A Day They Would Never Forget (4)
Jin Geum-ryong stared at Chung Myung in a daze.
What the hell is that brat talking about now?
He wanted a bout?
A round of challenges between Mount Hua’s third-generation disciples and Southern Edge’s second-generation disciples? And as a relay match, no less?
Was he seriously claiming they could settle this like that?
“Th...!”
Jin Geum-ryong ground his teeth.
There was being arrogant, and then there was this. This was the sort of proposal only someone who looked at Southern Edge’s second-generation disciples as if they were scraps of filthy cloth could make!
Mount Hua’s third-generation disciples might have won cleanly, but what was a generation rank for, if not exactly that?
A generation rank existed because no one could simply leap over it through talent or effort alone. If the gap between ranks was not upheld, the hierarchy of the sect itself would collapse. That was precisely why so many prestigious sects guarded their generations so strictly and staggered the times at which they took in disciples.
No matter how strong Mount Hua’s third-generation disciples had become, that was still a matter between those generations. A match between second- and third-generation disciples was something he had never once heard of in his life.
Merely being offered such a challenge was humiliating beyond words.
“You little worm—!”
Just as Jin Geum-ryong clenched his jaw and was about to explode, Sama Seung grabbed his shoulder.
“Calm yourself, Elder.”
“But—”
Sama Seung’s face twisted slightly.
“Our dignity is already in the dirt. If we refuse this proposal now in the name of preserving face, they’ll only say we ran away because we were scared.”
Jin Geum-ryong bit his lip.
He couldn’t deny it. That damned bastard would absolutely spread rumors like that. If the proposal had at least been polite or mild, they would have had grounds to refuse it. But with the way he was openly provoking them, how were they supposed to say no?
It was the kind of challenge they couldn’t accept, but couldn’t reject either.
Sama Seung lifted his head and looked at Chung Myung.
“You called yourself Chung Myung, did you not?”
“Yeah. You couldn’t remember before, but now you can, huh?”
“I heard your proposal well enough. But I don’t think you are in any position to speak for Mount Hua when making demands of Southern Edge.”
“Then ask the sect leader directly. What, is that too hard for you?”
“This—”
He was the sort of person who could make the same reply and still turn someone’s stomach inside out.
“I am questioning your manner. In all things, there is an order to be observed. Is that not how Mount Hua teaches its disciples?”
It was a terribly petty attack, but an effective one. If you wanted to sour the mood, then attack with age and etiquette. It was an old and reliable tactic, wasn’t it?
“I don’t think Mount Hua taught me that, but I only entered the sect not long ago, so I haven’t learned everything properly yet. I grew up as an orphan with no parents, so I’m a little lacking in some areas. Please try to understand.”
“Wha...?”
Why in the world had parents come into this?
What was that supposed to make him look like?
While Sama Seung shut his mouth like a stuffed fish and hurriedly searched for a reply, Chung Myung looked toward Hwang Mun-yak and asked, “What do you think?”
“Ah, well, I’m fine with all that, but why are you asking us...?”
“Because aside from Mount Hua and Southern Edge, the only people here are you all. We need an objective judgment.”
And someone had to set the stage.
If the local notables were brought into this, Southern Edge would not be able to refuse the match without losing face. In the martial world, backing down because you were afraid of your opponent was a humiliation beyond measure.
Hwang Mun-yak cleared his throat and glanced at the figures seated behind him before asking, “What say you?”
“Hmm. Fair or not, if we get to see more of this delightful bout, we would be pleased.”
“In truth, I am curious myself. I want to see how well those third-generation disciples fare against Southern Edge’s second-generation disciples. This is most exciting.”
Hwang Mun-yak nodded.
Of course they would agree. The more measuring sticks, the better. If Mount Hua’s third-generation disciples were put against Southern Edge’s second-generation disciples, their true ability would become clear at once.
“This side very much wishes for the match, young Daoist.”
Chung Myung nodded.
“Then all that’s left is for both sides to agree. Sect Leader! Sect Leader, what do you think?”
Hyun Jong stared at Chung Myung with a face of utter disbelief.
“What is that rascal trying to do now?”
As Hyun Jong looked flustered, Un Geom spoke softly.
“Please allow it, Sect Leader.”
“Allow it? You want me to permit this absurdity?”
“He is a clever child.”
“...”
Un Geom said with firm conviction, “He may be somewhat excessive, but in all the times I have spoken with that child, I have never once felt that he was foolish. On the contrary, there were times I felt as though he was toying with me from several steps above my head. Did you not yourself say that the child seemed to possess a strange depth?”
“I did say that, but...”
It was true. Chung Myung did have that sort of quality.
Like an old man trapped in the shell of a child.
“A child like that could not possibly be unaware of the very concerns we are having now. He must have a plan, so please trust him. More than anything...”
Un Geom drew in a deep breath and smiled faintly.
“What possible harm is there in losing now? We have nothing left to lose.”
Hyun Jong looked at him quietly.
There was certainty in those eyes.
After confirming the gazes of the other elders, Hyun Jong gave a heavy nod.
If, as Un Geom says, all of this is taking place under that child’s plan...
Then the rest could be left to him as well.
He wondered if he was expecting too much of the boy, but Mount Hua had nothing left to lose anyway.
Even if they were utterly crushed in the following bouts, they still would not squander even half of what they had already earned.
Hyun Jong settled his resolve and spoke in a thunderous voice.
“Mount Hua agrees.”
Instantly, gasps erupted from the spectators.
“Oh! Now Southern Edge can’t back down!”
