Chapter 55
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 55
Chapter Title: Yoo Si-bin
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“Hyap!”
―Chaeng! Chaeng! Chaengchaeng!
“Kuhk!”
The trajectory of the sword and the sword energies flying in off-beat rhythms were like venomous serpents targeting their prey. It was the opening strike of the Flying Serpent Sect’s signature Flying Serpent Ten Swords.
But the Geomchang Sect expert was no pushover either.
He countered with the initial form of the Geomchang Sect’s secret technique, the Phantom Light Sword Method.
His sword began to emit a hazy glow.
The two clashing right before their eyes were superior even to the super first-rate warriors who had battled Hwang Tae-seong to the death in the Red Moon Pavilion in the past.
Though their ages were only half his.
The Imperial Palace Martial Academy cadets were awestruck by the martial prowess of these two academy champions, who wielded sword energy as naturally as breathing.
“Gulp!”
They felt the gap in skill down to their bones, yet inwardly they recalled the worst-case scenario: without Tae-seong’s help, they would have become laughingstocks here.
As they trembled, the match intensified further.
“Death Omen Inevitable Sword!”
“Phantom Light Six Corpses Sword!”
The two ultimate techniques collided in midair, sending sword energy scattering in all directions.
Chwajajajak!!
Chaenchaenchaeng!!
Some of it gouged long scars into the arena floor.
The two landed back on the ground, breathing raggedly.
Their clothes were stained red with blood seeping from their wounds.
But neither showed fear or retreat.
After exchanging around a hundred more exchanges, the tide began to turn.
Both were battered beyond recognition, like blood-soaked rags, their swords chipped to the edges.
“Heok! Heok! Heok!”
The Flying Serpent Sect expert raised his hand, conceding defeat amid his labored breaths.
“I... I’ve lost...”
The referee pointed a small flag toward Cheon Gi-ryang and shouted.
“Victory to Cheon Gi-ryang of the Geomchang Sect!”
“Woooaaah!”
“Waaaah!”
“Hurray!”
Thunderous cheers erupted from the orthodox faction side.
The spectators, too, applauded the two warriors’ impressive display, even as ordinary folk.
True to their fame from renowned academies in the martial world, the first match had been a spectacular showdown.
While watching their bout, someone sent me a transmission.
-It’s me.
I knew who it was just from the voice.
-Long time no see.
-Sorry it took so long to decide.
-No matter. What’s your decision?
-We’ve decided to serve you as our lord.
‘Lord?’
I was a bit puzzled by the term “lord,” but let it slide for now.
-Good choice.
-I swear my loyalty from here on.
-Loyalty, huh... By the way, what’s your name?
-Hong Dan-bi.
-Hong Dan-bi, got it. Then I’ll give you your first mission.
She hesitated at “first mission,” tense for a moment before responding.
-Yes, my lord!
-The grave duty I need you to handle is...
And so I assigned her the first mission.
A monumental task that would shape the next decade.
After the first match ended, the mood at the Imperial Palace Martial Academy was grim.
They’d known the gap existed, but facing it head-on made it hit home.
There was nothing more to do for the demoralized cadets than reiterate not to forget what I’d taught them.
The next match was Yoo Si-bin’s.
Unfortunately, his opponent was Shaolin’s Gongyeon.
Gongyeon was a top contender for the championship, alongside Jangbaekpung.
Shaolin was renowned for its staff arts, especially from Kaifeng.
When Yoo Si-bin ascended the stage staff in hand, Gongyeon called for his own from a comrade.
A staff flew toward the arena, and before the match began, Gongyeon snatched it midair with flashy aerial flips to seize the initiative.
His movements were as nimble as a flying squirrel.
Yoo Si-bin gripped his staff tightly while eyeing the Shaolin master, reflecting on his journey.
‘Don’t shake. I got here with just this staff. Trust the grueling training I’ve endured!’
As he steeled himself staring at the calluses on his palms, Gongyeon spoke up.
“Lay practitioner, why not forfeit gracefully instead of pushing yourself?”
“...”
It sounded like concern, but it was blatant condescension.
Yoo Si-bin gritted his teeth and swallowed the humiliation.
“I appreciate the worry, monk, but I’m no weakling needing your concern.”
“Oh? Is that so? Buddha’s mercy is ever generous. If it gets too tough, just say the word. Amitabha.”
Gongyeon pressed his palms together toward Yoo Si-bin.
After the referee’s body search, the two faced off.
Shaolin’s Gongyeon assumed his stance. Yoo Si-bin mirrored him.
Yoo Si-bin felt the vast skill gap with the Shaolin monk viscerally.
He sensed the Mount Tai Crush aura, which even peak masters could barely mimic.
“Kuh!”
