Chapter 56
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: Yang Cho-gun vs. Gu Geum-ji
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Yu Si-bin, carried on a stretcher to the infirmary, was greeted by the finest physicians dispatched from the imperial court—the best healers in all the Central Plains.
They quickly assessed his condition and began urgent treatment.
Worried that a crowd of his fellow Imperial Palace Martial Academy students would cause chaos, Tae-seong checked on him alone.
"How's he doing?"
"As you can see, his left leg and right arm are broken. We've set the fractures properly and splinted them, so in a few months, they'll heal even stronger than before."
"No concerns elsewhere?"
Tae-seong was concerned about internal injuries.
"There's some minor internal damage, but that'll be treated with herbal tonics—no need to worry."
"Thank you, esteemed physician."
"I'll go prepare the medicine now."
"Please take good care of him."
Tae-seong bowed in gratitude to the physician before turning back to Yu Si-bin.
"You're lucky. It could have been much worse."
Despite the pain twisting his face, Yu Si-bin forced out words for the worried Tae-seong.
"Th-thanks. Because of you... I fought without regrets."
"What did I do? This is all because you trained so hard. You fought brilliantly."
Only then did Yu Si-bin smile with relief, and Tae-seong grinned back.
"I'll make sure to avenge you properly."
The next match was Yang Cho-gun's turn.
Like the other students, Yang Cho-gun's face was flushed with excitement.
"You look nervous."
"Do I?"
"It's the most expressive face I've seen on you yet."
"Is that so? I'm not nervous—I'm thrilled."
"Thrilled?"
"Isn't this my chance to show those fools who mock my master's swordsmanship what it's really capable of? I can't wait to clash with them."
"You're not right in the head either, judging by how you light up in battle."
"Says you."
"What about me?"
Yang Cho-gun chuckled and stepped into the arena.
As soon as he did, a torrent of boos rained down.
"It's the barbarian's blade!"
"What? The barbarian's blade?"
"That's the guy using that foreign scum's weapon, right?"
"Yep."
"Bah! Ptui! No decent weapons of your own, so you stoop to wielding that savage trash? Have some shame!"
"I hear he's from the Hainan Sect?"
"What? Hainan Sect? You're joking. What would a Hainan disciple lack to learn such barbaric swordplay?"
"Who knows..."
"Besides, there's a Hainan fighter right over there. You think they'd let one of their own pull that crap?"
"True enough."
"Booo! Get out! Barbarian's blade! Booooo!"
"Boooo!"
Amid the relentless jeers, Yang Cho-gun remained utterly composed, gripping his late master's rapier even tighter.
His opponent was Gu Geum-ji, an expert from the Spear Intent Gate under the Dragon Academy. He treated Yang Cho-gun with utter contempt, exuding arrogance from start to finish.
Even as the referees patted him down, he taunted Yang Cho-gun.
"An honor for the family, huh?"
"What's that?"
"Getting to cross blades with the infamous barbarian's sword wielder."
"Am I that famous? Never heard."
"You deaf to those boos? Every kid in the martial world knows the barbarian's blade. Playing humble... or just stupid? Heh."
He smirked viciously to provoke him, but Yang Cho-gun's gaze turned ice-cold.
"Then you must know that too."
"Know what?"
"That those who mocked me as the barbarian's blade didn't end well."
"Is that right? But spirit like that needs to pick its targets, don't you think? Heh..."
As their verbal sparring continued, the gong signaling the match's start rang out.
—Dang!
Yang Cho-gun drew his slender rapier and assumed an elegant guard stance.
Intrigued, a child in the stands asked his mother.
"Mommy, what's that?"
"That's a barbarian martial art, dear."
"Barbarian? But it looks so graceful and cool."
The boy's words drew glares from nearby martial artists who'd been booing Yang Cho-gun. His flustered mother scolded him.
"You little brat! Don't you dare praise barbarian arts!"
Unlike the mocking crowd, a few watched intently. It was, after all, an exotic Western sword style rare in the Central Plains martial world.
Even the jeerers outwardly scorned foreign arts but couldn't help their curiosity—which soon turned to hostility.
Yang Cho-gun's blade unleashed an astonishing, unforeseen technique.
"Hah! Needle thrust!"
Faster than the Jeomchang Sect's Phantom Sword, the stab surged toward Gu Geum-ji.
