You Should’ve Known It Was an Honor, Kid (4)
Namgung Myeong’s face twisted in stunned disbelief as he watched the situation unfold.
What did he just say?
Who did he think he was taking on?
His pupils shook as he stared at the back of the man standing before everyone.
Of course, that man was no ordinary junior disciple. Namgung Myeong could admit that much.
Not just Namgung Myeong, either—there wasn’t a soul in the current martial world who would mistake that Mount Hua Divine Dragon for some common young upstart. If anyone still did, they were either a fool who didn’t understand how the world worked or some idiot who envied another man’s shining fame.
Even Namgung Dowi, who ranked among the very finest among the younger generation and, by any objective measure, had the makings of a future patriarch, would only look small standing beside that Mount Hua Divine Dragon.
That was how different he was.
And yet…
Namgung Myeong’s gaze slipped past that back and landed on the Black Dragon King.
That depends on who’s facing him, doesn’t it?
Everything in this world was relative. Just as Namgung Dowi’s fame and skill faded before the Mount Hua Divine Dragon, the Mount Hua Divine Dragon’s name would pale before the Black Dragon King’s—perhaps even more so.
That was only natural.
The title of Mount Hua Divine Dragon carried within it nothing more than respect for the righteousness he had shown and expectation for the place his sword would someday reach. If one insisted on adding a third layer, then perhaps it was praise for the path he was walking.
But the Black Dragon King was not that.
He was a man who received no respect from the world, and yet had built a reputation that even the entire world could not deny with sheer strength alone.
Namgung Myeong glared at him, his eyes bloodshot.
Even Emperor Sword Namgung Hwang, the former patriarch of the Namgung Clan, had not managed to gain the upper hand in his fierce battle with that Black Dragon King. No—hadn’t he ultimately lost his life to the Black Dragon King’s claws?
Namgung Myeong hated the Black Dragon King more than anyone, but there was no denying that the man was counted among the strongest in the world.
And yet…
The Mount Hua Divine Dragon was going to face that Black Dragon King?
This is insane.
No matter how many times he thought about it, all he could picture was the Mount Hua Divine Dragon being torn apart and killed beneath the Black Dragon King’s blade.
Then why is nobody stopping him? Why!
Even though the Mount Hua Divine Dragon—a mere third-class disciple—had stepped forward alone to face the Black Dragon King, none of Mount Hua’s disciples moved to stop him.
They only stood behind him with their swords lowered, silently guarding his back.
“Ugh….”
Namgung Myeong tried to think about it as rationally as possible. The Mount Hua Sect was strong, and their sense of righteousness was overwhelming, but they still lacked the experience to truly understand the Black Dragon King’s power.
A supreme expert was never a common thing. Mount Hua had lost the generation that should have existed before them; it wouldn’t be so strange if they failed to grasp the Black Dragon King’s strength.
But if that was the case…
Namgung Myeong looked at Dang Gun-ak.
Why are you silent, Patriarch?
If anyone here should step forward against the Black Dragon King, it ought to be Dang Gun-ak. True, the Poison King’s fame was a little lacking compared to the enormous name of the Black Dragon King, but still—he was the Tang Family Patriarch, was he not? At the very least, he stood on the same level.
Yet even though he must have clearly felt Namgung Myeong’s gaze, Dang Gun-ak only watched the confrontation between Cheong Myeong and the Black Dragon King with an expressionless face.
Namgung Myeong grew more and more confused.
They were truly going to send that Mount Hua Divine Dragon out as the Black Dragon King’s opponent.
No.
That must not happen.
That man would certainly become a symbol of the martial world in the future. How could they allow such a person to die here at the hands of some vile brute?
At the very least, Namgung Myeong was not shameless enough to stand by and watch someone who had risked his life for them die.
“I’ll do it myse—”
Clenching his teeth, Namgung Myeong was about to step forward when—
Thud.
Someone grabbed his shoulder.
“...Young Patriarch?”
Startled, Namgung Myeong turned around, only to find Namgung Dowi, who had somehow regained his composure, gripping his shoulder. Namgung Dowi parted his bloodless lips.
“Don’t.”
“...What?”
“Just watch.”
He covered his mouth and let out a rough cough, then wiped the blood from the corner of his lips with his sleeve. His keen eyes locked onto the back of Cheong Myeong.
Namgung Myeong stared at him, dazed.
What he saw in those eyes was unwavering trust. As he looked around blankly, he finally saw that everyone else wore the same expression.
They’re not standing by and doing nothing…
Everyone was just like Namgung Dowi. Not a trace of doubt in those eyes. Every one of them was looking at that back with complete trust.
Not just the Mount Hua disciples, but even the Tang Family—and even Dang Gun-ak.
“What in the world…?”
What exactly had they seen in that Mount Hua Divine Dragon?
What had they witnessed that allowed them to trust him without hesitation even in a situation like this? And against the Black Dragon King, no less.
“...You’re saying he’ll beat the Black Dragon King?”
“Yes.”
The answer was so impossible that Namgung Myeong’s lips trembled.
“Have you seen his martial strength?”
“...Not exactly.”
“Then how—?”
Namgung Dowi gave a faint smile.
“Because they’re watching him.”
