Chapter 71
Chapter 71
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 71
Chapter Title: Hongmong, Oh Hongmong
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He sensed a foreign energy stirring within his dantian.
A feeling that was him... yet not him.
It was far from unfamiliar.
It was the energy of the Hongmong Great Law, something he had felt plenty of times before.
Han Ibi was utterly flustered.
'Whoa, what the hell? Why is the Hongmong Great Law squirming in a situation like this...'
That was when it happened.
Dong! Dong! Dong-dong!
Drumbeats echoed everywhere, heightening the tension to its peak.
Seo Ui-jae spoke up.
"We now commence the final match of the day: a showdown between second-generation disciples."
He flung his hand out with a flourish.
Once again, bright yellow talismans scattered in all directions on the wind.
Dong-dong-dong-dong-dong!
The drums pounded in a rapid tempo.
- Wooaaah!
A deafening roar, heavy enough to tear at the ears, filled the sacred Taoist ground of Qingcheng Mountain.
For this one moment, no one had time to worry about "nepo baby parachute disciples" or anything of the sort.
The mountain was consumed by festival-like excitement.
Han Ibi's ears were practically ringing.
Suddenly, a sharp voice pierced through the noise.
"Hey. I asked why you came to Qingcheng Mountain. Or... should I call you junior brother now?"
It was Seong Chun-don.
"That's right, senior brother. You did ask."
Han Ibi deliberately emphasized "senior brother," putting extra force into his tongue.
Seong Chun-don grinned and said,
"So, mission accomplished then? Huh? How about sharing some of those secrets?"
"Secrets?"
"Yeah..."
He leaned in close to Han Ibi, adding in a whisper just loud enough for no one else to hear,
"I'm curious how you captured that Bok hag's heart. You didn't go and capture her body too, did you?"
This damn dog bastard...
Han Ibi replied in a low voice.
"Watch your mouth, senior brother. I might spill your secrets in front of everyone."
It was none other than their periodic secret boozing parties.
Seong Chun-don chuckled.
"Oho! Scary stuff. Turns out our junior brother's got some fire in him. But you can't just blab men's private talks like that."
Han Ibi shot back without missing a beat.
"A true gentleman never does anything he wouldn't want others to see."
"Hahaha! What a saintly gentleman you've become. Right... oh, right!"
Seong Chun-don's face suddenly hardened as he shouted. Han Ibi blurted out,
"What's wrong?"
"You don't see it?"
"See what?"
"The way the crowd's watching us."
Hearing that, Han Ibi glanced around.
Seong Chun-don said,
"Two strapping lads chit-chatting... looks like it's rubbing them the wrong way. Alright! Shall we get started?"
Han Ibi tensed up even more but shouted boldly.
Anyone who's read wuxia novels knows protagonists always pull off cool lines like this at least once.
"Fine by me."
Whoosh!
The sound of their wooden swords rising came in unison.
Using the Qingcheng Sect's salute stance, their movements were identical.
Of course... to be precise, it was thanks to his Popularity skill...
- Wooah!
"Cool!"
"Not bad!"
Seong Chun-don was one thing, but no one had imagined Han Ibi's salute would brim with such spirit.
They'd thought the match was decided the moment the swords were raised.
Seong Chun-don raised one eyebrow and said,
"Come at me first, junior brother."
Han Ibi grinned back.
"How could I dare be rude to you, senior brother?"
This was classic pre-fight banter from wuxia novels.
After this, the senior would yield once more, and then he'd attack...
Whoosh!
Gasp. W-what the hell!
How could a wooden sword make a sound like that as it flew in?
Catching Han Ibi off guard with the sudden attack, he startled.
Seong Chun-don wielded the orthodox Pure Wind Sword Technique of the Qingcheng Sect.
It had a somewhat brutal edge to it, though...
Seeing the wooden sword slicing straight for his legs without warning, Han Ibi yelped and leaped back.
Seong Chun-don changed his stance and swung upward again.
Han Ibi had no choice but to twist his body wildly in midair.
Thud!
He dodged the attack, but ended up slamming his butt ugly on the ground.
So Eun-ri, watching, squeezed her eyes shut like she couldn't bear to look.
Seong Chun-don tilted his head oddly and said,
"Hmm... strange. Junior brother, is that a new move? Using your butt? Quite fresh, I must say."
- Hahaha!
- Teeheehee!
The embarrassment of the butt-plant plus Seong Chun-don's joke turned the arena into a sea of laughter.
Then a loud crash rang out.
Bam!
All eyes from the gathered heroes turned that way.
Lee Sin-song, the elder from the guest seats, had stood and slammed his sword hilt into the ground.
"You lot! Dare you insult the Great Qingcheng Sect Leader Tournament? In this sacred place with the sect leader and other guests present!"
Realizing the situation had turned serious, Seong Chun-don was first to apologize with a cupped-fist salute.
"My apologies. I swear to compete with utmost seriousness."
Han Ibi had no choice but to follow suit...
He resisted the urge to rub his sore butt and said,
"This disciple... promises the same."
"Hmph!"
Lee Sin-song flicked his sleeve and sat back down.
As expected, the Qingcheng Sect grounds fell silent in an instant.
Han Ibi's face was tense too.
