Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Dragon Phoenix Tournament (1)
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제21화
21화. Dragon Phoenix Tournament (1)
I remembered the name Cheongbaek of the Wudang Sect.
He was the one who survived until he became a white-haired old man in his previous life and eventually rose to the position of Wudang elder.
In the final bloody duel with Namgung Cheon, that bastard had jammed a sword into my back.
Back then, his moniker was Wudang's Greatest Sword.
"Immovable Sword! Immovable Sword! Immovable Sword!"
The moment Cheongbaek stepped onto the stage, the spectators shouted his moniker in unison.
So, during his time as a young expert, Wudang's Greatest Sword was called the Immovable Sword. It was exactly the kind of name those Taoist monks would love.
A sword that doesn't move, one that upholds justice without harming enemies.
If you're going to hold a sword but not cut with it, you might as well train in fist techniques or staff arts. The righteous faction folks are always so stubborn about the weirdest things.
On the other hand, as soon as Yuseongil from the Swift Sword Sect climbed onto the stage, the cheering crowd began murmuring.
"Where's the Swift Sword Sect?"
"No idea. Never heard of them."
"Obviously some no-name sect sending out a greenhorn. He's gonna learn the hard way about the skill gap today."
Yuseongil had made it here through the preliminaries, which weren't open to the public, so it was natural the spectators didn't know him.
Besides, the Swift Sword Sect was a mysterious sect with fewer than ten members. Even among the people here, including the Alliance Leader, only a handful would know of them.
So everyone present probably thought Cheongbaek of the Wudang Sect would win easily.
Everyone except me, that is.
"I'll learn from you."
Cheongbaek solemnly drew his sword and calmly pointed the tip at Yuseongil.
His impeccably composed posture, not a single hair out of place, blended perfectly with his aura, which seemed to settle heavily on the ground, filling the entire arena.
In contrast, Yuseongil hadn't even drawn his sword. He was yawning with his wrist propped against the scabbard.
It was an attitude utterly devoid of any manners.
"Aren't you going to draw your sword?"
Even to Cheongbaek's question directed at him, Yuseongil just nodded.
Everyone watching him probably thought he was rude, but the truth was, it wasn't his fault he lacked etiquette.
He had simply learned to wield a sword before anything else from birth, and hadn't been taught anything beyond that by anyone.
"Don't regret it."
As the referee's hand rose between them, Cheongbaek adjusted his stance toward him.
The match would start the moment the referee's hand came down. From the energy he was giving off, Cheongbaek planned to end it in one stroke as soon as it began.
And finally, with the flutter of the referee's sleeve, the hand dropped.
Pabat!
But Cheongbaek could do nothing.
Before he could even twitch, Yuseongil's sword was already at his throat.
Ilseom, or Single Flash.
It refers to the moment a blade gleams once.
Some say that if you can slay a foe with a single flash, you could fight ten thousand battles and win them all.
The Swift Sword Sect was a group formed by exactly such madmen.
A sect of lunatics who stake their lives on a single exchange in a fleeting instant, pursuing the ultimate swift sword.
For Yuseongil, raised in that place, it was only natural that he learned the sword before words.
He spent more time swinging his sword than with his parents. He had swung it more times than words he had spoken in his entire life.
Then one day, while practicing as usual, he heard the news that his parents, masters of the swift sword, had died.
They had unleashed their swift sword against a peerless expert and lost.
The reason for their defeat was none other than the single flash. In the vast martial world, there were monsters who could react even to that momentary gleam.
Rather than grieve his parents' death, Yuseongil sought a solution to the single flash.
'How can I face a peerless expert with just one straight thrust, a single swift sword stroke?'
His answer was simple.
'If my sword reaches the enemy's throat faster than light, I can win.'
He named that sword the Lightless Blade Art.
"I lost."
Cheongbaek cleanly admitted defeat.
He probably knew it too. That he wasn't even a match.
Yuseongil's sword embodied pure reason.
It was closer to the principle of swiftness than any sword I had ever seen.
In martial arts, reason is akin to truth.
It's fortunate if one comprehends it even at the young expert level, but he had fused it into his sword.
Cheongbaek, the future Wudang's Greatest Sword and a true prodigy, was no weakling. But even he couldn't see Yuseongil's swift sword.
The gap between them was overwhelming.
"Did you see that?"
"No, not at all."
"What just happened?"
Murmurs spread through the crowd. Some didn't even realize the match had ended.
It had concluded at a speed even open eyes couldn't follow, so it was understandable.
And the victor being a rude guy from some unknown sect they hadn't even expected to compete— that made it all the more shocking.
"Winner: Yuseongil of the Swift Sword Sect!"
Only after the referee announced it did sparse applause echo from spots in the arena.
Yuseongil returned to the participants' area with a nonchalant face. But the other participants' faces weren't so relaxed.
First Namgung Cheon, now Yuseongil. The other young experts who already knew they were monsters glanced at each other with cold sweats, faces saying, 'Am I the weakest here?'
Sigh, grown men with no grit like this. The future of the martial world looks bleak.
Back in my day, if there was a strong guy around, I'd go challenge him just to learn a move or two...
Wait, since I've come back to the past, my time is now?
