Chapter 25
Chapter 25
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Dragon Phoenix Tournament (5)
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Daylight broke.
"We will now begin the semifinals of the Dragon Phoenix Tournament!"
Amid cheers erupting from all directions, Namgung Cheon, Yuseongil, Unhak, and I made our way up to the stage.
With the field narrowed from sixteen to just four, I could finally straighten my shoulders a bit.
Being crammed in among the swarming participants had been stifling, so this felt refreshingly liberating.
"The first semifinal match will be between Yi Sowol of the Lower Five Gates and Namgung Cheon of the Namgung Family!"
"Wooooaaah!"
Was this fate's cruel joke? The guy I'd helped yesterday was now my first opponent.
Namgung Cheon stood before me, his face more resolute than before—like a general heading into battle. It was the expression masters often wore before a duel to the death.
That meant he saw me as a daunting foe he could scarcely overcome.
"I will give this match my all."
He drew his sword, steeling his resolve. It was also his way of saying he'd fight with everything he had, so I shouldn't hold back over yesterday's favor.
Honestly, the urge to smack that annoying face hadn't vanished.
But I knew he wasn't the Namgung Cheon I remembered. At the very least, it was proper to meet him with respect.
"As do I."
I slowly drew my sword. Moon Edge Sword gleamed with a moonlight sheen, revealing its elegant form.
Even before the match began, an overwhelming tension hung between us.
We hadn't clashed blades yet, but the fight had already started. Countless battles had already played out in our minds.
And so, he already knew.
No matter what he tried, he couldn't beat me.
The Namgung Family's signature art, the Emperor Sword Art, lived up to its name as a sword style embodying the king's path.
It was a straightforward sword that believed there were no shortcuts to strength—only honest clashes of skill.
That conviction in the blade was why the Namgung Family stood as a pillar among the Five Great Sects.
A sword technique that suited the word "righteous" better than any other martial art.
That was the Emperor Sword Art.
Clang! Clang clang!
Offense and defense as one, with no tricks or feints—the sword left no openings. It simply radiated the pure skill of its wielder.
But precisely because of that, Namgung Cheon had no chance of beating me, not even a slim one.
Shing!
Without even using sword energy, Namgung Cheon's blade was steadily pushed back.
The gap in experience between us was overwhelming. And with every exchange, that unbridgeable divide only widened.
A sword without variables was invincible once it reached the pinnacle of the world.
But conversely, against an opponent with a clear superiority in skill, it was utterly hopeless.
Unhak's sword, blending feints and real strikes, felt more threatening by comparison.
"Ngh."
Realizing he couldn't win with pure swordsmanship alone, Namgung Cheon wrapped his blade in a brilliant blue sword energy.
Emperor Sword Art, First Form: Heavenly Sword.
Then I would counter with sword energy as well.
Blood Heaven Asura Art: Asura Flash.
Kaboooom!
His sky-blue sword energy clashed with my deep crimson blood-red energy, forming a taiji pattern.
It looked even at a glance, but the heavy feedback through my fingertips told me his internal energy reserves were superior.
Well, of course. I'd been practicing martial arts for less than half a year, while this scion of a prestigious family had devoted twenty years to it. There was no way we'd have equal depth.
The fact that I could even match him in an internal energy contest—after he'd consumed every spirit pill under the sun—was impressive enough.
But if you can't block it, just dodge.
Slash.
I deflected the energy flowing along my blade outward, and Namgung Cheon's sword—locked in perfect balance—suddenly slipped aside.
"What...!"
Namgung Cheon, gripping his sword with all his might, lost his balance and slid along with it.
Shing!
I didn't miss the opening, slashing out, but he barely twisted away, blocking the strike.
Thud! Boom!
Blocking in that near-fall state sent him flying spectacularly, tumbling five zhang away.
He must have taken some internal damage from that blow. He could've given up, but with sheer grit, he stabbed his sword into the ground and staggered to his feet.
I felt a twinge of pity, but I couldn't go easy on him. With respect for the man before me with his steely gaze, I gripped my sword.
One shoulder was dislocated, and his legs trembled, refusing to obey.
The outcome had been decided in a single exchange.
He'd lived his life hailed as a genius, never slacking in his training for a day. Among his peers, he was called the strongest, the man closest to becoming the next world's greatest.
Yet what was this difference?
Namgung Cheon forced his shaking legs to support him as he rose. Staring at the man before him—breathing steadily, utterly calm—he thought:
'This man is a monster.'
From the moment he'd decided to enter the Dragon Phoenix Tournament, he'd never imagined losing. No one in the world could've foreseen a defeat this overwhelming.
His sword hand felt weak; gathering internal energy with his injuries was impossible.
He didn't even know why he'd stood back up. Why challenge this awe-inspiring man again?
Clang! Shing!
