Successor: Jongchil 9
There was a Yongho Contest match tomorrow. To keep my promise with Maro, I'd probably have to end it in one go.
'Tomorrow's opponent is Ubija from the Jongnam Sect, right?'
He was a side character mentioned a few times in the original story. As a side character, his martial prowess wasn't low, but he was close to an extra, so nothing for me to worry about. If I had to fret over a guy like that, I wouldn't have made it this far.
'Jongnam Sect. A sect that's subtly sidelined in wuxia tales, even as one of the Nine Great Sects.'
The Extreme Sword Heavenly Immortal was the same. Clearly a prestigious sect with fame and skill acknowledged wherever they went, yet they always felt overshadowed by Wudang or Huashan.
When it came to sword sects, Wudang and Huashan were just too famous. It was a perfect tale of overlapping gimmicks vying for the second-place spot. Life was like that.
Take down Ubija in under an hour. That was my personal goal. Crushing a Jongnam disciple overwhelmingly would boost my reputation too. Higher fame meant greater influence, and easier conquests of beauties.
Two things to handle at once: hunting down that fortuitous encounter with Maro, and winning the Yongho Contest.
Neither was hard. Especially not for me, with the original story's knowledge. Still, better safe than sorry—time to double-check my plans.
I headed back to the inn.
"You're back."
A woman with a relaxed voice greeted me with a smile. The rakshasa mask tilted jauntily on her head gave her away.
The overlord of the unorthodox paths.
Rakshasa Witch Dan Yu-ha.
Yu-ha's eyes gleamed with lewd hunger.
"You've been so busy lately. But if you neglect this lady... I won't forgive you."
It was a powerless threat. More like an invitation. I grinned ear to ear and approached her.
Dan Yu-ha's sweet breath tickled my nose. Her cascading black hair felt like silk, drawing my hand without thinking.
Did others know?
That this woman, who hid herself behind the infamous title of Rakshasa Witch, was so utterly depraved in bed.
Yu-ha drew closer. Her dark eyes held me captive. A witch's gaze had that mysterious allure that drowned the soul. I saw myself reflected in them, staring back with wonder.
"Who's your opponent tomorrow?"
"Ubija of the Jongnam Sect."
"Jongnam, huh. Makes me think of the Red and Blue Great War."
The grandest festival of the Central Plains martial world, where the younger generation of the orthodox and unorthodox paths clashed.
True to her fame, Dan Yu-ha had competed in the Red and Blue Great War. Jongnam and Ami had fallen to her demonic hand.
Looking at those delicate jade hands now, it was hard to believe. Then again, in the martial world, the dainty ones were often the most dangerous.
The scent of Yu-ha's honey flowing from her slit teased my nose. No reason to hold back, no desire to. Like a frisky cub, I pounced on her.
"Ahng~!"
"Hngh~! Like a beast in heat. I can't just leave you like this."
Her insides were soft and gripped me tight.
*-*-*
A thin crescent moon cast its pale light over the sky. Ubija, the Jongnam Sect's promising young talent, stepped out of his inn for some night air. Though night had fallen, Hanam city's streets blazed like daylight. It was always like this during the Yongho Contest.
"Haha! What did I tell you!? This time the Zhuge family is different!"
"Hey! You won the most out of all of us, so treat us big!"
"Pour it! Drink up! A true Hegang playboy drinks from jars, not cups!"
The raucous cheers pushed back the night air. The fresh scents lightened his heart.
Ubija strolled lightly, aimless. Just a walk to calm his mind. Not the best spot for peace amid the noisy crowds, but it'd do.
'I'll make at least the quarterfinals this tournament.'
That was Ubija's goal. It might seem modest for a Jongnam prodigy—one of the Nine Great Sects and a famed sword school—but considering the Yongho Contest's prestige, even the quarterfinals were no small feat. Jongnam's history had few juniors who'd reached that far.
As one of the Nine Great Sects, they enjoyed top-tier fame in the orthodox world, but Jongnam was subtly underrated. Wudang and Huashan, fellow sword sects in the Nine, dominated too firmly.
—Jongnam? Yeah, they're decent... but with Wudang and Huashan around, why bet on Jongnam?
—Plenty of peak experts, but beyond that? Only the sect leader. Feels like the runt of the Nine Great Sects.
—They wield swords, sure, but even among the Nine, they lag behind Wudang and Huashan. Across the whole martial world, the Namgung and Moyong great families hold strong.
The common view of Jongnam. Hard to refute.
The Yongho Contest was the perfect chance to flip it. The elders and sect leader had sky-high hopes for Ubija.
"Young master Hyeok."
On his walk, he bumped into a familiar face. Namgung Hyeok, the Namgung family's second young master.
Arms tucked in his sleeves, he shuffled along unsteadily. Flushed cheeks suggested a drink or two. As far as Ubija knew, Namgung Hyeok had a match tomorrow too.
'First time I met him, I thought, where'd this bookworm come from... Now they call him the Peach Color Young Master behind his back.'
His debauched life left even Ubija stunned. Spotting Ubija, the staggering Namgung Hyeok looked up.
"Jongnam's Hundred Hands One Mark."
"Been to the brothel?"
"Ahh. Got a match tomorrow, you know. They say bedding a woman the night before brings luck."
"Never heard that superstition..."
Probably nonsense from that northern wastrel Pang Jin-gun. Everyone knew Namgung Hyeok had gone wild hanging with him.
