Chapter 56
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: I Said It (3)
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An awakened Kwon Hoo would carry weight in her words. But for now, she was nothing more than the pampered flower of the Nangong family. A fledgling Great Lotus with some competence. Her statements needed more trials to gain any real substance.
'What do you think?'
-You think I'm some Zhuge Liang? You'll figure it out when you see it!
'If not, just say no. Why get pissed and act like that.'
-Once you're inside, it's easy to cut off from the outside.
'That's obvious.'
It was the inner sanctum of the Nangong family, hailed as the world's greatest clan. There was no way infiltrating from outside would be simple. Conversely, it meant getting out after entering wouldn't be easy either.
-It's straightforward. Still don't get it?
This guy always dragged things out to the end.
He kept laying bait, expecting me to interpret his words myself. Fine, Mujin had his own way of dealing with it.
-...Don't.
'Don't make me drag it out.'
-You sneaky bastard!
'Do that again and I'm shutting you out! Get to the point.'
-It's hard to pull something off from outside. You'd get caught before you even try.
If the Demonic Cult of the Demon God had brought their full main force, it might be different, but they didn't have enough to crush the Nangong family by brute force. If they had, the incident at the Nangong family would have spread far and wide. It was impossible to fool the eyes and ears of everyone gathered for the Little Dragon Tournament.
'So to act from inside, you'd need someone familiar. That guy's the most likely, but it doesn't add up.'
-Exactly.
Did they use poison?
The Sichuan Tang Clan was there too. No one on the continent matched them in poisons—not even the Demonic Cult of the Demon God. Let alone spreading poison at the heart of the Nangong family? If that worked, the Tang Clan would have unified the continent long ago.
They might have used something like the peerless Formless Finger Poison, but that was unlikely. So another method, and the most probable was sorcery.
'They could have used sorcery.'
-Even that guy's sorcery wouldn't cut it. Even at its peak, Soul-Piercing Demonic Eye can't take down absolute experts easily.
'Headache.'
-Anyone hearing you would think you're actually pondering it.
It was just talk.
But right now, there were more pressing matters than such worries. Mujin wrapped up the petty squabble over observing the Nangong family.
"...Where are you going?"
"Continental Battlefield."
"Why there?"
"Why? Gotta collect my money."
Nangong Yeonhwa's delicate face twisted again. She should never have expected anything from this man to begin with. Even the slightest hope led to disappointment like a thunderclap.
Kukuku. Look at all this!
Drop dead, you bastard!
Watching Mujin beam with satisfaction only fueled her rising ire.
The Little Dragon Tournament's quarterfinals had ended.
A chill wind blew over the arena like frost from the north. People always have their perceived limits. But once those limits are shattered, they fall into stunned despair.
The unknown rebel's rampage was a string of upsets, ultimately toppling the Tang family's hidden dragon and Nangong's soaring heavens.
"That murderer's gone too far!"
"Headbutting at the end was overkill!"
"The sound was so loud, I thought his skull split open!"
"He didn't fake his age, did he?"
"That face screams over forty!"
The matches unfolded like this.
Tang Cheon-ho's fist arts, in which he had supreme confidence in speed, battered Nam Cheol-ho's entire body. The Tang family's proud Three Great Step Techniques—Chasing Thunder Phantom Steps—were truly exceptional. Powered by divine strength, they seemed a perfect counter to Nam Cheol-ho's fists. Indeed, the early stages favored Tang Cheon-ho.
But as Nam Cheol-ho's Severing Void Steps began slicing away at the space, Tang Cheon-ho was gradually pushed to the edge in the confined arena.
Tang Cheon-ho adapted the Tang family's famed dark arts, Nine Rings Kill, into his fists to target Nam Cheol-ho's vital points, but the Iron-Blooded Lion Art's stubborn resilience prevailed. Pinned at the arena's edge, Tang Cheon-ho was utterly humiliated.
To the spectators, it looked like Tang Cheon-ho's one-sided assault ended in a lucky reversal.
But not everyone's insight was equal. True experts scrutinized every detail of the exchange.
'Started clumsy, but he's getting the hang of it.'
'It's not just power—the body's tempering is beyond imagination.'
'He carved up the space, herding him where he wanted.'
'Tang's serpent danced in his palm.'
Rather than Tang Cheon-ho's immaturity—he was still growing—Nam Cheol-ho's growth in sealing the win shone brightest. He was evolving relentlessly since the tournament began.
And what of Kang Taejin versus Nangong Hyeon?
The result defied expectations, but it was a sword master's duel. Sword Scholar Nangong Hyeon unleashed perfected mid-level swordsmanship, while Kang Taejin countered with speed and unpredictability.
Nangong Hyeon pressured with the essence of mid-swords, but couldn't land a decisive blow against Taejin's swift, erratic moves.
