Chapter 54
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: The Start of the Sparring Tournament
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After the opening ceremony concluded, the competitors headed to their assigned lodgings.
They planned to rest there for two days, shaking off their travel fatigue and preparing for the tournament.
In truth, we had only walked for a single day, so there wasn't much fatigue to speak of for us.
The competitors from the two major academies, who had traveled much farther, must have been far wearier.
Even so, it didn't bring us much joy.
That was because the Imperial Palace Martial Academy team held no clear advantage, even with such a disadvantageous condition.
I instructed our competitors to rest at the lodgings, steady their minds and bodies, and conserve their strength for the tournament.
But sure enough, they couldn't stand being cooped up in their rooms. One by one, they crept out and gathered in the open lot behind the lodgings to start exercising.
They had reached the stage where skipping daily workouts made them anxious.
It was the fear of muscle loss—the very thing hardcore gym rats dreaded most.
Wasn't it the proper attitude of a true fitness maniac to calculate potential muscle loss first thing upon waking from a week-long coma?
They stripped off their upper garments as a group and began doing handstand push-ups.
Performing strength training bare-chested where students from other academies had gathered naturally drew everyone's attention.
"Oh my!"
"Eek!"
"Goodness gracious!"
Screams erupted from maids and female students of the various academies in every direction.
Yet those women made no move to flee; they peeked through splayed fingers, taking in the full view.
The flushed reactions of the female students left the male students feeling deeply uncomfortable and irritated.
"What's their deal? Why'd they suddenly strip and start acting crazy?"
"And what's up with those guys' bodies?"
"Are they insane? How much external training have they done?"
"Hmph! Since inner power didn't cut it, they must've hammered away at external arts like mad."
"Heh... figures."
"Has to be."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Poor bastards."
"Yeah, real pitiful..."
Even as they spoke, they kept touching their own abs and forearms.
Clearly, they were conscious of the Imperial Palace Martial Academy representatives' chiseled, impressive physiques.
My disciples(?) were elevating the academy's prestige—no, the imperial prestige—right there. I couldn't just stand by.
I decided to join in their display of imperial glory.
As I stripped off my shirt and merged with the group, the male students—who had been clicking their tongues at my otherworldly physique—fell instantly silent.
The female students, needless to say, unleashed even more vigorous dolphin-like shrieks.
"Kyaaaaah!"
"Hah..."
Thud!
In the midst of it, someone collapsed.
"Baek Sa-hong! What's wrong with you all of a sudden?"
"Sa-hong's collapsed over here!"
I spotted Baek Sa-hong being carried off by someone in the distance.
'What happened?'
Since I knew her, I felt a twinge of concern, but it didn't seem serious, so I quickly dismissed it and began warming up with my comrades.
One could never overdo preparation exercises.
Sensing the female students' gazes, our cadets ramped up their workouts with even greater fervor.
When else would they get a chance to bask in such attention from women?
"Hup! Hup! Hup! Hup! Hup!"
"Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!"
"Hyah! One more sandbag!"
"Hey, you sure? Weren't three your limit?"
"Doesn't matter! Add it!"
"Damn it, don't blame me if you get hurt."
The open lot behind the Imperial Palace Martial Academy lodgings soon reverberated with the musky scent of sweating men.
Two days later.
All the competitors gathered at the arena where the matches would take place.
As expected, the waiting area was filled with familiar faces.
Some offered Tae-seong a light nod of acknowledgment.
For instance, the Sword Emperor's grandson or Go Dae-han and the like.
Others, conversely, directed thick hostility toward Tae-seong.
No—most of them did.
To the orthodox faction, Tae-seong was unmistakably a demonic infiltrator. To the unorthodox side, he was a filthy traitor.
The most standout among them were Namgung Mo-cheon of the Namgung family, followed by the son of the Evil Alliance Leader.
The Tiger Claw Palace experts' glares at Tae-seong also looked extremely uncomfortable.
But no matter how much hostility they showed, Tae-seong wasn't one to flinch. He simply ignored them with a yawn.
'Oh, that guy's here too?'
Cheon-sim-dan was among them as well. The moment his eyes met Tae-seong's, he whipped his head away, straining to act dismissive.
Tae-seong merely sneered back at him.
Then, welcome faces appeared: Dang Yeo-rim and Baek Sa-hong, whom he'd glimpsed from afar just days ago.
Baek Sa-hong's face flushed beet red the instant she saw Tae-seong.
"Th-th-th-that guuuuy..."
Everyone couldn't help but gawk at her, barely able to string words together.
She had never reacted this way to any man before.
"What's up with that venomous witch?"
"Dunno. She's staring at that guy over there—must be because of him."
