Yongbong Tournament Preliminaries (2)
“From now on, participants whose names are called will line up in front of their assigned flags in order!”
Azure Dragon Unit Leader Byeok Jin-un briefly explained the preliminaries format and began calling names one by one.
What they called a waiting room was nothing more than a large tent pitched in the corner of the vast training ground where the preliminaries were held. It might be different for the main tournament, but with over 300 participants at this stage, they had no choice.
The crowd erupted in cheers as people whose names were called gathered in front of their group’s flags one by one.
Waaah—————!!
The grand training ground was built for public sparring matches, and like coliseums everywhere, it had that familiar structure. Right now, the surrounding spectator stands were packed.
The Yongbong Tournament allowed even commoners to watch if they had tickets. The Murim Alliance got to recoup some costs, and the civilians got to see martial arts showdowns they’d never otherwise witness.
I’d wondered why so many showed up even for the preliminaries… but now I got it. It was a battle royale format.
Battle royales were unavoidable with this many people.
As I scanned the crowd for Hong Yeonhwa somewhere in that sea of faces, Paeng Soso, who caught my intent, leaned in and whispered in my ear.
“Big Sis Hong is probably up in the VIP seats with Father. Over there.”
Looking where Paeng Soso pointed, I spotted the high-end spectator area clearly separated from the general seats. Several people who screamed “big shots” at first glance were seated there. Representatives sent by the sects and clans, no doubt? They wouldn’t send just anyone—probably at least elders or direct disciples, which explained the otherworldly aura around that section.
But even among them, two stood out especially. One was Paeng Ojin, with his giant-like build radiating an ominous presence. The other was Hong Yeonhwa, surrounded by female martial artists, munching on snacks.
…What are you doing there, Heavenly Demon?
A nun from the Ami Sect in her sparring robes, a female Daoist from the Hwasan Sect with plum blossoms embroidered on her sleeves, and some swordswoman in fancy archer’s garb—I couldn’t tell her affiliation. All of them were beaming as they fed Hong Yeonhwa candies and honey rice cakes, chatting and laughing hoho-ha-ha.
Hong Yeonhwa nom-nommed away, occasionally sparkling her eyes or waving her arms excitedly to explain something, which only made the laughter around her grow louder.
What’s going on? Why’s the atmosphere so cozy over there?
Paeng Ojin, who saw Hong Yeonhwa as some old demon from a higher plane, looked utterly baffled, like a scholar who’d just discovered that platypus fur glows fluorescent under UV light. There was a hypothesis that it helped them recognize each other in the dark since they’re nocturnal… So do platypuses see each other sparkling at night?
Plop-plop-plop. As I imagined glowing platypuses crawling around,
Just as I spotted them, Hong Yeonhwa spotted me, and our eyes met.
“——————.”
Too far to hear, but her adorable hopping in place made me wave back along with Paeng Soso.
She lit up at my response, chattering away to those around her. Seeing that made my shoulders puff up for no reason.
Yeah! My house’s Heavenly Demon is pretty cute!
Group assignments didn’t take long. I was in Group 4, fairly early, while Paeng Soso was in Group 23, a bit later.
Now we were back in the waiting tent, watching the earlier groups fight while awaiting our turn.
A dozen people clashing all at once was pretty thrilling.
But… something felt off.
“Young Master Jin. You just thought it looked kinda lame, didn’t you?”
“…It showed on my face?”
“I just know you, that’s all.”
Paeng Soso smirked and spoke up.
“It’s the preliminaries, so this is normal. You spar with experts like Big Sis Hong and Father every day, so it might not feel right, but the Yongbong Tournament is for the later-generation disciples, after all?”
“True…”
Those later-generation disciples were mid-20s at oldest. Most were first-rate, with only a rare few reaching peak. Usually from the Five Great Clans or Nine Great Sects… and those guys all skipped prelims with recommendation passes.
“Still, don’t get too cocky.”
“I know.”
Murim was vast. There’d be talents who got strong despite mediocre arts, or disciples of rogue masters. Either way, I’d just do my best.
Some held back to hide their arts—maybe they seemed threatening at first but were easy to counter after seeing them once, or they had enemies and didn’t want their exact level known. Those folks might conceal their strength for emergencies… but that wasn’t me.
As we chatted idly with Paeng Soso, Group 3 finished, and it was my turn.
