Chapter 59
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Wudang Sword Dragon.
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The Path of the Young Dragon.
A guided sparring match, or a friendly bout, started with the intention of showing the way to the greatest talents destined to lead the Orthodox Martial World.
For the spectators of the Orthodox Grand Tournament, it was a spectacle to soothe the regret of the tournament's end, and for the winner, it was a privilege to receive new teachings from a master of any sect.
It wasn't that there were no people who occasionally used the Path of the Young Dragon like Cheong Mu-hak.
There were, after all, spirited individuals who sought to make a name for themselves by nominating and defeating rising masters who had already gained great fame.
However, such individuals usually chose to challenge masters about half a generation ahead of them.
But Mujin was five years younger than Cheong Mu-hak.
For the 28-year-old Cheong Mu-hak to request a match on the Path of the Young Dragon against the 23-year-old Hwa Mujin, who could be considered his junior, was an act that went against the event's original purpose.
Despite this, the spectating crowd was excited and eager to see the match.
-The Hidden Dragon of Sichuan and the Wudang Sword Dragon are fighting?
-If the two dragons fight, who will win?
-The Hidden Dragon of Sichuan was never on the level of a junior in the first place. He didn't even participate in the Orthodox Grand Tournament, thinking he had no equal.
-But that's no guarantee the Wudang Sword Dragon will lose. Cheong Mu-hak, who defeated Shaolin's Hyeon-gwon—a semi-finalist—in just thirty seconds, can also be seen as having surpassed the level of a junior.
-Nonsense. Haven't you heard the rumor that the Hidden Dragon of Sichuan crushed Hwiji of the Single Sword in just one second? No matter how great the Wudang Sword Dragon is, it's ten years too early for him to challenge the Hidden Dragon of Sichuan.
With the attention of countless people focused on their duel, the elders of Shaolin and the various sects began to gather, flustered by the situation.
The elders of the Nine Great Sects started taking their seats one by one in the VIP section, where the abbot and elders of Shaolin, the tournament hosts, were gathered.
“This is… quite a predicament.”
At the Shaolin Abbot's words, Elder Myeong-hyeon of the Wudang Sect bowed his head.
“My apologies. My disciple’s poor education has caused concern for you, Abbot Hyeon-gak, and for Shaolin.”
“There’s no fault in a young warrior’s overflowing spirit. However, nothing like this has ever happened in the Orthodox Grand Tournament before… Since it doesn’t align with the purpose of the Path of the Young Dragon, perhaps we should recommend he change his opponent…”
Abbot Hyeon-gak of Shaolin Temple trailed off, looking at Master Myeong-hyeon.
Just as Master Myeong-hyeon was about to speak, a new figure entered the VIP tent and said,
“Wouldn’t it be fine? The purpose of the Path of the Young Dragon is to receive teachings from a master. Regardless of who the opponent is, what sect they belong to, or what their status is. Wasn’t the point to unhesitatingly show the winner of the Orthodox Grand Tournament the path a master should take?”
Everyone gathered cupped their fists in salute to the old man who had entered.
After all, in terms of seniority among the current masters of the Central Plains, the Poison Emperor was the second highest.
“What you say is certainly true, Elder Poison Emperor, but never before in the Path of the Young Dragon has a winner requested a duel with a warrior younger than himself.”
The Poison Emperor smiled at the Mount Hua Sect elder's words.
“What does age matter? It is an occasion for a master to give teachings to a subordinate, in accordance with the event’s purpose.”
Seeing the Poison Emperor emphasize the words ‘master’ and ‘subordinate,’ Elder Myeong-hyeon of Wudang’s eyebrow twitched.
Cheong Mu-hak was not just an ordinary first-generation disciple of Wudang; he was the grand disciple who would lead the next generation.
He could hardly be pleased to hear it officially stated that such a person was subordinate to Hwa Mujin, a rising master from Sichuan.
“Well, there’s always a first time for everything. And since Elder Poison Emperor has spoken, I believe this could set a good precedent. What do you think?”
Master Myeong-hyeon said, looking at the Shaolin Abbot.
Anyone could see the anger on his face, provoked by the Poison Emperor.
This put the Shaolin side in a difficult position.
Allowing something unprecedented was a truly difficult matter.
If a bad precedent were set here, winners in future Orthodox Grand Tournaments might exploit the Path of the Young Dragon for personal fame.
As the abbot wore a troubled expression, Great Monk Hyeon-u interjected.
