Chapter 33
Chapter 33
“The Martial Alliance Leader is holding a martial arts tournament? You don’t mean the Martial Alliance Tournament?”
“What else would it be? Is there another tournament the Martial Alliance Leader would host?”
“Oh! The Martial Alliance Tournament!”
Seol-yeong carefully sheathed the sword she polished, her excitement evident.
“If I remember correctly, it’s held once every two years… So this must be the year?”
Her eyes sparkled as she spoke, clearly thrilled at the prospect of a tournament hosted by the Martial Alliance Leader.
She’s been lacking spirit these past few days.
It seemed she could not forget how helplessly she fared against the Eight Demons.
It was a common frustration among martial artists. All the more so for Seol-yeong, who was little more than a newcomer to the martial world.
“A martial arts tournament? What’s that?”
At Changa’s question, Seol-yeong answered eagerly,
“What else? Just what it sounds like—a tournament of martial bouts. The greatest spectacle and gathering in the martial world, where the most promising young warriors from across the continent—including the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Clans—assemble to measure their strength against one another!”
“A spectacle….”
Turning to Yeo Il, Seol-yeong added,
“I heard that the Four Rising Dragons were decided at the tournament four years ago. Namgung Jeok-myeong, Gwon Ja-seong, Bang U, and Wi Seo-ryeon fought for three days and nights without a clear victor. In the end, Namgung Jeok-myeong prevailed.”
If they fought for three days and nights, their skills must have been evenly matched.
“Wow—really? Then what about two years ago? Did the Sogaju (Clan Heir) win then too?”
“No. At that time, because of Salmak, the atmosphere in the martial world was so tense that only the sect leaders and clan heads gathered to discuss countermeasures. No large contingents could leave their respective regions.”
At that, fragments of the past surfaced faintly in Yeo Il’s mind. Four years ago, when the martial world’s attention was focused on the Martial Alliance conference, the mission assigned to her… It was also the beginning of her betrayal of Salmak.
Jin Cheong-ak, tapping an empty plate with his fingertips, grinned with crumbs at the corner of his mouth.
“You know quite a lot, Seol-yeong.”
“Hm? Ahem. It’s not that I went digging for information. Just… living in the clan, one naturally hears things.”
As Seol-yeong coughed awkwardly, Changa asked again,
“Then does that mean this tournament is being held again after four years instead of two?”
“That’s right. After four whole years of honing their skills, a flood of new talents and established young masters will appear. It will be quite a sight. Indeed.”
Seol-yeong’s eyes plainly declared that she wanted to go, to watch, to participate.
“But why is Namgung Hui-myeong pestering Brother Ak? Doesn’t he already have an excellent master?”
“That excellent master happens to be our excellent Clan Head.”
“…Ah.”
As the direct third son of the Namgung Clan and one who underwent marrow cleansing, Namgung Hui-myeong would naturally have no master other than the Clan Head.
Realizing this belatedly, Seol-yeong nodded. Jin Cheong-ak rose lazily.
“It’s said that after that excellent Clan Head fell ill, our proud Sogaju (Clan Heir) took on the role of instructor. But since he’s drowning in wine and women and paying no mind to the tournament, perhaps the young master wants to grasp even at a rotten rope. Such heartbreaking fervor.”
“…What kind of expression is ‘rotten rope’? Who here doesn’t know your skill, Brother Ak?”
“Well. There is no more fitting expression when it comes to me.”
He lifted Changa from Yeo Il’s lap and set her back on the chair before strolling toward Yeo Il’s chamber. He looked tired, likely worn down by Namgung Hui-myeong’s persistence.
Though Jin Cheong-ak was bold, rude, and handsome enough to make one mistake that rudeness for charm, he was not especially sociable. In particular, he found those who clung to him begging for instruction utterly exhausting.
“Tsk. Brother Ak will have a hard time for a while. Namgung Hui-myeong isn’t one to give up easily.”
He likely did not realize that Seol-yeong herself was once his first such target.
As dusk approached, they returned to their rooms early.
If Namgung Chu-myeong came, Yeo Il would need to cough blood again with a frail expression. Thus, she lay on the bed, feigning illness.
Watching her, Seol-yeong let out a short sigh.
“That Sogaju (Clan Heir)… he seems more ruthless than I thought. The state of this household is already precarious, yet he ignores even the martial arts tournament and keeps absenting himself. Is he truly someone we can trust?”
“Seol-yeong, you really are quite invested in this tournament.”
Pretending not to hear, Seol-yeong dragged over a chair and sat, grumbling.
“You said the second son will soon leave the clan to replace his human mask, didn’t you? It’s obvious he’ll make his move during this tournament. And the fallout will surely reach you as well. While the tournament is underway, we’ll be stuck in this clan—together with Namgung Chu-myeong!”
The first to respond was not Yeo Il, but Jin Cheong-ak.
Sprawled flat on the floor, he laughed incredulously and stuffed a small confection into his mouth.
“A human mask? This family strife is no ordinary affair. It’s the kind served on an emperor’s table.”
“Why would an emperor eat this family’s mess? It’s filthy enough to cause indigestion.”
“Hm. What shall we do, Miss Namgung? When the tournament begins, shall we turn the Namgung Clan into a sea of blood? If they’re going so far as to wear human masks, they’re no minor players. They must already be in league. Hahaha.”
“Stop saying horrifying things.”
Though the weather was sultry, Yeo Il pulled the bedding up to her chin. After a long pause, she said,
“Very well.”
Seol-yeong, who had been passionately denouncing the clan’s internal chaos, turned to her in alarm.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, very well.”
“Very well what? Turning the clan into a sea of blood?”
“There is no need to overcomplicate matters or delay further. I believe we have shown the Sogaju (Clan Heir) sufficient consideration. The moment a message arrives from Chwihyang Garden, we will move.”
“So you are saying we will turn the clan into a sea of blood? Is that it, Miss?”
The plan was simple.
When Namgung Jeok-myeong and Namgung Hui-myeong left the clan to attend the Martial Alliance Tournament, they would seize the opportunity to interrogate Namgung Chu-myeong.
And extract the truth.
Thus resolved, Yeo Il coughed blood the moment Namgung Chu-myeong entered to inquire after her health half a shichen later.
“Good heavens, Soyo! Again today!”
But as always in Yeo Il’s life, no plan ever unfolded exactly as intended.