Chapter 39
Chapter 39
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Black Wolf (2)
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Even with about half an hour left before the martial tournament was set to begin, the vast training ground was already overflowing with spectators, packed so tightly there was barely room to stand.
"Impressive."
Sima Geon arrived at the grand arena hosting the tournament and let out a sigh of admiration.
The arena itself was enormous, spanning over fifty zhang in diameter, but the dueling platform at its center—measuring ten zhang across—was equally astounding.
It wasn't some simple wooden stage.
They'd piled up earth two chi high and laid thin slabs of stone tightly across it— the kind commonly used for palace floors.
Carved from granite, these slabs resisted cracking, didn't glare under sunlight, and excelled at preventing slips, making them ideal for a dueling platform. Of course, they came at a steep cost.
But the real surprise was the second such stone-paved platform in the smaller rear arena.
"As expected of a prestigious clan. Cheol Woo would've mocked them for wasting money on it. Still, I have to admit, it's a fine dueling stage."
The platform gleamed subtly under the morning sun, stirring an unexpected sense of anticipation in Sima Geon—even though he'd only cared about the winner's prize and had no interest in the tournament itself.
Sima Geon headed toward the area where participants waited.
"A contestant?"
A man busy checking names asked.
"Yes."
"Your name?"
"Black Wolf."
"Black Wolf, huh."
The man scanning the roster spoke in a slightly excited tone.
"You're up first. Once the VIP speeches and the family head's opening remarks are done, the tournament kicks off right away. Get your head in the game. Your opponent..."
He turned, searching for someone, then shook his head.
"Hasn't shown up yet, it seems. Well, if he doesn't want to forfeit, he'll drag himself here eventually."
The man muttered dismissively and walked off.
Sima Geon made no reply, instead observing the other waiting participants.
A few were already radiating fierce auras, but most were quietly composing themselves. Apart from those emitting sharp energies, no one particularly stood out.
'The real talents are over there, they said.'
Sima Geon's gaze shifted to the left side of the dueling platform.
Unlike the chaotic crowds around the main stage, that area had fewer people, and the atmosphere was entirely different.
It was where the prestigious righteous sects and clans—gathered to celebrate the Hahu Clan head's seventieth birthday—had assembled. With descendants from the Five Great Clans (excluding the Zhuge Clan) participating, a tense undercurrent hung in the air.
'The top young experts are competing. This should be fun.'
Sima Geon recalled Hahu Gok, who had bragged endlessly about pulling strings to get him into the tournament.
It wasn't just empty boasting.
He'd loudly insisted on showing the arrogant Hahu Yeon the real world, and urged them to properly school cocky youngsters like him who lived off their family names.
Sima Geon's eyes drifted to Hahu Gok, now seated among the judges.
'I wasn't planning to go that far, but since I have to win anyway, it'll turn out as you wish, old man.'
Hahu Gok caught his gaze and waved enthusiastically, but Sima Geon subtly turned away.
The tedious speeches and opening ceremony dragged on, and finally, the two called contestants stepped onto the platform. Roaring cheers erupted, shaking the heavens.
They weren't famous names, but as the first match, it drew massive attention.
"I am Black Wolf,"
Sima Geon said, offering a light bow to his opponent.
"No Su of Cheon Manor."
No Su introduced himself arrogantly, waving his nearly one zhang-long spear to show off to the cheering crowd.
"Come at me. I'll even give you three moves."
No Su twirled the spear tip aimed at Sima Geon in a taunting whirl.
"Haha! What a bold soul."
"Eh, doesn't seem like he's got the skill to back it up."
"Still, it's Cheon Manor, famed for their spear arts. If he's mastered their techniques properly, he won't be easy."
The ten judges overseeing the tournament chatted among themselves.
"What do you think, Senior No?"
Hwal In Gae, an elder of the Beggars' Sect among the judges, asked Hahu Gok, who sat with a bored expression.
Hwal In Gae's reputation as a Beggars' Sect elder was no small thing, but he treaded carefully around Hahu Gok. It was because Hahu Gok's closest friend was Ju Yu Geol Gwi, one of the Three Freaks of the Martial World and the Beggars' Sect's Supreme Elder.
Everyone perked up their ears, waiting for Hahu Gok's take.
"Idiot."
His curt reply left them all stunned.
"Pardon?"
Hwal In Gae pressed, and Hahu Gok replied irritably.
"He's trash-talking without even knowing his opponent's level. Not worth discussing."
Gazes that had been on No Su now fixed on Sima Geon.
Sima Geon didn't refuse No Su's concession.
He bent his left foot slightly forward and slowly extended his sword.
It was the Immortal Points the Way—a flashy name for a basic stance even street thugs knew.
"Ha! What an amusing fellow!"
Snickering derisively, No Su swung his spear tip lightly to smack down Sima Geon's outstretched blade.
Despite offering three moves, he'd infused the strike with plenty of internal energy, plotting a sneaky counter.
The spear shot forward like a striking serpent, aiming to batter Sima Geon's sword.
Sima Geon's blade shifted subtly, grazing past the spear and targeting No Su's nape.
"Eek!"
No Su yelped in panic.
The sword was merely a chi away.
No time to recover his spear.
He stumbled back in terror, but somehow couldn't create distance.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Heavy vibrations shook the platform as No Su's body was shoved backward.
By the time he realized there was no footing left, he'd already lost balance and staggered.