Yoo Si-bin clenched his teeth to avoid crumbling.
Only now did he grasp Tae-seong’s words.
The goal was to lose with dignity, not embarrassingly.
Without Tae-seong’s brutal strength training, he’d be on his knees in humiliating defeat right now.
Thanks to Tae-seong, he averted crisis, but the opponent was still beyond him.
‘N-No way I can win... But at least don’t show an ugly sight.’
As Yoo Si-bin resolved this, the gong signaling the start rang out.
Daengdaengdaengdaeng~
With the sound, Yoo Si-bin leaped back, escaping the Mount Tai Crush range. Gongyeon’s eyebrow twitched.
He’d assumed the layman-level foe would buckle under the pressure, but the evasion surprised him slightly.
‘Hmm. Not total pushover? An elite from the Imperial Palace Academy after all?’
Gongyeon’s pride smarted seeing the ordinary-looking guy shrug off his aura.
“I’ll give you ten exchanges.”
Normally, such taunts provoked outrage, but Yoo Si-bin wasn’t one to refuse.
“I gratefully accept the monk’s gracious offer! Ta-at!”
Yoo Si-bin unleashed the strongest form he knew.
‘No second chances. Show everything in ten exchanges!’
From his spear poured the Imperial Palace Academy’s essence: the 64-form spear method.
The fruit of bloody-knuckled practice—a simple yet overwhelming barrage.
Its ferocity even flustered Gongyeon momentarily.
“Ta-hat!”
―Peopeok! Peok! Papapap! Pat! Pat! Papak! Pokpokpok! Pu-hwak!
In a flash, the ten exchanges ended.
Gongyeon had offered first, yet he felt like a dog getting pummeled.
Unprepared for such explosive offense, Gongyeon hardened his expression, getting serious.
Like an uncle play-fighting his young nephew on Lunar New Year’s, only to get hit in a vital spot?
Gongyeon glanced down at his feet.
He’d been pushed back two steps.
Overwhelmed by the momentum of a foe he’d dismissed as one-strike fodder.
To Gongyeon, this was utter humiliation.
“...”
Mercy vanished from Gongyeon’s face.
The moment he truly became a hound.
As Gongyeon unleashed proper staff arts, the air ripped with whistling winds across the arena.
Boongboongboongboong!
Peopeok! Peok!
“Kuhk!”
Yoo Si-bin’s staff shuddered as if to snap blocking Gongyeon’s strikes.
The massive impacts jolted straight to his hands and arms.
Palm skin tore, blood bursting from repeated shocks.
Without Tae-seong’s external hardening training, he’d have dropped it ages ago.
Without reflex enhancement drills, he couldn’t withstand the storm of attacks.
Yoo Si-bin felt genuine gratitude toward Tae-seong.
The academy’s supposed weakest shone unexpectedly against a championship favorite, shocking the crowd.
Against Shaolin’s Gongyeon, no less.
But holding out indefinitely was impossible.
As Gongyeon poured in true qi, Yoo Si-bin’s staff shattered.
Ujijik!
“Kweuk!”
Yoo Si-bin gripped the remnants as twin short staffs, swinging desperately.
“Hap! Hap! Hap!”
With short shouts, Gongyeon thrust three times in succession.
Yoo Si-bin barely parried with his broken stubs, but they crumbled further each time, the final thrust piercing his abdomen.
“Keoheoheok!”
Simultaneously, Gongyeon’s staff struck Yoo Si-bin’s left lower and right upper body.
Yoo Si-bin raised his right arm to guard his face, but his left leg and right arm twisted unnaturally.
His body straightened midair.
Gongyeon booted him away.
“Keok!”
Yoo Si-bin spewed blood, flying out of the arena.
Crashing hard, he lay still for a while.
“Oh no!”
Gongyeon belatedly realized his overkill, eyeing his foe worriedly.
Not out of care for Yoo Si-bin.
Fear that he might have killed him and forfeited the prelims.
The crowd watched anxiously too.
Then Yoo Si-bin twitched. His relatively intact right hand slowly rose, thumb up.
All praised his courage facing the top seed without flinching.
Conversely, boos rained on Gongyeon.
Especially from unorthodox masters.
They harbored grudges from past defeats by Shaolin.
“Hey! Baldy! Too vicious for a monk, ain’t ya?”
“Monks don’t even squash ants, right? Ants no, but people okay to kill?”
“That destroyer monk vibe already?”
“Boooo~.”
“Booo~”
“Central Plains is Daoist land! Buddhism, back to India!”
People love underdog tales against giants.
An ordinary Imperial Palace warrior challenging Shaolin’s might stirred hearts.
“...”
Gongyeon felt bitter despite victory amid the jeers.
“Amitabha...”
With boos chasing him, Gongyeon slunk away.