The Seat of the Sect Master
"You... are the scion of Cheonseong, I see."
"You know of me?"
"Hohoho. Hardly anyone in this land doesn't know your face."
Seong Yong-ho smiled benevolently.
"Wherever you go, disaster follows you like a tail. You make such a spectacle that even word of it reached my ears."
"Being remembered by the Sect Master, in whatever form, is an honor."
"...You have more patience than I expected."
Lee Tae-hyun continued to meet Seong Yong-ho's gaze in his usual slouching posture.
Though retired from active duty, the man's aura burned more fiercely than that of most ranked hunters.
The very model of an ideal elder swordsman. Truly fitting for the master who had held the #1 spot in the Korean hunter rankings longer than anyone.
"Sect Master, that man is—!"
"I am speaking, Gyu-ho. Do not interrupt."
Seong Yong-ho extended a hand and stopped Seong Gyu-ho short.
"Now then, scion of Cheonseong. Your sudden visit to the Sword Sect has caught me somewhat off guard."
His eyes sank sharply.
"This is not a place just anyone may carelessly tread."
At the same moment, a tremendous pressure descended upon the entire space.
"Kgh...!"
"...Ugh."
Dizziness washed over their heads, and sweat beaded instantly on the backs of their necks. Baek Seo-ha and Seong Gyu-ho struggled desperately to reclaim their breath—
but Lee Tae-hyun still faced Seong Yong-ho with a perfectly at ease expression.
'How on earth is he facing the Sect Master without so much as a flicker of color on his face?!'
The two of them cried out in silent, astonished disbelief.
Yet from Lee Tae-hyun's standpoint, it was nothing short of comical.
'This old man's a nasty piece of work.'
The pressure he was feeling now wasn't bravado or intimidation—it was something else entirely.
'A cheap trick that floods the area by releasing mana.'
In other words, the exact same technique Lee Tae-hyun had used at the press conference.
If you understand the principle, of course you know how to counter it.
'Just push it out of the way by releasing an equal amount of mana. Simple as that.'
Using a pitiful thimbleful of mana as efficiently as possible demanded considerable skill in mana control.
No matter how talentless Lee Tae-hyun was supposed to be, he had spent close to a lifetime honing that control.
'Petty tricks like this—'
weren't going to work on him. Not even a little.
Kugugugugu!
Lee Tae-hyun released his own mana and crushed the entire area underfoot instead.
"Keugh!"
"Kkuuuuh...!"
"What...!"
Baek Seo-ha and Seong Gyu-ho—even Fujiwara Manabu.
All three scrambled against the pressure radiating from Lee Tae-hyun, clutching at their choked throats.
"......!"
Seong Yong-ho's eyebrows twitched, and he withdrew his mana. Lee Tae-hyun, smiling faintly, retracted his own in kind.
"My apologies if that was uncomfortable. But I believe even I have the right to open that door whenever I please."
Lee Tae-hyun crossed his arms as he spoke.
"After all, I am the rightful successor of the Azure Dragon Seven Forms."
"Successor? You?"
"Yes. That's right."
"That can't be..."
Actions over words. Rather than claiming it with his mouth, it was better to show undeniable proof.
"Mind if I borrow a sword?"
"Huh? Uh...?"
Lee Tae-hyun drew the blade from Baek Seo-ha's scabbard.
What unfolded from his hands was a fluid, seamless sequence of sword forms.
Like flowing water, each form of the Azure Dragon's blade connected naturally into the next.
Before long, Lee Tae-hyun finished the final form and gave an ostentatious shrug of his shoulders.
"You saw it, didn't you?"
"...Gyu-ho. What in the world is going on here?"
"W-well, you see..."
In a trembling voice, Seong Gyu-ho summarized everything that had happened of late. By the time he'd heard the full account, veins stood out on Seong Yong-ho's forehead.
"Such an absurd thing...!"
"I...! I'm so sorry!"
Seong Yong-ho barely swallowed his fury and turned sharper eyes on Lee Tae-hyun.
The air was charged enough that he might draw his sword at any moment—
"Tch."
—but one way or another, Lee Tae-hyun was the man who had formally inherited the Azure Dragon Seven Forms through the Ascendance Ceremony.
He was hardly an outsider; he was practically one of the Sword Sect's own.
"Very well. I acknowledge that you have the qualification."
