I Don’t Know Anything About Lineups! (5)
“I…!”
Heo Sanja’s face twisted violently.
What a wicked sword that was.
The flowers that bloomed like an illusion dazzled the eye, hiding their razor-sharp edge within that disorienting beauty.
That wasn’t merely a pretty sight.
It was dangerous beyond measure. It looked like a poisonous herb cloaked in brilliant colors, concealing a deadly toxin beneath its splendor.
It made no sense.
He didn’t want to admit it, but Mount Hua was a prestigious sect. By the standards of Daoist history, it was even closer to the orthodox lineage than Wudang. And yet, he couldn’t understand how a sword art unleashed from such a place could be so vicious.
Fwoooosh!
The petals that had surged up all at once came raining down like snow.
Heo Sanja knew better than anyone how dangerous that beautiful sight was, and yet even he had his gaze stolen for a split second by the dancing petals.
And in that instant—
Whoosh!
Jo Gul burst through the wall of flowers and shot toward Mu Ho like a bolt of lightning.
Moving like an arrow loosed from a bow, Jo Gul brought a powerful strike crashing down toward Mu Ho’s exposed head.
Swiiish!
It was such a forceful blow it seemed as though he meant to cleave Mu Ho in half. It was completely unlike Jo Gul’s usual swordplay—a textbook example of brute, overwhelming sword force.
“Mu, Mu Ho!”
At that sight, Heo Sanja cried out before he could stop himself and half-risen from his seat.
But—
Clang!
Just as Jo Gul’s sword was about to split Mu Ho’s head open, Mu Ho’s blade arced like a flash of lightning and intercepted the strike.
Clang-clang-clang-clang!
Blades collided, sending sparks scattering in every direction. The fierce exchange continued for a brief moment, one sword pressing down with weight while the other tried to slip the force away.
Crack.
Mu Ho’s eyes flashed with pain from the pressure in his wrist.
I blocked it.
It had been a terrifying exchange.
If his concentration had slipped even a little—if that flashy sword aura had stolen his attention just a fraction more—he would surely be the one sprawled in blood by now.
But he had blocked it.
Mu Ho silently cheered.
Jo Gul’s cultivation was clearly far greater than he had expected, but not enough to overwhelm him outright. If he could only neutralize that bizarre, unpredictable variation, victory would surely be his.
I’ve won…
But then—
Hm?
Mu Ho’s face froze in an instant.
The corner of Jo Gul’s mouth, directly above him, had curled upward.
He’s smiling?
It was a triumphant smile.
Not the expression of someone whose decisive attack had been stopped. No, it was the kind of smile worn only when everything was going exactly as planned.
Sensing something was terribly wrong, Mu Ho tried to retract his sword and take a defensive stance.
Grrrk!
“Hm?”
But his blade wouldn’t move.
As though glued in place, Jo Gul’s sword clamped down on his and refused to let go.
Absorption Technique?
The energy flowing from Jo Gul’s sword was binding his own blade and dragging it downward.
What kind of inner force is this…!
It was raw and unrefined, but the sheer amount of it was monstrous. No matter how hard he strained, he couldn’t pull his sword free.
Fwoooooosh!
Then the plum blossom sword qi Jo Gul had already released in advance began surging toward him all at once.
It broke…?
Wudang’s sword was seamless, continuous like flowing water. But even that flowing sword aura would be severed if the sword itself stopped moving. And yet the sword qi Jo Gul had sent flying skyward still hadn’t lost any of its force.
It hadn’t been the petals that had dazzled the eye.
Jo Gul himself had been the bait, the one meant to blind his opponent.
“You—!”
Mu Ho dragged up every ounce of inner force he had and struggled to tear free from Jo Gul’s blade, which clung to him like a leech. But no matter how much strength he poured in, it was useless.
The veins in Jo Gul’s tanned, hardened forearm bulged thickly.
“Haaah!”
Panic rising, Mu Ho abruptly expelled his inner force and tried to knock Jo Gul away. No—he tried to slam him back.
But at that very moment—
Grip.
