I Am the One Who Will Become Mount Hua’s Sect Leader (2)
His face was frozen stiff.
Perhaps because he looked thinner than he had at the Hwajong Jihoe, Jin Geum-ryong’s expression felt colder than ever.
The face that had always seemed brimming with composure was now sealed over as if under a sheet of ice, and even his slow, measured stride had sharpened.
It was as though his very body was saying this was what a blade’s killing intent looked like.
Big brother.
Baek Cheon looked at Jin Geum-ryong with mixed feelings.
His brother.
And once, his goal.
There had been a time when Jin Geum-ryong had been an insurmountable wall to him, a summit he would one day have to climb.
But in the mere three years since, their relationship had changed so much.
Step. Step.
Jin Geum-ryong’s gaze, as he mounted the arena, was fixed on Baek Cheon—no, more precisely, on Chung Myung, seated beside him.
“Where do you think you’re looking?”
The opponent, who had already climbed onto the platform and was waiting there, bristled and barked out his annoyance.
Even after hearing that, Jin Geum-ryong didn’t look away. He simply glared at Chung Myung with eyes simmering coldly with heat.
“Hey! Jin Geum…!”
Without even turning his head, Jin Geum-ryong cut him off with an icy snap.
“Don’t interrupt me, brat.”
“...What?”
Wang Sang-bo of the Qingcheng Sect, the one called a brat, glared at Jin Geum-ryong with enraged eyes.
“You’re unbearably arrogant! We’ll see whether you’re still saying that after you face my sword.”
Only then did Jin Geum-ryong’s gaze shift to his opponent.
Then he twisted his mouth and smiled.
It was a smile so chilling it sent a shiver up the spine.
Wang Sang-bo, goosebumps erupting over his whole body, took a step back before he even realized it.
Jin Geum-ryong’s lips parted.
“Go ahead and see.”
“You…!”
“No need to worry. I’ll handle you properly. I know it too.”
Jin Geum-ryong’s gaze returned to Chung Myung.
Seeing Chung Myung idly nibbling on a mooncake, his mouth curved even higher.
“If I beat you and keep climbing... if I beat every bastard I meet on the way up, then I’ll be able to meet that demon bastard again.”
“……”
Overwhelmed by Jin Geum-ryong’s frigid, crawling intent, Wang Sang-bo couldn’t even reply. He only tightened his grip on the sword in his hand.
Sensing that the mood on the arena had turned grim, Gong Cho’s brow furrowed slightly.
Why is a Southern Edge disciple’s killing intent so dense?
It was like the murderous aura that clung to the killers of the black path.
Gong Cho forcibly pushed down the unease creeping up inside him. In any case, he couldn’t stop the match for a reason like this.
“Begin!”
Instead of retreating as he had before, he signaled the start and kept a proper distance, ready to rush onto the arena at once if anything happened.
Jin Geum-ryong slowly drew his sword.
Schrrrnk.
It was only the sound of a blade being unsheathed, but for some reason it cut unpleasantly into the ear, almost sinister.
At that disturbing sensation, Wang Sang-bo’s shoulders hunched a little more.
“Dandy!”
Noticing that Wang Sang-bo was in bad shape, the Qingcheng martial artists shouted words of encouragement.
Only then did Wang Sang-bo give a slight nod and settle into his stance.
As the body follows the heart, so too does the heart follow the body. Once he took up a familiar sword stance, the pressure that had been pinning him down slowly began to loosen.
There’s nothing to be afraid of.
He might be that Jin Geum-ryong of Southern Edge, but it had already been two years since the man’s fame had shone bright.
Wasn’t he the one who had vanished from the world’s ears after being defeated by the Mount Hua Divine Dragon?
Two years is enough time to shake the world.
In their age group, a reputation from two years ago was little more than empty talk. What mattered was current skill.
He forced down the creeping dread and looked away from it.
At last, he raised his sword and pointed it at Jin Geum-ryong.
“I’ll learn a few thin—”
“There’s nothing for you to learn from me.”
Jin Geum-ryong let his sword hang low.
