Can You Become the Spark? (2)
"Sahyuuuuuuuuuuuk!"
"Sahyeong! Wahahahahaha! Sahyeong! Sahyeooong!"
The Mount Hua disciples swarmed Baek Cheon as he descended from the dueling stage.
"You won! You actually won!"
"Holy crap! He beat Jin Geum-ryong!"
Baek Sang was the first to run up and throw his arms around Baek Cheon, tears streaming down his face.
"Sahyeong... Sahyeong! Hic..."
He simply could not hold back the tears that kept spilling out. He knew better than anyone here how brutally Baek Cheon had driven himself to defeat Jin Geum-ryong. Baek Sang was the one who understood that best, and because of that, he could not stop crying.
"Don't cry."
"Sahyeong..."
Baek Cheon smiled faintly.
"I came back after winning in a good mood, so why are you crying? You should be congratulating me."
"Yes. Truly... truly congratulations, Sahyeong."
Baek Cheon gave a small nod.
Then he reached back and lightly shook the back of Baek Sang's head.
"Thanks."
His wrist throbbed.
Now that the tension had gone, the pain he had forgotten about came flooding back in. Even so, Baek Cheon was smiling.
At this point, pain doesn't matter.
He had finally crossed the wall that had seemed forever beyond his reach.
That mattered more than anything else to him.
"You need treatment."
"Right."
Yu I-seol, expressionless as always, tugged him along.
But anyone who knew her well could tell. The corners of her mouth, which always seemed cold at first glance, were lifted just a little.
Baek Cheon had beaten Jin Geum-ryong.
That did not merely mean the match between the two of them had been decided. It meant Mount Hua, not Chung Myung, had finally surpassed Southern Edge completely.
"You really... worked hard, Sahyeong."
"No."
Baek Cheon slowly shook his head.
"If it weren't for all of you, I wouldn't have been able to do anything alone. This was because of you."
The Mount Hua disciples looked at one another and smiled back.
That hot, surging feeling in their chests...
"He's smiling?"
...cooled instantly.
Every Mount Hua disciple turned in unison toward one side. Chung Myung was walking over, his head cocked at an angle.
Why is he mad again?
He won, didn't he? Winning is enough.
Run. Run before the sparks fly!
Before long, Chung Myung was standing right in front of them, glaring at Baek Cheon.
"You're smiling?"
"..."
"You were up against some guy you could've beaten without any real damage if you just fought properly, and now you're smiling after letting him hack off your wrist? Huh?"
Baek Cheon's face twisted at once.
"Even so, this is basically no damage—"
"No damaggeeeee? Good heavens! Your wrist is dangling off your arm and you're saying that's no damage? What, if there'd been a little damage, your head would've been dangling next?"
"..."
Desperately seeking help with his eyes, Baek Cheon looked around. But every single disciple who met his gaze hurriedly looked away.
These damn bastards.
What?
Brotherly loyalty?
Warmth and all that?
Yeah, right.
The same disciples who had been crowding around him just moments ago, cheering and crying, were all inching away as though they had seen something they shouldn't have.
"I told you until I was blue in the face that you had to stay calm, and what was the point? I might as well have been reciting scriptures to a cow! At least a cow would listen—at least it'd listen! Ugh, what a miserable life I have, dragging around people like this!"
His ears felt like they were bleeding.
It seemed his ears hurt more than his injured wrist.
What was that?
Endless nagging leads the way?
Baek Cheon briefly wanted to slap his past self for ever thinking something so foolish.
Just as he was seriously thinking about how to escape this situation, Chung Myung finally stopped nagging and stared at him intently.
"Well..."
Then he shrugged and went on.
"You did okay, I guess."
"...Huh?"
"In the end, results are what matter. If you beat that Southern Edge sword ghost, then you did well."
"...Did you eat something weird?"
"I'm going to collect my money."
Chung Myung waved him off and strode toward the gambling tables. Baek Cheon stared after him, eyes wide.
That bastard... for once?
Normally, once he got started, he would keep driving someone until their ears really were bleeding. And this time he was just stopping here?
"Sasuk!"
"Sahyeong!"
Baek Cheon was once again surrounded by the cheers of his junior brothers and sisters, and he quietly nodded. Yet even as he did, his gaze remained fixed on Chung Myung's retreating back.
Well done.
That damn bastard.
He was finally giving him praise after three years.
* * *
It was cold.
Unlike the uproar below, the platform where the sect leaders were gathered was as silent as a tomb.
No one could bring themselves to speak easily.
And it was not only because of the result of the match.
Of course, the fact that Mount Hua's Baek Cheon had defeated Southern Edge's Jin Geum-ryong was shocking enough.
But the reason the sect leaders had fallen silent was not merely the victory and defeat itself.
