Chapter 24
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: Young Dragon Ascension Tournament, Part One
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-Swoooosh!
The sword energy gathered on Mujin's blade shot forward.
It sliced through the air, cutting through a wall over a hundred yards away.
Instantly, the wall crumbled to the ground.
This was the day Mujin had repeated the forms of the Nine Swords of Dugu roughly ten thousand times.
It also marked exactly one hundred days since the Four Demons had joined the Yeomhwa Family.
“This training ground is getting too small.”
Before Mujin could finish his thought, Masok burst into the training ground.
“Young Master!!!”
Masok, rushing in as boisterously as ever.
Despite being told countless times not to enter recklessly during training, his unchanging habit brought an unconscious smile to Mujin's face.
“How do you never change?”
“I thought you might have collapsed again. You’re the one who knocked down that wall, aren’t you?”
“Yes. This training ground is too small now.”
“What? But then there’s nowhere left in the family estate…”
“It’s fine. More importantly, it’s about time for Dojin and Soyeon to arrive. Why aren’t they here?”
At Mujin’s question, Masok looked at the collapsed wall and answered.
“Didn’t you hear yesterday? They went to Xichang with Elder Jo and Chief Steward Do to participate in the Young Dragon Ascension Tournament.”
Hearing this for the first time, Mujin, who had been wiping his iron sword and wrapping it in cloth, snapped his head toward Masok.
“Why are you only telling me something so important now?!”
“I… I just assumed the young master and young lady had told you!”
Mujin hastily threw on his worn martial arts uniform and took off.
Masok watched Mujin employ the Flame Emperor’s Light-Body Technique—something he had naturally picked up while teaching his younger siblings—and leap over the family wall in an instant, then shouted after him.
“If you’re going, at least take me with you!!!”
Finding the main road, bustling with people, inconvenient, Mujin leaped onto the roofs of houses and sprinted across them, his brow furrowed in frustration.
‘Come to think of it, I never heard where it was being held!’
Still, Mujin ran on.
He figured it had to be wherever a crowd had gathered and kept moving.
‘Why didn’t they tell me something so important?’
It might have a grand name like the Young Dragon Ascension Tournament, but it was just a small martial arts competition for local children.
Normally, he wouldn’t have paid it any mind, but it was a different story if his own siblings were participating.
He couldn't miss the sight of his two siblings—who threw punches with their fern-like hands and executed footwork with their tiny, adorable feet—competing against other children.
As he ran, Mujin leaped to progressively taller buildings.
Even with a sword weighing 110 catties on his back, he didn’t break a single roof tile.
From the top of the Grand Eagle Pavilion, the tallest building in Xichang, Mujin scanned the area and finally spotted a banner that read “Young Dragon Ascension Tournament.”
He launched himself into the air, flying toward it.
-Thud! Thud!
He landed on other roofs to break his fall, dropping swiftly to the outskirts of the tournament grounds.
“Excuse me!”
Mujin stopped a passing old man.
The old man, walking with a young woman and dressed in a shabby martial arts uniform, stopped and turned to look at Mujin.
“Are you calling me?”
“I am. A quick question. Has the tournament already ended?”
“Of course not. It hasn’t even started yet. How could it be over?”
The old man's words brought a sigh of relief from Mujin.
“Now, may I ask you a question?”
Mujin nodded at the old man's request.
“You’ve given me good news, so ask whatever you like.”
“Could it be… that your family name is Hwa?”
“It is.”
“Then you must be the Eldest Young Master of the Yeomhwa Family, the Hidden Dragon of Xichang?”
“That’s right. I am Hwa Mujin.”
At Mujin’s confirmation, the old man’s face crinkled into a wide smile.
“I see.”
“Is that all? I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
“That’s all.”
“Then I’ll be on my way.”
With that, Mujin turned and disappeared into the crowd. The old man watched his back for a long moment before speaking.
“Ju-tae. He’s the spitting image of him. Not just in looks, but his temperament is identical.”
“Grandfather, his speech is ill-mannered. He doesn’t seem very well-educated.”
“Hye-a, my dear, courtesy is not just about words. Especially not for a martial artist. Besides, isn’t it manly and refreshing? I came here on a whim, and I’m glad I did. It brought back a face I’ve missed. They say a hidden dragon is rising and a phoenix is about to spread its wings. A new wind is about to blow through Xichang.”
After saying this, the old man and the young woman also vanished into the crowd.
Mujin searched for a while before finally spotting the faces he was looking for.
He found the two children and the elder registering for the tournament.
Just as Mujin was about to approach them…
“Well, it’s been a while. I didn’t see you at the Xichang Martial Arts Assembly. I never expected to see you here.”
A middle-aged man in a fluttering white robe appeared and spoke to Elder Jo and Chief Steward Do.
He was followed by about a dozen martial artists. Seeing the smirk on the middle-aged man's face, Mujin decided to watch the situation unfold for a moment.
