I Don’t Know Anything About Lineups! (1)
“You—”
Heo Sanja bit down hard on his lip.
What the hell kind of sect are these bastards running?
A promise between sects had to mean more than a private one. And yet they had so shamelessly blown past the agreed time. How could they stand there so calm, so utterly at ease?
“Huu.”
Suppressing his anger, he let out a short breath.
Then, after channeling a touch of qi to steady his mind, he lifted cold eyes to the elders standing behind Chung Myung. He deliberately ignored Chung Myung himself as if the boy weren’t even there.
“If it is Mount Hua, then it was once called a famed sect. I did not expect you would treat a promise so lightly.”
The pointed words brought an awkward look to Hyun Sang’s face. But Hyun Young, standing beside him, simply stepped forward with an unruffled expression and answered in his place.
“We’re sorry we’re late.”
“Hmm.”
“However, there is one thing I must correct.”
“...And what might that be?”
“Mount Hua is not a sect that was once called a famed sect. It is still a famed sect.”
“...”
“Please remember that.”
Heo Sanja gave a dry, incredulous laugh.
To be fair, that Mount Hua Divine Dragon at the front was the biggest problem, but the rest of them behind him weren’t all that different.
They don’t even know shame!
Despite being a Daoist priest, Heo Sanja felt his insides boiling.
And this isn’t even provocation.
Could they really put on an act that good just to rile him up? If that were the case, there would be no need for them to go through all the trouble of becoming martial artists. They’d do better to form a traveling theater troupe, tour the land, and before long they’d be praised as a famous acting company worthy of an imperial summons.
There was no way this many exceptional performers could all be gathered in one place!
He couldn’t quite tell what sort of creatures they were, but one thing was certain.
Wudang and Mount Hua could never mix, just like oil and water.
“Still...”
Having confirmed that fact once more, Heo Sanja found himself saying something he normally never would have said.
“Late as you are, I thank you for coming all this way. I was wondering whether today’s duel might be canceled.”
The words were gentle enough, but the meaning hidden beneath them was closer to, You came all this way and didn’t even have the decency to run away?
Chung Myung snorted and answered on the elders’ behalf.
“Like we’d care enough to run from a bunch of nobodies.”
“...Junior Daoist. I’ve tried not to speak on matters outside my sect, but it isn’t proper for a child to keep interrupting when his elders are talking.”
“Ah, we’re fine with it.”
“What did you say?”
“Mount Hua’s allowed to do that. We’re not that old-fashioned. A sect as short on history as yours shouldn’t be nitpicking like that anyway. If you’re going to be picky, why not show some respect to the sect that came before yours?”
For a moment, Heo Sanja’s face stiffened like stone.
That damned Fire Dragon True Person again—how could he not be angered when they kept dragging up that nonsense?
“That baseless rumor—!”
Heo Sanja was just about to say something more when Mu Jin, standing behind him, quietly tugged at his sleeve.
That small, subtle motion made Heo Sanja realize his mistake. Swallowing his anger, he closed his mouth. The more time he spent talking, the more he would be drawn into the other side’s rhythm. It was better not to engage at all.
A proud man might refuse to back down from a verbal sparring match with a brat, but fortunately, Heo Sanja valued the sect’s interests above his own pride.
“Let us not flush red-faced over such things.”
“...”
Chung Myung grinned and went on.
“Didn’t you say this was a place to strengthen the friendship between our sects? The way you’re huffing and puffing, anyone would think we were here to stake our lives on this. You didn’t really come with that sort of intention, did you?”
“Of course not.”
“Then you should smile.”
Chung Myung flashed a broad, openly mocking grin. Heo Sanja closed his eyes tightly.
Only after calming himself for a moment was he able to open them again. He pointedly ignored Chung Myung and turned his gaze to Hyun Sang.
“May we begin the duel now?”
“We are always ready.”
“Then there is no need to delay further. We ask for your cooperation.”
“The same to you.”
The two men clasped their fists in salute. The moment their hands lowered, Heo Sanja spun on his heel with a gust of cold air and returned to his place.