“Abbot, my brother. I believe it would be fine to allow it this once.”
“Do you have a reason for thinking so?”
“Is his opponent not the head of the Yeomhwa Family? The Hidden Dragon of Sichuan and the Wudang Sword Dragon are undoubtedly the talents who will lead the next generation of our Orthodox Martial World. I don’t think it would be a bad thing for two such individuals to compete in the Orthodox Grand Tournament. If we try to stop these hot-blooded warriors, they might end up crossing swords elsewhere, and that could lead to a worse outcome. Like the incident with the Iron Fist Clan.”
When Great Monk Hyeon-u mentioned the Iron Fist Clan, the abbot nodded.
There was nothing to be gained from members of the Orthodox path repeatedly building unnecessary grudges against each other.
Especially if giants like Hwa Mujin, who had emerged as a powerhouse in Sichuan, and Cheong Mu-hak, destined for the position of Wudang's Sect Leader, were to become enemies over a trivial grudge, it would harm the spirit of the Orthodox Martial World for years to come.
“In that case… Shaolin will permit this Path of the Young Dragon match. Does anyone object?”
Abbot Hyeon-gak looked around at everyone gathered in the hall, but no one stepped forward to object.
“Very well. Then I permit the Path of the Young Dragon duel between Family Head Hwa Mujin of the Sichuan Yeomhwa Family and Master Cheong Mu-hak of Wudang.”
Once the decision was made, Master Myeong-hyeon of Wudang strode toward the Wudang VIP section, where Cheong Mu-hak, the cause of the incident, was located.
The Poison Emperor also made his way to the Yeomhwa Family’s VIP section.
And following behind him were two more martial artists.
“The Orthodox Grand Tournament is already coming to an end.”
“You must have been surprised by the sudden nomination.”
Mujin nodded at the elder from the Qingcheng Sect and the two elders from the Emei Sect, whose sudden appearance was even more surprising.
“I’ll have the chance to experience Wudang’s orthodox swordplay, so it will be a great learning experience.”
At Mujin's words, the three elders nodded, their eyes twinkling.
Looking at the Poison Emperor, who was just smiling behind them, Mujin sent a telepathic message.
-Why have all these people come here? It’s a lot of pressure.
-They’re here to cheer you on. What other reason could there be?
-Cheer me on? Why me, of all people, instead of the Wudang brat from the same Nine Great Sects?
-Because you’re both from Sichuan.
At those words, Mujin nodded.
He had been burdened by the thought that they might have some ulterior motive, but that wasn’t it.
If a master from one region is defeated by a master from another, the reputation of all masters from the losing region inevitably falls with them.
The Wudang Sword Dragon, who had proven through the Orthodox Grand Tournament that he was the greatest talent among the juniors of Hubei.
If Mujin, recently acclaimed as the best junior in Sichuan, were to lose to such a warrior, the martial artists of Sichuan could be judged as inferior to those of Hubei.
Mujin now found himself in a duel where the pride of Sichuan and Hubei was at stake.
“Please, don’t feel the need to hold back just because you are in front of a crowd. This Path of the Young Dragon match is completely different from those before, so no one will blame you for displaying your full strength.”
These were not words one would expect from a Taoist master of the Qingcheng Sect.
Nevertheless, Elder Jo Do-yeong of the Qingcheng Sect said so.
“Yes. It would be good to show them a taste of Sichuan’s spice. The Central Plains tends to treat our Sichuan like a backwater province, after all.”
Mujin smiled at Myeol-ryeong's even more forward words.
“You have nothing to worry about. Holding back one’s sword is disrespectful to the opponent. As a martial artist stepping onto that stage, I will act solely as a martial artist.”
In other words, he was saying he would beat his opponent senseless without a shred of mercy.
At his words, the two Emei Sect elders smiled with satisfaction, and the Qingcheng Sect elder even clapped.
-*Clap, clap!*
“Indeed, you may be young, but you are a true warrior of Sichuan. Yes. That’s how it should be!”
‘And these people are supposed to be disciples of Buddha and Taoist masters who cultivate the Way.’
Swallowing the words he couldn't say aloud, Mujin smiled.
The competitive spirit of martial artists always burned fiercely, regardless of their affiliation.
“Family Head Hwa. I’ll be cheering for you!”
Mujin gave a slight nod at Seomun Jin-hui's words, who smiled with her eyes and raised a clenched fist.
“I, too… will be looking forward to it.”
Next to her, Jeong Su-ae said so with a slightly flushed expression.
