Chapter 165
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 165
Chapter Title: Finals Bracket Complete
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The Dragon-Phoenix Tournament finals bracket was now set.
Those drawn against powerhouses wore dark expressions, while those who pulled relatively weaker opponents beamed with bright faces.
Regardless, the later-generation disciples accepted their fates and steeled their resolve.
‘I’ll win no matter what!’
Sima Won spoke up.
“With the finals bracket now complete, some of you may feel disappointed, others satisfied—but what’s done is done. I hope you all give it your all.”
“Yes, Branch Leader!”
“Hahaha! Then we’ll see you all in two days for the finals!”
Once the later-generation disciples dispersed and filed out, one person remained alone in the arena.
It was Mun I-cheon.
‘Ugh...’
Unlike the scattered preliminary matches, the finals would all take place on a single arena stage, under the focused gaze of the crowd.
‘Can I really do this?’
He’d gotten lucky in the preliminaries.
His first opponent had tried talking first, stirring his anger and unknowingly loosening his nerves, allowing him to perform at his peak.
But this time, his very first match in the first round pitted him against Dong Cheon-uk, a later-generation disciple from the Kongtong Sect.
‘And he’s a disciple of one of the Nine Great Sects... Can I beat him with my sect’s techniques?’
Mun I-cheon might lack experience, but he had a rough idea of how the martial world worked.
Even if he didn’t know much about the unorthodox sects, the orthodox ones had the Nine Great Sects and Eight Great Families holding firm ground—a fact backed by centuries of martial history.
The bold Mun I-cheon who’d spoken so brashly before Seol Hwa-un was gone.
Faced with the grand stage of the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament finals, he felt infinitesimally small.
‘Ugh...’
“What are you doing here?”
“...?!”
Mun I-cheon flinched and looked up to see Seol Hwa-un standing there.
“North Heaven Dragon! Ah, no, Referee!”
Seol Hwa-un chuckled softly.
“Just call me Branch Leader Seol.”
“Ah, got it.”
When the bracket was drawn, Seol Hwa-un had watched Mun I-cheon closely, alongside Jin Pyo.
It wasn’t hard to guess his thoughts from his expression.
‘He really gets under my skin.’
Even Seol Hwa-un was helpless against it. Every time he saw Mun I-cheon, Mun Jeong-ho came to mind.
Seol Hwa-un spoke again.
“I asked why you’re lingering here instead of heading back to your lodgings.”
“...It’s nothing.”
“Really?”
“...”
When Mun I-cheon stiffened and couldn’t respond, Seol Hwa-un chuckled.
“Guess the young hero who begged me for spars until I got sick of it was someone else.”
Mun I-cheon turned his head slightly.
“...Sorry about that. I was only thinking of myself...”
Seol Hwa-un shook his head.
“No need to apologize—it wasn’t something to be sorry for. Looks like you’re scared of the finals, though?”
Mun I-cheon bristled.
“W-Who said I’m scared?!”
“Then why do you look so down?”
“...”
Seol Hwa-un waited patiently. Finally, Mun I-cheon spoke.
“I got lucky and somehow made it to the finals... but honestly, I’m afraid I’ll just drag my sect’s name through the mud by stepping up like this.”
Seol Hwa-un burst into laughter.
“Hahaha! Was the Swordless Sect that grand a faction? Does it even have a name worth tarnishing?”
“That’s...!”
Seol Hwa-un spoke calmly.
“Just making it to the finals is already tremendous honor for the Swordless Sect, young hero.”
“...!”
“Even among the Nine Great Sects and Eight Great Families, plenty failed to advance a later-generation disciple. What’s there to worry about?”
His words rang so true that Mun I-cheon had no retort.
“And you say you got here by luck? Who told you that?”
Seol Hwa-un’s gaze grew more serious.
“Let me be clear: no one punches through the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament preliminaries on luck alone. It was your skill that made it possible.”
Mun I-cheon replied.
“But isn’t this where the real test begins? Against someone from a prestigious orthodox sect, with full backing...”
Seol Hwa-un smiled faintly.
“There was someone like you once—a nobody from an unknown sect. He stirred up a storm in that year’s Dragon-Phoenix Tournament.”
“...”
“He had rough edges, but he honed himself through battles, grew dazzlingly, and eventually claimed the championship.”
“Who was he?”
Ignoring the question, Seol Hwa-un continued.
“In the end, he rose to become the Martial Alliance’s second-in-command. He could’ve even become Alliance Leader, but stepped aside himself.”
As he listened, Mun I-cheon felt like he’d heard this story before.
‘No way?’
“Anyway, to give you my honest take: you’ve got talent on par with that guy back then.”
“Me?”
Seol Hwa-un nodded.
“That’s right. So have some confidence. You might not see it now, but grow through these matches... and winning it all isn’t impossible.”
Those words sent massive ripples through Mun I-cheon’s heart.
‘Me... win the whole thing?’
Seeing his expression change, Seol Hwa-un smiled in satisfaction.
‘Good, he gets it.’
That was the end of the advice. The rest was up to Mun I-cheon.
Turning, he saw Mun I-cheon clasping his fists in a formal salute.
“Thank you for the advice. And for that previous spar—truly grateful. I won’t forget this favor.”
“...”
For a moment, Seol Hwa-un felt like Mun I-cheon overlapped with Mun Jeong-ho.
‘This kid...’
And so, Seol Hwa-un stared at him for a long while.
* * *
The six preliminary arenas in the plaza had all been dismantled.
In their place stood a single arena twice as large, surrounded by countless spectator seats.
