I Am the One Who Will Become Mount Hua’s Sect Leader (1)
Shaolin was swallowed by silence.
“I….”
“The Pang Family….”
The crowd, who had been ready to erupt into cheers, was left speechless by the scene unfolding before their eyes.
It wasn’t surprising that Mount Hua’s disciple Baek Cheon had defeated Pang Dowan of the Pang Family.
Hadn’t Mount Hua’s disciples already proven their strength yesterday? Most of those gathered here had expected a clean victory for Mount Hua from the start.
And yet the reason no one could speak now was because what had just happened on the ring was too shocking to absorb at once.
If Baek Cheon had simply blown Pang Dowan away with a single blow, this would not have felt quite so strange. But Baek Cheon hadn’t merely knocked him aside—he had beaten him like a dog.
Anyone who watched that could only come to one conclusion.
Is Mount Hua really that strong?
Is that Pang Dowan from the Pang Family getting helplessly pounded without landing a single proper strike?
When Mount Hua’s disciples sent opponents flying with a single strike, it felt like watching a lively and satisfying performance, something easy to laugh at and enjoy. But the duel before them now felt different.
Baek Cheon had suppressed his opponent completely through sheer skill.
With no room for excuses whatsoever.
Seeing Pang Dowan collapsed on the ground, frothing at the mouth and trembling, reality hit all at once.
“Wait, is Mount Hua actually going to win this?”
“N-no way… Still, there’s the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Families.”
“Isn’t the guy lying there one of the Five Great Families?”
“Uhh… well, yeah.”
Even the bystanders were beginning to feel it now.
Perhaps the storm Mount Hua had brought would not end as merely a storm.
“The reaction isn’t quite what I expected.”
Baek Cheon shrugged and walked toward Chung Myung.
“At least this should’ve shown them enough.”
“Krrr!”
At his calm remark, Chung Myung grinned.
“Damn, Dongryong, you’ve grown up. Even acting all smug now?”
Baek Cheon’s eyebrow twitched faintly.
“I’ve always been good at acting smug.”
“That’s nothing to be proud of.”
“I’m not proud of it.”
Baek Cheon coughed into his fist and cooled the flush that had risen to his face.
“Anyway, it’s quieter than I thought. Did I mess up somehow?”
“Mess up, my ass.”
Chung Myung glanced around. The stunned crowd’s eyes were fixed on Mount Hua’s disciples.
Seeing that reaction, the corners of Chung Myung’s mouth curled up.
Yeah. This shouldn’t just be something they laugh at and enjoy.
They had to see it clearly with their own eyes.
How strong Mount Hua was. How outstanding Mount Hua’s disciples were.
Everything they witnessed here would spread across the world through their mouths.
Krrr. So this is how it feels to live long enough to see a day like this.
Chung Myung wiped at the corner of his eye with his sleeve. Years of hardship flashed before him.
Damn it… I really dragged those little brats all the way here?
Thinking back to the day he first returned to Mount Hua, it felt as though tears might come flooding down like the Yangtze.
Had he not cajoled, soothed, patted, and encouraged those worthless little runts who were no better than a den of bandits and dragged them this far?
And now Mount Hua’s disciples could stand anywhere in the world with their heads held high as true martial artists.
Chung Myung tilted his head and looked up at the sky.
Senior brother! Sect Leader senior brother! Are you watching? I’ve done this much!
So praise me already!
- You’re still nowhere close, you brat!
Hah? This old bastard?
Chung Myung glared.
You should praise a person when they’ve done something well!
And what do you mean, look down on our kids? Our kids are stronger than the old Mount Hua brats…
“Huh?”
Chung Myung tilted his head.
Stronger?
Wait, they really are?
Had the current Mount Hua finally caught up to the Mount Hua of old?
No, absolutely not.
No matter how much momentum the present Mount Hua had gained, if one thought of Mount Hua’s golden age—the era when it was called the Plum Blossom Sword School—it was still far behind.
But if one compared only the second-generation disciples of that time with the second-generation disciples of now?
We’d win.
Chung Myung cocked his head.
No matter how he thought about it, from any angle, it didn’t seem like they could lose.
There was no doubt that Mount Hua of the past had been a sect competing for the title of number one under heaven. Even aside from Chung Myung, it had unquestionably ranked among the top five in the world. Naturally, its second-generation disciples had also stood at the very peak of the martial world.
Compared to now…
Yes, Wudang!
The present Wudang Sect’s place in the martial world was probably similar to Mount Hua’s place back then.
Of course, the second-generation disciples of Mount Hua back then still seemed stronger than Wudang’s second-generation disciples now, but whatever!
Our kids are beating the hell out of Wudang’s second-generation disciples, aren’t they?