At her words, Abbesses Myeol-ryeong and Myeol-ju showed slightly surprised expressions.
Jeong Su-ae was usually the one least adept at showing her emotions, even at the main temple.
In the Central Plains, she might be revered as a divine beauty or some such, but the Emei elders who actually lived with her always felt uneasy when they looked at her.
Having shut her heart completely due to a dark incident in her past, she rarely spoke with her martial siblings, whom she had known for a long time, beyond everyday pleasantries.
She was a disciple whose entire life at the main temple consisted of swinging her sword in training.
If she had fully committed to the Buddhist path, it might have been different, but seeing her as a registered disciple who nonetheless kept one foot in the secular world without officially joining the clergy, many Emei elders were deeply worried.
It was already surprising to see her, a person who had never shown interest even in the martial siblings she had lived with for so long, come to the Yeomhwa Family’s VIP section of her own accord and take a seat. To now see her offer words of encouragement to Mujin, it was no wonder the two elders were astonished.
“Thank you. That expectation. It will be rewarded.”
Smiling as he said this, Mujin cast his gaze toward a warrior monk running toward him from a distance.
“Family Head Hwa. Do you accept the nomination for the Path of the Young Dragon?”
“Of course I accept. A warrior of the Yeomhwa Family does not shy away from a fight that comes to him.”
The warrior monk was taken aback by Mujin’s answer, which was filled with fighting spirit.
“It’s not a f-fight, but… Yes. Then please come up to the sparring stage in a moment. The abbot will call your name from there.”
“Understood. But before that… could you possibly find me a heavy iron club?”
“An iron… club?”
“Something about the length of a sword. The weight doesn’t matter. It feels a bit much to use a real sword against a fellow member of the Orthodox path.”
At Mujin’s words, the warrior monk looked at Mujin’s sword with a bewildered expression.
He had ears, so he was well aware of what kind of state Mujin had left the eldest young master of the Iron Fist Clan in with that brutish sword.
“So you intend… not to use a real sword.”
“Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll use it.”
“…I will try to find one.”
The warrior monk ran off and returned a short while later with a short staff.
It was an iron club that seemed to weigh a little over 30 geun, shaped to be thicker toward the end.
“The center of gravity is weighted toward the front… This will probably be difficult for you to use, won’t it?”
Swordsmen were extremely sensitive to the center of gravity of their swords.
Even a slightly unbalanced sword could disrupt the balance of their forms and dull their sword path.
But Mujin lifted the short staff, examined it from all angles, then smiled and nodded.
“This will be more than enough.”
“…Yes.”
The warrior monk’s heart grew heavy just imagining what would happen when Mujin stepped onto the stage with that iron staff.
This Path of the Young Dragon match had a completely different atmosphere from the guided sparring sessions of the past.
It was clear to everyone that the Wudang Sword Dragon had not nominated Mujin to receive guidance.
When he stepped onto the stage wielding a club instead of a real sword against the Wudang Sword Dragon, who was watching him with undisguised hostility, people would surely think that Mujin didn't even consider the Wudang Sword Dragon a worthy opponent.
And the Wudang Sect would not take this provocation lightly.
-*Kukuku*. I’m already looking forward to the looks on the faces of those Wudang Taoists.
Mujin replied to the Poison Emperor’s telepathic message by swinging the iron club through the air with a *whoosh*.
-It’s no hard task to beat a guy who’s asking for it. He looks like he was raised with a silver spoon; a good thrashing should do the trick. More importantly, are you going to keep it to yourself until the end?
The Poison Emperor tilted his head at Mujin’s question.
-What?
-The reason that guy holds a grudge against me. You looked like you knew something.
-Do you really not know?
-I’m asking because I don’t.
The Poison Emperor studied Mujin’s expression, then smiled and shook his head.
-A man with such keen senses. Can’t you tell just by looking? He harbors deep affection for one of those two women.
At the Poison Emperor’s words, Mujin looked at Seomun Jin-hui and Jeong Su-ae, who were watching him.
-Affection? The grand disciple of Wudang? He nominated me in the Path of the Young Dragon because of his affection for a mere woman?
-‘Mere affection,’ you say. Is that any way for one man to speak to another? Didn’t you cause the Nine Great Sects to seal themselves away for fifteen years because of that same sentiment?
He wasn’t rebuking him for loving a woman.
If you truly love someone, what wouldn't you do?
However, the reason for Mujin’s bewilderment lay elsewhere.
