Chapter 22
Chapter 22
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Dragon Phoenix Tournament (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Thud, thud.
The sound of two people's footsteps echoed across the marble floor.
Once called the Blood Demon, and once called the Mad Demon.
Jegal Hyeon and I faced each other, drawing the swords from our waists.
I stood there buzzing with excitement at the thought of crossing blades with him after so long, when the murmur of the crowd reached my ears.
"Hey, isn't that guy Jegal Hyeon, the Murim Alliance's chief strategist?"
"What? Why would the Alliance's chief strategist come all the way here? No way."
"No, I saw him before. That's definitely Jegal Hyeon."
"Good grief, it's ridiculous enough that the Lower Five Gates are facing off against one of the Five Great Sects, but this match is gonna be a total blowout."
As expected of the Alliance's chief strategist—his face was known even to those outside the martial world.
That aside, it was clear no one here expected me to win, not even in their wildest dreams. I'd anticipated it, but it still soured my mood.
The Lower Five Gates ranked at the very bottom when it came to individual martial prowess, so it was understandable.
And my opponent was one of the Five Great Sects, no less—a heavyweight holding the position of chief strategist. Plenty of people probably figured the match would end in a single exchange again.
But they'd learn soon enough.
Who I was, and what it meant for me to belong to the Lower Five Gates.
"Then, let the duel begin!"
With those words, the referee's hand shot up.
And until that hand came down again, Jegal Hyeon and I stared straight into each other's eyes.
It was a kind of conversation. Even without words, the moment our gazes locked, we'd already decided who would strike first.
Just from exchanging glances, our thoughts seemed to intertwine naturally.
Crack!
The moment the match began, I charged at him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
And Jegal Hyeon, as if he'd known it was coming even before I moved, was already poised to block.
Clang!
I thrust at him with explosive speed, but he deflected it effortlessly by aligning his blade with his body.
It was a move impossible unless he'd foreseen the attack's direction and angle.
Clang! Clang-clang! Clang!
The same pattern repeated afterward.
Like a sword dance choreographed in advance, I swung my blade, and he positioned his to meet it precisely where it would land.
Whoosh!
In the midst of it, before I could even extend my sword, Jegal Hyeon's sharp thrust grazed my cheek—half a beat faster.
He'd read exactly where my foot would plant and extended his blade there in advance.
It was insight closer to precognition than mere prediction. His eyes had always read one step ahead, just as they did now.
The sword art he wielded was the Eight Trigrams Three Swords, a simple style that divided the blade's path into eight directions and relied on just three actions: thrust, block, and slash.
Yet with his precise analysis of the battlefield and brilliant mind, even in his previous life, he'd risen to near the pinnacle on those basics alone.
"Your skills as my rival surely go beyond this. No need to hold back."
There were many prodigies in the world, but true geniuses were rare.
Not just proficient in swordsmanship, but a genius in his very being, beyond the ordinary.
Sending a guy like this to a tournament for up-and-comers was taking the joke too far.
"Then I won't hold back."
Time to get a little serious.
After the ongoing exchange, Jegal Hyeon sensed something ominous.
Despite no fancy techniques, Yi Sowol showed not a single opening.
Having risen to chief strategist of the Alliance, he'd faced the swords of countless masters.
Even to him, Yi Sowol's sword delivered a considerable shock.
A blade moved purely by instinct. No rules, no special quirks like Yuseongil's style.
Yet it was more precise and efficient than any sword he knew.
Clang!
Just a subtle twitch of Yi Sowol's fingers, and the sword's trajectory shifted to an entirely different level.
Clang!
The sword energy's form changed with every moment, and as the assaults continued, the blade relentlessly sought his gaps.
Even Jegal Hyeon, whose Foresight Eye pierced through opponents' movements, couldn't fully grasp them all.
And though he'd seen Yi Sowol's sword several times on their journey, it felt like a new style every instant.
"What's wrong? You know this isn't all you've got."
He knew it.
The sword he'd seen before was more electrifying, more overwhelmingly powerful.
Yi Sowol was likely holding back his forms and going easy in this duel.
Yet the gap was still this wide.
He had to admit it now.
The man before him was stronger.
The martial art I wielded, the Blood Heaven Asura Art, was one I'd created over long years, weaving together my own insights and experiences.
And the greatest aid in its creation was no one other than the Mad Demon.
Back then, he agonized over his own art. It stemmed from the revelation he'd reached: to abandon the basics.
