Declaration of Departure
Geol Jon and Chang Jon blinked in disbelief.
‘...Too noisy?’
‘...Fight somewhere else?’
Exchanging glances, they confirmed they'd heard right.
Of course, they were furious.
‘How dare he say that to us!’
‘Time to teach him some manners first!’
But they couldn't act on it right away.
Their killing intents were locked in a tense standoff—whichever moved first would suffer a devastating blow.
-Akga. This isn't the time to fight.
-Seems that way.
-Withdraw your killing intent.
-You first.
-This bastard! Don't you trust me?
-Would you trust yourself?
-You exiled geezer!
-Lone beggar, what did you just say?
Far from withdrawing, their killing intents toward each other only thickened.
The killing intent from two of the Ten Supremes!
Jeong Gwang, caught in the crossfire beside them, shivered with delight.
Yes. This is the feeling.
In his previous life, he'd basked in enemies' killing intent like sunlight.
Forgotten for a while, now it brought back fierce memories.
As Jeong Gwang's eyes deepened...
Footsteps approached.
The killing intent from the two absolute masters had roused the sleeping warriors nearby.
Oh no. At this rate, no meat for me.
Jeong Gwang nodded curtly to the elders.
“Take care, then.”
“...!”
“...!”
With that, he vanished using Cloud Dragon Concealed Steps.
Moments later, he slipped into the Murim Alliance kitchen.
Gnawing on meat, the taste was just so-so.
The Seven Great Clans' meals were fancy.
It was dawn rations for rank-and-file warriors on watch duty, so that explained it.
Still, the gap's too wide.
The Murim Alliance belonged to the Nine Great Sects and One Gang and Seven Great Clans, sure—but they were propped up by countless minor sects.
And even humbler folk without sect ties, drawn by fame or chivalry, handled the grunt work.
Plus the clerks too.
Treating them like this? No wonder morale sucked.
Not Jeong Gwang's problem, though.
Belly full, sleep's creeping in.
He downed a cup of liquor to rinse his mouth and slipped out.
Maybe nap, then drill Baek Seung-mu...
Huh?
The Kunlun quarters were mobbed.
At the center: Geol Jon and Chang Jon in standoff.
Still at it? They gonna actually fight?
Nope.
They were trapped in a dilemma.
“A clash between two of the Ten Supremes. My eyes are feasting today.”
“You too? I sent word to our main sect's disciples. They'll rush over soon.”
“Right. When's the next chance to witness this? I should call my kids too.”
Spectators gathering, messengers running—total chaos.
Geol Jon and Chang Jon's eyes wavered.
How to back down now with ‘We weren't really gonna fight’?
And it didn't end there.
“Who do you think wins?”
“I'd give the edge to Chang Jon.”
“Rumors say he's half a realm above. But I'll bet on Geol Jon.”
“Ho? Why?”
“Chang Jon uses a spear, right? Geol Jon's a close-quarters master. Spear guy'll struggle.”
“Doubt it.”
“Wanna bet, punk?”
“Any amount!”
Spectators bantering loudly.
Naturally, it lit a fire under Geol Jon and Chang Jon's pride.
But fighting before this crowd? The loser couldn't show their face again.
Hmm.
Jeong Gwang grasped it instantly.
They'll fizzle out like this.
No point watching; he headed inside when Un Hak's voice rang out.
“When'd you sneak out?”
Turning, he saw not just Un Hak—all Kunlun disciples were spectating.
“Aigo.”
“Why go back in?”
“It's obvious it'll end in standoff. Why watch?”
His words sparked murmurs.
“Yeah, dragging on too long.”
“It'll just fizzle?”
“Nah, those two got face to save.”
“But... feels off.”
Doubts and disbelief spread.
Jeong Gwang tossed fuel on the fire.
“Everyone, head in. Looks like neither's confident.”
His voice—crystal clear, carrying perfectly.
Geol Jon and Chang Jon's faces twisted.
Quick side-glances at the crowd.
Damn!
This!
Most nodded, faces disappointed.
“Makes sense, but still disappointing.”
