I Thought He’d Come Back as a Dragon (3)
“Straight out of the gate?”
“Whoa, this is….”
The Mount Hua disciples hurriedly backed away in a flurry.
If Chung Myung and Tang Gun-ak really went at each other, then even if it was only a friendly duel and not a fight to the death, there was no way they’d be able to withstand the aftermath.
And yet, even as they worried about getting caught up in the blast, a clear sense of anticipation began to glimmer in their eyes.
Tang Gun-ak.
He had become so familiar to Mount Hua by now that they often failed to truly feel the weight of his presence. But he was still the head of the Sichuan Tang Family, a man who stood at the very top even among the Odaesega.
His standing in the martial world needed no explanation, but even more than the title of family head, what carried real weight was the name Tang Gun-ak itself.
Poison King Tang Gun-ak.
That name did not fall behind the senior figures of the Gupailbang who had once displayed their divine might along the Yangtze. No—in some respects, he was even more highly regarded.
And that very man was now standing before Chung Myung, openly radiating his pressure without the slightest attempt to conceal it.
However much Chung Myung was called the Plum Blossom Sword Hero and praised as a talent destined to lead the next generation of the martial world, there was no way he could be compared to Tang Gun-ak yet.
And yet, none of the Mount Hua disciples watching this strange standoff looked at Chung Myung with worry. They only stared with sparkling eyes, eager to see how the match would end.
What shone in their gazes was nothing but unshakable faith in Chung Myung.
How nostalgic.
Baek Cheon’s tightly pressed lips trembled faintly.
The image of Chung Myung and Tang Gun-ak facing off overlaid itself with the scene he had once seen long ago. The two of them meeting at Jo Gul’s home. And the ten-move duel that had followed.
That had been where their connection began.
But Baek Cheon knew better. That duel had not truly been a proper duel at all. Tang Pae had interfered halfway through and ruined the outcome, yes—but from the start, it had only been a match with the rule that whoever merely blocked ten moves would be counted as the winner.
This time, however, the two stood face-to-face without any conditions between them.
“Isn’t this… a little too abrupt? However you look at it, Sect Leader is here too.”
When Yoon Jong spoke in a slightly doubtful tone, Baek Cheon shook his head. Then he said in a firm voice,
“Sect Leader will understand too.”
“But… shouldn’t people who are close to each other show even more courtesy? To just start a duel the moment they meet face to face….”
“You’re not wrong. But….”
Baek Cheon kept his eyes fixed on the two men and said clearly,
“Sometimes there are relationships where courtesy like that simply isn’t necessary.”
The sensation of the air flowing past was so clear it seemed to brush his fingertips.
Feeling through that sensation that his concentration had reached its peak, Tang Gun-ak quietly studied Chung Myung standing across from him.
He forcibly restrained the corners of his mouth, which kept trying to curl upward.
Life really is full of surprises.
Who could have imagined, when he first met Chung Myung in Sichuan, that he’d one day be having a duel of such scale with that wild little sword freak?
Watching Chung Myung absorb his pressure as if it were nothing, Tang Gun-ak felt a surge of competitive spirit along with a strange swell of pride.
He had grown stronger.
There was no room for doubt about that.
That young swordsman had always done things beyond Tang Gun-ak’s imagination. So in the three years since then, he must have become strong enough to shatter even Tang Gun-ak’s expectations.
That was why he wanted to know.
How strong had his young friend become, really? Had Tang Gun-ak’s hand finally become able to reach that strength?
It was precisely at the moment when his concentration surged so high that it seemed to pull every muscle in his body taut like a drawn bowstring.
“Ah, how scary.”
“….”
Unlike Tang Gun-ak, who was drawing every ounce of power into himself, Chung Myung lounged there with an easy, loose posture and tossed out a flippant remark.
“You don’t have to look at me like that. It’s just a duel.”
“Just a duel?”
“Yeah. Just a duel.”