It was exactly that sort of crushing superiority.
When Chung Myung, thinking back to the second-generation disciples of the era when he had made his name as the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, mentally set them against the second-generation disciples of now, his mouth slowly fell open.
Wow. They’d win, wouldn’t they?
Come to think of it, it wasn’t strange at all.
They had gone through hell and back to refine Jaso-dan, and during the years when their skills were soaring, they had trained together with Chung Myung of all people.
If they weren’t strong, that would have been the strange thing.
Chung Myung glanced at Baek Cheon.
This guy’s much stronger than the sect leader senior brother was at this age, isn’t he?
As if all that hardship had been worthwhile, the strongest Mount Hua Sect in history—one that surpassed even the Mount Hua of the past—was being forged before his eyes.
In awe of his own achievements, Chung Myung smiled with satisfaction.
But as soon as he did, Baek Cheon instead frowned as though growing uneasy.
“...Why are you looking at me like that? You’re making me nervous.”
“No, no. You did great.”
“...If I did something wrong, just say so.”
“I said you did great.”
“That’s exactly why it sounds weird!”
Dragged forcibly out of his moment of emotion, Chung Myung glared back.
“What, so now I’m giving praise and you’ve got a problem with that too?”
“Because you never do things like this!”
“Tch!”
In the end, when Chung Myung and Baek Cheon started scrapping, the disciples rushed in and pulled them apart.
Meanwhile, the leaders of the Nine Sects, watching from a somewhat distant platform, let out low, secret sighs.
How on earth is this turning out like this?
The Pang Family’s blade was perfect. And yet he overpowered it with brute strength?
While the crowd focused on the outcome, the sect leaders focused on the process.
Hubei’s Pang Family.
A prestigious clan recognized throughout the world for its sword technique centered on weight and overwhelming force.
Their crushing, domineering blade arts had always been a subject of caution. Yet to think that a Mount Hua disciple, known for his swift sword, would suppress the Pang Family’s blade with strength alone.
That thick, heavy dao—especially one leaping into the air and crashing down with internal energy behind it—could only be deflected by a sword if there was at least a twofold difference in skill.
What kind of training could possibly make that happen?
Baek Cheon. Baek Cheon.
What Mount Hua’s disciples had shown so far was impressive enough, but Baek Cheon’s display was on another level entirely. In the minds of the sect leaders, not only Chung Myung’s name but Baek Cheon’s as well was firmly etched in place.
Chung Myung, the Mount Hua Divine Dragon, and Baek Cheon, the Righteous Sword of Mount Hua.
Two talents so rare that most sects could not produce even one in a generation.
Their faces grew grave as they reassessed Mount Hua’s strength. No matter how they looked at it, none of them could easily think of anyone within their own sects who could match Baek Cheon’s performance.
Which meant that, if one limited the comparison to second- and third-generation disciples, Mount Hua had already stood shoulder to shoulder with the world’s great sects.
Their gazes drifted toward Hyun Jong, seated farther back.
“Hmm.”
It was an odd feeling.
Until a moment ago, it had not bothered them in the slightest that Mount Hua’s Hyun Jong was sitting behind them.
But now that things had turned out this way, the situation felt different.
It feels like we’re being watched from behind.
What had become uncomfortable was the fact that they could not see the expression on Hyun Jong’s face as he observed them from behind.
“Heh heh heh. Congratulations, Sect Leader. If that child becomes the sect leader of the next generation, Mount Hua’s future will be very bright indeed.”
Ja O-gae, an elder of the Beggars’ Sect acting in the place of the beggar chief, showed his teeth in a grin.
“You flatter us.”
“No, no. To see so many rare talents in one sect—talents that most sects could only dream of producing once—Mount Hua’s misfortune must finally be over.”
“You are too kind. Still….”
Hyun Jong replied with a gentle smile.
“I can at least say with confidence that those children would not bring shame to Mount Hua no matter where they were placed under heaven.”
“Ohoho.”
Hyun Jong’s expression twitched strangely.
Th-this is no easy thing either.
To lie so casually in the name of being a Daoist made his stomach clench.
What?
Not bring shame?
Honestly, I’m a little embarrassed.
Not by their skill.
By their character.
Hyun Jong’s face twitched.
Now that their skill no longer lags behind anyone, all that’s left is for them to have a proper Daoist temperament….
Watching Baek Cheon and Chung Myung yelling and grappling as if the whole world were not listening, he could only sigh.
I asked only that they grow up healthy.
Had they not grown up too healthy?
And surely “grow up healthy” had never meant “ruin everything else except the healthy part”….
“Congratulations, Sect Leader.”
Tang Gun-ak offered the words lightly, but his eyes clearly said, I understand how you feel, Sect Leader.
