Chapter 112
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 112
Chapter Title: Poison King (2)
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A competition to select the Tang Clan's young lord had begun.
The matches had no predetermined order of entry. It was simply a stage to evaluate the martial prowess befitting a young lord.
By precedent, the position would pass to the clan lord's direct descendant.
But this time, the previous young lord had failed in his duties, tarnishing the Tang Clan's reputation. To hold him accountable, they opened the opportunity to everyone and gave him a chance to reclaim his honor through victory.
The competition unfolded in the Tang Clan's direct training grounds.
A sparring platform stood at the center, with chairs arranged in a rectangular formation at a distance. The seats were prepared in order of rank, flanking the highest seat reserved for the clan lord.
"Let the young lord competition begin."
True to the Tang Clan's pragmatic nature, they skipped the tedious formalities and cut straight to the main event.
For Mujin, it was a relief to avoid the boring procedures. Outsiders weren't normally allowed to watch, but as an honored guest, he could observe.
Mujin's seat was at the far right end.
Given what he'd done, it wasn't exactly a prime spot. The farther from the clan lord's high seat, the lower the rank. The seating arrangement revealed the Tang Clan's hierarchy at a glance.
"Sit down already."
"This spot's fine for me."
Dang Yeonwoo stood rigidly behind Mujin, like a bodyguard protecting his lord. Whispers rippled around them about Yeonwoo, but Mujin dismissed it as barking dogs. Even as the matches progressed, Yeonwoo remained utterly indifferent.
"Not feeling resentful?"
"Should I?"
"Nah."
"This is the best I've felt in ages. Should've lived like this from the start. Why bow my head to worthless trash?"
This could be trouble.
Depending on how you looked at it, he'd severed his heavenly ties. If there was even a hint of resentment, you could say lingering affection for the Tang Clan remained. But Yeonwoo showed only apathy. He'd cut away all grudges and bonds in one stroke.
'No wonder the clan lord's on edge with me.'
Just days ago, things with the clan lord had been distant but without open friction. Mujin had resolved the Tang Clan's chronic issues and even saved his children. They weren't close, but courtesy had been maintained.
Yet from the day Yeonwoo returned, the clan lord's expression had turned icy. Sometimes he glared like Mujin had stolen something precious.
Just like now.
Instead of watching the tournament for the new young lord, the Tang Clan's head was fixated on Mujin.
-He looks like he wants his son back.
'This is on you.'
-You gonna give him back?
'Are you insane?'
He could probably restore him with the Soul-Piercing Demonic Eye, but side effects might arise again. No way was he risking that to hand over a treasure now in his grasp—no matter if it was the boy's own father.
'If he cherished him so much, he should've watched him closer. What's with the tantrum now?'
-Easy for you to say, since you don't wear your status on your sleeve like I do.
Though it was a competition for young lord, not everyone participated with eyes on the title. For the Tang Clan's prodigies, it was a rare chance to showcase their skills to all. Even without claiming the seat, they could solidify their standing by displaying their prowess.
Pa-pa-pa-pat! Ta-at!
Poison use was banned in the matches. The Tang Clan's toxins were too vicious; one slip could cost a life.
The Tang prodigies taking part demonstrated their martial arts and dark techniques to determine superiority.
As the competition heated up, the protagonist made his entrance.
The former young lord, Dang Yeoncheon, stepped onto the platform.
Dang Mugyeong, who had earned his challenge through strong performances, faced him. Mugyeong's skill was anticipated. Though lowest in direct bloodline rank, his martial prowess was exceptional. There had even been talk that, based purely on ability, he deserved the young lord position. He was four years older than Yeoncheon too.
"If you need time to recover your internal and external energy, I'll wait."
Yeoncheon magnanimously offered recovery time to Mugyeong, fresh off his last bout.
But Mugyeong demonstrated overwhelming power to crush his opponent, with minimal drain on strength or stamina. If anything, the fight had honed his combat senses.
"No need."
"Hmph, cocky tone."
"You're not young lord anymore."
"I'll make you show respect soon enough."
