Hey, Just Spar Already - 1
The arguments between the two sects grew fiercer by the day, Pojeongsa's face grew paler by the hour, and Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i turned whiter and whiter.
What the hell.
The sudden color change threw me for a loop. Why are you guys turning white? Sure, even when I first saw them at Hengshan, they had a strangely pale hue compared to regular deer, but at a glance, they looked no different from ordinary brown ones. They weren't this white from afar.
But after we returned from Baek Gi's tomb, day by day—one, two, three—their fur started whitening bit by bit, until now their entire bodies gleamed pure white.
"What the heck did you two eat?"
- Kki-iing.
- Kki-oong.
As I scratched their chins and asked, the pair just let out calm cries, offering no real answer.
Unfair. These guys understand human speech, but humans can't understand spirit beast talk. Nothing's more frustrating than one-way communication.
Did they really eat some kind of spirit elixir?
Anyway, I stroked their snow-white fur and sorted my thoughts. The change started after we came back from the tomb—more precisely, after they munched on something there. Whatever they scavenged from the ground was definitely the cause.
But since I couldn't identify the "something," even after arriving in Seoan, I kept double-checking the tomb goods inventory. No bite marks on any artifacts? Nothing missing from sets? I considered every possibility.
I even inspected the horse corpse guarding Baek Gi's stele. Since they could eat meat, I worried they might've torn into it. Fortunately, no bites—or even licks.
It's not a bad symptom, at least.
The texture was so addictive I couldn't stop stroking, though it furrowed my brow. Judging solely by appearance might be hasty, but Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i's change looked nothing but positive. Since ancient times, pure white beasts were deemed spirit creatures. Even without an inner core, white was auspicious, earning ordinary animals spirit beast status.
But these already-spirit beasts turning even whiter? While subtly emanating natural qi?
Do spirit beasts evolve too?
Maybe first-tier spirit beasts evolving to second-tier. No hard evidence, but it felt plausible. Thinking about it, these two weren't born normally—they emerged through a somewhat irregular process. Perhaps half-spirit beasts became full ones after ingesting that elixir.
"Not bad at all."
My pets upgrading from knockoffs to the real deal? Satisfying. Fine, let's chalk it up to them eating elixirs and evolving. Easier that way.
"Jwa-cheom Do-eosa, sir."
As I celebrated Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i's evolution by hand-feeding them, Jo Wi-cheo approached.
"Pojeongsa is urgently looking for you."
"He is?"
"Yes. Something pressing about distributing the tomb goods."
The sudden summons didn't faze me. I'd expected it, seeing Pojeongsa's exhaustion.
This can't drag on forever.
The two elders had zero intention of yielding. With two hardliners locked in a head-on clash, no amount of talk would yield results.
So, without them, the official had to propose a solution. No forceful measures possible, but a compromise both sects could stomach.
"He must've barely carved out time, so I'd better hurry."
I returned the feed to the trough and headed off. Pojeongsa was already juggling local admin and spectating the sects' debates. Meeting me separately meant squeezing every last drop of time.
Any delay from me, and he might collapse from overwork.
"Ah, Wi-cheo."
I glanced back mid-stride.
"Yes, sir."
"Feed them if you're free."
Jo Wi-cheo's gaze shifted to the newly evolved Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i.
"I'll take good care of them."
After a brief silence, he nodded calmly and grabbed the trough. He'd grown attached, just like me. Pets he cared for turning snow-white? Natural curiosity.
Not mere speculation—his usually stoic eyes widened briefly. Without my request, he'd have wandered over to play anyway.
He's got a soft spot deep down.
Of course. That's why he stuck with me on this ill-fated nationwide tour. If he were the type to cut ties cleanly, he'd have bolted or quit long ago.
Fortunately, no blood-vomiting collapse from overwork.
"Sorry to call you suddenly, Jwa-cheom Do-eosa."
"Not at all. Thanks to your consideration, I've been resting easy. If you summon me, I come running."
"Haha, grateful even for the words."
Instead, a half-corpse that could drop dead anytime greeted me. Pitiful. Suffering like this because two lunatic roosters nested in his jurisdiction.
Is Seomseo truly the land of death?
"As you know, Zhongnan and Huashan's intentions clash. Left alone, no telling when it'll end."
Missing my sympathetic look, Pojeongsa chuckled shortly, then composed himself seriously.
"So, my personal opinion: rather than pointless debate, why not settle it the martial way?"
"Martial way...?"
"A duel."
Pojeongsa's eyes gleamed with strange madness and resolve—like hurling a duel bomb at his tormentors for chaos.
"Zhongnan and Huashan disciples are Daoists and warriors. They pursue their Dao through martial might for the world and people. So, why not duel to see who's right?"
"That..."
His flashing eyes left me speechless. Truth be told, before arriving in Seomseo, I'd considered a tournament myself. Better for the sects to end endless sniping on an official stage.
Precedent of sects settling via official duel? Others would rely on authority too. If they itched to smash a dog-like rival but balked at no-referee brawl, they'd beg for a tournament under official auspices.
But this...
Pojeongsa reached the same conclusion, via a thorny path. His motive? Screw the sects' authority—pure revenge. Probably itching for survival battle royale, not a proper duel.
"Jwa-cheom Do-eosa?"
"Ah, yes. Overwhelmed by your wisdom, I was momentarily speechless."
But I didn't object. Process and motive aside, the outcome wasn't bad. Propose duel-mediated settlement; sects would comply. Martial pursuers wouldn't dodge a martial challenge, and it'd spread internally: Official had to propose this.
Plus, in this entertainment-scarce era, a Zhongnan-Huashan duel? Local gentry would pay fortunes to watch, recouping Baek Gi tomb costs swiftly.
One hitch: duels create winners and losers, which they might dread...
"Plan to cede part of the official share to the victor."
Big reward makes risk worthwhile. Life's high-risk, high-return, after all.
I pitched the duel-distribution idea to both elders.
"Beyond my authority. I'll consult the sect leader."
"Your wise decision impresses me. The sect leader will surely approve."
Nearly scripted, identical replies. Expected—no shock for us. Pride on the line before Seomseo, nay the world. No mere elder call.
Instant acceptance? I'd suspect daytime drinking.
"They won't refuse, right?"
After they withdrew to consult, I whispered to Pojeongsa. One sect leader balking meant endless mouth-fighting redux. I'd flee to another region, collapse be damned.
"Refuse? Those two? Never."
He laughed off my worry assuredly.
"Back in the founding wars, they served under Giwang and crushed Mongols—fierce as can be. Age mellowed them, but that fire doesn't vanish."
"Really?"
"Hmm. Worry less about refusal—more that they'll declare personal entry."
Chills. If Pojeongsa said it, possible.
"Of course, banning elder-or-higher participation. No need to fret."
Reassured. Sect leaders clashing? Beyond duel—sect survival slugfest.
"Anyway, treat after ages. Zhongnan-Huashan duel? Folk from afar will flock."
"Quite right, sir."
And Seomseo bordered Zhili. Kaepyeong nobles might even rush over.