Han Ji-ryong's Rolling Ambush
Thanks to Han Ji-ryong's Naryeo Tagun, Huashanpa took control of the sparring match's flow. No matter how flashy Zhongnanpa's techniques or how impressive their skills, the atmosphere in the arena was dominated by the sentiment that "you just can't beat a sect that pulls off Naryeo Tagun."
It was truly regrettable for Zhongnanpa, but the wall of a perfect artistic score of 10 was sky-high. After all, while other martial artists could show off their techniques, a Naryeo Tagun that flowed as naturally as water was a rare sight anywhere. "Roll unnaturally, and you'll just get booed." Even in modern times, botched Hollywood action scenes draw jeers instead of applause. Naryeo Tagun was much the same. If you weren't confident in pulling it off artistically and naturally, you shouldn't even attempt it.
"The winner of this round is Zhongnanpa's Young Hero Nam Yeong!"
Oh.
In that sense, Zhongnanpa's tenacity in breaking Huashanpa's three consecutive wins and claiming victory was impressive. Since Han Ji-ryong had used Naryeo Tagun in the first round to secure his win, they'd only conceded two more victories after that—yielding just to the artistic score of Naryeo Tagun. That put the score at 1 point for Zhongnanpa and 3 for Huashanpa, with 7 rounds left. No one could claim an edge yet, and the crowd's excitement only grew hotter.
"Purely in terms of skill, Zhongnanpa holds a slight advantage."
"Didn't Zhongnanpa inherit much of the Jeonjin Church's legacy? They can't help but be more stable and superior compared to Huashanpa, which is pioneering new paths."
On the other hand, the court officials familiar with the murim rated Zhongnanpa higher for snatching that single point. Han Ji-ryong resorting to Naryeo Tagun in the first round meant he'd been getting his ass handed to him, in plain terms. And in the second and third rounds, Huashanpa had overwhelmed with momentum rather than pure skill. In truth, across the four matches so far, Zhongnanpa had shown the superior prowess overall. It was just poignant that they only had 1 point to show for it.
"The young heroes for the next round, please step into the arena!"
At the call, warriors from both Zhongnanpa and Huashanpa huddled with determined expressions. Zhongnanpa would want to ride their hard-earned point into a two-win streak, while Huashanpa aimed to reclaim dominance. The fifth round would likely feature disciples in the upper echelons of first-rate.
I wonder who'll take this one.
For the match's hype, Zhongnanpa winning the fifth would be ideal. That way, the crowd would see a tight back-and-forth.
Fifth round: Zhongnanpa victory.
Sixth round: Huashanpa victory.
Seventh round: Huashanpa victory.
Eighth round: Zhongnanpa victory.
"The winner of the ninth round is Zhongnanpa's Young Hero Joo Gi-ryeong!"
Tch.
And with the ninth going to Zhongnanpa, they'd closed the gap right back to our heels after we'd barely pulled ahead. Persistent bastards. Starting with a three-game losing streak, and now they'd narrowed it to a one-point difference.
"I'm sorry, Eldest Senior Brother..."
The junior brother trudged down from the arena, head bowed in shame.
"Chin up. There's a saying that victory and defeat are both soldiers' affairs. Regret the loss, but don't lose your spirit."
I patted his shoulder consolingly. Of course, winning beat losing any day. But as martial artists, expecting constant victory was arrogant, wasn't it? Especially against our sworn rivals of Zhongnanpa—not some run-of-the-mill sect. In a contest with Zhongnanpa, we had to win even the small things, yet losing to them was understandable too. If they were easy prey, we wouldn't call them rivals in the first place.
"You gave it your all. Even if others don't see it, we do."
"E-Eldest Senior Brother...!"
Guilt weighing heavy, his eyes welled up at the successive reassurances. The big, burly guy had a soft heart underneath. That tender, kind nature was his strength, though.
At least we avoided an early decision.
Anyway, after telling him to rest easy, I eyed Zhongnanpa's festive camp, deep in thought. Truth be told, I'd worried the match might end before the eleventh round. I'd kept a confident face for the juniors, but as the one leading this sparring exhibition, I couldn't get lost in ideals and ignore reality.
Frankly, comparing our forces, Huashanpa was slightly at a disadvantage. Our sect leader and elders matched Zhongnanpa's, but us disciples at first-rate and below were just a hair behind. That's why Han Ji-ryong's Naryeo Tagun in the first round had me cheering wildly. Without it, we wouldn't have snagged those crucial early three wins.
Two rounds left now.
Thanks to Naryeo Tagun, Huashan led by one point. A win in the tenth would end it outright, regardless of the eleventh. But sadly, those odds were slim. Min Seol, our tenth-round fighter, wasn't weak, but her opponent Ha Ya-pil was knocking on peak realm's door. Barring a miracle, the tenth would go to him.