But not because of Lee Sin-song's scolding, as the crowd might think.
'This is rough... so rough... too rough... aaaah...'
Yes.
The black power writhing in his dantian...
The Hongmong Great Law's energy was churning through his lower abdomen.
Like waves toying with a fragile breakwater, it stimulated him relentlessly in rhythm with the drumbeats.
As if ready to smash everything if it found even one weak spot...
'Damn it. This thing... it's not gonna explode suddenly, is it? If it does, sparring or not, I'll be branded a demonic fiend and it's game over.'
In simple terms, a "bad ending."
He had to prevent that at all costs.
'Gotta attack harder, make it count—whether it kills or feeds.'
Han Ibi said,
"This time, I'll go first. No holding back."
Seong Chun-don replied,
"Hmph. Who's holding you back?"
This time, Han Ibi charged without warning.
His wooden sword aimed at high and mid stances simultaneously.
Seong Chun-don blocked, so Han Ibi followed with mid and low strikes at once.
Seong Chun-don defended again.
Crack!
With a loud clash of wood, Han Ibi spun on his step and thrust again.
Seong Chun-don blocked once more. But... he seemed flustered.
A hint of confusion showed on his face.
The watching Qingcheng disciples felt the same.
"What is that? Was there a move like that in our Qingcheng martial arts?"
"No way. But... it kinda looks right..."
The same scene played out in the guest seats.
Nam Cheol-hong grumbled audibly,
"That's not Qingcheng swordsmanship! This match is worthless."
Someone snorted in derision—it was Elder Baek Beom-sang, who had earned his position through martial prowess alone.
Nam Cheol-hong scowled.
"What was that, Elder Baek?"
Baek Beom-sang said flatly,
"And you're a candidate for Qingcheng sect leader?"
"What do you mean?"
"That kid's swordplay is none other than genuine Qingcheng martial arts."
Nam Cheol-hong frothed at the mouth in response.
"Nonsense! I've never seen or heard of that sword path. You're mistaken."
Baek Beom-sang smirked.
"Who mentioned 'sword path'?"
The elders watching the exchange suddenly realized something and refocused on Han Ibi's assault.
And they got it.
Baek Beom-sang was right.
What Han Ibi was using wasn't "swordsmanship."
It was the Qingcheng martial art he knew best: the Fierce Tiger Palm Technique.
Han Ibi had hated wasting his favorite Qingcheng technique, so he'd endlessly practiced adapting it into swordplay.
And this surprise strategy was putting Seong Chun-don on the ropes.
Then Lee Sin-song's voice rang out.
"Ah, I see! So the boy Jong Ri-mae is quite the talent after all. Who'd think to turn palm strikes into swordplay? Impressive!"
Not loud, but clear even from afar—undoubtedly infused with subtle inner power.
Ki Baek-eom, allied with Bok Yeon-hwa, bellowed,
"What do you think you're doing? Coaching is strictly forbidden during the sect leader selection tournament!"
"Who said I was coaching? I just stated the obvious."
But the tide on the arena had already turned.
Seong Chun-don, who had been flailing in defense against an unknown style, switched back to offense.
The sharp one had realized, from Lee Sin-song's words, that Han Ibi's swordplay stemmed from Fierce Tiger Palm Technique forms.
Strike at the void, and it loses all power once filled.
Han Ibi was learning that lesson to his bones right there on the stage.
Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!
Seong Chun-don's wooden sword, now on the attack, lunged like a beast to devour Han Ibi, who poured every ounce of strength into defending.
And atop that, one more worry plagued Han Ibi's mind.
The unnatural stirring of the Hongmong Great Law.
Normally dormant, it had begun roiling wildly the moment the spar started.
The silver lining amid misfortune: that Hongmong Great Law energy was being suppressed by some unknown force.
Or more precisely, on one side it tried seizing Han Ibi's consciousness, while on the other it battled that mysterious power.
But he had no spare thought for that now.
Crack!
"Argh!"
Han Ibi cried out.
Seong Chun-don's wooden sword had slammed his thigh with tremendous force.
Bok Yeon-hwa and the heroes quickly caught on.
Seong Chun-don had targeted the thigh on purpose.
The same spot Bok Yeon-hwa had struck when subduing Nam Cheol-hong.
A proxy revenge for his master, so to speak...
Anyway, it hurt so bad Han Ibi felt like bursting into tears right then.
At the same time, the forcibly restrained Hongmong Great Law growled inside him, ready to rear its head.
Crack!
Another massive thud.
This time, his left shoulder took the hit.
The power was so immense he wondered if it was broken.
'Ah, you fucking bastard.'
A curse bubbled up unbidden.
The Hongmong Great Law seemed equally pissed, kicking at his lower belly like a fetus in the womb, stimulating it nonstop.
But where was the luxury for such thoughts?
Seong Chun-don's wooden sword flashed like lightning, striking Han Ibi's torso and limbs repeatedly.
Han Ibi flailed desperately to block...
But it wasn't enough.
Every four or five exchanges, one hit landed on his body.
Each one would leave a massive bruise.
At the same time, Han Ibi had to coax and soothe the Hongmong Great Law that felt ready to erupt.
'Hongmong, oh Hongmong. I'll do better, so please just stay quiet!'
(To be continued)