“You probably won’t even know how you lost.”
Wang Sang-bo’s face hardened, and he drew up his inner force. There was no need to waste words on someone who wouldn’t understand them.
He was just about to lunge at Jin Geum-ryong when—
“Have you ever seen a sea of petals?”
“……”
What is he talking about?
Wang Sang-bo frowned. No matter how he looked at it, this man wasn’t normal…
“I’ll show you.”
Jin Geum-ryong raised his sword and pointed it at Wang Sang-bo.
Fffrrr.
At the same time, the tip of his sword began to tremble, wavering like a reed in the wind.
Petals?
In that instant, Wang Sang-bo saw it.
White petals blooming from the tip of Jin Geum-ryong’s sword.
One blossom, then two, floated up into the air.
Sword qi? There’s a sword like that in Southern Edge…?
But there was no more time to think.
The petals that had bloomed surged toward him all at once, carried by a fierce wind.
“Gah!”
Wang Sang-bo involuntarily sucked in a breath.
In an instant, his vision was swallowed by a blizzard of white petals. As he tried to stumble back, he found that his rear, too, was already filled with them.
Front, back, left, right.
Everywhere he looked, there were petals. It was as though the world itself had been filled to the brim with them.
No, no!
Realizing he’d be taken apart without even getting a chance to fight back, Wang Sang-bo gritted his teeth and lashed out with his sword at the whirling storm of petals before him.
But—
Clang!
The petals, delicate and light as they seemed, knocked his sword aside as if they were forged from steel.
Wang Sang-bo’s eyes flew wide in shock.
W-what…?
And then—
Fwoooosh!
The petals that had surrounded him rushed at him all at once.
“Aaaaaaaaagh!”
A pitiful scream rang out.
White petal-shaped sword qi stabbed into Wang Sang-bo’s body from all over.
“Enough!”
Paaaaang!
With a thunderous shout, a fist wind came flying from somewhere and blew away the petals attacking Wang Sang-bo.
“Kgh….”
Wang Sang-bo staggered twice with unfocused eyes, then collapsed onto the floor.
Thud.
His blue martial uniform was instantly dyed red with blood.
“You…!”
Gong Cho, having rushed onto the arena, glared at Jin Geum-ryong with murderous fury in his eyes. But the scolding could wait.
First, he had to inspect the injured man’s condition.
“Hmm…”
After checking Wang Sang-bo’s injuries, Gong Cho bit his lip slightly.
Seeing that, Jin Geum-ryong gave a cold smile.
“You needn’t be so angry over a few cuts to the flesh.”
“……”
Gong Cho glared at him, his eyes blazing with indignation.
Jin Geum-ryong’s killing intent was real. And his ruthlessness in not holding back even in a spar was real too.
Yet as he said, Wang Sang-bo had only sustained a lot of shallow cuts.
If Gong Cho hadn’t rushed in, the outcome might have been different, but there was not enough justification to disqualify him for this alone.
“Are you of Southern Edge trying to walk the path of tyranny?”
“Do you really need to speak of tyranny over catching one brat? I’m simply doing my best.”
Gong Cho clenched his lip hard.
Jin Geum-ryong tilted the corner of his mouth again and asked leisurely, “The result?”
“...This match is Southern Edge’s Jin Geum-ryong’s victory.”
As soon as the declaration fell, a great roar of cheers surged across the arena.
Gong Cho’s brow creased.
But there was no point blaming the cheering crowd. From where they sat, they wouldn’t be able to see it: neither Jin Geum-ryong’s killing intent nor the cruelty hidden in his technique.
To those watching from afar, all they would see was Jin Geum-ryong striking Wang Sang-bo down in one breathtaking flash of swordplay.
Listening to the cheers with calm indifference, Jin Geum-ryong slowly turned his head. Where his gaze landed, of course, was Chung Myung.
A blade-sharp stare.
Receiving that gaze thick with hatred and malice, Chung Myung shrugged and snorted.
Yoon Jong, sitting beside him, said, “Looks like he’s looking at you.”
