Chapter 57
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 57
Chapter Title: See, I Told You (1)
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Blaze! Blaze!
Flames were materializing in his eyes. Cheol-ho's fighting spirit roared to life. It embodied his unbreakable resolve to win today no matter what, a tear-jerking testament to his efforts to overcome his previous defeat.
Taejin, facing such a Cheol-ho, let out a deep sigh. Words weren't going to get through to him anymore. Even if they did, nothing would change.
'He's acting like I'm the enemy, not Dad.'
Looking down at his father grinning ear-to-ear from the audience, raking in bets, filled him with boiling rage.
"I'll never lose to you!"
"You've said that before... Ah! Don't get the wrong idea. It's true you said it last time. I'm not making stuff up."
Like father, like son.
No matter how much he denied it, he couldn't escape the "proper" upbringing he'd received. They say you see the parents in the child for a reason—whether conscious or not, true nature was hard to hide.
"You're just like him."
"How am I like him! Even if you're my brother, I can't let that slide! I'm the victim here."
"You have everything, so I'll smash it all!"
"Who says I want it!"
He only had one dad, and that dad wasn't even normal. If anything, their father was the root of this mess. So why take it out on him when he couldn't even complain to the old man?
Taejin's own frustration boiled over, and he didn't hold back his words.
"You can't even talk back to Dad, but I'm an easy target!"
"Take that back!"
He'd touched a nerve. So what? Words once spoken couldn't be unsaid.
Taejin wasn't one to dwell on the past either. Ever since enduring his father's brutal "training" disguised as abuse, his temperament had toughened considerably.
"Surprisingly, these two are sworn brothers. It's astonishing to see two people with such close ties take the stage."
"Let the finals begin."
Dong! Dong! Dong!
The drums echoed.
Cheol-ho and Taejin charged at each other without hesitation, shattering the audience's expectations of a courteous match between fellow sect members.
Bam!
Their clash was explosive. Before the shockwaves could spread, sword and fist infused with qi carved out their domains, tracing deadly arcs.
Pa-pa-pa-pat! Tang!
The air screamed with a sound unbelievable for fist against wooden sword, unleashing a close-range blitz of speed. They fiercely vied for air superiority to seize the advantage.
In an instant, at breathing distance, he dazzled with footwork swaying left and right to sow confusion.
Swish!
The sword slashed horizontally. Cheol-ho, diving low, aimed a kick at Taejin's head.
Clang!
Even in an awkward stance threatening his balance, power surged through Cheol-ho's kick—proof of his diligent horse stance training strengthening his legs.
Taejin's response was swift and perfectly timed. Rather than retrieving his sword, he targeted Cheol-ho's torso with his right foot.
Thud!
Cheol-ho, forced to block Taejin's strike with his arm, saw his kick's trajectory veer into empty air. But he felt no disappointment. Instead, he used the recoil to unleash the Iron Blood Lion Fist.
Grrrroar.
The Lion Subduing Dragon—a lion's roar to dominate the dragon.
A powerful roar shook the soul before striking; it might seem sneaky, but in real combat, anything went. Holding back in a life-or-death struggle? That was the whining of the well-fed.
Whoosh!
The Lion Neck Breaker tore through the air. Blood sprayed—had it grazed him?
Whirl!
Taejin spun like a top to evade, then slammed his recovered wooden sword toward the ground.
Boom!
Chunks of the solid granite floor shattered, shards flying viciously. Seizing the moment, Taejin used the sword as a brace to target Cheol-ho's neck—a chained assault accounting for the follow-up.
Thwack!
The strike landed.
'Damn it!'
Taejin's reaction was off.
Instead of retreating as expected, Cheol-ho pressed forward. He absorbed the qi-infused kick with his body, pulling Taejin into the range of his Iron Blood Lion Fist.
"Got you!"
Give flesh to take bone.
Without their prior bout, Cheol-ho might have been overwhelmed defending. But that fight let him predict Taejin's moves. Still, Taejin knew Cheol-ho's style too.
"Not so sure about that!"
Taejin knew Cheol-ho's durability better than anyone. An absurdly tough body. That's why he couldn't back off—once he did, escaping Cheol-ho's single-hit step was near impossible.
It looked slow on the surface, but over short distances, it was lightning-fast. Like shrinking the earth with a spell.
Thud-thud-thud!
Fists crossed paths.
Facing, clashing, twisting.
Taejin favored the sword but wasn't wedded to weapons. For victory, he wielded fist techniques too, no weaker than his swordplay. Training with his father had naturally honed his fists.
"You spoiled brat!"
"I'm not!"
Unable to gain the edge even in fists, Cheol-ho's rage intensified. Envy and jealousy fueled his Iron Blood Lion Fist.
Pa-pa-pa-pat! Boom!