"What? No way she has feelings for him?"
"Nah, come on. The academy's infamous iron wall wouldn't fall for some Imperial Palace Martial Academy nobody."
In truth, Baek Sa-hong possessed beauty enough to stir any man's heart.
She had rejected countless suitors without once yielding.
Yet atop her head sat the jade hairpin Tae-seong had given her, neatly pinned.
For a daughter of such a wealthy family, hairpins were a dime a dozen. Coming here wearing that one meant she'd chosen it deliberately.
Others assumed Dang Yeo-rim wearing a matching one was just a sign of their friendship.
Dang Yeo-rim flashed a bright smile and gave Tae-seong a little wave. He returned it with a casual nod.
But that was it.
Tae-seong harbored no feelings for her beyond the antidote command. He promptly turned away.
Flustered by his cold response, Dang Yeo-rim's face twisted into a complex expression.
Back at Cheonil Tower, her gaze had burned with hot intensity, piercing right through him. Now, he regarded her like a limp sack of barley.
Then, one of the Tiger Claw Palace experts spotted Sima Ryang and exclaimed in surprise.
"You—you? Sima Ryang?"
Sima Ryang stared wordlessly at the one who called his name.
As expected, it was someone he knew well.
Chu O-gyeom—a bully from his private academy days.
Back when they'd met at Cheonhyang, just hearing his voice had made Sima Ryang cringe inwardly. Now, not a shred of fear showed on his face.
Only the venom forged from grueling training filled it.
Seeing Sima Ryang's poisonous glare and massive musculature, Chu O-gyeom looked quite rattled.
Like the shock of encountering a former high school bully turned jaw-droppingly handsome hunk after graduation.
"You've changed a lot."
"You haven't."
"What did you say?"
"Not one bit."
His tone dripped with disdain, sharpening Chu O-gyeom's glare.
"Grown a bit and think you're hot stuff now? Back in the day, you couldn't even meet my eyes."
Sima Ryang gazed at him as if he weren't worth the effort.
"If you feel comfortable, I'll treat you accordingly."
"Oh yeah? A beggar groveling at the Imperial Palace Martial Academy has some guts, huh?"
"Warriors speak with skill, not yapping."
"Heh... Music to my ears. For an old classmate, I'll go easy."
"We'll see if that confidence holds on the sparring stage. Oh, right—your fiancée was looking for you desperately."
"...!"
At those words, Sima Ryang's venomous face drained to ashen in an instant.
Yang Cho-gun also ran into Hainan Sect experts. A chill hung between them.
"The family disgrace shows his face."
Yang Cho-gun said nothing to them.
Their eyes fixed on the rapier at his waist.
"Never thought trash like you would emerge from our Hainan Sect. If not for your father, we'd have crippled your martial arts and turned you into a vegetable."
Even at the venomous regret over failing to do so, Yang Cho-gun showed no reaction.
Only a massive fury quietly blazed in his eyes.
As the sparring tournament began, crowds swarmed the arena surroundings.
It rivaled the frenzy of a World Cup or Olympics.
The stands near the arena—reserved for fellow academy students and the competitors' acquaintances—were already packed. Without connections, sitting there was impossible.
Unless one could fly like a bird, there was no way to watch this century's clash.
Spectators sought alternatives.
But hillsides, high-rise inns, or treetops offering arena views had owners days ago.
Even makeshift illegal bamboo stands sprang up, trading at premium until the guards smashed them—a comical sight.
The first match pitted Dragon Academy against Demon Dragon Academy.
Cheon Gi-ryang of the Piercing Sword Sect and Un Chil-hyeon of the Non-Buddhist Sect ascended the stage with grim resolve. As the tournament's opener and an academy showdown, defeat was unthinkable.
Two judges patted them down beside them.
Checking for poisons or hidden weapons.
Each held a wooden practice sword.
Friendly matches forbade live blades, so the organizers provided custom-fitted wooden ones.
But for those who wielded sword qi freely, edge or no made little difference.
As the first bout, tension between them was indescribable.
—Claaang!
The gong shattered the taut air, signaling the start.
The moment it rang, Cheon Gi-ryang struck first to seize momentum.
"Hyah!"
A swift thrust worthy of the Piercing Sword Sect's famed quicksword.
But the Demon Dragon Academy expert parried it with ease.
He was a disciple of a renowned sword master in unorthodox circles.
Clang! Clang-clang! Clang—
Sparks flew repeatedly between them in an instant.
Their exchanges were so rapid, it felt like watching fireworks.
At a glance, Cheon Gi-ryang of the Piercing Sword Sect held the edge, but soon the Demon Dragon expert unleashed his family's secret technique. His sword path twisted bizarrely.