A Choice Dictated by the Heart
The sensation of gripping the spear still lingered in his hand.
Maro spread his palm, recalling the moment he had thrust it toward the Blood Army Commander's name. Never before had his body moved so perfectly in tune with his will. Had the battle with the Blood Army Commander dragged on just a bit longer, he was certain he would have gained a new enlightenment.
It was all thanks to that one spear. Who was it that said a master calligrapher doesn't shy away from the finest brush? A craftsman shines brightest when wielding a divine tool he can truly wield.
"Young Master."
Wolbi, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, her voice laced with concern.
She could read Maro's mind. Killing the Twin Black Lust Demon and claiming his weapon had been a rational decision. With that spear in hand, Maro had embodied the future Heavenly Demon himself.
"Curious about my choice?"
"To be honest... I still don't trust him. That's why I thought it was a golden opportunity."
"Yeah. It was a chance to have our cake and eat it too."
Maro replied with a wry smile. Who knew when such an opportunity would come again?
Maro believed there was a fixed total amount of luck in a person's life. The fortune he'd let slip away this time might never return in this lifetime.
"Did you trust him?"
"No. I don't trust the Twin Black Lust Demon either. He demanded money, but what he showed me went beyond acting out of mere greed for gold."
That much was clear. He'd risked his life for Maro. No matter how much gold piled up, you couldn't take it to the afterlife. There had to be more to his motives than money.
"He's a sly one. We don't even know his true identity."
"What he wants is obvious—power or authority."
He was investing in Maro. More precisely, in the future Heavenly Demon Cult that Maro would lead.
"If you don't trust the Twin Black Lust Demon, why make that choice?"
Wolbi's fox mask trembled slightly. Maro smiled helplessly at her question.
"It might sound stupid, but... my heart told me to."
"Your heart?"
"Yeah. Honestly, I planned to stab him. Pretend to return the divine tool, then drive it straight through his chest with all my strength. Maybe it was my imagination, but even the divine tool seemed to crave it."
"Then why...?"
"The moment I moved to attack, an endless unease gripped my heart, holding me back."
He let out a hearty laugh, placing his left hand over his chest as he relived the moment.
It wasn't hard to recall. Just thinking about it made his heart pound like it was about to explode.
Had his heart ever raced like this before? Not even when he'd first met his master.
"My instincts never warned me so frantically. Something inside me was desperately trying to stop me. Not to betray him. That if I did, the price would be far heavier than I could bear."
Wolbi fell silent at Maro's words.
Maro was never one to act on emotion. She, who had served him longer than anyone, knew that better than most.
This was the first time she'd witnessed him overturn a decision purely on feeling. It was astonishing.
"I trust you, Young Master."
"Thanks. Your presence always puts me at ease."
Maro crossed his arms and sighed. Tallying the results, he'd gained nothing.
No martial arts, no elixirs, no inner core, no divine tool—not even a fleeting insight. All had vanished like a desert mirage before him. For now, he'd have to lay low and watch the situation.
Before long, the number of late-stage disciples surviving in the Yongho Contest had dwindled to thirty-two. Five more victories, and one could claim the most glorious seat in the orthodox martial world.
As expected, both Mo Se-young and Yeon Muk made it through.
All who had reached this point were familiar faces. They'd all appeared at least once in the original story.
My next opponent was Namgung Ho, the eldest son of the Namgung family.
Namgung Ho appeared less frequently than Namgung Hyeok in the original, so I don't know much about what kind of guy he is.
Surprisingly, the quietest late-stage disciple in this Yongho Contest was Namgung Hyeok. While most participants made their presence known in the streets, drawing chatter from the crowds, Namgung Ho secluded himself in his lodgings except on match days, guarding his privacy meticulously.
"The next opponent for Jongchil the Hero, the dark horse of this tournament, is Namgung Ho!"
"Namgung Ho is strangely quiet compared to his brother. Has anyone seen Ho's matches?"
"I have! His fighting was so meticulous, like watching a scholar from a private academy. No flashy dominance like his brother, but as befits the Namgung family's prodigy, his skills were top-notch."
"At least he's not infamous for the wrong reasons like his brother?"
"Haha! Jongchil the Hero is invincible! What are you all waiting for? Bet on Jong the Hero! Your money'll multiply, you idiots!"
The night before a match, unwinding with prostitutes at the brothel had become my routine. As usual, I headed there.
"Are you Jongchil?"
Two men in blue martial robes blocked my path. One in his mid-to-late thirties, the other an old man in his fifties.
The younger one looked frivolous and cheeky, with a single scar running across his cheek like a tattoo. In contrast, the elder had thick, heavy brows that gave him a grave, serious air.
