Chapter 78
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: My Rival Isn't "The More the Merrier"—It's "A Wee Bit Beneficial"
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Biyeon's pupils, larger than usual, clearly showed that the thrill of the spar hadn't subsided yet.
Thinking I'd pulled off some outrageous upset against my senior, the flustered juniors hurriedly grabbed hold of her. I gave her shoulder a light pat and walked past her toward the arena.
"I'll tell you after the match."
I waved coolly without looking back, and Biyeon clicked her tongue.
"Even the Grand Senior is already hitting 'that time' of life, huh."
"Not yet."
I shot back crookedly and stepped onto the arena, facing Baek Geon, who was already there.
It had been nine years since I made that promise to spar with him. The image of seven-year-old Baek Geon, who had been about my size back then, overlapped with the calm-faced sixteen-year-old standing before me now.
I bet Uiseong and Uihyeon felt like this when they saw how much I'd grown. Time was truly fleeting.
I lightly adjusted my grip on the sword I'd picked out with Uihyeon at the Iron Arm Pavilion, making it comfortable for a quick draw.
It would've boosted my win rate to use the legendary Snowy Plum Blossom Sword. But it was regrettable in every way that I still couldn't wield that famed blade without drawing attention.
At the referee's signal, we bowed to each other and assumed our stances.
"Keep your promise. Don't go easy or try to deceive me."
At my low murmur, the corner of Baek Geon's mouth curved upward.
"Of course."
Tweet—!
With the signal to start, I drew my sword from its sheath and kicked off the ground.
* * *
Underestimating your opponent is the surest path to defeat.
Those were the words his master, Cheonghwi, had emphasized time and again. It was unforgettable advice, especially when he recalled how his seniors had ended up sprawled uglily on the training ground floor after taking him lightly.
Looking down at the girl who was a full head shorter than him, those words suddenly came to mind.
'Don't underestimate, huh?'
How could he possibly underestimate someone who was parrying his sword so fluidly while staring right through him with eyes like a wild beast?
From nine years ago, when he'd effortlessly knocked down Baek Yun, who had tormented him especially viciously. To five years ago, when he'd overwhelmed Baek Yun with nothing but Six Harmonies Sword, mocking the guy's boast in the dojo that he'd make him kneel with just Three Star Sword.
Having witnessed all these events firsthand, Baek Geon couldn't underestimate Biyeon even if he tried.
And it wasn't just that. The calluses embedded in the palm from the hand they'd clasped as children, the scars on the palm he'd seen up close. Anyone would feel the same upon seeing the fully formed swordsman's hand that bore the weight of all the time he'd put in.
Biyeon, who had been clashing swords with Baek Geon at point-blank range in a test of strength, had suddenly opened up some distance between them.
Before Baek Geon could properly reset his stance, Mount Hua's famed swift sword came flying at him.
He barely deflected the sword that shot toward him like a streak of light, only for it to immediately change trajectory and slice fiercely toward his side.
Without hesitation, Baek Geon retreated to evade the blade, then thrust toward Biyeon's midsection. His sword traced a gentle curve through the air, targeting the opening Biyeon had revealed.
He already knew the match was decided and that even if he gave it everything, he couldn't easily win against this opponent.
But at the growing impatience of being pushed toward defeat not by his own will but by external forces, he bit his lip hard.
'...Why?'
Ever since he'd beaten all those seniors who dismissed him as a junior entrance disciple, Baek Geon had never doubted his own strength. It was the result of steady, grueling training—the reward of his efforts.
Yes, he knew his own level of strength well, so he could accept the predetermined defeat without bitterness.
But why did this situation, where Biyeon was cornering him—this process leading to a scheduled defeat, even if not by choice—feel so suffocating?
The moment their eyes met, Baek Geon realized the answer like a bolt of lightning.
'I wanted to show you that I'm no longer the weak boy who just took it all passively.'
I wanted to beat you to prove I no longer needed your protection.
Having finally uncovered the emotion even he hadn't realized, Baek Geon let out a small chuckle. It seemed it was still too early to prove it.
His sword fiercely struck away the blade rushing toward his vital point. To give the first person he'd ever truly liked a genuine victory, not one tainted by deception.
* * *
After a long exchange of blows, one sword flew through the air.
I looked up at the glinting blade in the sunlight, rubbed my tingling hand, and let out the breath I'd been holding. The referee bellowed the result.
"Winner: Mount Hua's Biyeon!"
If I had to rate it, it was a spar as intense as the one against Namgung Seheon.
At first, it was obvious he wasn't going all out, which pissed me off, but in the mid-to-late stages, he seemed to change his mind and came at me with gritted teeth.
'Tsk, my rival for the world's best isn't "The More the Merrier"—it's "A Wee Bit Beneficial."'
I sheathed my sword and extended my hand first.
"You've grown a lot. Seems like just yesterday you were moping about not being confident in spars."
"Uh, did I...?"
"Yeah, you did. Oh, and don't get too down about losing. It's not embarrassing to lose to the future greatest sword of Mount Hua."
