.
“…This kid, this kid’s the senior brother?”
His eyes trembled as he looked down at me, then he cried out like a scream.
“Not the youngest? He’s the youngest, right!”
“Only by age. In terms of seniority, he’s number one.”
I waved cheerfully at him, and his eyes shook even more violently. The other Wudang disciples were sneaking glances at me with shocked faces too.
“I’m fine with the senior brothers facing off. I’ve got confidence.”
At my bold declaration, the Wudang senior brother clutched his forehead and groaned.
“I’m not fine with it, so have some understanding. Even if you’re the senior disciple, from my position, sparring a nine-year-old…”
If he went all out and won, he’d be the fourteen-year-old who gritted his teeth to beat a nine-year-old kid. If he went all out and lost, he’d be the fourteen-year-old who got beaten by a nine-year-old kid.
Either way, dishonor was guaranteed.
I wanted to face the strongest guy myself, but sometimes flexibility was necessary.
“Fine, I’ll yield this once. So who’s my opponent then?”
“Me.”
The fox-eyed one raised her hand triumphantly, grinning slyly.
“What, you?”
My sour expression made her scowl immediately.
“You’re not still smug about beating me once four years ago, are you, kid?”
“What are you saying? You were less beaten up back then than you are now. I’m thrilled I can legally thrash you this time.”
Sarcasm deserved sarcasm in return.
“At least show some basic manners? Calling a fellow senior disciple from another sect ‘kid’—what sect teaches that etiquette? Or is Mount Hua an easy target?”
Biryeong, who had been listening quietly from the side, frowned and pointed it out coolly. I nodded and chimed in.
“Yeah, what she said?”
“Baekyun.”
“Ah, yes. Sorry.”
At the Wudang senior brother’s warning call, the fox eyes—Baekyun—muttered an apology half-heartedly. She didn’t look sorry at all.
Worried she might stir up more trouble with her mouth, the Wudang senior brother stuck her right by his side.
With my sparring opponent already set as that one, and the instigator out of the way, I lounged comfortably on the long chair, watching the others decide matchups.
“You’re really going to spar with Senior Brother Baekyun?”
I flicked my gaze up at the voice from above.
Meeting the boy’s straight gaze, I felt like I’d seen those eyes somewhere before.
“I promised, didn’t I?”
His slightly drooping eyes drooped even more, forming a pitiful expression.
“What promise?”
“You said you’d spar with me.”
Me…? When…? Did she dream it?
As I looked at her blankly, the boy gazed down at me with eyes rippling with hurt.
“Senior Brother, come on!”
At the call, the boy turned away with a reluctant gesture.
Biryeong watched the boy’s retreating back with the same look she’d given me that morning, so I grumbled at her pointlessly.
“She didn’t dream that, did she?”
“You don’t even suspect your own poor memory, that confidence of yours is just…”
“What?”
“Nothing. Just envious of your senior disciple confidence.”
That didn’t sound like nothing.
* * *
The day of the sparring finally arrived.
The opening match was between me and the fox eyes—no, Baekyun.
Four years ago, I’d been sitting next to Jinyul watching; who knew I’d be on the stage four years later. One thing was clear, at least.
If I lost the first match, the atmosphere would plummet beyond recovery. Not that I’d lose, of course.
Standing on the sparring platform facing Baekyun, I gave a slight bow.
I’d aimed for the bare minimum nod, but the Mount Hua elders were watching with piercing eyes, making it impossible.
What was with these sparring etiquettes that I had to bow my head even to this punk?
After the greetings, I raised my head with a face like I’d chewed a bug, and Baekyun placed her hand on her sword hilt, sneering.
“Three Powers Sword Technique is more than enough for a brat like you. Try blocking it properly.”
I snorted at the one invoking Wudang’s basic swordsmanship.
“Why not yield three moves entirely? Scared you can’t?”
“Scared? You’re the one afraid to refuse three moves, thinking you’ll lose?”
“As if. For a punk like you, Six Harmonies Sword is plenty on my end.”
Baekyun scoffed back as I referenced Mount Hua’s basic swordsmanship in return.
“Don’t cry in frustration after losing, kid?”
“Stuck honing old sword arts, your skill’s obvious without seeing. Didn’t I tell you to memorize one more form verse in the time you wasted on that?”
I shot back while digging my ear with my pinky, then suddenly reality hit me.
Was this the trash talk black faction thugs spouted before fights, or dialogue between righteous sects ahead of an exchange spar?
“And don’t go bawling yourself. Get down already.”
But win or lose, I couldn’t back down from the provocation. I added one more line with a crooked smile.
Piiik-!
The signal to start rang out, and I drew my sword from its sheath, kicking off the sparring ground floor with all my might.
I had to prove for myself that my defeat wasn’t due to any lack of talent or skill.
That it was unavoidable because I’d met an equal genius—
‘Time to prove it!’
With the resolve to end it within ten exchanges, I charged with my full weight and power.
Chaeng-! The clash of swords rang out louder than a mere collision, more like excessive friction.
Baekyun’s leisurely expression twisted more and more as our standoff dragged on. Our locked swords trembled.
“What is this…?”
“Don’t call it ‘this’ when talking to a person. Bad habit.”
I’d noticed it since her know-it-all days!
I burst out laughing at Baekyun’s quick swing to break the deadlock.
Right, as a powerhouse rivaling Mount Hua, the supreme sword sect under heaven, getting pushed too easily would be no fun.
Six Harmonies. Heaven, earth, and the four directions. The foundation of all Mount Hua sword arts. Thrust, slash, block.
Her Three Powers Sword was similar in nature.
These simple basics reborn as powerful attacks in a swordsman’s hands. Block, attack, block again, attack again.
“Back then or now, your only strength is brute force…!”
“Thanks for the compliment.”
“Tch, not a compliment?”
Oh? Got breath to talk? Seeing Baekyun grunting and swinging, I upped my speed.
The heavy clashes of steel and grinding scrapes rang out in succession, grating noisily on the ears.
Damn, this might go over ten exchanges. Baekyun, pushed back by my full-power strike, quickly reset her stance, gritted her teeth, and began tracing sword forms.
Horizontal slash, vertical slash, thrust—these three forms made up the Three Powers Sword Technique, but the fluid swordplay Baekyun was unleashing now was a far cry from it.
“Huh? Where’d the guy who said she’d only use Three Powers go?”
“Shut up!”
Baekyun shouted hysterically, and before she could fully form her technique, I stabbed into her opening to disrupt her rhythm.
Mount Hua swords were about speed. Perfect for breaking Wudang’s flowing sword before it could flow.
As her interrupted sword lost direction, I didn’t miss the chance and slammed it away with full force. I poured everything into that blow.
Kwang! The clash of metal echoed especially loudly across the platform.
Her sword flew from Baekyun’s hand, and her body couldn’t withstand the force, sliding backward.
“Keok!”
Baekyun slammed back-first into the sparring ground railing and collapsed in a heap. The referee bellowed the result.
“Winner: Mount Hua’s Biyeon!”
Cheers and applause erupted from the Mount Hua side. I sheathed my sword, basking in the praise for the victor.
Yes, this was it! The taste of victory the loser could never know!
See, it wasn’t because my skill or talent was lacking.
I shot a glance at Baekyun, who was gasping raggedly up at me, then tilted my chin up and spat shortly.
“Next.”
I’d crush whoever came next just as overwhelmingly.
“What next? Get down quick—we’ve got more spars.”
“Yes, sir…”
I shut my mouth at the referee’s words and stepped off the platform.
For a second there, I thought it was a relay where the winner kept smashing challengers.