"I'm deeply honored."
As expected, choosing the Sword Sect as his first sect had been the right call. Otherwise, he'd have had no pretext to wedge himself into this situation.
"Now that my qualification's been recognized, allow me to offer an opinion of my own."
"An opinion?"
"Swapping in that bastard as your direct disciple. I'm against it."
Lee Tae-hyun stretched out his right index finger and pointed at Manabu.
"Th... that bastard?!"
"Yeah. You."
"You dare address me—!"
Manabu's face twisted into a snarl, but Lee Tae-hyun brushed it off without a second glance.
"I cannot entrust the future of the Sword Sect to a piece of trash like that."
"And why do you think so?"
"The Sword Demon of the archipelago. Do I really need to say more?"
Sword Demon. That was the origin of the epithet—
"A murderer who butchered his entire clan, serving as Sect Master? What kind of ancient, senile joke is that?"
It lay in the fact that Manabu had uprooted his own family—
the Fujiwara clan—by his own hand.
"Mind your tongue. You call him a murderer?"
Of course, there was a reason Manabu could walk around with his head held high after killing countless relatives with his own two hands.
"He merely gave form to justice."
"Hah... The Sect Master is correct."
Manabu adjusted his glasses as he spoke.
"Vile experiments were conducted within our family, and I nearly became one of their victims. When resistance and survival were the only alternative to being slaughtered—does that truly make me a murderer?"
The Fujiwara clan had been a prestigious house that produced numerous high-ranking hunters.
Yet a single incident erased the family from Japanese history in an instant.
'The Crimson Night Incident. Or the Annihilation of the Fujiwara Clan.'
The secret behind the Fujiwara family's knack for producing exceptional awakened individuals was, in truth, the culmination of a vicious experiment that ground up countless human lives.
And the boy who had nearly become that experiment's sacrifice had, all on his own, turned the tables and wiped out every member of the family that sought to kill him.
That boy's name was Fujiwara Manabu.
This man, right here.
"Well, now. That incident still has a few murky corners, doesn't it?"
In the immediate aftermath, Manabu had been subjected to an awakening aptitude test by the Japanese Hunter Bureau using official measuring equipment.
The result: E-rank.
A shockingly low figure for someone said to have killed every member of a family brimming with accomplished fighters.
And yet.
"All of that is ancient history."
As a hunter, Manabu had proven himself endlessly.
And so, despite his E-rank nature, he clawed his way up to a position rivaling A-rank hunters.
Despite being born with low potential, he displayed skill beyond his limits—and so people came to call him this:
'Irregular.'
"So there is no problem with me becoming the direct disciple and the next Sect Master."
"Well, technically, no."
Legally, the matter was long settled. Evidence that the Fujiwara family had forced the experiments forward was abundant, and Manabu's actions had been excessive—but partial legitimacy had been acknowledged.
'But there's a secret hidden behind this incident.'
That was one of the reasons the sect could never be handed to that bastard.
"Sect Master. May I ask one question?"
"...And that would be?"
"Is the position of Sect Master the seat of one who owns the sect?"
The Sect Master—the one who stands at the very top of a sect. He is its representative face and its grandmaster.
But if you asked whether that meant he owned the sect—
"It does not."
he could say, plainly, that it did not.
"Choosing a direct disciple is the Sect Master's rightful prerogative. But discarding an already-chosen direct disciple without cause and replacing them at whim is without precedent. It is an arbitrary act that betrays the Sword Sect's orthodoxy."
"Cause? How could there be no cause?"
Seong Yong-ho turned his head slightly toward Baek Seo-ha. Her body flinched and shrank a little.
"That child is weak and incompetent. But the disciple I intend to bring in climbed all the way here from the bottom, on his own strength. He is more than fit to lead the Sword Sect."
"You say that guy is strong?"
Lee Tae-hyun stared at Manabu dead-on.
Then, before long—
Pfft!
he let out a low snort and taunted him outright.
"Doesn't look like it to me."
The moment those words left his mouth—
"You goddamn son of a—!"
Manabu's reason snapped, and he drew his blade.
An instant-draw battoujutsu, executed in the blink of an eye.
"Die!"
The blade flared with light and bisected Lee Tae-hyun's torso.
"Tae-hyun!"
"Nooo!!"
Baek Seo-ha flung out her hand—but the sword had already been resheathed.