“Yeah.”
“Doesn’t he seem a lot stronger than he did at the Hwajong Jihoe?”
“Probably.”
“You don’t even care?”
“Me?”
“……”
Yoon Jong shook his head. Honestly, it would be stranger if this guy cared about Jin Geum-ryong. He was the sort who wouldn’t even care if the Southern Edge Sect Leader himself showed up.
Chung Myung popped the mooncake into his mouth.
Chewing the mooncake with loud crunches, he couldn’t help but snort.
He’s completely broken.
Jin Geum-ryong’s sword had become twice as flashy and twice as sharp as before. Judging by appearances alone, he had grown several times stronger than he had been at the Hwajong Jihoe.
On the surface, that is.
But that was the result of chasing an illusion.
The Southern Edge sword was never supposed to be flashy, nor sharp.
It was a sword that held fast to the right path with stubborn steadiness. That was the sword of Southern Edge.
With a sword that merely imitated Mount Hua’s outer shell, one might pursue the strength of form, but never reach the Dao.
Once the true intent behind Southern Edge’s martial arts was lost, Southern Edge itself would slowly lose its light. And in the end, it would be unable even to preserve the name of a prestigious sect.
The poison Chung Myung had planted had infected Southern Edge more deeply than he had expected.
I feel a little bad, somehow.
Of course, remembering what Southern Edge had done to Mount Hua, even chewing them alive wouldn’t have been enough to settle his anger.
But watching Southern Edge crumble faster than he’d expected, even Chung Myung felt the faintest prick of conscience.
—You have the nerve to talk about conscience, you little bastard!
“Hey, if I’m not calling you, don’t just pop out on your own!”
“Hm?”
“Nothing.”
Chung Myung waved a hand lightly.
Jin Geum-ryong had already turned and was stepping down from the arena.
“Seems he did try hard, in his own way….”
Chung Myung grinned and turned his head.
“But at that rate, he won’t even beat Dong-ryong.”
“……”
“Right? Dong-ry—”
Baek Cheon shot to his feet and pressed both fists hard into Chung Myung’s temples.
“Sasuk! Sasuk, you bastard! Sasuk!”
“Aagh! Dong-ryong is killing me! Aaaagh!”
“Grrrngh.”
Baek Cheon let out a long sigh.
He had made more than a few mistakes in his life, but telling this brat his birth name was among the worst of them.
Escaping Baek Cheon’s grip, Chung Myung glared in grievance.
“You’re ashamed of the name your parents gave you?”
“...Please, just shut that mouth of yours. Please.”
Baek Cheon’s sigh seemed to come from the depths of the earth.
“Head—!”
“Eek?”
BOOOOOM!
“……”
Glancing at the opponent collapsed on the floor, Dang Soso jerked her head around and looked at Gong Cho.
“T-this match goes to Dang Soso! Mount Hua’s Dang Soso wins!”
“Woooooo!”
“Mount Hua wins again!”
“Did I just hear something strange? Didn’t she say ‘head’ just now?”
“No way, you must’ve heard wrong. Surely a disciple of a prestigious sect wouldn’t say something like that here.”
“That’s true, right?”
“More importantly, aren’t Mount Hua’s lady swordswomen incredible? That Yu I-seol woman earlier completely demolished her opponent too.”
“...She looks like the most ruthless of Mount Hua’s swordsmen.”
“Right?”
Dang Soso, having energetically come down from the arena, stopped directly in front of Yu I-seol and bent at the waist in a perfect ninety-degree bow.
“Sago! I won and came back!”
“Good. Sit.”
“Yes!”
Dang Soso hurriedly sat in the empty seat beside Yu I-seol.
Without taking her eyes off the arena, Yu I-seol spoke.
“Opening at the waist.”
“Yes!”
“When stepping to the left. Waist open. Remember it from now on.”
“Yes! I’ll keep it in mind, Sago!”
“Your senior brothers are stronger than you. You were chosen as the representative because of your potential. If you get eliminated early, it’ll be unfair to them. Win even if you have to cling to the opponent’s trouser legs.”