At those words, Baek Geon, who had been staring blankly down at me, smiled like a flower blooming wide. He gently clasped my hand and replied in a voice laced with laughter.
"Yeah, I did. I remember now."
With that, we exchanged post-match courtesies, and Biyeon and I stepped down from the arena. Before returning to our respective camps, Baek Geon turned back to me, offered a formal clasped-hands bow, and politely requested.
"May I request another spar sometime, Biyeon Dojang?"
I grinned and readily agreed to his courteous question.
"Of course."
The results of the third-generation disciples' spars ended with me taking the final win, tying Mount Hua at 15 wins, 15 losses, 0 draws, and Wudang the same—for a perfect draw.
The elders still didn't scold us, and judging that we hadn't been caught, we returned to our seats with clear consciences to watch the second-generation disciples' matches.
Fortunately, Uiseong, who'd worried he'd lose again and run away from home this time, overcame his previous defeat to beat Cheonghwi for the first time in five years.
"Well, I can let a single win slide."
"Then I'll have to train harder until that win count rises above one."
"What did you take my words for?"
Watching the two bicker as they came down from the arena, I couldn't help but wonder why they desperately denied being friends despite all that. They'd seen each other's faces more than ten times by now, easily.
The second-generation disciples' spars also ended in a clean 15-15 draw.
"What if the first-generation ones too...?"
"Shh, man. And does that even make sense?"
Once the first-generation disciples finished their spars, the event wrapped up, and the Bija group gathered again in the men's dojo.
When asked why we had to gather when everyone was tired, Biyeon dismissed it as 'something everyone needs to hear.'
"So, what the hell was the reason?"
With her arms crossed, staring at me as she asked, I shrugged and answered.
"You're the only one besides me who could beat him without showing any fluster, even if he pulled some trick. Bihun's too hot-headed, and Bihwan can't control his expressions."
A wave of bewilderment washed over the faces of the other seniors listening to our exchange.
"What the hell does that mean?"
At Bihwan's urgent question, Biyeon replied in the casual tone of 'I ate lunch today.'
"That fox-eyed bastard went at the spar full throttle."
Bihwan's mouth fell open. His face, screaming 'I'm shocked' for all to see, only reinforced that my choice was right.
"Uh-uh, so that means..."
"We'd have lost if we weren't on guard. Hurts the pride, but yeah."
Biyeon's furrowed brow was full of sincerity. It'd been five years since I fought Baek Yun, but it seemed my prediction that he was around Biyeon's level had hit the mark.
"Is that guy even from the Righteous Faction? Pulling such dirty tricks?"
"Our Grand Senior has a temper no better than the Black Path's, and Bihun's Righteous Faction too in his own way—guys like that exist."
The moment Biyeon spat that out, he was immediately grabbed by my hand and dragged to the corner of the dojo. I duly reestablished the proper hierarchy befitting a disciple of a prestigious Righteous Sect. Bihun joined in, sneakily pulling off a bit of insubordination himself.
While Biyeon was relearning the hierarchy and etiquette between seniors and juniors down to his bones, the serious discussion continued.
"So he was trying to cheat after all? We weren't trash for suspecting!"
"But what if it was just that fox-eye's solo act? Then the rest could claim ignorance without lying, and we couldn't say shit."
"We'll confront them when they gather. If they didn't know, hand over just that bastard. If they did, beat 'em so they never look down on us again."
"Wudang leaves in two days. They'll be too busy packing to gather like before. And us storming Jade Clarity Pavilion en masse? Ridiculous."
"True, even five years ago, the two days before departure were chaos. Damn, what do we do? Just let 'em go without a word?"
At the question of just letting them go, Bihun—who'd been caught for insubordination and thwacked a couple times by Biyeon—rubbed his stinging scalp and barked.
"What're you agonizing over? Storm Jade Clarity, drag that bastard out, and give him a proper group beating. Gotta hammer home that cheating gets you fucked."
"That was a brilliant call, pitting him against Biyeon."
Bihwan, rubbing his forehead, pinned down Bihun, who looked ready to charge to Jade Clarity Pavilion any second, and sighed.
"Damn, I give you a solution and that's how you react? So what're you gonna do?"
At Bihun's grumbling, I waved him off and replied.
"Let 'em go this time."
"Really just let 'em?"
"And pay it back exactly at the Dragon-Tiger Assembly in three years. Storming in and yelling just gets us caught."
Everyone nodded, convinced by my Lord Bao-level solution.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. The way of the jianghu? Settling grudges properly is the greater way.
* * *
The final day of the Dragon-Tiger Assembly.
We waved goodbye to Wudang at the sect gates, plastering on smiles.
Baek Geon, catching my eye, winked. I had no idea why Bihun next to me was cursing and writhing at a wink aimed at me.
"Argh, see you in three years."
I nodded at the low mutter. A gentleman avenges himself even after ten years.
If ten isn't too late, then three years is nothing.