The audience couldn't hear, but even the rookies had instincts. Sensing the murderous intent, they could guess the exchange.
They assumed stances and clashed.
Hung!
Mugyeong's eyes sharpened at Yeoncheon's leisurely gesture. He'd been overlooked for even mention in past competitions due to his branch family ties.
But not this time.
'You were never my match before.'
Mugyeong's Fiery Palm Force, rooted in the Three Yang Arts, shot toward Yeoncheon.
Kwa-aang!
The heavy air-rending boom swept energy across the platform, spilling into the training grounds. When it cleared, the two fighters showed contrasting fortunes.
"...He blocked it!"
With one hand, no less.
"Not bad. But that's not nearly enough."
Yeoncheon, having casually blocked, countered with his own palm strike. The fact he struck right after blocking proved he took no damage.
Peo-eong!
It was an unexpected exchange. Mugyeong desperately tried to escape the palm force's range, but the counter was too swift.
Ta-da-da-dak! Pa-at!
The swirling currents from the palm strike sucked in the surroundings before abruptly expelling them.
Dangerous even at close range.
Hoo-a-a-aang!
At the last moment, Mugyeong kicked off the ground and leaped away. Free of the force, he searched for Yeoncheon.
"...Gone?"
"Right here."
The voice came from behind Mugyeong.
Jjureuk!
Sweat drenched his back. They'd sparred five years ago. Back then, Mugyeong could've won anytime but held back due to watchful eyes. Now, no need to hide. Victory here meant the young lord seat was his.
"Surprised because I've changed?"
"...It's not over yet!"
He could've ended it with a back strike. Defying expectations, Yeoncheon dominated Mugyeong. He'd surpassed his known level. Stepping down as young lord had fueled his determination.
As all eyes fixed on the match...
"What do you think?"
"Nothing special."
"Still, that's pretty decent, right?"
"Better than trash."
Yeonwoo's response to Mujin's question was merciless. You'd think he'd be thrilled or angry at his brother's showing, but he was nonchalant. To him, it was just another man unrelated to his life now.
'Mom's loving it.'
Jeon Su-ran sat beside the clan lord, beaming with pride at her son's dominance. She shot Mujin glares now and then, smirking when their eyes met.
'Even worthless scum's son is still her son, huh.'
-She treasures her worthless son like you.
The analogy hit too close to argue.
When he'd shone as the clan's delinquent prodigy, his mother and wife had backed him unwaveringly. Recalling those days, filial piety was a must.
Throw a fit without it, and you're no man.
His father had received plenty, so that was aside. Dad was probably grateful even now.
'But don't get the wrong idea.'
Jeon Su-ran mistakenly thought Mujin was backing Yeonwoo for the young lord spot. He wanted to clarify the pointless misunderstanding, but it wouldn't change her mind.
Keu-eok!
Mugyeong, struck by Yeoncheon's palm, couldn't hold and tumbled off the platform. Not fatal, but he couldn't continue.
"Want more?"
"...I yield."
Having shown overwhelming might with little depletion, Yeoncheon's reappointment as young lord was all but certain.
Yeoncheon's skills had indeed improved since Mujin knocked him out. Not impressively so, though. Surrounded by far superior talents, Yeoncheon was barely a cut above a common pebble.
Still, sharing blood, his aptitude wasn't lacking. Otherwise, he couldn't have been young lord.
"Anyone who wants my seat, step up."
Arrogant words laced with leisure, but as victor, they weren't flaws. It was Yeoncheon's deliberate bid to restore the young lord's dignity.
Swik!
Sweeping the crowd, Yeoncheon smirked at Yeonwoo. A smug declaration that trash like him couldn't aspire to it.
Ssi-eek!
But this wasn't the old Yeonwoo. No longer the naive pushover who cheered his brother—this was a man bold enough to sneer back.
That seat? You have it.
His expression said it all. Western blood made his thoughts transparently vivid.
Warak!
As if to prove it, Yeoncheon's face stiffened briefly before relaxing.
"Time to get up."
"It's not over yet."