Manabu exhaled hard.
"That's why you should look carefully at your opponent before you go provoking—"
Mid-sentence, he suddenly stopped and replayed the sensation from a moment ago.
He had definitely cleaved the bastard's torso in two with his draw.
'But there was no feeling of cutting anything.'
The instant he realized it, his eyes snapped to the space in front of him.
Gone.
Not a single drop of blood remained in the spot where Lee Tae-hyun's corpse should have been.
Then something sharp pressed against his throat.
"Wh...?!"
"Let me ask once more, Sect Master."
Lee Tae-hyun had appeared behind him without a sound, spear leveled at his neck.
"A man who can't even cut down a mere F-rank hunter properly. Do you truly believe he can lead the Sword Sect?"
"F... rank, you say?"
That movement just now—that was genuinely the work of an F-rank? A fist packed with shock and disbelief trembled violently.
"...What exactly are you trying to say?"
"It's simple."
Lee Tae-hyun's gaze traveled between Seong Yong-ho and Baek Seo-ha.
"As the successor of the Azure Dragon Seven Forms, and as a stakeholder of the Sword Sect—I support Baek Seo-ha as the next Sect Master."
He declared it, calm and matter-of-fact.
"Huh? Wh... what?!"
Baek Seo-ha jolted and started hiccupping in alarm.
"Th-that's—why would you suddenly say—hk?!"
Hearing Lee Tae-hyun's declaration of support, Seong Yong-ho narrowed his eyes.
"How amusing. Your support amounts to a fistful of sand."
"I'm not the only one. Acting Sect Master Seong Gyu-ho supports Baek Seo-ha as well."
"Eh? Me?!"
Suddenly the center of attention, Seong Gyu-ho rolled his eyes, sweat pouring down his face.
'What the hell, why is that bastard dragging me into this out of nowhere?!'
Through no fault of his own, he now stood between the two factions.
But the choice came quickly. Sweating cold, he lifted his head with resolve.
"I too... support Seo-ha—no. I support Baek Seo-ha as the next Sect Master."
"You, Seong Gyu-ho...!"
"And that's not all."
Lee Tae-hyun pulled a thick bundle of papers from his subspace.
"These are statements collected from the Sword Sect's disciples regarding the next Sect Master."
From the period when he and Baek Seo-ha had been learning the Azure Dragon Seven Forms together—he had gathered opinions from the disciples whenever the chance arose.
"Unanimously, they want Baek Seo-ha to become Sect Master."
"......"
"They want to follow the senior who trained right beside them, sweating shoulder to shoulder with them. The children of the Sword Sect want to place their trust in her—not in some rock that just rolled in off the street."
"Kuhah...! Kuha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
Seong Yong-ho, slowly leafing through the statements signed by the disciples, burst into a twisted laugh.
"How utterly cunning! You prepared all of this in advance, as if you knew my every move!"
Flinch.
It stung a little, but Lee Tae-hyun forced his expression straight.
"In that case, I suppose I cannot force my will through after all."
When the Sect Master's will collides with the will of the many, there is a time-honored way to settle it.
"So then—let the seat of Sect Master be decided through a fair and honest contest."
"A fair contest. You mean a duel to the death?"
"Of course not. You're no longer even a registered hunter, Sect Master."
A competition that was fair to everyone, perfectly suited to judging qualification, and an easy stage on which the next Sect Master of the Sword Sect could cement their standing—was about to open soon.
"How about this: whoever wins the upcoming Guild War takes the Sect Master's seat?"
"Hmm..."
He was stroking his chin in deliberation, but he wouldn't refuse.
Before the regression, Manabu had entered the Guild War under the Sword Sect's banner. He would surely have planned to participate this time as well.
"Agreed. Then let it be so."
"A wise decision, as expected."
Lee Tae-hyun lowered the spear he'd had trained on Manabu, all traces of menace gone from his voice.
"In exchange, the name of the Sword Sect belongs to us. As for a guild for you to enter—see to it yourselves."
"That's acceptable."
And so the contest was established.
Lee Tae-hyun walked over to Baek Seo-ha, who was staring at him blankly, and extended his hand.
"Welcome to my guild."
"...Hk?!"
Baek Seo-ha saw it—
the smile curled on Lee Tae-hyun's lips: sly, sinister, and devilish all at once.