Tang Gun-ak stared at Chung Myung, who answered without losing the slightest trace of composure, then let out a quiet laugh.
“Let me ask you something.”
“…Yes?”
“Do you think there’s anyone who’s said things that insolent to me and still lived?”
“….”
Chung Myung’s eyes widened slightly. But soon enough, that widening softened into a gentle crescent.
With a grin, Chung Myung answered,
“Yes.”
“...What?”
“There probably is. Why, there wouldn’t be one person?”
“….”
“Or I can be the first.”
As soon as that short exchange ended, Chung Myung and Tang Gun-ak smiled at each other.
What they had just shared was the same conversation they’d had when they first met at the Sahaesanghoe.
Yes. Chung Myung had indeed survived after acting insolently toward Tang Gun-ak as if it were nothing, and had even become the first person to count as his friend.
“So? Want to do ten moves again this time?”
“I’m thinking a hundred might not be enough.”
“For a family head, you sure are making a big fuss.”
“I’m the head of the Tang Family, so out of pride I can’t exactly say a thousand.”
“You’ve gotten pretty easygoing since then.”
“Thanks to someone.”
Tang Gun-ak smiled faintly.
It wasn’t an exaggeration—he really did feel like even a thousand moves wouldn’t be enough. He had been pouring out his momentum from the beginning, trying to press Chung Myung down, but he still couldn’t get a proper hold on his aura.
It feels like slashing at running water.
He wanted to know.
About the great battle on the Yangtze.
Chung Myung had faced Jang Il-so and lived. That alone had earned him a reputation that shook the martial world.
But both he and Chung Myung knew one thing: surviving Jang Il-so did not mean he had stood on equal footing with him.
So then—
What about Chung Myung now, not the Chung Myung of back then?
Had the Chung Myung standing here now gained the strength to take on Jang Il-so and the Four Hegemons Alliance?
We’ll find out if we test it.
A single flying dagger slipped from Tang Gun-ak’s sleeve. With the dagger pinched between his index and middle fingers, a sharp, honed pressure rose from his body like the edge of a divine blade.
And at that moment—
Swish.
Chung Myung slowly drew out the Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom Sword. He took his stance with the sword held low, the blade gleaming in the sunlight.
A soft, unassuming posture with not the slightest hint of force. But the instant Tang Gun-ak saw it, his breath strangely caught in his throat.
It was just a basic low stance. And yet it was clearly different from any stance Tang Gun-ak had seen until now. He couldn’t even say exactly what was different, only that it was different.
Tang Gun-ak’s mouth twitched faintly.
He almost told Chung Myung to be careful, then stopped himself. The one standing before him didn’t need that kind of consideration.
Clench.
Tang Gun-ak’s fingers tightened around the flying dagger between them as if he might snap it in two.
Once, it had been Tang Bo’s treasured weapon, the Chasing Soul Dagger.
The moment internal energy surged from his dantian, the Chasing Soul Dagger gave a deep, ringing hum—a clear sword cry.
Tang Gun-ak’s and Chung Myung’s gazes met in midair.
And then—
Twirl.
Without warning, the Chasing Soul Dagger that had been in Tang Gun-ak’s hand appeared in the air.
Fwaaaaaang! Clang-clang-clang!
At the same time, two different thunderous sounds exploded and rolled through the surroundings.
Gwak Hoe’s eyes flew wide open.
What?
Even though he had watched from right in front of them, he still couldn’t tell what on earth had just happened.
N-no, wait… so the two of them were facing off, and then suddenly a dagger appeared overhead and there was a sound?
Only two things had changed from before.
Tang Gun-ak’s hand was now extended forward, and Chung Myung, who had previously held his sword low, now held it diagonally.
“N-no way….”
Still unable to understand, Gwak Hoe was thrown into confusion—then a voice like salvation reached his ears.
“...That’s insane.”
“So fast.”
“I’ve lived a long time and seen all kinds of things, but this is a first.”