He was talking about the Five Swords and the Mount Hua disciples.
Though he had only traveled with them for a short while, he had seen enough. He had seen how deeply they cared for and protected one another. These were people who would not hesitate to give their lives for each other.
And those same people were looking at Cheong Myeong without the slightest wavering.
How could he doubt that?
Could I ever become like that?
Namgung Dowi returned his gaze to the back that stood so firmly before everyone.
Would he one day be able to lead people the way Cheong Myeong did, not through swordplay alone but even through the sight of his back?
Slowly, he clenched his fist. Then he stared at Cheong Myeong’s back as though he were carving it into his eyes.
The wind off the Yangtze River slipped between Cheong Myeong and the Black Dragon King.
The scene around them had grown strangely distorted.
Those standing behind the Black Dragon King had all kept their distance from him. Without any orders, they had gradually inched back on their own, and the result was that odd, spreading gap.
But the place Cheong Myeong stood was different.
Those behind Cheong Myeong had not retreated even a single step from where they had first stood. As if they meant to fight alongside him, they glared at the Black Dragon King from behind.
The Black Dragon King tightened his grip on his blade.
I don’t like this.
Just the sight of some snot-nosed brat stepping up as if he intended to face him was enough to scratch at his pride.
And the looks from the men standing behind him were just as irritating.
Did they truly believe this little punk could be his opponent?
Doesn’t matter.
His mood came second.
The Black Dragon King knew better than most how important the flow of a battlefield was. Those young swordsmen of Mount Hua were stronger than he had expected, and the Tang Family was always a troublesome foe.
If they gained momentum here, the Water Bandits’ losses would only rise exponentially, even if he slaughtered them all. If he wanted to minimize casualties as much as possible, he had to crush their morale completely.
He had to show them how strong he was, and break their will to resist. And to do that…
Just killing him won’t be enough.
Vicious energy filled the Black Dragon King’s eyes.
He would tear that insolent brat limb from limb and show everyone exactly who he was. Not just them—but even Jang Il-so, who was watching from that far-off boat with leisurely amusement!
“To dare stand before me, you’ll regret it in hell—”
That was when it happened.
Cheong Myeong’s figure, sword leveled and glaring at him, vanished from sight in an instant.
What?
Instinctively, the Black Dragon King drove his inner energy upward and jerked his blade to shield his throat. It was the kind of movement forged by countless real battles—pure reflex.
And that single move saved his life.
KWA-A-A-A-A-AANG!
Like a ghost, Cheong Myeong’s sword appeared out of nowhere and was barely stopped by the Black Dragon King’s curved blade.
Kak! Kagagagak! Kak!
The piercing screech of thin steel grinding against thick steel rang out as the slender sword pressed brutally against the massive blade.
“You—”
The Black Dragon King’s eyes trembled.
If he had been even a split second slower, that sword would have driven straight into his throat. But what made his whole body break out in sweat was not the realization that his life had been in danger.
What the hell is this bastard?
Even while he shoved forward with the clear intent of slicing clean through the Black Dragon King’s neck, Cheong Myeong’s expression remained chillingly indifferent.
At that almost detached gaze, gooseflesh raced down the Black Dragon King’s spine.
Kagagagagagagak!
An unbelievable amount of force crashed down through the sword and pinned the blade in place. The Black Dragon King let out a beastlike roar as pain flashed through his wrist, as though it were being twisted apart.
“Huaaah!”
He forced his inner energy up and, with all his strength, shoved the blade forward.
But then the Black Dragon King saw it.
At the exact moment he pushed, no—just before he pushed his blade away, Cheong Myeong’s sword had already slipped aside, as if he had known it would happen.
It was all so clear, as though time had slowed.
The blade, driven forward with all his might, only ended up uselessly slicing through empty air where the sword had already vanished.
Cheong Myeong had so effortlessly let his strength pass by, and now he was slipping in beside the Black Dragon King.
At the sight of those eyes—empty of everything, and therefore all the more terrifying—the Black Dragon King stopped thinking and threw his body sideways with everything he had.
BOOM!
Despite his massive build, it was a footwork technique of terrifying speed.
In the blink of an eye, he had crossed more than ten jang, and cold sweat streamed down his chin in thick drops.
“……”
Blankly, he lifted one hand and looked at his left side. It was covered in white sand.
It had been the hand he planted on the ground while throwing himself aside. The sweat that soaked into that hand clung to his palm like a mark of humiliation.
Still dazed, the Black Dragon King looked down at his side next. The black martial robes that marked him, along with the armor worn beneath them, had been sliced open in a perfectly straight line, as if it had always been that way.
And then…
Drip, drip.
The side exposed beneath it had been split open wide enough to fit fingers in.
When he lifted his head, the Black Dragon King saw the back of the one who had lowered his sword.
Before he could even fully feel the strangeness and fear that back radiated, Cheong Myeong slowly turned to look at him.
“Bad luck.”
The cold voice cut through the silence. But even colder than the voice was the look in Cheong Myeong’s eyes as he stared at the Black Dragon King.
“You could’ve died without any pain.”
The sweat running down the Black Dragon King’s chin fell onto the blood pooled on the ground.
Plop.
That faint sound spread across Maehwado, where an oppressive silence hung like a funeral shroud.