Hyun Jong felt a stinging sensation for some reason.
Ja O-gae chuckled.
“At this rate, it won’t take Mount Hua long at all to recover its former glory.”
“That is still a distant matter.”
“Distant? Looking at those children, it doesn’t seem distant at all. Hahaha. At this rate, I’m starting to worry that one day the Nine Great Sects might be called the Ten Sects instead.”
The faces of the Nine Sects’ leaders, who had been listening, stiffened slightly.
It was the kind of comment that made even people accustomed to hiding their emotions show clear signs of disturbance.
“Oh dear, oh dear. This old man is making a fuss again. The beggar chief told me to keep my mouth shut and just sit here quietly. Heh heh heh.”
Ja O-gae smiled ambiguously and shifted himself back a little.
That old fox….
Someone like Ja O-gae would never let words slip by accident. This was clearly a jab at the Nine Sects’ leaders present here.
“Khmm.”
“Ahem!”
Uncomfortable coughs rose from here and there.
The reason they were genuinely unsettled was because everyone knew the old man’s words might not be complete nonsense.
Of course, it was impossible now. That much was obvious. What could children who had only just become second-generation disciples possibly do?
But….
What if those children eventually reached the age of leading Mount Hua?
That would be something impossible to ignore.
Heo Do-jin-in’s eyes lowered.
What he most wanted to achieve was for Wudang to catch up to Shaolin during his own tenure.
Then what was the one thing he least wanted to see?
Mount Hua becoming a threat to Wudang, probably.
In the past, Mount Hua and Wudang had been rivals not only for the title of number one sword school under heaven, but even for number one daoist sect.
Of course, the world tended to view Wudang as the higher sect, but who could look kindly on a sect that, no matter how many times it was pushed back, kept clinging to your heels and baring its fangs?
It looks like we may need to take decisive measures.
The eyes of Heo Do-jin-in and the other leaders of the Nine Sects grew heavy.
Slap, slap, slap, slap.
“……”
Slap, slap, slap, slap, slap!
“……”
A vein throbbed on Baek Cheon’s forehead.
“Chung Myung.”
“Yeah?”
“...You’ve been eating nonstop since you got here.”
“Want some?”
Chung Myung held out the snacks he’d been munching on beside him.
“That’s not what I meant!”
Chung Myung snorted.
“When you’re watching something like this, you’re supposed to eat. And if you’re going to fight, you need to eat well. Properly.”
Why the hell do you need to eat properly?
After kicking the face of a perfectly healthy opponent in the second bout and leaving him too battered to eat porridge, of all things.
“Anyway, with so many people watching, at least try to look serious.”
“Now? Seriously?”
“...I admit it feels a bit late, but isn’t there a saying that the best time to start is when you think it’s too late?”
“Tsk. You really are taking it easy, aren’t you, my martial nephew.”
Chung Myung clicked his tongue and smirked, then jerked his chin toward the ring.
“But martial nephew, this isn’t the time to be so laid-back. Starting today, the real ones are probably coming out.”
“Huh?”
That was when it happened.
Kwaaaaaaang!
A massive explosion rang out from the duel platform.
The Mount Hua disciples all snapped their heads to one side.
A white-robed man holding a gigantic greatsword stood in an arrogant stance, staring down his opponent.
On the other side, a martial artist with a wrecked appearance stared blankly at his sword, which had been split clean in two.
“Oh! That’s Namgung’s Danyak Sword!”
“Of course! That’s Namgung Dohu! As expected of the Namgung Family!”
The white-robed man glanced briefly toward the area where Baek Cheon and Chung Myung were standing.
“Danyak Sword….”
Baek Cheon let out a low groan.
To cut down an opponent’s sword was exceedingly difficult—and also exceedingly cruel. It showed the difference in skill with brutal clarity.
And now Namgung Dohu, having already lost interest in the opponent he had defeated, had shifted his gaze toward Mount Hua’s disciples.
“That’s interesting.”
Chung Myung grinned.
“See? I told you the real ones would start showing up from today.”
“...You mean from now on?”
Chung Myung shrugged.
“Shaolin’s got its own ideas. They probably pushed the ones meant to play the lead roles toward the back. Makes it more dramatic that way.”
Baek Cheon frowned.
Taking that statement in reverse meant that, in Shaolin’s eyes, Mount Hua had merely been the early act—those who came out first to warm up the crowd.
“There. Look over there too.”
“Hm?”
“A familiar face, right?”
Baek Cheon’s expression froze in an instant.
“Jin Geum-ryong of the Southern Edge Sect!”
With the call from Gong Cho, Jin Geum-ryong’s figure rose onto the platform and entered Baek Cheon’s sight.
Brother….
Unconsciously, Baek Cheon bit down hard on his lower lip.