-Does the Orthodox Taoist school permit marriage? As I recall, Taoism, much like Buddhism, advocates for asceticism.
-Unlike Buddhism, they don’t explicitly forbid marriage. It’s just that no one who has married has ever become the Sect Leader of Wudang.
-So, does that mean the others, aside from the Sect Leader, can get married and all that?
-Why not? They’re martial Taoists, not spiritual ones. The Orthodox Taoist sects are in a transitional period, seeking to adapt to the secular world. Didn’t the Diancang Sect completely lift the Taoist prohibitions and re-enter the world? Compared to them, who even abandoned their Taoist names, Wudang is quite conservative.
At the Poison Emperor's words, Mujin realized that more had changed than he had known.
‘Well. Thirty years is enough time for mountains and rivers to change three times over.’
While Mujin was suddenly feeling the passage of time, the Shaolin Abbot, Hyeon-gak, who had climbed onto the stage, began to speak.
“Family Head Hwa Mujin of the Yeomhwa Family, nominated to light the way for this Path of the Young Dragon, please come up to the stage.”
His gentle, benevolent voice spread to every corner of Hwajeong Peak.
Holding the iron club, Mujin walked up to the stage as his name was called.
Many people began to whisper at his confident stride and the iron club in his hand.
-Surely not… Does he intend to face the Wudang Sword Dragon with that thing?
-How could he… unless he looks down on the Wudang Sword Dragon so much.
-Isn’t he taking the Wudang Sword Dragon too lightly?
As expected, when Mujin stepped onto the stage with the iron club, not only the crowd but also the martial artists began to stir.
-*Ahem!* Next, the winner of this Orthodox Grand Tournament who nominated Family Head Hwa of the Yeomhwa Family. Cheong Mu-hak of the Wudang Sect. Step onto the stage.
-*Tat-tat!* *Cheok!*
Cheong Mu-hak, who had leaped onto the stage in a single bound using his lightness skill, was glaring at Mujin with a flushed face.
Facing him, Mujin was twirling the iron club in his hand.
If Cheong Mu-hak had been a little calmer, he would have noticed that the weight of the iron club Mujin was spinning on his finger was anything but ordinary.
But he failed to notice this at all.
In the Yeomhwa Family’s VIP section, the elder from the Qingcheng Sect tilted his head, feeling a sense of unease.
“That short staff appears to be made of cast iron; it shouldn’t be a weight one can handle so lightly with just a finger…”
As he trailed off and tilted his head, the Poison Emperor shifted his gaze to the sword standing in Mujin’s seat and spoke.
“He’s a man who fights with that thing. What’s an iron rod like this to him?”
“…Now that you mention it, just how much does that iron sword weigh?”
“If you’re curious, try lifting it.”
“How could I… touch a sword without its owner present.”
The Qingcheng Sect elder quickly averted his gaze from the sword as he spoke.
Overhearing their conversation from behind, Masok spoke up cautiously as he refilled Soyeon’s teacup.
“The weight of the Family Head’s sword is 110 geun.”
!!!
Not just the Qingcheng elder, but also the Emei elders, the Poison Emperor, and even Seomun Jin-hui and Jeong Su-ae, who were present, all turned to Masok with wide eyes.
“H-how many geun did you just say?”
“I said 110 geun…”
Masok replied, taking a slight step back.
“Impossible! How can he fight while wielding something like that!”
The Poison Emperor shot to his feet and reached for the sword standing in Mujin’s seat.
And as he lifted it, his expression hardened.
“…”
“D-does it really weigh 110 geun?”
The Qingcheng elder asked without any intention of lifting it himself.
“…I don’t have the skill to measure weight precisely, so I can’t be sure. However… I can state with certainty that it is over 100 geun.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
With shocked expressions, the people raised their gazes to the sparring stage.
The playful act of spinning a cast-iron club between his fingers no longer seemed like a game to them.
“...Then! Let the Path of the Young Dragon begin. Cheong Mu-hak, as the winner, you are here to receive teachings, so do not dwell on victory or defeat, but strive to learn even one more thing. Begin the duel!”
With those words, Abbot Hyeon-gak descended from the stage, the hem of his kasaya fluttering.
“…Do you really intend to face me with that?”
Mujin grinned at Cheong Mu-hak’s question.
“Yes. I intend to give you a… les… son… with this.”
“…Don’t regret it, even if you see blood!”
-*Clang!*
Drawing his sword with a rough motion, Cheong Mu-hak aimed it at Mujin and glided forward.