That sword...
Heo Do-jin-in looked down with heavy eyes at Baek Cheon, who was surrounded by his fellow disciples.
It was not as if this was the first time they had seen Mount Hua's Plum Blossom Sword Art. Had they not already offered congratulations to the Mount Hua Sect for recovering its lost martial arts?
But recovering martial arts and recovering the true essence of martial arts were not the same thing at all. What Baek Cheon had just proven was that Mount Hua had not merely recovered the shell of its old techniques, but their actual essence.
In other words...
It means Mount Hua's Plum Blossom Sword Art, the art that once commanded the world, has returned.
It was impossible to understand.
If simply recovering an old martial art meant one could immediately grasp its true essence and use it at the same level as before, then what was the point of a teacher?
Martial arts that represented a great sect were naturally complex and difficult. Even a genius counted among the best in the world would not find it easy to understand and reproduce them.
Then does that mean someone taught them the Plum Blossom Sword Art?
But how, and by whom, could a martial art that had been lost decades ago be taught anew?
Heo Do-jin-in bit his lower lip lightly.
Still, one thing is certain.
If the recovery of their martial arts was real, then no one in the world would be able to look down on Mount Hua any longer. And perhaps...
The balance of power in the world itself may have to be rewritten.
A tremendous sense of crisis washed over him.
He had thought the competition for the position of the world's foremost sword sect was already over, and yet now it felt as if it had never ended at all.
Heo Do-jin-in quietly turned his head and studied the expressions of the other sect leaders.
He was not the only one thinking this way. Most of the leaders were staring at Baek Cheon with grave faces.
And then...
That one is practically struck dumb.
Southern Edge's sect leader, Jong Ri-gok, was so stunned he had left his mouth hanging open.
Well, of course.
Jin Geum-ryong was the greatest of the younger generation in Southern Edge, the one whose future rise to sect leader had long seemed certain. And yet he had been defeated by the Righteous Sword of Mount Hua, not even by the Mount Hua Divine Dragon himself. How could the shock and fallout possibly be endured?
Especially since Mount Hua and Southern Edge, by virtue of their proximity and the history between their sects, were in a relationship where one had to live for the other to die.
For Jin Geum-ryong to be utterly crushed by a Mount Hua disciple in front of so many major figures of the martial world would be an irreversible, devastating blow to Southern Edge.
So it was only natural that he looked as though his soul had left him.
On the other hand, Mount Hua's sect leader, Hyun Jong, was gazing at his disciples with a face filled with emotion.
Hm.
Heo Do-jin-in let out a faint, dry laugh.
What an interesting man.
If he had only puffed himself up a little, or even shown the slightest hint of swaggering around, he could have been hated without hesitation. But seeing him look so genuinely delighted made it difficult to nurture any real ill will.
Mount Hua. Mount Hua, huh... Just how far are you going to go?
* * *
"What?"
Yoon Jong and Jo Gul's eyes shook violently.
"I-It means I can't compete?"
Yoon Jong shouted in alarm, and Hyun Sang gave a heavy nod.
"Your meridians are not completely ruined, but if you overdo it, it could cause lifelong problems. So you'll have to forfeit the next match."
"No, what the hell—"
Jo Gul let out a dumbfounded sound.
They had only just beaten Jin Geum-ryong. They had finally broken through the wall, and now Baek Cheon's skill had bloomed wide open. And yet they had to withdraw from the competition? What kind of lightning bolt was this?
"Is there no other way?"
"There are countless ways."
"Th-Then why—?"
Hyun Sang cut off Jo Gul, who was looking at him with desperate pleading in his eyes, with a decisive tone.
"But among those methods, none come without aftereffects. Why should you push yourself that far for the sake of this tournament?"
Jo Gul, who had been about to say something, shut his mouth.
He knew Hyun Sang was right. Even so, the regret still gnawed at him.
"Sasuk..."
Jo Gul looked back at Baek Cheon with worried eyes.
Baek Cheon spoke in a calm voice.
"Then we'll forfeit."
"S-Sasuk!"
Jo Gul and Yoon Jong stared at him in shock, but Baek Cheon only smiled quietly.
"There's no helping it."
"But..."
"No need to regret it."
He slowly shook his head and asked,
"Why did we come here?"
"Well..."
Since neither of his junior brothers could answer, Baek Cheon answered for them.
"I didn't come here to win the tournament. I came to show the world Mount Hua's sword and make it clear that we never truly fell. So... my role ends here."
"Sasuk..."
"The rest is up to you."
Seeing Baek Cheon smile so brightly, as though he truly had no regrets left at all, the two of them finally nodded.
Somehow, Baek Cheon looked a little bigger than before.