Jo Gul seized the edge of Mu Ho’s blade with his other hand.
Th-this lunatic!
However he had used the technique of the hand, Mu Ho’s sword was still releasing sword qi. If he’d been even a little careless, losing all his fingers would have been the least surprising outcome.
And he was doing something that reckless in nothing more than a spar?
It was an insanely dangerous move, but the effect was undeniable.
With sword and hand both locked in place, Mu Ho’s blade could do nothing but emit a plaintive metallic groan, pinned as if a mountain had been dropped upon it.
No, no…
Mu Ho instinctively whipped around.
And he saw it.
The red storm surging toward him.
Fwooooooosh!
Petals swept over Mu Ho’s entire body.
Slash! Slash!
His flesh split in multiple places, blood spraying out as sharp petals drove themselves between the vulnerable seams of his skin.
“Kgh.”
His battered body convulsed violently.
He had wrapped himself in Taechung Kangqi, but the plum blossom sword qi that flew at him tore through his inner force with humiliating ease and drove itself into his body.
Groaning in agony, Mu Ho suddenly lifted his head as a thought flashed through his mind.
If that sword qi was sweeping across the entire area, then Jo Gul himself couldn’t possibly be unscathed either, could he?
Mu Ho looked at Jo Gul and his eyes went wide.
His body trembled as though it had been struck by lightning.
If Jo Gul had been badly hurt, he wouldn’t have been so shocked. But Jo Gul was grinning, teeth bared, even as the plum blossom sword qi he’d released pierced his own body.
Mu Ho understood.
He wasn’t prepared enough.
Mu Ho had been fighting a spar, but Jo Gul had entered the duel to win.
That… was the tiny difference that decided everything.
Thud.
As he felt the plum blossom sword qi burrow into his back, Mu Ho lost consciousness and collapsed on the spot.
Clang!
The sharp ring of Songmun’s old sword hitting the floor of the platform echoed outward beyond the stage.
Tap.
Jo Gul landed lightly on the floor and looked down at his legs. They were covered in blood where the petals had grazed him all over.
But none of that mattered.
After staring for a moment at Mu Ho’s unconscious form, he clenched his fist hard.
“I wonnnnnnnnnnnnn!”
His exultant shout boomed through the stunned audience.
“...That crazy bastard.”
“He’s out of his mind, seriously.”
“Someone needs to beat him.”
Baek Cheon, Yoon Jong, and Yu I-seol all released killing intent at the same time.
There was insane, and then there was that. Who in the world used their own body as bait in a spar? And to that extent, too—getting himself that badly injured on purpose.
“That man….”
Dang Soso, the one who would have to treat those injuries, was practically spewing fire from her eyes.
At the grinding sound of her teeth, the three who’d been raging just moments ago flinched. A low, ominous growl rolled through their ears.
“Does he think his body’s some scrap of cloth? If he gets cut, is he just supposed to stitch it up and call it a day?”
“...C-calm down, Soso.”
“Anyway, he won, didn’t he? Hm?”
In the end, her fury exploded.
“Winning isn’t the end of it! What if he’d been seriously hurt?! That idiot!”
“B-but he’s your s-senior, Soso.”
“So what? I don’t know anything about seniority! I’m just going to—ugh, I’m going to—!”
Overwhelmed by Dang Soso’s murderous glare, Baek Cheon and Yoon Jong found themselves apologizing before they even realized it.
“...I’m sorry.”
“I apologize on his behalf.”
“Honestly!”
Dang Soso clenched her fist so tightly her knuckles went white, then ground her teeth again. The three men, suddenly cowed, quickly looked away and turned their attention back to the platform.
Jo Gul was still standing there with one hand raised high, drunk on victory.
“He really never changes.”
Truthfully, the outcome hadn’t been certain.
From Baek Cheon’s perspective, Jo Gul probably had a slight edge, but a fight was always shaped by luck and circumstances in the moment, so there was never any true certainty.
That stupid bastard.
If this had been a private duel, would Jo Gul have taken such a risk? Probably not.
This was a match Mount Hua had to win.