And so came the day of the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament finals.
With eight first-round matches scheduled for the opening day, it began far earlier than the preliminaries—at sashi hour (9-11 a.m.).
With sashi approaching, the stands were already packed.
“Living in Xi’an for twenty years, I’ve never missed a Dragon-Phoenix Tournament. And yet, it still gets me excited every time.”
“Same here. Seats cost a pretty penny, but for spectacle, nothing beats it.”
“My eyes are too dim to read the bracket clearly. Who’s in the first match?”
“Let’s see... Kongtong Sect’s Dong Cheon-uk versus Swordless Sect’s Mun I-cheon?”
“Swordless Sect, huh. Oh, that no-name sect from the roster. Where even is it?”
“No idea. Rumor has it he’s the youngest entrant.”
“Huh! And he made finals? Shame. If he were from a Nine Great Sect or Eight Great Family, he’d be a big deal.”
“Tell me about it. Even if he loses in the first round, showing his skills might catch some sect’s eye and get poached.”
“True enough. With that talent, better to jump ship now.”
Mun I-cheon himself was unaware, but many sects were already watching him closely.
Contact with competitors was forbidden during the tournament, so no one approached—but among the major sects, he was already a hot topic.
As noon approached, Sima Won finally ascended the arena.
A massive cheer erupted around him.
“Waaaaah!”
“It’s the Branch Leader!”
The roar was more for the thrill of the finals finally starting than for Sima Won himself.
Infusing his voice with inner energy, Sima Won shouted.
“You’ve all waited so long! The Dragon-Phoenix Tournament finals begin now!”
“Waaaaah!”
As the cheers died down, Sima Won continued.
“As you all know, from the finals onward, just surviving the first round earns you a prize and the Dragon-Phoenix title. You can also join the Martial Alliance as a high-grade warrior if you wish.”
For those not from prestigious orthodox sects, enlisting in the Martial Alliance wasn’t a bad option.
And for titled Dragon-Phoenix disciples from such sects, it offered a huge leg up for promotions.
“The prize for this year’s Dragon-Phoenix Tournament champion is none other than a Millennium He Shou Wu!”
“...!”
He opened a wooden box held by a nearby warrior, revealing the herb—leaves and all—vibrantly alive.
“Ooooh!”
Thick for a millennium specimen, it looked more like two thousand years old.
The pinnacle among He Shou Wu was, of course, the Ten-Thousand-Year variety.
But even a Millennium He Shou Wu brimmed with vital energy, granting martial artists substantial inner energy gains upon consumption.
The crowd buzzed in shock.
“A Millennium He Shou Wu? This tournament’s on another level.”
“Yeah. Last time it was a famed sword, right?”
“Yup. But a non-swordsman won, so it lost some shine.”
“Hmm, the champion...”
At that moment, Sima Won pressed on.
“Since the finals matches are so crucial and fierce, we’ve assembled a special referee panel.”
He gestured to the raised dais nearby.
“Refereeing the finals are Kunlun Sect’s Wind Formation True Person, Justice Heaven Alliance Elder Mo Yong-yang the Great Hero, and North Heaven Branch Leader, the North Heaven Dragon!”
The three rose in unison, offering formal fist salutes.
“Waaaaah!”
“North Heaven Dragon as referee?”
“But at his age, shouldn’t he be competing?”
“Come on, think! Who could stand against him among the later-gen?”
“Fair point... North Heaven Dragon’s beyond that category.”
“Still, isn’t refereeing overkill?”
“It’s for fairness. One from Justice Heaven Alliance, one from Martial Alliance—neutral enough.”
Some murmured skepticism, but most cheered wildly for Seol Hwa-un.
“Looking sharp, North Heaven Dragon!”
“He’s the true great hero! Unlike those orthodox experts who tuck tail at the sight of the Four Evils.”
“They preach righteousness but play it so safe.”
The hardliners despised the orthodox sects for letting unorthodox powerhouses roam free.
That’s why Seol Hwa-un—who’d taken down two of the Four Evils—drew such attention.
The referees took seats at the front of the VIP stands near the arena.
“Now, let the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament finals first round officially begin!”
With that, Sima Won stepped down, and soon two later-generation disciples climbed up.
Mun I-cheon and Dong Cheon-uk.
“...”
The two facing off were a study in contrasts.
Mun I-cheon was short, while Dong Cheon-uk towered over six feet.
Their weapons differed too: a wooden sword for Mun I-cheon, a massive cleaver for Dong Cheon-uk.
The Kongtong Sect was renowned not just for swordsmanship but saber arts as well—and Dong Cheon-uk had chosen the latter.
The crowd reacted similarly.
“The gap’s too wide.”
“How’d that scrawny kid pass the prelims?”
“Must’ve had insane luck.”
“Nah, come on.”
“We’ll see. If it was luck, he drops here.”
Mun I-cheon saluted first.
“I am Mun I-cheon of the Swordless Sect.”
“Disciple of Kongtong Sect, Dong Cheon-uk.”
They drew their weapons and assumed starting stances.
Seol Hwa-un watched Mun I-cheon intently.
‘Good thing he’s shaken off the pressure.’
No signs of tension or intimidation.
“Begin!”
At the signal, Mun I-cheon’s form shot forward.
Flash!
‘Ho!’
Even Seol Hwa-un was impressed by the speed.
‘His footwork improved even more in that short time.’
Mun I-cheon’s growth was nothing short of miraculous. Closing the distance in an instant, he swung his wooden sword with full force.
Screeeee!