Chapter 86
Chapter 86
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 86
Chapter Title: What Was the Name Again... (4)
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Neung Pung-yeon glared at the red pill nestled in the palm-sized wooden box.
"S-Senior Brother, actually..."
It was the day before his showdown with that insufferable punk Kang Yun, and this had tumbled from the chest of his junior brother after he collided with a passerby on the street market.
For a brief moment, he'd bellowed in outrage—how could a martial artist of the Jianghu stumble into a mere pedestrian like that? But then this suspicious item fell from his junior brother's robes.
The junior brother claimed it was something he'd received from a rogue Kunlun Sect disciple and begged him to keep it secret, but Neung Pung-yeon had confiscated it for now.
It sounded plausible enough, but matters like this were best reported to the sect's investigators before taking any action.
'But it does seem like the real deal...'
He had no real knowledge of medicines, but the faint herbal aroma wafting from this pill gave off a vibe similar to the Jaso Dan he'd once taken himself.
If he swallowed something like this—an elixir that granted immense inner energy to the consumer...
Click.
Neung Pung-yeon shook off the thought and snapped the box shut. Coveting something his junior brother had received? Absolutely not.
Win tomorrow's match, and the honor of being the top latecomer disciple awaited him.
'That damn mud monkey...!'
The image of that nobody—whose forms and inner power were nothing special—strutting around so arrogantly made his stomach churn.
A guy who wasn't even from one of the Nine Great Sects or Five Great Families.
Not to mention, he hadn't even inherited his father Go Cheon's martial arts, yet he dared challenge him, a promising direct disciple of Huashan Sect?
"Regardless of your mother, I'll crush you flat...!"
Neung Pung-yeon steeled himself to show exactly why the Nine Great Sects were the Nine Great Sects—to demonstrate the profound depths of their arts.
With only eight contestants left, just one arena remained.
Today's matches numbered only four. No need to keep four arenas running anymore.
Instead, even more spectators had gathered—especially the renowned elders of the Jianghu.
Out of the eight remaining fighters, six were Nine Dragons. Up until now, the bouts had been mixed with mediocrity, but this was finally the real deal.
"Those insolent words you spat at me—you'll regret them. Prepare yourself."
"I don't think there'll be any regrets, but if you can make it happen, be my guest."
As cheers poured from the crowd, Kang Yun and Neung Pung-yeon faced off for the first match, exchanging words.
They revealed their signature techniques to each other, warily observing their opponent's movements.
Step by step, they shifted positions, circling the arena without ever breaking eye contact.
The standoff ended first on Neung Pung-yeon's part.
His sword unleashed streams of Plum Blossom Sword Qi, slicing diagonally through the air as it lunged forward.
Kang Yun moved to dodge but switched tactics mid-motion, countering with a blast of palm force. Sure enough, the attempt to dominate the space with Plum Blossom Sword Qi shattered against Heavenly Yang Palm.
The Heavenly Yang Palm scattered like a breeze upon clashing with the sword Qi, only for twelve strands to burst forth in a brilliant explosion, cleaving through it.
Some of the sword Qi crumbled in his palm force-laden hand, but others still targeted his vital acupoints.
Kang Yun evaded the creeping sword Qi with Iron Plate Bridge technique amid a chilling whoosh, then used a leg sweep to parry the downward sword strike while supporting his body with his arm.
Clang!
The sound of metal clashing rang out as flesh met steel, the sword trembling violently as it recoiled.
"Urk...!"
Seizing the moment Neung Pung-yeon staggered back with a groan, Kang Yun's hand unleashed Finger Wind and palm force in unison.
The dual assault of rigid palm force and insidious Finger Wind threw Neung Pung-yeon off-balance momentarily, but he quickly regained his composure and unleashed the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Forms in sequence.
Finger Wind was repelled form by form with Plum Blossom Has Blades, while the palm force lost momentum, seeping harmlessly along the blade's edge with Plum Blossom Linked Shadows.
The fierce exchange between them paused briefly amid the crowd's cheers, and Neung Pung-yeon muttered.
"You've been hiding your skill."
"Didn't Mae So-hyang warn you?"
Neung Pung-yeon's face flushed beet red at the words, raising his lowered sword toward Kang Yun.
Mae So-hyang had indeed cautioned him multiple times not to underestimate the guy. The fact that he'd anticipated it...
"You were toying with me. No more mercy."
"Looks like your good times are over."
The pair, who had briefly kept their distance, clashed once more. But Neung Pung-yeon began to gradually fall back.
'This bastard... his inner energy, what the hell...!'
Neung Pung-yeon had received the Bee Tail Whisker punishment from his master in his earliest memories and never once slacked on his meditation, not even for a day.
With the Jaso Dan's effects fully absorbed under his master's guidance, no peer his age should match his inner power.
Where the hell had a monster like this crawled out from?
"Did you cultivate some demonic art or something? Impossible...!"
"My inner energy is from a proper orthodox sect... but that's one hell of a demonic art you've got."
His sarcastic retort only fueled Neung Pung-yeon's rage, but he had no comeback.
Sensing he'd lose to exhaustion at this rate, Neung Pung-yeon resolved to end it quickly and unleashed his ultimate techniques in rapid succession.
Meanwhile, Kang Yun slipped away from the onslaught like a loach, his attacks either missing from apparent fatigue or merely pounding the floor and shattering stone tiles.
'Yeah, you're getting tired too! Just trip once, just once...!'
Stumble.
The moment Kang Yun's elegantly flowing footwork faltered, his leg scraping the ground and throwing off his balance, Neung Pung-yeon sensed his chance.