Since Mount Hua was behind in overall strength, seizing the initiative was crucial. Jo Gul knew that, which was why he’d forced the victory at all costs.
Invisible though it was, responsibility for Mount Hua weighed heavily on those rising shoulders. He was only a third-generation disciple, but Jo Gul had already become one of the pillars carrying Mount Hua’s name forward.
That kid.
Warm pride filled Baek Cheon’s chest, and a faint smile spread across his face before he even realized it.
But then…
“Why the hell isn’t that bastard getting down?”
“...Looks like he’s planning to stay up there until the Wudang people have all burned the scene into their memories and their insides have turned over.”
“...Someone go drag him down right now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Yoon Jong hurried up to the platform, kicked Jo Gul in the butt, and dragged him down by the ear.
Watching that, Baek Cheon let out a long sigh.
“Dependable, or not, I can’t even tell anymore….”
Honestly, one Chung Myung was enough for that sort of thing.
“Ow, ow, it hurts! Senior! Ah! I said it hurts!”
“Of course it hurts! I’m making it hurt, so obviously it hurts!”
“A person who just won a match should not be treated like this!”
“Shut up.”
Once Yoon Jong let go of his ear, Jo Gul straightened up as if he’d never been whining in the first place.
“I mean, I thought the Wudang first-generation disciple would be way more impressive.”
“So he wasn’t anything special?”
“No. He was impressive.”
“...”
What was wrong with this bastard?
Bearing everyone’s flat stare, Jo Gul said with firm conviction, “The pressure was insane. It was a sword unlike anything I’ve ever faced. He didn’t seem like he was doing anything special, but it felt like I was sinking deeper and deeper into a swamp.”
“Hm.”
“You can’t afford to underestimate him. If we’d fought normally, I might’ve lost.”
“...That’s Wudang for you, then.”
His mood, which had relaxed slightly, tightened again in an instant.
Baek Cheon felt anew just how much Jo Gul had grown from that brief exchange. The Jo Gul of the past would’ve been too busy bragging about beating a Wudang first-generation disciple to think about anything else, but now he was already considering the brothers who would have to fight next instead of his own victory.
I’d better work harder too.
Just as Baek Cheon was about to let his heart warm with that wholesome thought—
“But hey, I did win, so I won! Heehee!”
“...”
For now, he decided to put the wholesome feelings on hold.
“Anyway, he’s not someone I couldn’t fight! If I’m just a little careful, I can definitely— AAAAAAAGH!”
Without warning, Jo Gul toppled over and let out a miserable scream.
Dang Soso had approached without anyone noticing, and now, with a face like a demoness, she was gripping the wound on his leg.
“Oh? You’re happy because you won?”
“Aaaagh! Soso! There! Ow! That cut is—”
“Oh, here?”
“AAAAAAAGH!”
At the sight of Soso’s fingers digging into the wound, everyone shut their eyes tightly as if by prior agreement.
“Haha. My senior seems to be very badly hurt. I’d better treat you again.”
“N-no! It’s not that bad! Leave it alone and it’ll heal! Just spit on it!”
“Please. What nonsense. I’ll treat you properly.”
A huge silver needle was drawn from Dang Soso’s sleeve.
Calling it a needle was almost ridiculous—it was too big, too thick, too sharp. If anything, it was closer to an awl. Jo Gul asked in a trembling voice, “W-why a needle? I don’t have any internal injuries.”
“I have to stitch you up.”
“Huh?”
“This is a needle.”
“...That’s?”
“Yep.”
“...If that’s a needle, then even worms are dragons—AAAAAAAGH!”
Dang Soso wordlessly dragged Jo Gul off to a corner. The Mount Hua disciples all shuddered, trying to shake off the goosebumps rising over their bodies.
Never get injured.
If I’m going to be hurt, I’d rather die.
That was the moment a new condition was added to this spar.
Baek Cheon smiled bitterly and glanced toward the Wudang side. They were so shocked they had not even thought to gather up Mu Ho, who still lay collapsed on the platform, and instead stood frozen as though their minds had been blown apart.