Their duel turned from fierce to savage. Not blood brothers, but far deadlier than any prior clash. Even with wooden sword and bare fists, it was a razor-edge deathmatch.
The audience's faces mirrored the brutality.
"...They're sect brothers!"
"How are those sect brothers!"
"They look like it from the fighting!"
"They're trying to kill each other."
As the intensity peaked, cheers swelled—but so did worried glances. Conversely, the Five Great Families' warriors visibly relaxed. It gave them a convincing excuse for their heirs' defeats.
'They're getting stronger mid-fight.'
'Unbelievable.'
'But a warrior's talent comes from the family.'
'It'll be different from here.'
The elders dispatched from the Five Great Families shared this view. They'd been strong at that age, battle-tested with few peers. But individuals couldn't surpass sects. Rare geniuses might rise to grandmaster with fortune, but the Families' accumulated might was untouchable.
Swish.
Mujin swept his gaze over the Five Great Families, who marveled yet clung to their pride. He knew their hidden arrogance all too well—the smug eyes he'd seen endlessly in the future.
'That's why they fall.'
-Spot on.
'Clinging to history built by worthless posers, no vigilance at all.'
-A complacent is frail.
The Central Plains had enjoyed long peace. The brutal martial world stagnated; upheavals vanished. Powerful sects and families grew mightier. Fine if they'd built solid foundations, but they'd bloated without substance.
'An incident breaking out wouldn't be bad.'
-Don't call trouble "not bad."
'It's not trouble.'
-Our souls are linked.
Damn this soul-link with him.
He should seal the door. But he needed this guy's skills. Detecting schemes or demonic qi? The Demon King excelled there. In sudden crises, he'd at least extract his son. Closing the door might make him sulk and ignore calls—trouble.
'Any suspects?'
-You think demons spew qi everywhere? Idiots like that don't need worrying.
'Fair. Often, non-demonic arts users were riskier.'
-Demonic arts lead straight to demonhood, but orthodox arts don't guarantee purity.
The Demonic Cult of the Demon God was unique. Contrary to expectations of demonic arts, many trained orthodox styles. But their personalities? Vicious to a one, heedless as if not killing meant their own death.
'Something's brewing, but the method's unclear.'
-When did you ever know?
Nangong Yeonhwa, absent from the arena vicinity lately. He hoped for her efforts. Feigning otherwise, her family loyalty as Sword Phoenix proved true. If the family's fall shattered her, she might spark chaos.
'Sooner the better for me.'
Rooooar!
His thoughts vanished amid the erupting cheers. The outcome was as predicted.
"The winner of the Little Dragon Tournament is Pine Tiger Sect's Kang Taejin."
Rooooar!
Justice prevailed!
As cheers swelled, Cheol-ho's Iron Blood Lion Fist surged. A rematch now might endanger Taejin. But alas, victory was sealed in the moment.
'This damn world—I'll smash it all!'
Nangong Yeonhwa meticulously scoured the family grounds. She didn't fully trust that man's nonsense, but it left a bad aftertaste. Worse, it spelled trouble either way—right or wrong.
'Annoying bastard!'
As he'd said, external intrusion was impossible. Issues would arise internally.
That's why Mujin's words nagged—traitors within. No different from declaring, "Your family's a mess!"
'Better not be.'
Still, full preparations were needed. His words might be unreliable, but her unease around her uncle was real. People were like that—ignore it, nothing; notice it, endless suspicion.
'Five years' absence.'
Her uncle had lost an arm and wandered; returned after five years. That's when "Poison Sword" stuck. Switching to left-hand sword, he proved unchanged. No doubts then—left-hand training was tough in-sect; he'd roamed for it.
'Five years isn't long.'
Regaining peak form left-handed after five years from right? Easier said than done, even with grueling effort.
'I told Uncle, so no big issues.'
Just in case, she'd consulted High Sword Elder Nangong Jin. If anyone, he was Father's right hand. No hard proof, but he'd tightened security.
"What now?"
Speak of the tiger...
Nangong Je's sharp features blocked her path. Normally, she'd brush it off as a stroll, but per Mujin, she went direct.
"Got a tip."
"What tip justifies this fuss? It could stain the family's honor."
"About an outside intruder."
Nangong Je's eyes flashed ferociously.
"Who dares spout such nonsense! Bring the tipster now."
"I told High Sword Uncle, so Father will know soon. No need for Uncle to worry."
As Nangong Yeonhwa left to patrol, Nangong Je's displeasure showed. An unforeseen worst-case snag in his smooth plans.
'Who the hell!'
Everything could go wrong.
Figures approached from behind Nangong Je—men he'd brought from outside. Integrating them took time; they helped build his base.
"Surveil Yeonhwa. Capture the tipster alive if spotted. If not, kill both."
"Yes."
No mid-plan leak possible, so conclusion: internal traitor.