As Neung Pung-yeon's sword thrust like lightning in the Plum Blossom Single Thrust form, a few spectators screamed.
A botched block in his unbalanced state could prove fatal.
But the so-called experts in the crowd just clicked their tongues.
'Too hasty.'
A thrust was normally powerful and swift, but if the opponent anticipated or baited it, it became the worst possible move.
Invisible to Neung Pung-yeon, Kang Yun had been preparing his counter the instant his posture "collapsed."
And sure enough, the sword plunging toward the half-fallen Kang Yun was suddenly seized by an outstretched hand and yanked forcefully.
The blade's tip plunged into the arena floor where the stone tiles had shattered, exposing the wooden frame beneath.
Crunch!
Pulling free from the wood's fibers wasn't easy, even for a master, and Neung Pung-yeon paid the price for his impatience.
Crack!
A fist packed with controlled force—enough to avoid caving in his skull—slammed into Neung Pung-yeon's jaw, robbing him of consciousness.
'You little shit...!'
The last sight before Neung Pung-yeon blacked out was Kang Yun's infuriating smirk.
Whew, kid. Tougher than I thought. Way stronger than Yo Jeong-rib, that's for sure.
I'd planned to let him underestimate me, get cocky, then smash him to drop him from the Nine Dragons, but even off-guard, his reactions were sharp. Gave me a real workout.
If the elders have any eye for talent, they'll know quick he's no total scrub.
Here's hoping three of the other six losers put up a good show. Please let this guy drop out of the Nine Dragons.
"Rule violation!"
What the hell.
I turned to see Mae So-hyang erupting in fury, screaming her head off.
"Care to explain properly, Mae So-hyang?"
Oh, Dad.
My dad, whose attendance had been spotty so far, was reliably present now that we'd hit the quarterfinals.
"This concerns my son's honor directly. Without clear evidence..."
Dad, who'd been using me like a calculator these past few days, looked different somehow.
"I cannot stand by idly."
"The Nine Dragons Contest rules clearly state you must declare all means to be used against your opponent! Using the arena counts as a violation!"
Hm, not entirely baseless.
I had said I'd fight with my own body—no mention of using the arena. But ultimately, bullshit.
As some elders murmured in confusion, Mom spoke up.
"Mae So-hyang, then from the next Nine Dragons Contest onward, we should only allow entrants who've mastered Lightweight Skill to participate."
"What?"
Mom's tone dripped with obvious sarcasm.
"Everyone's dueling on the arena stage. How do you fight without arena assistance if you can't use Lightweight Skill?"
"..."
"And aren't fist fighters who plant their feet and unleash punches borrowing the arena's power?"
"Th-that's different! Directly using the arena to strike your opponent is..."
Mae So-hyang paled and clamped her mouth shut. Mom smiled coolly, finishing her vague protest for her.
"Then anyone who's slammed their opponent into the arena breaks the rules. Shall we check how many have done so far?"
Mom spoke triumphantly, leaving Mae So-hyang no choice but to apologize for her slip.
Mae So-hyang probably knew she was grasping at straws.
She'd assumed her son would win easily, and when that fell apart, she had to say something.
As the spectators' whispers dragged on, Mae So-hyang leaped down to the arena and followed the medics carrying off her son to the infirmary.
Think I succeeded in humiliating them properly?
Whether it was securing my Nine Dragons spot or screwing over Mae So-hyang and her kid, an inexplicable smile lit up my parents' faces.
The third round ended. Survivors: me, Peng Wol of the Peng Family, Gyeon Yong-jin of Wudang Sect, and Gwak Do-heung of Jeomchang.
Real talk, me and Gwak Do-heung were like bonus stage fodder. The real finals would be Peng Wol vs. Gyeon Yong-jin.
But that's neither here nor there.
"Alright, let's go grab a drink!"
No, you bastard! I gotta get home!
Peng Wol—the outgoing drunk type—tried dragging the other three of us out for booze, causing a scene.
Unlike the four losers, we four had Nine Dragons locked in, so this was about building camaraderie, apparently.
"Let's drop the formal titles while we're at it—nice and casual! What do you say, Brother Kang? Yeah?"
Not a drop of alcohol in him, yet Peng Wol's shift was drastic.
"Titles are fine, but Brother Peng, I have plans with my parents tonight..."
"Whoa there, a true man celebrating victory with his parents? No way, no how! A hero's gotta act the part... Urk!"
Peng Wol groaned and released my shoulder. Gyeon Yong-jin had twisted his arm behind his back.
"Wild Boar, is meddling in family matters your idea of manners?"
"Hey, what's eating you, Lord Crane? Just us guys, right? Come on, one drink, nice and bold!"
"People have etiquette for a reason. Go on, Young Master Kang. Hang with this idiot, and you'll just end up with a hangover."
Unlike the polished reps of the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Families, these two seemed genuinely close.
I'd heard sect and family kids usually didn't get along, but interesting.
Wild Boar and Crane. Fitting nicknames for the burly Peng Wol and lanky-limbed Gyeon Yong-jin.
"I'll make time in the next few days. Join us then, Hero Gyeon."
They gave me weird looks. Peng Wol scratched his head and spoke.
"You? You'll have lost to me by then and still wanna drink? That cool?"
Ah, so that's why he's buddying up today? Butter me up before crushing me?
"If I lose, it's 'cause I'm not good enough. No grudges here—don't worry."
"Great, great! It's a date!"
Peng Wol slapped his thigh in delight at my words.
Tomorrow was out—nobody drinks the night before a match, obvious outcome or not.
With things settled, I bid the trio farewell and raced back to the lodgings where my parents waited.
Finally, the day of the plan had arrived.