I'd love to jump in myself.
A petty urge flickered, then I shook it off. Ha Ya-pil outmatched Min Seol Junior Sister but fell short of me. If I took the tenth and beat him, we'd hit six points and clinch. But I didn't want victory that badly. Not with Zhongnanpa's Baek Gyeon waiting.
He'd mock me for dodging.
In Seomseo, Huashanpa's eldest disciple me and Zhongnanpa's eldest Baek Gyeon vied for the top late-generation talent spot—future sect leaders and rivals. Me skipping our showdown? I'd sooner bite my tongue and drown in the Yellow River.
Damn him.
Our eyes met as he glanced over, and he smirked. A taunt daring me to run and steal the win. It pissed me off more.
I'll smash you flat.
So I vowed. Victory and defeat be damned—I'd beat that bastard for sure. On the name of Huashanpa's eldest disciple, Yu Jin-ha.
The matches unfolded with scripted intensity. Huashan would edge ahead, Zhongnanpa would catch up; we'd pull away, they'd chase again. By the tenth, it was dead even at 5-5.
Tenacious pricks.
Astonishing. Even match-fixing wouldn't draw flak for being this dramatic, yet their gritted-teeth efforts produced it naturally.
Ten fighters would've been chaos.
I had to applaud the sect leaders' wisdom. With ten instead of eleven, it might've ended prematurely—leaving crowds deflated and our sects' grudges festering unresolved.
"The final tenth—no, eleventh round! A spar between Zhongnanpa's Young Hero Baek Gyeon and Huashanpa's Young Hero Yu Jin-ha!"
And most fortunately, the match reached its peak, not its nadir. Zhongnanpa's Baek Gyeon and Huashanpa's Yu Jin-ha—the renowned late-generation talents of Seomseo, no, the entire Central Plains—would cap it off.
"Young Hero Baek! Show the might of Zhongnanpa to all under heaven!"
"Young Hero Yu Jin-ha's plum blossoms never yield!"
The crowd erupted in wild cheers and roars, thrilled by the clash of these two. In an era starved for entertainment, with no celebrities or sports stars, famous martial artists were the idols. Officially recognized gongsin-affiliated ones, that is. Vagabond bandits got no love from the masses.
"You two young heroes must fight fair and square before Nang-jung Wang and all the realm's people, leaving no regrets. Any who wish to withdraw now?"
"None."
"We'll fight to the end."
"Very well. Having pledged to prove your resolve with the sword, Nang-jung Wang will vouch for the outcome."
After the ritual exchange, the officiating official swiftly exited the arena.
"Haaah!"
"Huaaah!"
Battle cries echoed as they drew deep from their danjeon. One would collapse in the arena, the other crawl down on all fours—I could glimpse that future.
Baek Gyeon and Yu Jin-ha: late-generation hopes carrying their sects' futures. The crowd anticipated Zhongnanpa's signature Thirty-Six Heavenly Swords and Huashanpa's Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Forms.
And like the celebrities they were, the pair obliged right from the start, unleashing signature kills.
"Behold that Mount Tai-like solidity! A technique worthy of the 'heavenly' name!"
"And Young Hero Yu Jin-ha! Huashanpa's top late-genius indeed! Can't you smell that faint plum blossom scent?"
We watched their duel amid cheers blurring hype-men from genuine awe. As a first-rate myself, I could tell: they were all-in, no holds barred. If I cough blood taking you down, it's still my win. That resolve fueled them.
"Rare young talents. Yes, a true martial artist stakes everything to crush their foe."
Nang-jung Wang nodded approvingly at the frenzied bout. Old-timers forged in chaos were extreme like that—delighted instead of worried.
I won't age like that.
Vowing so, I quietly observed their exchanges.
"Ah. It's over."
"When realms match, heaviness beats speed, huh."
Yu Jin-ha's blade snapped blocking Baek Gyeon's heavy sword. After brutal, drawn-out clashes, the decisive break. Zhongnanpa grinned; Huashanpa sighed bitterly.
A swordsman sans sword had no hope...
"What."
"No way, what the hell!"
Wait...?
This is insane.
Everyone, me included, gaped at the absurdity. Swordless Yu Jin-ha tossed his broken blade without hesitation and smashed a fist into Baek Gyeon's face.
"Think I only learned the sword, you blind Zhongnan bastard?!"
"Th-this shames all swordsmen!"
From swordsman to bare-knuckle brawler in a blink. Even fellow Huashanpa stared slack-jawed as he unleashed Plum Blossom Fist Forms instead.
"...Fine! If that's how you play, I'll join in!"
Ah.
Baek Gyeon ditched his sword too.