Realizing he was outmatched and getting struck by the "inferior" foreign art, Gu Geum-ji gritted his teeth.
"Tch!"
Unable to breathe under the relentless assault, he backpedaled desperately until he escaped with a leaping Flying Dragon stance.
But his robes were already sliced in multiple places.
Enraged, Gu Geum-ji unleashed the Spear Intent Gate's arts at full power.
His strikes brimmed with ferocious might and overwhelming spirit.
"Sword aura!"
"Ooh, sword aura!"
"At his age, wielding sword aura freely—truly a Dragon Academy prodigy!"
The crowd, seeing the aura pouring from Gu Geum-ji's blade, was convinced of Yang Cho-gun's defeat. No way that flimsy skewer could block it.
But contrary to expectations, a needle-sharp sword aura erupted from Yang Cho-gun's rapier, gradually dismantling the assault.
Everyone—spectators and competitors alike—gasped in shock.
No one had imagined sword aura from a foreigner's blade.
"Urk!"
Gu Geum-ji panicked at the unexpected counter from the aura.
'This guy... peak first-rate? How with that trash art...? Hmph! Even so, your mediocre junk can't touch Spear Intent Gate arts!'
Confident in his skill, he unleashed a barrage of elite techniques.
But sadly, he wasn't Yang Cho-gun's match.
He planned to snap that shallow blade in half and riddle Yang Cho-gun's body with holes.
Instead, holes started appearing in him.
Puk!
"Gah!"
Puk!
"Argh!"
Puk! Puk!
"Heuk!"
The sword aura from the rapier mercilessly pierced his body.
A rapier's thin, sharp blade excelled at targeting vital points without killing.
In other words, it could inflict excruciating pain without fatal strikes.
Drip... Drip...
Blood poured from his honeycomb-like wounds onto the arena floor.
The growing pool of blood made continuing impossible; the referee was ready to stop it.
"Continue?"
"Urgh..."
"You'll die from blood loss."
"Urgh... I... surrender."
Gu Geum-ji's concession sparked an upset.
Yang Cho-gun delivered the Imperial Palace Martial Academy's first unexpected victory.
It was incredibly uplifting.
The academy students, demoralized by Yu Si-bin's loss, erupted in cheers.
Even the academy head forgot decorum, climbing onto his chair to shout victory cries—oblivious to Jang Man-cheol's stare from beside him.
Yang Cho-gun's win instilled a spark of confidence in the other Imperial Palace competitors.
Upon his return to the waiting area, the team and instructors swarmed him with congratulations—going so far as to toss him in the air.
'Yeah. When else would they get to celebrate like this? Plus, boosting morale matters.'
Tae-seong wanted to stop them but couldn't douse their joy over the single win.
"Good work."
"Just doing what had to be done."
"Sit here and rest."
Tae-seong offered him the prime seat.
"Thanks."
As Yang Cho-gun sat, someone grabbed his hand. Startled, he pulled away.
"What're you doing?"
"Share some of that energy."
"E-energy?"
"Yeah, your winning energy!"
At "energy," the other competitors mobbed him, clamoring for a share.
"Me too!"
"Gimme some!"
"I was first!"
Surrounded by the rowdy men, Yang Cho-gun's panicked voice rang out.
"L-line up!"
The blood-soaked arena was cleared, and the next match followed: Hainan Sect's Yang Dan-won versus White Lotus Valley's Mok Ya-seong.
The Hainan Sect was based on what moderns call Hainan Island.
They amassed wealth through maritime trade, often clashing with pirates.
Yang Cho-gun eyed Hainan Sect's Yang Dan-won with a complicated gaze.
"Know him?"
"A little..."
His trailing off seemed a plea not to pry further, so I let it drop.
I guessed this man was tied to why Yang Cho-gun left the Hainan Sect.
Mid-conversation, their match began.
White Lotus Valley wielded the peculiar White Lotus Ghost Blade—a massive, thick turtle-head broadsword.
Mok Ya-seong's build matched his weapon's heft.
Yang Dan-won, by contrast, was average-sized, but his eyes burned with confidence.
—Dang!
They circled warily at the start.
Once probing ended, they clashed—the huge broadsword sweeping wildly across the arena.
Yang Dan-won dodged the ferocious onslaught with weasel-like agility.