“We’re seeing something truly fun today. I’ll make sure everyone hears about what I witnessed. Who would’ve thought such a thing would happen when I only came to see the Southern Edge brats?”
“Mount Hua is Mount Hua. Why do you think they’ve been called a prestigious sect for so many years? They may rise and fall, but they do not collapse.”
Listening to the notables, who had already changed their tune, Hwang Mun-yak let out a bitter smile.
Bat-faced turncoats.
But that was the nature of merchants—and the general nature of people. Who wouldn’t want to build ties with those who had power and future prospects?
In other words, Mount Hua had begun to look like a place worth doing business with.
So then... how will Southern Edge respond?
If Hwang Mun-yak had been in their shoes, he would never have accepted the challenge. There was no profit in it. But if he were in Sama Seung’s position?
He’d have to accept it.
For a martial artist, unlike a merchant, there was one thing they could never surrender, no matter how much else they might be forced to give up.
That thing was pride.
There was no way a martial artist could ever bear hearing that he had been given an advantageous proposal and still tucked his tail between his legs to retreat. So naturally...
“Then Southern Edge agrees as well!”
Just as expected!
That was exactly how this had to go!
Hwang Mun-yak watched the two camps with lively interest.
Yoon Jong jumped onto the platform with a horrified expression. Then, in a panic, he grabbed Chung Myung and dragged him away.
“What are you doing?”
As Chung Myung narrowed his eyes and protested, Yoon Jong shoved him into a corner and whispered sharply, “You idiot! What are you trying to do?”
“Do what?”
“How are we supposed to beat their second-generation disciples? Those are Southern Edge’s second-generation disciples! And one of them is Jin Geum-ryong! He’s the so-called top genius of Shaanxi!”
“Oh? Really?”
“D-don’t tell me... can we actually beat that man too? Does that mean we’ve grown that strong?”
“Senior brother.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you think people should have a little thing called shame?”
“...”
“I pull you out of the water, and you turn around and smash me over the head with the bundle? What do you mean, beat who?”
“N-no... I was just asking. Just in case.”
He had allowed himself a tiny bit of hope. Just a little.
“Don’t even dream about it. We can’t win.”
Especially not against Jin Geum-ryong.
If it were some other second-generation disciple, well—maybe Jo Gul could give him a fight. Maybe. But even that would not be easy. And the moment Jin Geum-ryong stepped forward, Mount Hua’s third-generation disciples would be smashed without accomplishing a thing.
What Chung Myung had taught them worked on opponents of their own age, sure, but when the gap was too great, fundamentals or no fundamentals, there was no answer.
“Th-then what are you going to do?”
Chung Myung grinned.
“The plan’s simple, so—”
“It’s a relay match!” Sama Seung said firmly. “It’s obvious what they’re aiming for. They’re trying to win even one bout through a relay. Nine third-generation disciples will go one after another to wear our people down, and then the last one will secure a sure victory.”
Sama Seung instantly saw the trap hidden in Chung Myung’s words.
The winner kept fighting.
In other words, the one who didn’t lose could not stop. If they kept winning in succession, they would be forced to continue the bouts while steadily wasting their stamina.
“That brat probably thought Jin Geum-ryong would be their spearhead.”
Jin Geum-ryong would lead the charge. Mount Hua’s nine third-generation disciples would wear down Jin Geum-ryong’s strength. And then, at the end, Chung Myung would step forward and defeat the exhausted Jin Geum-ryong.
Nine defeats and a single victory.
But that single victory would be worth more than the nine defeats combined. The fact that Southern Edge’s top young talent, Jin Geum-ryong, had been defeated by Mount Hua’s third-generation disciple would send shockwaves through every martial family in Shaanxi.
Sama Seung gritted his teeth.
“Cunning bastard.”
He turned to Jin Geum-ryong.
“You know what you need to do.”
Jin Geum-ryong nodded.
“As long as I do not lose, that is all that matters. Ten, twenty—no matter how many they send, I will face them all.”
“No.”
“...Pardon?”
Sama Seung shook his head.
“There is no need to leap directly into the enemy’s trap.”
That left Jin Geum-ryong looking distinctly unhappy.
“But—”
“What merit is there in you personally stepping forward to cut down ten opponents? It would only prove that you had no choice but to confront Mount Hua’s third-generation disciples yourself.”
Jin Geum-ryong clenched his lip hard.
There was certainly logic in that. As it stood, this fight was tilted in a way that could be interpreted any number of ways.
“You will take command.”
“...Yes, I understand.”
“As for the spearhead...”
Sama Seung turned and pointed to one man.
“You go, Liu Bai.”
“Yes, Elder! I won’t disappoint you.”
“It’s fine if you don’t win them all. If your strength gives out, just come down. But under no circumstances should you let them see you fall to their swords. Understand?”
“Yes!”
Sama Seung ground his teeth.
If Liu Bai could defeat them all, that would be best. Even if he could not, it would be best if he stopped after two or so.
Then the second wave should be Jong Seo-han. Geum-ryong can’t go out there, so Jong Seo-han is the best choice. That Yi Song-baek brat has been too sharp lately...
“Huh?”
At that moment, startled breaths came from his left and right. Sama Seung reflexively lifted his head.
“...W-what?”
And then Sama Seung saw it.
Chung Myung, who had been dragged to the corner of the platform, was strolling back out with a wooden sword slung casually over his shoulder.
“What plan? Screw the plan. I’m the plan.”
Chung Myung snickered as he lowered his sword.
“I’ll make you a day you’ll never forget. Southern Edge.”
It was a declaration calm as still water—and burning hot underneath.