“Chief Steward Jang of the Baek Family Stronghold. It’s been a while. The family’s circumstances have been poor, so we’ve been out of touch.”
At Chief Steward Do’s words, the man, Chief Steward Jang, spoke with exaggerated gestures.
“I’ve heard all about your dire straits. That’s why you’re nearly ten years behind on your Xichang Martial World Association fees. Too poor to pay the fees that support the orthodox martial world of Xichang, but you seem to have enough for the entry fees to the Young Dragon Ascension Tournament?”
At Chief Steward Jang’s words, the martial artists waiting in line to register began to murmur amongst themselves.
“Ahem. Our Eldest Young Master has recently recovered from his chronic illness, and our situation is improving! The overdue fees will be paid in full soon, so it is no concern of yours, Chief Steward Jang.”
“My apologies. It seems I’ve overstepped. Still, it’s a relief. It seems the curse of the eldest son's poison that has shackled the Yeomhwa Family has been broken. After being so stubborn, you’ve finally made the bold decision to break the ancestor’s will. Seeing these two children participating, it seems they will inherit the family’s arts. It looks like the day we see the great Red Flame Arts again is not far off.”
!!!
His words crossed a line. Chief Steward Do’s hand went to the iron fan at his waist, and Elder Jo had already half-drawn his sword.
The two old men had grown accustomed to bowing their heads, but the dark clouds that had hung over the Yeomhwa Family had long since cleared.
Just as they were about to strike, the martial artists behind Chief Steward Jang also prepared to draw their swords.
In that touch-and-go moment, Mujin stepped into the fray.
“Should adults be interfering on a day for children to compete?! Today, the children who will become the hope of Xichang are the main event, are they not?”
Mujin’s mature words broke the tense atmosphere.
“It’s been a while.”
Mujin ignored Chief Steward Jang, who offered a light fist-and-palm salute, and walked right past him.
“Oh! Big brother! Why are you here? We didn’t tell you on purpose.”
At Soyeon’s words, Mujin spoke.
“What was the reason for keeping it a secret?”
“We wanted to surprise you after we won!”
Mujin smiled at Soyeon’s bold declaration.
“Have you finished registering?”
“Yes!”
“Yup!”
“Good. Are you confident?”
Mujin knelt on one knee, meeting his siblings’ eyes as he asked.
“Elder Jo said that as long as we can show everything we’ve learned, it will be a good experience regardless of the outcome.”
“I’m confident! I’m going to crush that boastful Jo-mu’s nose!”
“Jo-mu? The son of that martial family?”
“Yup! The son from the Sangro Martial Academy. He always calls us unskilled whenever we play.”
‘That little bastard!’
Mujin clenched his fist for a moment before quickly unclenching it and patting his siblings on the head.
“A competitive spirit is good, and so is self-cultivation. Whatever it may be, it will be a great experience. Do as you wish.”
“Yes!”
“Okay!”
After stroking the two children’s heads, Mujin stood up.
Having been ignored by Mujin, who had walked past him to talk to the children, Chief Steward Jang’s face contorted with anger.
Mujin turned back to him.
“A martial family should take pride in their martial arts. If you just boast about money, people will call you vulgar. A warrior should trust their sword, not their gold, right?”
At Mujin’s words, Chief Steward Jang’s face began to turn red.
“Hahaha! Well said, young man.”
Just then, the old man Mujin had first spoken to reappeared, laughing and clapping his hands.
Chief Steward Jang shot the old man a glare before turning his gaze back to Mujin.
“But is a martial family’s poverty something to be proud of? You seem to have come to cheer on your siblings, but showing up to a place with so many martial artists in such a worn-out uniform is hardly something to be proud of, is it?”
“Why should a martial artist not be proud of their attire? Wearing fine clothes won’t turn a novice into a master.”
“Hahaha! That’s right! Fine clothes won’t grant you skill you don’t have!”
As the old man’s hearty laughter cut in again, Chief Steward Jang’s face twisted in fury.
“Enough. There’s no point in talking if you won’t listen. Living so poorly is why you haven't been able to recruit a single warrior in three months, despite posting notices! You talk so much about skill—I’ll be watching to see just how great that skill is during the matches!”
With that, the Chief Steward of the Baek Family Stronghold disappeared with his men toward the competition stage.
It was common knowledge in Xichang that the Yeomhwa Family had been trying to recruit warriors for over three months but had not received a single applicant.
Chief Steward Jang had pointed this out in front of the many warriors from outside the region to humiliate them before leaving.
Mujin watched his retreating back, forcing himself to suppress the burning anger that rose within him.
‘If it weren’t for my siblings, you wouldn’t be walking away with your neck held so high. Because I would have sliced it clean off.’
This was his siblings’ first tournament.
He couldn't ruin it by cutting off Chief Steward Jang’s head in front of so many martial artists.