I knew who they were immediately. Their robes proclaimed their affiliation.
"From the Namgung family?"
Both men cupped their fists in greeting. The elder spoke first.
"I am Namgung Jigon, elder of the Namgung family."
The younger followed.
"Namgung Cheolsan."
Namgung Jigon was the Namgung family's senior elder. Namgung Cheolsan was the younger brother of the current family head, Namgung Mosan.
The strongest warrior in the current Namgung family is Namgung Cheolsan.
Without the original story's knowledge, I couldn't even guess his martial prowess. No matter how much I focused my senses, Namgung Cheolsan before me felt like an ordinary civilian.
"Jongchil here. What do you want?"
"We have urgent business. It's noisy and crowded here—shall we move somewhere quieter?"
Several possibilities flashed through my mind. I had a rough idea of what they wanted to say.
"Sure."
With Namgung Cheolsan right there, I had no choice. I followed them to a reserved private room in a high-end inn.
The table was already laden with food. They'd planned to drag me here by any means. Their pitch was all too predictable.
"Can I be direct?"
"Yes. I don't like beating around the bush either. Go ahead."
"Forfeit your next match."
It was Namgung Jigon who spoke. He demanded match-fixing without a hint of apology. Was this really the leader of one of the Five Great Families, pillars of the orthodox sects? It showed just how desperate the Namgung family was for the Sahaedan.
"Did I hear that right?"
"Exactly as it sounds. Forfeit the next match. We'll make it worth your while."
"You must really want that Sahaedan."
"Indeed. It's heaven's will for our Namgung family."
Namgung Jigon seemed to have decided on a shameless approach.
"We have plenty of elixirs—Hundred-Year Foxhole Water, Small Return Pills, White Spirit Golden Dragon Water, Nine-Leaf Purple芝 Grass, and more. We'll give them to you, Jongchil."
"No Nine-Leaf Protecting芝 Grass?"
"Pardon?"
"Ahem! Slip of the tongue. Is that all?"
I feigned mild interest. Thinking the bribe had hooked me, Namgung Jigon spoke faster.
"Of course not. We'll add a hundred taels of silver and one of our family's secret martial arts manuals. If you wish, we can even arrange a betrothal to one of our family's daughters."
"One of the family's daughters... you don't mean Namgung Biyeon, do you?"
Namgung Biyeon
The forbidden jewel of the current Namgung family. They'd publicly promised that whoever drew the Emperor Sword sealed in the family vault would marry her. The catch? Namgung Biyeon was reputed to be an utter hag.
More precisely, a stunning beauty disguised as one.
Namgung Biyeon was on my collection list too.
"Not the young lady. As you know, marrying her requires drawing the family head's Emperor Sword... But we have plenty of other daughters."
They plan to marry me off to some random girl and slap a collar on her.
It was an unfair deal no matter how you sliced it. They clearly didn't see it that way.
I poured the sorghum wine until it overflowed the cup. The sharp alcohol burned down my throat, flushing my cheeks hot.
"Whew...! Sorry, but my conscience as an upright martial artist won't allow it. The Yongho Contest should be a fair arena of true competition, don't you think?"
"Th-this is for your benefit too, Jongchil. Honestly, we don't think our Ho will lose."
"So you're saying I should conserve my strength for later matches? Haha. It's been a while since anyone dismissed me so openly to my face."
I tore into the meat dish like a savage.
"Booze and meat are best with women. Shame."
I went all in. After all, the moral high ground was mine.
While Namgung Jigon fidgeted anxiously, Namgung Cheolsan watched me with an amused expression. My rudeness didn't seem to bother him. True to his roguish looks, he was free-spirited.
"It seems our proposal doesn't sit well with you, Jongchil."
"Frankly, no."
"Urgh! This is a generous offer. Tomorrow's you will regret today's choice!"
"No regrets in my life."
Namgung Cheolsan patted Namgung Jigon's shoulder and stood.
"Elder, let's go. Dirty deals like this aren't my style after all."
"Young master!"
Namgung Cheolsan waved dismissively and left the inn. Namgung Jigon glared at me, his face a mix of shock and fury, raising his voice.
"Fine! You'll learn tomorrow just how precious this opportunity and luck were!"
He stormed out too. Despite proposing match-fixing themselves, their behavior was the polar opposite.
Even if I told people... they wouldn't believe it.
I was the rising star of the Yongho Contest. If I spoke of this, it'd be dismissed as slander against the Namgung family. That's why they'd approached so boldly.
As I headed down the hall to enjoy some booze and women moderately, I spotted an entertaining face. Pang Jin-gun, the Pang family's notorious playboy.