"Of course, if I hadn't been injured, I would've tried to aim for a better result. But now that it's come to this, there's nothing to be done."
"That's impossible."
"Hm?"
At the sudden interruption, Baek Cheon turned his head.
Yu I-seol was looking at him with a detached expression.
"Sa-sister?"
"Even if you weren't injured, Sahyeong would stop here."
At the unexpected remark, Baek Cheon frowned slightly.
"...Are you saying my skill still isn't enough?"
Yu I-seol shook her head.
"No."
"Hm?"
"The person who wins the next match is Sahyeong's next opponent."
"..."
"And."
Yu I-seol pointed subtly behind her.
"That's the next person to go up."
"..."
What she pointed at was Chung Myung, who was scooping money off the gambling tables.
"That one?"
"Yes. That one."
"..."
Baek Cheon stared at him for a moment, then turned to Yu I-seol and gave the most relieved smile in the world.
"...Then all regret is gone."
"Yes."
"It was meaningless anyway."
No. Facing that thing on the dueling stage would probably be worse than being eliminated here.
Ohhhh? You had the nerve to draw your sword and say you'd face me?
At the voice that naturally echoed in his ears, Baek Cheon's body trembled.
"Maybe this is for the best after all."
"I think so too."
"...Better to keep it clean."
That was when it happened.
"What are you all talking about?"
"Hic!"
Yoon Jong jerked and turned around.
When did he get here?
Chung Myung stood there with a sack of money in his hand.
He had definitely been at the gambling table just moments ago!
"Ah, no. We were just saying you're next in the match."
"Oh, really?"
Chung Myung nodded a little, then set the sack of money down on the ground.
"Watch this carefully."
"...Sure."
"So my opponent is..."
"Yi Song-baek."
"Hmm."
Chung Myung scratched his chin as if something bothered him.
"I feel like I've already beaten Southern Edge enough times, but they keep getting tangled up with me. Well, that is the tradition between Mount Hua and Southern Edge, I guess."
"So you're planning to go easy on him?"
"The word 'easy' doesn't exist in my dictionary!"
Chung Myung glared.
"If you want to get beaten easy, you shouldn't have come to a duel! Anyone standing in front of me with a sword is dying first! I don't care if they're a man, a woman, young, or old!"
Watching Chung Myung blaze with fury, Baek Cheon smiled with deep satisfaction.
For once, thanks, Jin Geum-ryong.
Realizing that he had almost been included in that "men, women, young, or old" line, Baek Cheon looked longingly toward Southern Edge with heartfelt gratitude.
"...Sahyeong."
Every Southern Edge disciple's face had turned deathly pale at the sight of Jin Geum-ryong being carried off.
Jin Geum-ryong had lost.
Not just anyone, but Jin Geum-ryong.
To Southern Edge, Jin Geum-ryong's defeat brought a wave of emotion far greater than what Mount Hua felt at Baek Cheon's victory.
No one denied that Jin Geum-ryong was the strongest among Southern Edge's younger generation. Among the second-generation disciples of Southern Edge, he was, quite literally, a crane among chickens. It had been Jin Geum-ryong who had crushed the sect into submission with talent and effort so overwhelming that he had even taken away the urge to compete.
And yet such a man had been defeated not by Chung Myung, but by Baek Cheon. The shock was so great it had burned away even grief and rage.
Every Southern Edge disciple gathered here was almost in a state of panic.
Feeling the atmosphere sink like a plunge into the abyss, Yi Song-baek closed his eyes.
It's over.
This could not be undone.
Jin Geum-ryong's defeat was not a simple matter.
Now that the Snow Flower Twelve Sword had been broken, the disciples of Southern Edge would no longer be able to hold their heads up in front of Mount Hua.
The despair Mount Hua's disciples had once felt before Southern Edge would now be felt by Southern Edge before Mount Hua. No, it would be even greater than that. It would leave no way out.
Then what should he do now?
Yi Song-baek lifted his head and looked toward the dueling stage.
By now, Chung Myung was trudging up onto it.
After staring at him for a moment with a complicated expression, Yi Song-baek spoke.
"...I'm going."
Behind him, the lifeless gazes of the Southern Edge disciples pierced his back.
"Rather..."
He did not finish the sentence, but it was not hard to guess what they had meant to say.
They had probably wanted to tell him it would be better to forfeit.
He understood. Jin Geum-ryong had lost to Baek Cheon, so there was no way Yi Song-baek could beat Chung Myung.
They were saying it would be better to surrender rather than show Southern Edge losing again in front of everyone and make matters irreparable.
It was a reasonable argument. Clearly.
And yet...
Yi Song-baek simply kept walking with a calm face.
Yes. Maybe this was foolish.
But...
Those who do not walk forward can never advance.
His steps carried him straight toward Chung Myung.