“Time catches us all. Let's go.”
No choice left.
Geol Jon roared, swinging his ta-gu-bong.
“Yaaah!”
Chang Jon bellowed, thrusting his spear.
“Haaap!”
The pinnacle of righteous warriors—the Ten Supremes!
Geol Jon and Chang Jon's earth-shaking clash began.
* * *
The Central Plains are vast, warriors many.
But true masters? Few and far between.
To them, the Ten Supremes were immortals on clouds.
So how would warriors react to witnessing their fight?
Everyone but Jeong Gwang went wild!
But.
What is there to see?
What's even happening?
Reality.
The Ten Supremes weren't supreme for nothing—blinding speed was baseline.
To those without the skill to follow, it was pointless.
Some grasped bits, sensed much... but generously, a handful at most.
Those not in the handful glanced around, suspecting they alone missed it.
Meeting eyes, they flinched.
Gauging my level!
Can't look weak!
Bluffing admiration erupted everywhere.
“Whoa! Incredible!”
“Eyes opened wide today!”
Bluffs spread like plague.
Soon the arena echoed with praise for Geol Jon and Chang Jon's arts.
“As expected of Geol Jon! Unleashing Drunken Eight Immortals Steps—fantastic, right!”
Drunken Eight Immortals Steps? What?
Geol Jon, sweating buckets on Drunken Universe Steps, veins bulging on his forehead.
“Truly Chang Jon! Who knew Baek Rang Spear was so flashy! Spear art's pinnacle!”
Not Baek Rang Spear, but Wolf Fang Flying Strike Spear.
And flashy my ass—Chang Jon, grinding his teeth on heavy thrusts.
Both absolute masters shared the sentiment.
Entertainment for these fools!
End it quick, then deal with them!
But their skills? Dead even.
No edge; the fierce deadlock dragged on.
As time passed, the fervent cheers faded.
And eventually.
Why so long?
This ending today?
Boredom set in.
More time, outright tedium.
“Yawn.”
Jeong Gwang, yawning tears, grabbed Baek Seung-mu.
“Let's go.”
“Senior brother. Leaving a dragon-tiger clash?”
Jeong Gwang was baffled.
Dragon-tiger? Beggar and brute.
But look at this guy.
Bluffing to my face?
“Junior brother. See anything?”
“...Not really.”
“Then?”
“...Feels like a good memory...”
Memory?
Me-mor-yyy?
Brat still wet behind the ears talking memories!
Jeong Gwang yanked Baek Seung-mu's ear, dragging him off.
“Aack! S-Senior brother! My ear!”
“Follow right. Won't hurt.”
“Ah! Got it.”
Jeong Gwang hauled him to Kunlun's rear garden.
“Ignore nonsense. Train.”
“...Yes.”
“Look at that face. Don't wanna get strong?”
“No!”
“Then start.”
“Yes!”
Baek Seung-mu closed his eyes, calming his mind.
Clash of weapons, bluffing cheers faded.
Good.
Eyes open, he unleashed sword forms.
Kunlun's entry-level sword art.
Not flashy, but concise, tight forms flowed from his blade.
Jeong Gwang nodded.
Master Heo Cheong's constant nagging had improved him.
Very, very slightly.
This pace? No end in sight.
He knew Baek Seung-mu cut sleep for training.
Admirable, compensating talent with effort.
But then everyone's a master. Time to teach that.
Essential for the untalented to rise.
Hoped he'd figure it himself, but Baek Seung-mu wasn't the type.
If he can't even after I tell him, oh well.
Baek Seung-mu finished Lesser Pure Sword, sheathed, and asked.
“Senior brother. How was it?”
“Passable.”
“Ah! Thanks for the praise!”
“Why so unambitious? Should beam at ‘excellent’.”
“You're not the praising type.”
True.
That's beside the point.
Jeong Gwang turned serious.
“Really wanna get strong?”
“Of course!”
“Need three things.”
“...Work hard, do well, get lucky?”
“Huh? How'd you know?”
“Heard from other seniors. Kunlun legend, they said.”