To surpass a certain level and reach the pinnacle of martial arts, one had to discard forms.
Block, thrust, slash. His sword, faithful to those three basics, relied too heavily on structure. He needed to return to perfect emptiness once more.
In the end, he never achieved the realm of wielding his sword without form. But instead, he entrusted his insights to me.
And over countless years, I completed his martial legacy.
Clang! Clang-clang! Clang!
Disconcertment flickered across Jegal Hyeon's face as he parried. He must feel like his common sense was being upended.
Righteous sects obsess over endlessly refining fixed forms and styles to boost speed and power.
In contrast, my sword, honed across countless battlefields, relied solely on instinct and sensation. That was why the Mad Demon had entrusted his insights to me in his previous life.
Ultimately, any sword reaches a point where form loses meaning at its peak.
I'm not yet at that peak, but I can show a glimpse.
Blood Heaven Asura Art - Sun Moon Myriad Changes.
One swing birthed two sword paths.
Two swings created four.
The trajectories from intertwining blades filled the arena in a chaotic bloom.
No fixed patterns—just discontinuous strikes layered upon one another.
Even Jegal Hyeon, who read the stars' movements, couldn't track paths spawning new paths.
Slice.
In the end, my sword reached him.
"I concede defeat."
Acknowledging his loss, Jegal Hyeon raised both hands.
The crowd watched in stunned silence. No one had dared imagine a Lower Five Gates nobody beating the Alliance's chief strategist.
"The, the winner! Yi Sowol of the Lower Five Gates!"
The referee, equally incredulous, blankly raised my hand to declare victory.
"W-whoa! Wooaaah!"
Only then did the crowd grasp it, leaping to their feet with roars of cheers.
"Did you see that?"
"No way the Lower Five Gates beat that famous Jegal Hyeon."
"Insanely strong, right?"
The tide had turned.
In an instant, I was a dark horse contender for the championship, and the Lower Five Gates had gone from lowly riffraff to a powerhouse that produced elites.
A small ripple now, but like a drop expanding across a lake, this change would soon upend the entire martial world.
And at its center was none other than me.
"A fine match."
I offered Jegal Hyeon a handshake. He clasped my hand, lost in thought like a man in a daze, then finally spoke.
"Man-Sword Unity... no, beyond even that."
It was nearly a mumble to himself. But the meaning within was impossible to ignore.
Man-Sword Unity was the realm where man and sword become one—the pinnacle of swordsmanship.
That much was fine. Thanks to the insights from reaching swordsmanship's peak in my past life, I'd naturally achieved it the moment I gripped a blade after regression.
Others wouldn't notice, but his genius insight had caught it.
That was within expectations. But no genius could gauge the peak realm from a mere glimpse.
"No idea what you're talking about."
Flustered, I averted my gaze and mumbled an evasion.
"Ah, no need to worry. I won't pry. I'm just grateful to have learned something."
With his usual impassive expression, Jegal Hyeon offered a cupped-fist salute. What an enigmatic man.
Perhaps from this moment, he'd long sensed his own limits. That's how he pierced the meaning in my sword at a glance.
Whatever the case, half the insights in my sword came from him, so it was simply returning to its origin across time.
In his previous life, the Mad Demon became one of the world's top five masters without reaching the formless realm. He stood with me against the Demonic Cult Leader.
Now, before even turning thirty, he'd found the key to shattering the wall he'd never breached before.
What kind of monster would emerge? Unimaginable.
'Do you know, Blood Demon?'
Suddenly, a familiar face seemed to appear behind Jegal Hyeon.
'I thought my life was suffering incarnate. A mind that only calmed when drenched in blood, trapped walking an endless path.'
I didn't know his life story. We just assumed our paths were similar without needing words.
'But facing death, I realized something worth calling happiness remained. Sharing the sword with you—that moment filled me with joy.'
We were mirror images. Maybe that's why we sensed our ends wouldn't be good.
Seeing you pierced through the gut by the Demonic Cult Leader's Finger Snap Art, that's what I thought.
In that instant, though we'd never called each other friend, I realized too late he was my one true friend.
"For me too, crossing swords with you was the greatest joy."
I answered the Mad Demon, answered Jegal Hyeon.
I didn't know what path this life's encounter with me would lead him down.
Perhaps an unprecedented monster named Mad Demon would arise and ravage the martial world.
But right now, I didn't care. Whatever happened, he was my friend—that wouldn't change.
People change.
Yet some things in this world never do.
Just as the sun and moon shine unchanged a myriad times.