Chapter 97: The Dragon and Phoenix Gathering
Chapter 97: The Dragon and Phoenix Gathering
Chapter 97: The Dragon and Phoenix Gathering
Translation: Godtl
The late-stage juniors, faces tense yet filled with anticipation, crossed fists, testing each other's martial arts.
As I watched from the spectator stands, a sudden thought struck me.
Could it be that I, who possess memories from before the regression, am essentially someone who has undergone a reversal of aging?
If so, wouldn’t squeezing in among them and quarreling to take the victory be rather childish?
Of course, the Grand Return Pill is tempting… but frankly, isn’t this behavior rather immature?
Specifically, it’s like how Seo Mun-Hwarin tried to make an impression at the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering to wash away her past.
“Mn? Why are you looking at This One like that?”
“It’s nothing. Just thinking I’ve become a bit pickier lately.”
The ones I usually see are people like Tang Sowol, born with the Poison Spirit Constitution in the Tang Clan, or geniuses like Seol Lihyang, who show overwhelming talent in wielding yin-type internal energy.
Lately, I’ve seen desperate life-and-death duels with martial artists from the Black Heaven Sword Sect, and clashes of aura among supreme Flowering Stage masters like Seo Mun-Hwarin or the Black Lotus Sect’s Master of Dark Blood, Sa Heuk Ryeon.
And now, watching a mere above-average duel among late-stage juniors…
The fighting spirit is admirable, but honestly, it’s a bit of a letdown.
Still, setting aside their skills or the content of their duels, the martial arts they’re displaying are genuinely interesting.
Before my regression, I obsessively collected sword techniques, but most of them were from unorthodox sects, or had been corrupted following the invasion of the Demonic Cult.
Martial arts focused heavily on killing, steeped in killing intent. Effective in real combat, yes, but—
The problem is, martial arts aren’t just about slashing swords.
Of course, to me, martial arts are simply techniques for killing people, and many unorthodox martial artists would agree.
But that’s just my truth—it isn’t some universal principle.
In reality, orthodox martial arts often carry different philosophies and ideologies beyond simply harming opponents. But to ask whether orthodox martial artists are weaker because of that? Absolutely not.
Unorthodox martial artists may attain achievements faster, but when it comes to true mastery, those who transcend are overwhelmingly from the orthodox side.
Swords that weren’t meant to make you strong, yet end up making you stronger than any other.
I still can’t understand that… which is why I find it all the more fascinating.
“Father-in-law.”
“Sowol is up next.”
“That’s not what I was going to ask.”
“Seol girl comes after that.”
“That’s not it either. I already know the order.”
“Then what is it?”
Tang Jincheon turned his head slowly toward me from the dueling arena.
“What do you think makes a martial art strong?”
I thought he’d spout some nonsense, but surprisingly, it was a difficult question.
After thinking for a moment, Tang Jincheon spoke.
“Defeating the enemy is one kind of strength, and protecting oneself is another…But the hardest thing is protecting others. That’s why I believe the strongest martial arts are those that can protect others.”
“That’s a very orthodox answer. Could you give me an example?”
“What need is there for an example? For me, it would be Universal Convergence Divine Art… or rather, the Tang Clan’s poison arts.”
“Poison arts…?”
Hearing my puzzled tone, Tang Jincheon chuckled and continued.
“Because the Tang Clan upholds a moral line and wields power, we don’t get criticized openly. But in the martial world, those who use poison usually get called out for it.”
“That’s true.”
“Do you know why?”
“Isn’t it because the opponent collapses before they even get a chance to showcase their skills?”
“Exactly. For proud martial artists, it’s unbearable to have the martial path they’ve poured their life into denied like that.But that’s only the victim’s perspective.”
Tang Jincheon raised one hand to the sky. A slight surge of internal energy began to stir, then coalesced into a swirling, ominous black smoke atop his palm.
He wasn’t born with the Poison Spirit Constitution, but through a complete transformation, he became a perfect poison wielder.
Perhaps because I’ve grown somewhat accustomed to poison after ingesting Tang Sowol’s toxins daily, I instinctively knew the moment I saw it.
That’s dangerous. If I touch it, I’ll melt away instantly with no chance to resist.
I reflexively assumed a defensive stance. Tang Jincheon, seeing my reaction, gave a soft chuckle and clenched his fist.
At that moment, the poisonous smoke vanished without a trace.
“See? You weren’t poisoned, yet just the possibility made you hesitate.”
“Who wouldn’t be surprised to see the Poison King’s poison?”
“Enough with the flattery. Even if it weren’t mine, if it were any poison you couldn’t resist easily, you’d have reacted the same. From the user’s perspective, just holding it grants the advantage.”
He’s not wrong. Unless the difference in power is overwhelming, fights always come down to strategic reads.
If poison can shut down most of your opponent’s moves, there’s no greater advantage.
Tang Jincheon nodded and continued.
“Poison ultimately eats away at the body. But because of that, you can fight more enemies, take fewer risks…And even if you face a vastly superior opponent, you can still land a blow if you’re willing to bet your life.”
Ah.
The first thing that came to mind was from before the regression—the annihilation of the Tang Clan in Sichuan.Only the Heavenly Demon, who destroyed them, would know the full details.
But the poisoned land, where no life could survive, and the countless hidden weapons covering the ground left a vivid impression.
No doubt they all gave their lives to poison the Heavenly Demon just a little, to pierce him with even a single hidden weapon.