But Mu Jin, who had been standing behind him, did not follow. Instead, he stayed where he was and stared intently at Chung Myung’s face.
“Long time no see, Daoist.”
“Huh?”
Chung Myung pointed at his own face with a finger and tilted his head.
“Do I know you?”
“...”
Mu Jin’s face hardened. Yet when he spoke, there was no particular hostility in his voice.
“I am Mu Jin. We crossed swords once before.”
“Mu Jin... Mu Jin... Ah!”
After thinking for a moment, Chung Myung seemed to remember and slapped his hands together.
“Oh, right! You were that first-generation disciple who showed up after I beat the hell out of those second-generation disciples!”
“...That is correct.”
“Wow, has it really been that long? Seriously, good to see you.”
Chung Myung waved cheerfully, and Mu Jin returned the gesture with a mild smile.
“It seems my sword did not leave much of an impression.”
“No, that’s not it. I’m just terrible with faces. Besides, it wasn’t exactly a situation where we could sit down and introduce ourselves properly.”
“True enough. You were wearing a mask as well.”
“Ah, that... huh?”
Chung Myung’s eyes shook violently once.
“But how did you know it was me back then?”
“...If one isn’t a fool, it’s obvious.”
Chung Myung looked back in confusion, and Baek Cheon and the others all shook their heads in unison.
“...You thought no one would know?”
“He must’ve thought everyone’s eyes were knotholes.”
“Turn your head. You’re embarrassing the rest of us too.”
Chung Myung pouted, sticking out his lower lip, then turned back to Mu Jin.
“So what now? You here to bring up the past and complain?”
“What’s the point of complaining about the past? In the end, there was nothing there.”
Chung Myung nodded awkwardly, smiling.
Wudang still did not know about the Honwon Dan. If they had known then that Chung Myung had found it, they would not be acting like this now.
“Then why?”
“I simply wanted to speak with the junior Daoist.”
Mu Jin’s eyes as he looked at Chung Myung were deeply serious.
“If I could face the junior Daoist in this duel, there would be no better outcome. But it seems I am not the junior Daoist’s match.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
“But that does not mean our relationship ends here. Until the day I challenge you again, I hope you will not lose that sharp blade of yours.”
His words were courteous yet bold. Chung Myung’s mouth curled with interest.
“Sounds like it’ll be hard to keep up with me.”
“Being hard does not mean I can refuse to walk.”
“...”
“Then.”
Mu Jin gave a slight bow and turned away.
At that, Baek Cheon and the others, who had only been listening from behind, approached Chung Myung and whispered.
“...Mu Jin is one of the Wudang Three Swords, isn’t he?”
“Right.”
“...Then you fought that guy too?”
“Didn’t I tell you?”
Baek Cheon’s group stared at him with blank faces and gaped.
What kind of trouble did this bastard go around causing?
“He looks strong.”
“Yeah.”
Chung Myung nodded in agreement.
“Hmm, Mu Jin, huh.”
The memory of Mu Jin’s sword from their previous fight still lingered in his mind. That alone said enough about how impressive it had been.
But the Mu Jin standing before him today was different from before. Back then, Mu Jin had seemed like a quiet pond. Now, he felt more like a vast lake shrouded in mist.
So he won’t be easy, huh? Wudang is Wudang, I guess.
Chung Myung smirked and spun around.
“All right, then. We’re ready. You lot ready to go?”
But the reactions he got were anything but pleasant.
“You set all this up and now you’re running your mouth?”
“If you hadn’t gone dead asleep on the roof, we’d have been here ages ago!”
“I’m so embarrassed I could die, I swear! What the hell is this mess? You promised a duel and then showed up late—does that even make sense?”
Despite the torrent of complaints raining down on him, Chung Myung only dug at his ear as if he could barely hear them, his expression bored.
“Why’re you all so hung up on little stuff? People can be late sometimes.”
“If someone else was late, you’d be screaming that you’d beat them to death.”
“How does his brain only ever turn in a direction that benefits him...? That’s a talent too, I suppose.”
Hyun Young chuckled and calmed the disciples down.
“Enough. In any case, aren’t we here to fight the duel now?”