Despite the playboy gossip, his skills were real. He'd proven it in the Yongho Contest.
His Emperor Swordsmanship far exceeded expectations. Among gamblers, Namgung Hyeok reaching quarterfinals or better was the safe bet.
"You heading to a brothel too?"
"No. A quiet walk under the moon beats their booze and girls."
"A true Jianghu man embraces at least a woman or two."
Ubija never imagined Namgung Hyeok saying that. The change hit home. Mountains took ten years to shift, but people could transform in a fortnight.
"Your next foe is the Beggar Clan's third disciple, Song Mu, I hear. His Striking Dog Staff Method runs deep."
"Telling me to watch out? Thanks for the advice."
"Didn't mean it as a slight... Sorry if it offended."
Ubija was Jongnam's top disciple; Namgung Hyeok, the Namgung second son. Strictly by rank, Ubija edged out, but Namgung's prestige dwarfed that.
"Who's yours next?"
"Some Jongchil guy. No affiliation. Probably a successor from one of those one-man legacy schools common in these contests. Haven't seen him fight, but making it this far means he's got solid foundations."
Sect affiliation gave a rough skill gauge. Sure, hidden masters littered the Jianghu like sand, so judging solely by sect wasn't wise—but as Jongnam's top disciple, Ubija didn't fear some unaffiliated wanderer.
"Jongchil, huh..."
"Know him?"
Namgung Hyeok's knowing tone startled Ubija into blinking. If the Namgung second son knew him, he wasn't just any drifter.
"Met him by chance. Not sure of his skill. But surviving this long means he can protect himself."
Namgung Hyeok's instincts screamed otherwise—that Jongchil held more power. But no need to warn Ubija.
"Good luck tomorrow."
"You too, young master Hyeok... Wait, no—as a fellow Nine Great Sects junior, I should wish Song Mu luck. Sorry about that."
"Natural for you. Doesn't matter. I'll win anyway."
Namgung Hyeok waved it off casually. Arrogant words.
Yet Ubija couldn't retort. The man wielded arrogance like his own clothes.
'A true Emperor Swordsmanship user... Weird way to put it, but maybe luxury and indulgence suit him now.'
*-*-*
Dawn broke. My match day.
'Meet Maro at the Golden Pavilion after. Gotta wrap this quick.'
My opponent: Ubija of Jongnam Sect.
Jongnam Sect.
Mentioned in the original as one of the Nine Great Sects. But power-wise, ambiguous as hell. Above extras, sure, but far from main side characters.
The sect leader tier got decent spotlight, but even they weren't central.
'Still, Nine Great Sects prestige is real. Beating Ubija boosts my fame more.'
I'd already built plenty. Just surviving had etched my name in minds. Gamblers especially.
"Jongchil! We believe in you! Crush that cocky punk riding his sect's glory!"
"You've come this far—victory or nothing!"
"All my money's on you! Lose and I'm done for!"
The gamblers' fervent cheers rang out. Not just them—common folk rooted for me too.
"If we work hard, we can be like him, right?"
"Yeah! Who needs innate talent or profound arts!? Jongchil's our hope!"
Underdog appeal worked everywhere humans lived. Folks craved the drama of the weak toppling the mighty against all odds. Catharsis.
'They don't know I'm the strong one, and Ubija's the underdog.'
I'd paced my power so far. Crushed weaklings outright, traded a few blows with solid ones. Kept my image from shining too bright.
'Blitzing nobodies draws no eyes. Smashing Nine Great Sects or Five Great Families? That's efficient hype.'
Today's foe was Nine Great Sects stock.
"Seems the fighters are ready. Calling names one by one!"
The announcer read the hyped crowd and launched into rapid-fire rap.
"Rivals to Wudang and Huashan in swordsmanship! Birthplace of all heavy swords in the Central Plains! Lords of Shaanxi, masters of the Thirty-Six Heavenly Swords! Jongnam's Hundred Hands One Mark—young hero Ubija! Give him a big round of applause!"
"""Woooaaahhh!"""
"Ubija! Ubija! Ubija!"
The heat for him was intense. A Jongnam crew cheered too, likely.
"Senior brother! Blow away that no-name riffraff in one shot!"
"Ubija! Your goal's Wudang and Huashan! Charge for the top, eyes straight ahead!"
Watching them twisted my gut. Forcing their senior brother to explode in the VIP seats.
"Who faces young hero Ubija!? Ahh! No one predicted it at the Yongho Contest's start. But his skill stunned the Jianghu elites. The unaffiliated fist master now baring his fangs—Jongchil!"
"Jongchil! Go get 'em!"
"Don't buckle under big sect pressure!"
The announcer dubbed me Unaffiliated (無籍). Not Invincible (無敵)—Unaffiliated. No sect to claim. Fitting for me.
'But soon they'll learn I'm Invincible.'
I eyed Ubija. Tense face.
'Not underestimating me. Surprising. Thought sect pride would make him cocky.'
Tipped off by someone?
Or ironclad resolve banishing complacency?
'Doesn't matter. Alert or not, the outcome's fixed.'
Clenched my fist. The announcer-ref checked us.
"Match begin!"
No time to waste. At the call, I launched forward boldly.
Paat!
"Jongchil takes the initiative! Unexpected aggression!"
The announcer yapped. I ignored him and swung.