“I’ll wait with Yeonhwa and Father-in-law after it’s over.”
“Sure. I’ll watch your cool moves from here. You won’t disappoint, right?”
“Kinda pressuring me now…”
I pinched the mischievously grinning Paeng Soso’s nose and slowly headed up to the training ground.
Participants trickled in one by one. Eleven including me. Every one radiated a sharp, honed aura.
I’d entered the Yongbong Tournament just to gain experience while leaving victory to Hong Yeonhwa, but for them, this was a real launchpad to make a name in Murim.
Confirming the numbers, Azure Dragon Unit Leader nodded and spoke.
“Lastly, I’ll explain the rules once more.”
The rules were simple: No lethal strikes. No intentional severe injuries. Hidden weapons allowed, but not overly lethal ones. Poisons completely banned, etc. A bunch of them, but all standard sparring rules anyone would know.
“Violators will be disqualified, and depending on severity, we may hand them to the authorities or cripple their dantian. Keep that in mind.”
As he finished and stepped down, one participant raised a hand.
“Hold on! Crippling the dantian… Isn’t that too harsh?”
“Harsh…? You really think so?”
“Y-Yes… It ends their life as a martial artist completely.”
Azure Dragon Unit Leader grinned slyly.
“Indeed. They lose everything they’ve built—and can never live as one again.”
“Then…!”
“But we only cripple dantians for intentional severing of limbs or shattering another’s dantian. If you ruin someone’s future, yours should be at risk too.”
“Ah…”
The participant nodded blankly in realization, and Azure Dragon Unit Leader shrugged.
“Of course, with me watching, it won’t happen.”
Soon after he left the ground, the gong signaling the group match rang out.
At the piercing metallic sound, all eleven drew weapons.
No one charged recklessly—probably wary of drawing group attacks.
Fine, then. I’d go first.
I unleashed sword qi in a flash and smashed the sword of the guy next to me, who was just gulping nervously.
Clang-!
With Muryeong Singong maxing my physical prowess and sword qi, shattering a weapon was easy. Unless it had even a bit of refined steel like the one from my master.
“Wh-what…!”
Too bad—it was plain iron. He stared dumbfounded at his shattered blade, but I couldn’t hear the rest.
“Haaah!”
“Where you going!”
“Damn! Worst luck ever!”
The once-quiet group exploded into action now that someone dropped out.
I stepped back half a pace with my right foot for pivot and spun forcefully, imbuing rotation into Horizontal Small Heaven Army to smack the side of a sword stealthily stabbing from behind.
Kwachik!
The strike trailed white sword qi like a tail, shattering another sword. The opponent’s face twisted in dismay.
He looked like he’d suffered a grave injustice, but oh well. If it bugged him, he should’ve blocked with sword qi.
I leaped past the second dropout, targeting a fist-fighter tangled with a saber user. The saber guy swung wide for an opening, but was it bait? The fist-fighter twisted aside and hammered the saber’s flat with his elbow.
“Kuh?!”
He didn’t drop it, but the shock pitched him forward. As the fist-fighter wound up for a jaw strike on the exposed chin,
“Hup!”
I kicked the fist-fighter’s side mid-charge. Purely in physical strength, I outdid even Paeng Soso now. I pulled back to avoid breaking ribs—just a shove—but,
“Kuhk!”
It was enough; he screamed and flew out of the arena.
The saber guy smirked as his pursuer got ringed-out. Planning to regroup?
No chance. My hands gathered at chest level naturally from the kick. As my airborne foot hit ground, I thrust my arms forward.
A pinpoint stab.
Kang!
His unstable stance kept me from shattering the saber like before, but it knocked it flying from his grip.
“Damn it…”
His face soured again seeing it sail far away.
After that, I weaved through the participants, dropping them one by one. Luckily, my group was all first-rates, so it wasn’t tough.
Anyone clashing swords with me lost their weapon in one or two exchanges, and dodging? I was too fast for them.
By the time half were left,
The remaining three formed a shaky alliance and ganged up. But how refined could poor teamwork be?
I charged the frontal sword. Shattered his weapon—and kept going.
I broke through the encirclement, slamming the front guy. The two on the flanks ended up attacking each other.
Attacks always leave openings. I swung at the awkwardly frozen pair.
Waa—————!!
And the roaring cheers echoed around.
…This has to count as cool, right?