No Su tumbled helplessly off the platform, ending the tournament's opening match in commemoration of the seventieth birthday celebration.
There were no cheers for the victor, no consolations for the loser.
The abrupt farce left everyone speechless, staring blankly at the stage.
The judges were equally dumbfounded.
They watched in shock as Sima Geon returned to the platform's center.
Only then did the crowd snap out of it, jeering at No Su.
Wearing a baffled expression, unable to comprehend what had happened, No Su slunk away without lifting his head amid the torrent of boos.
Unlike the jeering masses, the judges, participants, and nearby martial artists eyed Sima Geon—who had won effortlessly with a single basic stance—with newfound respect.
"No wasted motion."
"His sword tip didn't waver even while pursuing."
"The footwork flowed like water. Impressive."
"He's got real skill. But we have to account for how weak the opponent was. We saw the signs when he started boasting about concessions."
"Even so, it was remarkable. Not many could block that single strike."
Hahu Gok puffed up his chest at the judges' praise, then shot a cold glare at the stunned retainers of the Five Great Clans.
'If your eyes weren't shit, you'd have noticed too. You arrogant bastards! Planning to run wild, are you? It won't go the way you schemed.'
Hahu Gok gazed warmly at Sima Geon, pleased that things were unfolding as planned—but the young man, now back at his seat, didn't even spare him a glance.
The lackluster first match ended, and the subsequent bouts wrapped up surprisingly quickly too.
The organizers had cleverly paired them to avoid early clashes between powerhouses, but it was still enough to rile up the disappointed crowd.
Vigorous shouts, flashy maneuvers, and intense exchanges produced several nail-biters.
Starting early in the morning without breaks, the tournament finally wrapped up the first preliminary round at shen shi (3-5 PM). It was fast given the number of entrants, made possible only by simultaneous matches on both platforms.
The Hahu Clan announced the second preliminaries would follow immediately.
Fortune smiled on Sima Geon with another bye; no more matches for him.
Cheol Woo, arriving late only to find he'd missed it, stormed off in a huff, needlessly irritating those around him.
The next day of the tournament.
Ignoring Cheol Woo's grumbling, Sima Geon headed to the platform and only stepped up around noon. His third preliminary opponent had forfeited due to injuries from the day before.
"Get ready. You're up."
The event staffer called him with a mix of surprise and mockery.
A single bye was rare enough; two in a row to advance through the round trimming it to eight? A predictable reaction.
Sima Geon ascended calmly, waiting patiently for his foe.
His opponent didn't emerge from the participants' area but from the opposite side—where the Five Great Clans and other sects' VIPs were seated. Sima Geon took note with interest.
'One of the Five Great Clans' warriors?'
Contrary to his guess, it wasn't from one of the Five Great Clans. But the newcomer hailed from a house of comparable renown.
"Yeongho Gyeol."
Representing Yeongho Clan, Yeongho Gyeol greeted him brashly.
Sima Geon was well aware of Yeongho Clan's fame, rivaling the Five Great Clans. Unbeknownst to him, fate had already intertwined them through enmity.
"Black Wolf."
Yeongho Gyeol slowly assumed his stance at Sima Geon's curt reply.
"Yeongho Gyeol, was it? Quite cautious."
"They say he's one of Yeongho Clan's most promising youths."
"Took down opponents in one strike across consecutive matches. The foes were weak, so it's hard to judge, but still striking."
"You can feel his skill just from the stance. Perfectly balanced."
Favorable murmurs about Yeongho Gyeol poured from the judges' seats.
They'd noted Sima Geon when he'd dismantled his foe with Immortal Points the Way, but time had passed, and now the field brimmed with talent. Against Yeongho Clan's prestige, Black Wolf's name had already faded.
"What do you make of this matchup?"
Hwal In Gae asked Hahu Gok.
The chattering judges fell silent, ears perked.
Hahu Gok had predicted outcomes twelve times so far—never wrong.
"He looks sharp. Talented, too."
"Yes. Top three among Yeongho Clan's younger generation."
"It'll be a good lesson."
"Pardon?"
Hahu Gok said no more.
Hwal In Gae leaned in to ask again, but the match began, cutting him off.
Yeongho Gyeol, yielding first strike, grew irritated as Sima Geon showed no sign of moving—even when he flicked his sword tip in provocation.
'Lucky fluke to get this far. Oh, you won once, big deal. Cocky prick!'
Yeongho Gyeol recalled Sima Geon's debut match.
The opponent was pathetic, but decent enough skill, especially the pursuit.
That was it. He could've ended it in one blow without dragging it out.
'You want first move? Fine.'
p>Resolved to demonstrate the gap, Yeongho Gyeol thrust his sword forward and launched himself.
His swallow-over-water swiftness drew gasps of admiration.
But before his attack fully formed, he retreated—twice as fast as he'd charged.
The crowd burst into raucous laughter at Yeongho Gyeol resetting his stance.
Sima Geon hadn't budged during the aborted assault.
Spectators assumed Yeongho Gyeol had merely feinted against a far weaker Black Wolf and pulled back.
Even the judges puzzled over it, unaware of the truth—except Hahu Gok, who knew Sima Geon's prowess and smirked.
'Lucky bastard.'
Hahu Gok deemed Yeongho Gyeol's snap retreat spot-on.
Had he pressed the attack, Sima Geon's counter would have decided it then and there.