Yeoncheon had dominated his son-in-law, flaunting his power. Mugyeong's one-sided defeat deterred challengers.
Then, from the crowd, a pale-faced, slender youth ascended the platform.
"Dang Yeonsu?"
"Why him?"
The audience buzzed in surprise. His sunless white skin and frail build made Yeonsu's challenge unexpected. In truth, he'd been bedridden with illness for five years, rarely venturing out. For him to challenge for young lord seemed pure recklessness.
Yet he had the qualifications.
Yeonsu was Dang Jinsin's grandson. Excluding Dang Myeonghu's sons, his claim was ironclad.
"A sickly wretch chasing delusions."
"Thank you for your concern. But I'm fully recovered now. Shall we begin?"
"Choices have prices. You'll regret this soon."
"As a direct descendant, I'll give my all."
Undaunted by Yeoncheon's threats, Yeonsu calmly stated his piece. No arrogance, no overconfidence. He took his stance, showed respect, and fulfilled his role.
Hm.
From the high seat, Dang Myeonghu glanced at his uncle on the left. After his son's death, his uncle's only grandson was Yeonsu. He'd scoured everywhere to cure the boy's frailty, but saw no progress.
Or so he'd thought.
"I wanted to give my grandson a chance too."
Rather than greed for the seat, it seemed the grandfather's desperate wish for one last opportunity for his kin.
'Did he know?'
Myeonghu eyed Mujin, seated afar.
The aura Mujin showed in the clan lord's chamber had been beyond imagination—like facing a peerless master of the era. An oppressive presence that made even twitching a finger impossible. Yet his words were flippant, almost vulgar. Trading in oddities irked him.
But it was proving true.
If the investigations held...
Myeonghu kept his inner thoughts hidden, even if true. For the plan to work, Yeonsu had to defeat Yeoncheon.
'Don't do anything you'll regret.'
Surprising as it was, the mood stayed light. No one thought Yeonsu could win against Yeoncheon. Exchanging a few blows would be lucky.
Pa-pa-pat! Ta-at!
The match began.
Defying all expectations, Yeonsu traded blows evenly with Yeoncheon. He parried the fist strikes simply and returned them. Their moves interlocked precisely, as if he anticipated the next one.
Pa-a-a-ang!
His internal energy level was impressive too. Not just raw power—he wielded it optimally at will.
Peo-peo-peo-peong!
Over a dozen exchanges flashed by, yet Yeoncheon neither gained the edge nor pushed him back. Stunned by the absurdity, Yeoncheon surged his energy and unleashed palm strikes, trying to overwhelm with superior internal force.
Hwiriri-rik! Pa-at!
Yeonsu's hand traced a bizarre arc, swirling and drawing in the palm force before it vanished emptily.
Ghostly Calculation Hand Dissolution.
A lost Tang Clan technique merging Four-Two Evasion with Flower Redirect. Incredibly intricate and hard to master, it had faded with time. It demanded sharp eyes and swift calculations.
Even with those, flawless internal-external foundations were needed for real combat.
"No way!"
"Impossible!"
The crowd gasped at the fearsome palm force dissolving with a gesture. Was such a technique even possible? A forceful block would've been easier to accept.
-That guy's partially opened his Heavenly Eye.
'That move's tough without it. How'd he open his Heavenly Eye?'
-Treating blocked meridians can unlock it. He might've had the Heavenly Yin Blocked Meridian.
'Don't those kill before twenty?'
-Sometimes treatment grants abilities. Heavenly Eye opens from curing Heavenly Yin or Nine Yin Blocked Meridians. As a guy, Heavenly Yin's more likely.
Curing blocked meridians overnight was tough; even spirit medicines needed near-divine physicians. The Tang Clan excelled in medicine, yet meridians stumped them. Lesser skills didn't cut it.
'Smells fishy.'
-They wouldn't touch him directly. Probably left him alone or handled it indirectly.
Denying Demonic Cult of the Demon God ties was hard. No one rivaled them in unraveling bodily mysteries. Some connection was certain, but tracing it would be tough if things went awry. They'd build foundations first before acting.