“Ugh... yes, Elder.”
“Honestly.”
He was sighing with his mouth, but inside Hyun Young was practically beaming.
Even against Wudang, he still has enough room to joke around.
Was it sheer nerve, or was it confidence born from skill? Either way, in a situation like this, it was not such a bad thing.
“You said it would be a ten-win match, right?”
“That’s right.”
Hyun Young nodded.
Not ten rounds, but ten wins.
It did not mean they would fight ten times exactly. It meant whichever side won ten bouts first would take the victory. That meant anywhere from ten to nineteen duels could be fought.
It was a format that could reveal the true balance of power between sects far better than a simple ten-round match.
“A ten-win match without predetermined pairings. So they’re serious.”
Chung Myung grinned.
If this had been the Wudang of just a little while ago, they would never have chosen this kind of format. The fact that they had proposed it now, radiating that sort of pressure, made it clear they intended to put Mount Hua down hard with this opportunity.
“Well, that’s fine.”
As Chung Myung kept grinning, Baek Cheon and Un Geom came up beside him and asked,
“Who are you planning to send out first?”
“We have fewer people we can send than they do. Think carefully before you choose.”
“First?”
“The one who goes out first.”
Chung Myung gave a short laugh, like someone hearing a question that answered itself.
“Why ask something so obvious?”
“Huh?”
“This is a win-first format. That means momentum matters even more than it does in a normal duel.”
“It does.”
“Then wouldn’t the best plan be to crush the opponent’s momentum from the very start, or make them so angry they drop dead on the spot?”
“Yes. That’s right. So who are you sending?”
“Come on, Sasuk. Among us, who would cause the most outrage if they went out and won?”
“Well...”
At the exact place where Un Geom’s gaze landed, Chung Myung shook his head.
“Except me.”
“Hmm. Then that narrows it down quite a bit...”
“No, there’s only one person.”
Chung Myung turned his head, and everyone’s eyes followed.
Then, the moment they saw the one standing at the end of that gaze, everyone had no choice but to nod in agreement.
“...Yeah, that would definitely get under their skin.”
“If he keeps his mouth shut, it won’t be quite that bad, but there’s no way he’ll keep it shut.”
“...Agreed. Fully agreed.”
“Huh?”
The person who had become the center of all those stares tilted his head, completely lost.
“You go first.”
At Heo Sanja’s words, Jin Hyeon stiffened and replied,
“I am ready. But there are senior brothers here. I worry whether it is proper for me to stand in the opening position.”
“Your opponent is Mount Hua. If a first-generation disciple steps up from the beginning, it does not look well. The result of the match is, in any case, all but decided. That being so, we should choose the most presentable method.”
“...Understood.”
Jin Hyeon nodded with a tight face.
“You must win. Your victory is more important than anything else.”
“Yes, Elder. Do not worry.”
Speaking with a resolved voice, he clenched the Songmun Ancient Sword and climbed onto the dueling platform. Or rather, he tried to.
Tap.
“...Huh?”
Someone had already leaped lightly onto the platform and was strolling toward them with a lazy swagger. A faint crease formed between Jin Hyeon’s brows.
They stole my opening.
But it didn’t matter. As long as he won the first duel, he would seize the initiative.
“I believe in you.”
“Yes, Elder!”
Just as he was about to step up onto the platform—
“No, wait.”
Huh?
The Wudang disciples who had been about to cheer Jin Hyeon all lifted their heads at once and looked up at the platform.
“That side’s a bit boring. If we’re going to do this, we might as well make it a proper match.”
The Mount Hua swordsman with the curly hair and the surly expression looked down at Jin Hyeon, then suddenly shifted his gaze to Mu Jin.
“You over there. You seem to be famous as one of whatever-you-call-it, the Wudang Three Swords, and I happen to be one of the people called the Mount Hua Five Swords, so let’s have a proper duel between swordsmen.”
“...”
Jo Gul, grinning widely, pointed straight at Mu Jin.
It was truly outrageous behavior. The Wudang disciples’ faces began to fill with a level of anger far beyond anything they had shown until now.