He turned his head and saw Baek Cheon, Yu I-seol, and Jo Gul shaking their heads with disgusted expressions. Thinking they might have understood something, Gwak Hoe asked,
“W-what just happened?”
“Something obvious.”
“Huh?”
Baek Cheon said flatly,
“The attacker threw the flying dagger. The defender blocked it. That’s all.”
“N-no, but….”
“Only,”
Baek Cheon bit his lip slightly and went on.
“The whole thing happened so fast that the sound came a beat late.”
“….”
“Simple enough, right?”
Not at all.
Gwak Hoe’s face went pale.
So… right in front of him, Tang Gun-ak had thrown the dagger and Chung Myung had slapped it upward, but the entire exchange had happened so quickly that all he’d seen was the dagger hanging in midair?
What kind of duel is this?
Gwak Hoe had also gained tremendous confidence through hellish training. But this one exchange unfolding before his eyes shattered that hard-won confidence in an instant.
Different level. Was there any scene more fitting for that phrase?
“Gwak Hoe.”
“Y-yes? Ah… yes! Uncle-disciple!”
“Don’t take your eyes off this duel for even a moment.”
“...“
“It’ll be useful someday. Just like it was for us.”
“...Understood.”
Gwak Hoe, still drowning in bewilderment, and the Mount Hua disciples all widened their eyes again at those words.
“Hmph.”
Chung Myung gave his sword a light flick, shaking off the shock that still lingered in his wrist. The dull ache felt there stirred up a faintly strange mood.
“The title Poison King is starting to feel a little hollow, isn’t it?”
Click.
Tang Gun-ak, having retrieved the flying dagger that had been spinning through the air, shrugged.
“Thanks to someone.”
“Tsk. You’ve really been handing it over all this time.”
Chung Myung smirked.
Of course, he knew. He knew Tang Gun-ak would never have gone all-out in their duel back then. For a proud martial artist like Tang Gun-ak to unleash his full strength against a younger junior would have been shameful.
But even taking that into account, the power and speed packed into this dagger had far surpassed the Tang Gun-ak of the past.
It’s enough to bring back old memories.
It was a strike that stirred memories of Tang Bo.
And that could only mean one thing.
Since Chung Myung’s visit to the Tang Family back then, Tang Gun-ak had devoted himself not to poison, but to flying daggers alone. For years, he had polished himself endlessly without a hint of complacency.
To overcome the limitations of poison.
“...That couldn’t have been easy.”
Changing one’s fundamentals was far more painful than ordinary training—beyond comparison.
But Tang Gun-ak merely shook his head as if it were no great matter.
“It wasn’t just Mount Hua.”
“...What?”
Chung Myung tilted his head at the meaningless-sounding words, and Tang Gun-ak replied in a calm yet unwavering tone.
“From Mount Hua’s perspective, the rest of the world must look as if it has all but stopped, since you’re running ahead of everything.”
“...“
“But don’t think we’ve just been standing still and watching Mount Hua grow. We’ve been moving forward too—slowly, but surely, one step at a time.”
Tang Gun-ak tightened his grip on the dagger.
“So I’m not planning on giving up the lead yet. Destroying the Four Hegemons Alliance is my role, not yours.”
The corners of Chung Myung’s lips twitched.
It was the expression of someone desperately holding back laughter that threatened to burst out in delight and warmth.
I told you I’d take that Heavenly Demon bastard’s head! Just sit back and watch from behind, you old Daoist!
“Honestly….”
Could he not help but think that blood really was thicker than water?
Chung Myung slowly lowered his sword.
What Tang Gun-ak had just said was the highest praise a martial artist and a comrade could ever give.
Then….
With a smile twisting at his mouth, Chung Myung gripped his sword tighter. The green tassel hanging from the tip trembled lightly.
He too had to prove himself as both a martial artist and a comrade. That the time he had spent had never been wasted!
Fwaaaat!
At that moment, the flying dagger Tang Gun-ak had thrown became three shafts of light and shot toward Chung Myung.