This damn martial world never changes.
"It's the end times, the end times."
The absentminded mutter drew sharp stares from the participants.
Couldn't even mumble to myself in peace.
Me, of all people, minding these green kids...
"Next match: Jegal Hyeon of the Zhuge Family versus Yi Sowol of the Lower Five Gates!"
Unhak's opponent was that madman from the Namgung Family I'd seen before.
I didn't think he'd lose, but even a madman had to face one of the Five Great Sects.
And from the Namgung Family, the maddest of the mad gathered together.
Those house's guys are all insane, so he needs to be careful.
"Great hero, I'll be off then."
Unhak, sitting next to me, clasped his hands in greeting toward me before preparing to head to the stage.
"Mm, yes. Watch out for the opponent's taunts."
"Pardon? Ah, yes!"
Unhak seemed not to fully grasp it but took it as my encouragement.
When facing the insane, staying calm is key—first, second, and always.
If you get dragged into their madness, the one who's lived as a madman his whole life has the edge. That's just logic.
This is advice only I, who lived my whole previous life as a madman, can give.
"Alright, let the match begin!"
Unhak and Namgung U adjusted their stances on the stage. Even after the referee's hand dropped and the duel started, neither showed the slightest waver for a moment.
The Namgung Family's sword is worthy of being called the Tyrant's Sword, boasting an overwhelming heavy sword style. A sword art that adds weight by infusing massive energy.
That's why Unhak wasn't rushing in either, biding for an opening.
Good judgment.
"For a righteous sect swordsman, the Plum Blossom Sword Master no less, to associate with demonic riffraff. Today, I'll show you what a true sword of justice is."
Massive internal energy began building in Namgung U's sword.
If Huashan swords unleash sword qi, the Namgung Family's condenses massive energy.
Sword qi reminiscent of the azure heavens dyed the blade blue.
Emperor Sword Art, First Form: Heavenly Sword.
Straight line.
Like a thousand-catty iron lump plummeting from on high, a straight strike from above crashed toward Unhak.
But no matter how heavy as a thousand catties, if it doesn't hit, it's meaningless.
Plum Blossom Sword Art, Sixth Form: Plum Blossom Turbulent Flow.
Unhak raised his blade to block, leaving three afterimages.
The sword clashing with Namgung U's massive energy slid along the afterimage and smoothly deflected the attack.
Kwang!
In the end, Namgung U's sword, unable to even graze Unhak's clothes, slammed into the ground.
Plum Blossom Sword Art, Thirteenth Form: Plum Blossom Chaos Scatter.
A powerful strike always leaves an opening. Unhak didn't miss it.
Namgung U quickly pulled his deeply embedded sword and tried to raise it to block, but there was no way his hasty, sloppy stance could hold.
Countless slashes filled the arena like plum petals scattering in the wind.
Chwak. Chuk. Chwajak.
Namgung U blocked some, but the ones he couldn't dodge grazed his clothes, leaving him in tatters before he knew it.
Cheok.
And finally, Unhak's sword touched Namgung U's throat.
"Winner: Unhak of the Huashan Sect!"
"Waaaaah!"
The sword qi resembling plum blossoms lingered in the air even after the match ended. The spectators, entranced by the brilliant swordsmanship, cheered endlessly.
"Kuhk."
Namgung U ground his teeth in frustration.
"Apologize."
"What?"
"Apologize for calling my friend riffraff."
Unhak, uncharacteristically fired up during the match, had held onto those words.
I'd warned him about taunts, but to get rattled by that? Might need to chew him out later.
"...I apologize for insulting your friend."
But seeing Namgung U's face, veins bulging as he gritted his teeth to apologize, was so satisfying I could let it slide.
That's my boy, good job.
"Great hero! How was this match?"
The moment it ended, Unhak rushed to me like a puppy seeking praise, and it didn't feel unfamiliar at all.
'Boss! This fight was a breeze, right?'
Praising from the first win might spoil him.
But whatever.
"Your improved skill was a sight to behold."
The wound that had chained him for life was gone now.
That fact touched me deeply.
The heavy pressure that bound him, the self-loathing he tortured himself with daily—gone. Seeing you smile brightly was wonderful.
"I'll keep striving harder!"
As if seeing me as his master, Unhak clasped his hands toward me.
I simply smiled back at him.
After endless years, I held a pure smile in my heart once more.
Like your smile, preparing to shed the cage and take flight.
And finally, the referee called my name.
"Next match: Jegal Hyeon of the Zhuge Family versus Yi Sowol of the Lower Five Gates!"
Ironically, my opponent was that guy.
Come to think of it, Jegal Hyeon had joined the Dragon Phoenix Tournament out of interest in me from the start.
Meeting as first-round opponents at the journey's end—is this fate?
"Brother."
As if he'd known we'd duel, Jegal Hyeon was already in front of me.
"Let's go."
With just those words, he turned and headed to the stage.
No need for more talk?
Then it was only right I obliged.
"Yeah."
When was the last time our swords clashed?
Who'd have thought we, no longer Mad Demon or Blood Demon, would cross blades again like this.
Feeling my heartbeat and blood flow purely, I stepped toward the stage.