In his haze of doubt, Namgung Cheon silently parried Yi Sowol's strikes.
It was almost instinctual struggling. But with each block, a certain rhythm emerged in his movements.
'This guy...'
The man once called the Blood Demon had the power to end the match at any moment. But he held back because he saw potential there.
For a martial artist, enlightenment was life itself. Namgung Cheon was gaining insight in what could be called his first true defeat.
Clang!
The more they clashed, the more Yi Sowol's blade—previously just deflecting—began to waver. It was proof he'd taken some impact, unable to fully redirect the strikes.
Though battered and lacking full power, a glint of brilliance shone in Namgung Cheon's swordplay.
"Khk, kuhk!"
But it was fleeting.
His injuries caused his qi to reverse, and he spat blood.
Yi Sowol knew it too, raising his blade and waiting.
"One more exchange. Let's settle it there."
It was his way of showing consideration—and reverence.
Namgung Cheon nodded and took his stance.
He unleashed the best strike he could manage in his state.
Emperor Sword Art, Ninth Form: One Light Splits the Heavens.
Blood Heaven Asura Art: Asura Flash.
Kaboom!
The air rang out as the two swords collided.
The explosive roar had the audience covering their ears, eyes glued to the stage.
Boom!
And the victor was decided.
Namgung Cheon's weakened sword flew from his hand, embedding in the ground.
Yi Sowol's blade, proving its supremacy, calmly hovered at his throat.
"Winner: Yi Sowol of the Lower Five Gates!"
"Wooow! Wooaaaah!"
The audience, who had watched swallowing dryly, snapped to life at the judge's call, erupting in cheers.
Some cheered Namgung Cheon's name for his unyielding will to the end, others gazed at Yi Sowol with admiration for his strength.
All of them, swept up in the match, applauded louder than ever.
"Well fought."
I extended a hand to Namgung Cheon, collapsed on the ground. Though defeated, he looked somehow relieved.
"Thank you for the valuable lesson."
He'd realized midway that I'd been holding back.
I wasn't sure if helping him grow was the right call, but I couldn't ignore a martial artist on the verge of enlightenment.
Even if he strayed down the wrong path like in my previous life.
Well, if he went astray this time, I'd just lop off his head myself. No big deal.
"Next match: Yuseongil of the Swift Sword Sect versus Unhak of the Huashan Sect!"
And so the second semifinal began.
Yuseongil ascended the stage with his usual serene expression. In contrast, Unhak's face showed tension.
Was he intimidated by the man who'd won every match with a single swift strike?
But yeah, it made sense. Just as Namgung Cheon couldn't beat me, Unhak had no chance against Yuseongil either.
"Begin the match!"
At the judge's call, they took their stances. Yuseongil in his usual preparatory draw stance, Unhak holding his sword tip horizontal, seemingly ready to thrust.
A thrust.
Extending the body forward for a stab offered greater reach than a swing.
Once Yuseongil drew, victory was impossible. So he planned to end it with a thrust's range before that.
Smart judgment.
But bad matchup.
Flutter!
With the judge's hand dropping, Yuseongil charged at Unhak.
His speed was like a flash of light.
Flash!
But Unhak's reflexes were no slouch.
Tracking Yuseongil's invisible speed, Unhak's sword pierced in.
A truly exquisite strike.
Up to that moment, it looked like Unhak would win.
Click.
But the next instant, Yuseongil's sword touched Unhak's throat first.
Unhak's strike was perfect. A half-beat faster, exploiting the gap—it was his best possible attack.
However, it was merely a reactive sword, devoid of any subtlety.
The Plum Blossom Sword Art relied on幻劍—illusory swords. If Unhak could have unleashed an illusion strong enough to counter lightless swordplay, the winner might have been different.
But illusions meant nothing against overwhelming speed. What use were tricks against a swift sword that allowed no exchange?
In the end, Unhak fought without his prized illusions. It was his best judgment—and his worst choice.
Like giving up on winning from the start.
"I concede defeat."
Unhak accepted the result as a matter of course.
"Winner: Yuseongil of the Swift Sword Sect!"
Thus, the two finalists were set.
"The final will be held when both competitors are in peak condition. Whether in one day or seven, please name the date you prefer..."
"Right now is fine."
Yuseongil, who had reached the finals with just three swift strikes, showed no need for rest—he was ready immediately.
"I'm good too. Let's start right away."
And dragging things out wasn't my style either.
"Both entrants have confirmed their readiness, so the Dragon Phoenix Tournament final will proceed right here, right now!"
"Wooooaaah!"
The fired-up crowd went wild.
Holding the final without even a shichen break after the semis was unprecedented in the tournament's history.
And the finalists were from the Swift Sword Sect and Lower Five Gates, not some prestigious house? Where else could you find entertainment like this?
Yuseongil and I ascended the stage without hesitation, responding to the audience's fervor.