“I’ll win even if I have to die!”
Listening to the conversation between the two, Baek Cheon wore a strange expression.
No, there’s no need to go that far, girls….
For some reason, it was hard to cut into a conversation between those two.
Still, they really are impressive.
Of course, Dang Soso was the weakest among the Mount Hua disciples sent here as representatives. There were people remaining at the main sect who were stronger than her.
But this place was not simply a stage for proving raw force.
If everything had been ranked purely by strength, then the Cheong-generation disciples, including Yoon Jong and Jo Gul, would never have been chosen as representatives. However you looked at it, the Baek-generation disciples were still stronger than the Cheong generation.
And yet the Cheong generation had been chosen as representatives because this was not only a place for proof, but also a place for experience.
She had trained steadily while eating excellent spiritual medicine as the daughter of the Dang Family, and in just six months had become an opponent impossible to ignore even among the Cheong generation. If one wanted growth through experience, she could not be left out.
That was why Hyun Jong had agonized over it to the very end before placing Dang Soso among the representatives.
And she’s doing well so far.
Of course, her victories had been hard-fought compared to the other Mount Hua disciples, and her matchups had been pretty favorable as well, but producing a win was still an impressive thing.
“Sago! When I step Chilseongbo, the tips of my feet feel kind of slippery. Am I doing something wrong?”
“Upper-upper knot. Don’t step. Slide. Think of the ground as empty air and step on it.”
“Ah! So that was it!”
Watching Dang Soso cling to Yu I-seol’s side and ask one question after another, Baek Cheon smiled faintly.
It’s a good thing.
Thanks to Dang Soso naturally striking up conversations, Yu I-seol also felt a little softer than she had in the past.
That was what a sect should be: people helping and influencing one another as they moved forward.
So…
“I’m hungry! When are we eating?”
“……”
Ah.
Except for that bastard.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The atmosphere on the second day of the Heavenly Martial Arts Conference was definitely different.
The matches were fiercer than they had been on the first day, and the hidden experts of each sect, who had been crouching low while watching the situation, slowly began to reveal themselves.
Namgung Do-hwi, the Single-Break Sword of the Namgung Clan.
Jin Geum-ryong of Southern Edge.
Jin Hyeon of Wudang also secured a victory, and Peng Tiecheng of the Hubei Peng Clan, the Dragon of Blades, showed a particularly striking performance.
And yet, amid all that blood-pounding combat, fortunately, none of Mount Hua’s disciples lost. All of them won.
“...At this rate, aren’t we really all going to advance to the main rounds?”
At Jo Gul’s words, Yoon Jong gave a snort of laughter.
“Normally, when people say that, they say, ‘At this rate, aren’t we going to win the whole thing?’”
“No. Chung Myung’s going to win it anyway.”
Yoon Jong, looking at the “that bastard” Jo Gul had meant, ended up nodding.
“Fair point.”
There was no way anyone at the level of the second generation could stop Chung Myung, not even the Three Dragons or whatever they called themselves. It was impossible even to imagine.
“But don’t get arrogant.”
Baek Cheon spoke in a slightly lowered voice.
“We are challengers. There’s no guarantee things will keep going this smoothly. From tomorrow on, there’ll probably be people who lose. Everyone, strive to keep your hearts steady.”
“Yes, Sasuk!”
Just as Baek Cheon was nodding with satisfaction, there came a knock at the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
Someone was rapping at the pavilion door.
Baek Cheon rose from his seat.
“Senior brother, I’ll…”
“No. I’ll go.”
Baek Cheon walked lightly to the entrance and opened the door.
“Who—”
His mouth shut.
Two people stood at the entrance.
One was Jin Geum-ryong.
And the other was…
“...Father.”
It was Jin Cho-baek, an elder of Southern Edge and Jin Geum-ryong’s father.
Jin Cho-baek, regarding Baek Cheon with lowered eyes, opened his mouth in a low voice.
“Could I speak with you for a moment?”
Baek Cheon bit his lower lip slightly.
“Yes.”