After fierce exchanges, the finish came down to adaptability.
Taejin had used tricky techniques, but never strayed far from orthodox sword principles—just flashes of brilliance within set paths. But at the end, he reversed a first form of Pine Tiger Five Swords, shaking Nangong Hyeon's sword mastery.
Like a needle hidden in a pouch, thrusting unpredictably, the reverse grip sword exploited the flaw in perfected swordsmanship, seizing the advantage.
Kang Taejin didn't let that advantage slip.
Like a starving tiger never dropping guard even with prey in paw, he methodically dismantled the sword master. Even if hailed as a precocious prodigy, he was still a kid.
"What the hell is going on?!"
"Breaking Nangong swords in their own backyard!"
"That final move was exquisite."
"First time in Nangong history, right?"
"Those two know each other!"
It was unprecedented in Nangong family tournaments for their sword not to reach the finals. The defeat of their most accomplished sword scholar ever was a shock.
The Five Great Clans felt the embarrassment equally.
Sacrificed to an unknown's hype—hard to stomach.
'Higher sword completion.'
'Battle-hardened sword.'
'A genius?'
'Watch Pine Tiger Sect closely.'
'His father... Hmm, hard to say.'
'Why the Great Lotus?'
Taejin's sword exuded the polish of real combat experience. Displaying such proficiency at his age wasn't simple. Even high realms falter from inexperience.
"Who do you think wins?"
"Flying Tiger Sword, obviously."
"Fierce Demon Claw looks tough too."
"At this point, that face ain't bad."
"Warriors don't live off looks."
"If it pleases the eyes, why not."
"He faked his age!"
Cheers for Taejin grew steadily, but as the tournament progressed, Cheol-ho's notoriety rose too. Reaching the finals shifted opinions. Some still struggled to accept him, but efforts to adapt emerged.
Even after the match, as Cheol-ho vented rage, the crowd's warming mood left him bewildered, then he calmed. Vowing to shatter the world, yet his heart was paper-thin.
'No good.'
-Here we go again.
Can't get complacent.
"That face won't do."
"Warriors don't need faces."
"True, but that mug? Tough sell. Too scary."
"I'll become a master for sure!"
"Not even a regular master."
"Why are you doing this to me?"
"Why? For your own good. Absolute masters get different looks. Still, not my daughter. Stare and you're dead."
Cheol-ho, lost in cheers, was brutally shredded by Mujin's barrage. Every time his heart softened, Mujin jabbed at his face, reigniting fury.
Cheol-ho trembled with injustice.
Meanwhile, Mujin pretended to dote on his son Taejin. Sons needed just enough guidance—they thrived tossed into wild mountains.
"For the win celebration, what do you want to eat, son?"
"Dad, I have no feelings for hyung."
"Who said be buddies."
"Like this?"
"What's wrong with it. Oh right. Wound on his left side. Strike and retreat there—you'll win easy."
"...Dad!"
Facing Cheol-hyung's murderous glare, Taejin felt awkward. Dad was obviously using him to prod Cheol-hyung. He'd warned him not to fall for it countless times, but Cheol-hyung was as thick as a wall.
'Please don't fall for the obvious ploy.'
Dad's relentless favoritism and sowing discord was infuriating even knowing it.
"Get up on stage already."
Quarterfinals and finals were same-day. To keep the heat going. But for Nangong hosting others' party at home, it was awkward. Even semifinalists felt the odd vibe.
As son and Cheol-ho took the stage, the cooled atmosphere reignited. Spectators preferred fresh stars over repeats. Greater resentment toward Five Clans meant louder cheers.
"Kukuku, this'll make some cash."
"You already made plenty. How much more?"
"Strike while the iron's hot—more money's always better. Think a rich miss knows us common folk's hearts?"
"Money-crazed, who're you calling common!"
Nangong Yeonhwa watched Mujin handle his son and Cheol-ho, clicking her tongue. She knew he wasn't right in the head, but he was crazier than thought. How such a normal son came from him—biological ties seemed doubtful.
"Another bet?"
"No."
"Great Lotus scared?"
"You vulgar cur!"
If not in public, she'd... No. People watching kept him to words. Cross the line, public humiliation possible. That thick-skinned bastard would do it.
"Today's peak odds—sure?"
"If nothing happens, where's that leave me?! Won't take responsibility."
"All this on the line. Deal?"
"Drop dead!"
Nangong Yeonhwa couldn't take more and stormed off.
Mujin smirked as she left. Using her wasn't without merit—if played right, desired results followed. Even if she pretended otherwise, seeds of doubt lingered. Especially if something happened today—the panicked side was set.
'Buy me a round later.'
First, place the bets. Money thrives where light meets dark, swelling in shadows. He went all-in to recoup fully.
'Won't pay? Fine, die then.'