If one person failed, the next stepped up. If that still wasn’t enough, then another.
All for the greater cause, for vengeance, and to protect their family.
Thanks to that, Tang Sowol was able to escape, and though the Tang Clan’s members scattered, many survived.
Though the Tang Jincheon of my previous life couldn’t defeat the Heavenly Demon…
I remember his deeds clearly, and so I fully understood what he was trying to say.
“I see. Though the cost may be great, poison arts offer a chance to make the impossible possible—That’s why you believe they’re the strongest martial arts.”
“Exactly. You really are my son-in-law, catching on so quickly.”
Tang Jincheon chuckled with satisfaction.
It was a short exchange, but I felt like I’d gotten a glimpse into what he truly valued.
He chose to be the head of the vast Sichuan Tang Clan, rather than just a lone martial artist.
What mattered to him was protecting the clan, the family that had thrived for generations, even at the cost of his own life.
He wanted to become an unassailable wall that no outsider could dare challenge.
Truly a fitting answer for an orthodox sect—or more precisely, for the Tang Clan.
Even though I’ve grown somewhat used to living here, their values still feel foreign to me.
But if the people you must protect aren’t a grand clan, but just a few people close to you—then I can relate.
For instance, Tang Sowol, Seol Lihyang…
Even though it's unlikely for a Flowering Stage master like Seo Mun-Hwarin to be in danger,
if she were in peril before my eyes, I wouldn’t hesitate to draw my sword.
Victory or death doesn’t matter. I just have to do it.Otherwise, I’ll lose my mind.
With that lingering ticklish sensation swirling in my chest, I bowed my head.
“Thank you, Father-in-law. I feel a little more at ease now.”
“Think nothing of it. As someone who’s walked this path ahead of you—and as your father-in-law—I can always offer advice. Though honestly, I was a bit surprised you even asked this kind of question.”
“Pardon?”
“Think about it. Questions like ‘What’s the strongest martial art?’ are ones children ask when they’ve just started learning.”
Now that he mentions it, I never had such questions when I was young.
I already knew advanced arts were better than third-rate ones.
That was enough. Rather than wondering beyond that, I just focused on getting stronger with whatever was in my hands.
To me, martial arts were just a tool to survive. That hasn’t changed.
But after losing everything once before my regression, I’ve realized that surviving alone means nothing.
Of course, Tang Jincheon’s answer isn’t necessarily the right one for me.
Ultimately, I have to find and decide my own path.Still, as advice, what he said was incredibly valuable.
And as long as you don’t let yourself be swayed, the more advice, the better.
I nudged Seo Mun-Hwarin in the side as she sat pretending to watch the duel but clearly eavesdropping.
“Nyat?! Wh-why are you poking me?! Use words!”
“What do you think, Senior Seo Mun-Hwarin?”
“Think about what?”
“No need to pretend. You heard everything.”
“Th-this One truly has no idea what you’re talking about…”
She awkwardly averted her gaze, clearly dodging. But before long, she cautiously glanced back and spoke.
“Kuhm-kuhm. Well then, to answer seriously—This One believes strong martial arts are like shouting loudly.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Shouting at the world. Proclaiming, ‘This is the injustice I suffered, and I will return it in kind.’”
“That’s…”
“It’s something I tell myself, something strangers might hear…But the one I most want to hear it is the enemy of This One.”
Seo Mun-Hwarin spoke in a calm voice with a faint smile.
“No matter how far away they are, so they can hear. Even if they block their ears, so it reaches them. Even if I can’t face them directly, I shout so loud they lose sleep in fear. That’s the martial art This One values. The louder the cry, the stronger it becomes.”
I understood what she was saying. I knew what she once pursued.
But in the end…
“What was left after all that?”
“Eyes swollen from crying. A voice too hoarse to come out properly. A body so exhausted it could collapse at any moment. And eyes that look at me as if repulsed.”
Tang Jincheon wanted to leave something behind, even if he died.
But Seo Mun-Hwarin… had nothing.
Her martial arts only dragged herself and those around her into ruin.
So when she finally achieved her revenge, she realized—It had been too much.
She’d gained the strength she longed for, achieved her vengeance,
Yet in her hands remained only blood.
It was only after facing and accepting that emptiness that she could ascend to the Flowering Stage.
So the “strong martial arts” she spoke of must be what her past self had once sought.
If so—
“Senior Seo Mun-Hwarin.”
“Mmn?”
“What about now?”
At my abrupt question, she pondered for a moment, then smiled gently and shook her head.
“Strength in martial arts no longer matters to This One. What matters is whether I’ve obtained what I truly desire.”
“You will.”
What Seo Mun-Hwarin wants is to return to the past—to the happiest time of her life.
Of course, unless she experiences regression like me, she can’t go back.
But she can start building it anew from now on.
It’s not too late.
With that thought in mind, I lightly placed a hand over hers.
She stiffened immediately—but soon relaxed and chuckled softly.
“Everyone’s said their piece. Now it’s your turn. What do you think makes a martial art strong?”
“Well, is there really any deep meaning to it?”
Hearing Tang Jincheon and Seo Mun-Hwarin’s thoughts gave me some insight, but…
A lifetime of beliefs doesn’t change overnight.
“A martial art that kills people well is a strong martial art.”
Looking down at the martial arena, the duel had ended.
A peaceful bout where both had shown their all, yet no one had died.
Next up was Tang Sowol.