“...”
The old man approached Mujin, who was silently watching Chief Steward Jang, with his granddaughter in tow.
“You. You have a way with words.”
Mujin turned his gaze to the old man who had followed him and chimed in.
“I didn’t say anything untrue, so what’s there to praise?”
“A masterpiece. That friend of mine, Hwa Ju-tae, certainly knew how to pick a grandson.”
Hearing him mention the name of the Flame Emperor, the founder of the Yeomhwa Family and its head two generations prior, the eyes of Elder Jo and Chief Steward Do lit up.
“You know our old master?”
“I don’t know him well, but I wouldn't say I don't know him.”
The ambiguous answer made the chief steward and the elder study the old man’s face closely, but he didn’t look familiar.
Just then, a martial artist stepped onto the stage and began to speak, his voice amplified by internal energy.
-Thank you to all the martial artists of Xichang who have come to participate in the Young Dragon Ascension Tournament, held for the first time in five years, and to all the honored guests who have come to observe. I am Seok-mo, the head of the Seok Family Stronghold.
His voice, though spoken softly, spread clearly throughout the wide tournament grounds, causing the ordinary onlookers to stare at Seok Il-do, the head of the Seok Family, in amazement.
After capturing everyone’s attention with a fist-and-palm salute, he continued.
-Before the matches begin, we have prepared food for our honored guests. Please enjoy the Young Dragon Ascension Tournament!
-Woooooah!
The crowd erupted in cheers at the mention of food.
With that, Seok Il-do went under a large canopy set up near the stage.
Gathered there were not only members of the Seok Family but also martial artists from other martial sects based in Xichang.
“The members of the Yeomhwa Family may be seated over here.”
A martial artist approached and guided Mujin and his group to a table set up for the general audience.
Mujin followed the warrior’s guidance without a word and sat at a table among the common folk.
The old man, accompanied by his granddaughter, naturally joined Mujin’s group at their table.
‘Why has this old geezer been acting so friendly since earlier?’
It wasn’t particularly bothersome, but it wasn’t pleasant either.
‘I’m not keen on eating with those bastards from the Tang Clan.’
With that thought, Mujin sent a telepathic message to his two siblings, the chief steward, and the elder.
-Try not to eat or drink anything. Not even the tea.
Hearing the message, the two siblings momentarily looked at Mujin.
But Mujin feigned ignorance, staring into the distance with his arms crossed.
The two quick-witted children immediately averted their gaze and pretended to be occupied.
Elder Jo and Chief Steward Do, seasoned veterans of the martial world, heard Mujin’s message but remained composed, showing no sign of it.
They surmised that Mujin must have a good reason for saying so.
The old man picked up his chopsticks and ate the prepared rice cakes and pan-fried beef, while his granddaughter filled his cup with wine.
“Is no one else eating?”
“We ate not long ago. Please, help yourself.”
“We’re too nervous to have an appetite.”
As Chief Steward Do and Dojin replied, the old man nodded.
Time passed, and just as the final preparations for the tournament were underway…
Seok Il-do, the head of the Seok Family, who had come out from under the canopy to survey the audience, saw his eyes widen.
He rushed over to where Mujin’s group was seated, clasped his hands together, and bowed deeply.
“I-I-I greet the great Poison Emperor! Why would you personally grace such a small tournament with your presence…?”
The words “Poison Emperor” sent a ripple through the crowd, and the figures from the Xichang martial sects who had been inside the canopy began to rush out.
One of the few martial artists in the Central Plains to have earned the title of Emperor.
The Sword Emperor of Wudang, the Fist Emperor of Shaolin, the Poison Emperor of the Tang Clan, and the Whip Emperor of Samu-cheon.
One of the four strongest individuals in the current martial world had appeared at a local tournament for young warriors. It was more than enough to turn the entire place upside down.
“Was there someone left in Xichang who knew my face?”
The Poison Emperor was a figure shrouded in mystery; very few had ever seen him in person.
He usually only revealed his name when facing an enemy, and not many of his enemies survived to tell the tale.
“I… I had the honor of seeing the great Dang Su-mun’s esteemed face from afar long ago.”
At Seok Il-do’s words, the Poison Emperor, Dang Su-mun, gave a small nod.
‘I thought he was a familiar old man from the Tang Clan. So it was Dang Su-mun.’
A smile played on Mujin’s lips.
When he had begun his fierce decade-long war against the Nine Great Sects, four of the Five Great Families, excluding the Namgung Family, had stayed far away from the conflict.
They had remained strictly neutral, unwilling to make an enemy of the Divine Demon.
There was the matter of justification, but the heads of the four families had also once suffered a harsh defeat at the hands of the Divine Demon, Jeongcheon.
Seeing the once-promising young man who had been there that day now so withered with age, Mujin felt a sense of nostalgia.
‘To think the greenhorn from back then is now the Poison Emperor.’