“What legend? Anyway, you're lucky, right?”
“...Amitabha. Yes.”
“But that's not enough for you. Talent's too low.”
“Kuh.”
“Don't take it hard. Add one more.”
Baek Seung-mu's pained face bloomed.
“What? Please tell me!”
“Doing it now. But can't guarantee. Depends on you.”
“Naturally. How?”
Jeong Gwang thumped his chest.
“This. This.”
“...?”
“On your chest.”
“...Meaning...?”
“Don't know chest?”
Pondering, Baek Seung-mu ventured insecurely.
“...The hero's spirit?”
“Don't get sappy.”
“S-Sorry. Then... See the world with broad mind? No, you're not that type.”
“Kinda, but feels off?”
“M-Must be your imagination.”
“Wanna feel bad too?”
Baek Seung-mu flattened.
“No! What does it mean? Please!”
“Get drunk.”
“...Pardon?”
“On yourself.”
“...Pardooon?”
Jeong Gwang shook his head in frustration.
“Stand.”
Baek Seung-mu rose, baffled; Jeong Gwang poked his chest.
“Your bottom's here.”
“...”
“Always ask ‘How was it?’ after forms.”
“...Isn't that normal?”
“Scared face, like fearing scolding. Ask bold.”
“...Boldly?”
“Yeah. Wasn't perfect? Next. Like this.”
Baek Seung-mu's jaw dropped.
“H-How?”
“Can't? At least ‘I did great, right? Best, yeah?’ Try.”
“I lack the skill...”
Jeong Gwang's gaze heavy.
“Junior brother. Better than yesterday?”
“S-Seems so.”
“Tomorrow?”
“A bit more.”
Jeong Gwang clapped.
“Amp that up. Confidence. On critiques: ‘Oh? Your turn? Got some for you too!’ Dive in.”
“Confidence...”
“Makes it fun, builds achievement. Grows fast. Force it if needed.”
“...I'll do it.”
Jeong Gwang wagged a finger at Baek Seung-mu's fist.
“From now. Proclaim to the world—like a declaration of departure.”
“...?”
“Repeat after me. ‘I am the Second Under Heaven, Baek Seung-mu!’ C'mon. Why that face?”
“...You're First Under Heaven?”
“Anyone else?”
“...Sorry for the nonsense.”
“Do it. Hurry. Can't? I quit.”
Baek Seung-mu screamed inwardly.
You can say that 'cause you're you!
Then Jeong Gwang smirked.
“Don't believe? Fine.”
“...!”
Baek Seung-mu snapped alert.
Senior brother's no bullshitter... Wait, he loves scams, assaults, threats, extortion—but martial arts? Reliable.
All his gains: thanks to Jeong Gwang.
Doubt him? Can't progress!
Baek Seung-mu steeled himself.
Embarrassment's fleeting. I'll grow stronger!
But.
Mouth wouldn't move.
“Later then.”
Baek Seung-mu desperately shouted.
“I am the Second Under Heaven, Baek Seung-mu!”
“Good. Next: ‘I am the Golden Rights Sword Demon Baek Seung-mu.’”
“I am the Golden Rights Sword De—Demon?”
“Oops. ‘Golden Rights Sword Hero Baek Seung-mu.’”
Golden Rights Sword Hero!
First two characters irked, but last two thrilled his heart.
The thrill climbed his throat, booming to the world.
“I am the Golden Rights Sword Hero Baek Seung-mu!”
“See? Works. Feel?”
Baek Seung-mu touched his chest.
Heart pounding—pure thrill.
“...Better than expected.”
“Keep that attitude.”
“...Yes! Senior brother!”
Baek Seung-mu felt great.
Body tingling—like he could do anything.
But.
Murmurs rose.
“Second Under Heaven Baek Seung-mu?”
“Golden Rights Sword Hero? First time hearing.”
Baek Seung-mu's fire chilled.
...No way?
Turning slowly: faces atop the walls.
Geol Jon and Chang Jon, fight halted by his absurd roar.
And hordes of spectators.