Chapter 400
Bu Eun-seol took a deep breath and steadied his mind.
'I must not get agitated.'
The clash between the Ten Demonic Heir and the Great Righteous Experts had been an unavoidable battle.
Moreover, hadn't Yeong Mun-ho deliberately allowed himself to be struck by Cheon Hwa-in's single sword strike to escape the shackles of being the Ten Demonic Heir?
In the end, losing his Internal Power had been Yeong Mun-ho's own choice—there was no reason to resent Cheon Hwa-in for it.
'Am I also powerless in this?'
No matter how coldly he tried to think about it.
The moment he recalled Yeong Mun-ho's face, screaming as he died, he couldn't help but feel a surge of resentment toward Cheon Hwa-in.
—"Hahaha. If it hadn't been for me back then—"
Regardless of Bu Eun-seol's inner thoughts, Cheon Hwa-in's loud voice only grew louder.
And around the table where he sat, figures who appeared to be from the Nine Great Sects and One Gang had gathered.
Cheon Hwa-in was boasting loudly about his connections, clearly seeking the attention and admiration of those around him.
—"Truthfully, since we've already handpicked capable individuals beforehand... It's like blind man's bluff, but someone like you could easily smash through such underhanded schemes, no?"
Bu Eun-seol recalled the Divine Calculator's words and nodded slightly.
'Then he must be one of the pre-selected candidates.'
Originally, Cheon Hwa-in had been a leading contender for the next sect leader.
A rising talent of such caliber had no reason to participate in the Distinguished Talent Assembly just to vie for a mere Third-grade Commander position in the Martial Alliance.
'Which means... the rumors about him falling out of the succession plan must be true.'
Recently, unfavorable rumors about Cheon Hwa-in had been spreading through the martial world.
It was said that once he rose to a high position, his true nature had been revealed.
Arrogant and disrespectful toward his superiors, harsh and tyrannical toward his subordinates.
Acting as if his appointment as the next sect leader was already decided, he had begun ordering around fellow first-generation disciples.
Disgusted by this behavior, the Mount Hua Sect's supporting factions had reportedly turned their backs on him.
'If he has no chance of becoming the Mount Hua Sect's leader, then he must be aiming to rise through the ranks of the Martial Alliance instead.'
"Seems like you're envious."
Just then, a young man with long, sharp eyes and a clear gaze approached Bu Eun-seol, who had been staring intently at Cheon Hwa-in.
"Well, considering he's a former Great Righteous Expert and a candidate for the Mount Hua Sect's leadership... Calling him just a rising talent would be an understatement. He's practically a young grandmaster."
The man seemed to think Bu Eun-seol's intense gaze was born of envy.
When Bu Eun-seol raised his head, their eyes met, and the man flashed a bright smile.
"I'm Tae Mu-ryong."
Fat Head Red Star, Tae Mu-ryong.
He was a disciple of the Four-Clear Gate, an orthodox sect, and quite a well-known figure.
Though the sect followed the righteous lineage, their primary weapon was an iron rake—a pronged tool typically used for digging graves or tilling soil.
Moreover, their methods of wielding the iron rake were bizarre enough to be called Strange Unorthodox Techniques, filled with bizarre moves.
Yet, unlike their martial techniques, the Four-Clear Gate was a staunchly orthodox sect, unwavering in their reverence for the Path of Righteousness.
Tae Mu-ryong himself had also performed many good deeds, earning him an invitation to this Distinguished Talent Assembly.
"I'm Seon-u Jin."
"Seon-u Jin, Seon-u Jin..."
Tae Mu-ryong tilted his head in thought for a long moment before blinking.
"The Heavenly Cliff Flying Dagger who made a name for himself Beyond the Frontier! The successor of the Seon Merchant Group, right?"
Though he let out an impressed exclamation, a flicker of disappointment passed through Tae Mu-ryong's eyes.
The grandiose epithet "Heavenly Cliff Flying Dagger" had only been earned by dealing with numerous bands of bandits.
From a martial artist's perspective, he wasn't even a figure from an orthodox sect—just the descendant of a merchant group that primarily operated Beyond the Frontier... Not exactly an impressive background.
"That's correct."
When Bu Eun-seol smiled and clasped his hands, Tae Mu-ryong's eyes gleamed.
Despite clearly having noticed Tae Mu-ryong's disappointed expression, Bu Eun-seol wore a faint smile, looking completely unbothered.
'He's no ordinary man.'
Tae Mu-ryong was not only sharp-witted but also possessed exceptional observational skills.
He instantly recognized that the man before him was anything but ordinary and felt a strong sense of admiration.
"Now, now, no need to sit around like this. Let's get up."
Tae Mu-ryong stood and tugged at Bu Eun-seol's sleeve.
"Though I'm just a nameless junior myself, I've been fortunate enough to make a few friends. I'd like to introduce you to them, Young Hero Seon-u."
Leading Bu Eun-seol along, Tae Mu-ryong began greeting several martial artists with whom he was acquainted.
'Killing two birds with one stone.'
As he was pulled along by Tae Mu-ryong, a subtle glint flickered in Bu Eun-seol's eyes.
By introducing Bu Eun-seol to others, Tae Mu-ryong had drawn people's attention while also earning Bu Eun-seol's favor.
'If he's this capable, his martial arts must also be quite advanced.'
To cultivate Advanced Martial Arts, one needed not only a strong bone and muscle structure but also exceptional talent and intellect.
Judging by the light in Tae Mu-ryong's eyes, his wisdom and insight were undoubtedly remarkable. He must have cultivated martial arts far surpassing what was publicly known.
'Naturally, he must be desperately aiming for the Commander position as well.'
Bu Eun-seol could discern Tae Mu-ryong's true intentions just from his demeanor.
The founder of the Four-Clear Gate had originally been a cemetery caretaker.
Through the process of tending graves and digging earth, the founder, Son Sam-muk, attained profound enlightenment and established the Four-Clear Gate. His signature weapon was the rake-fork he always carried.
However, those who wielded odd weapons like the rake-fork were rarely acknowledged in the martial world.
Because of their founder's background, disciples of the Four-Clear Gate carried an inferiority complex—the stigma of being known as the "graveyard caretaker sect."
And Tae Mu-ryong was no exception.
He saw this opportunity to rise as a Commander in the Martial Alliance and make his name known with pride.
"Hahaha. I had no idea Brother Tae was such an entertaining fellow."
Before long, laughter bloomed around the table where Tae Mu-ryong sat.
Not only was he strikingly handsome, but he also had a silver tongue.
The only reason he hadn't mingled much before was because of his affiliation with the Four-Clear Gate.
But now, with Bu Eun-seol in tow, his eloquence flowed freely, and in an instant, he became the center of attention in the banquet hall.
"So the First Disciple of the Four-Clear Gate has graced us with his presence. A pleasure."
Just then, Cheon Hwa-in, who had been seated across the room, approached Tae Mu-ryong and addressed him.
Having noticed the shift of attention away from himself, he grew curious.
And upon learning that this man was the First Disciple of the Four-Clear Gate, he approached with a faint, knowing smile.
"I am Cheon Hwa-in."
"Tae Mu-ryong, at your service."
"This Distinguished Talent Assembly is truly something."
Cheon Hwa-in spoke in a languid voice.
"To think we'd gather so many obscure figures of the martial world in one place, all at the same time."
Tae Mu-ryong's face stiffened instantly.
The phrase "obscure figures" carried the implication that he was an unknown, insignificant junior.
Moreover, the sheer arrogance in Cheon Hwa-in's condescending gaze wounded Tae Mu-ryong's pride.
"Indeed. I, too, have long admired the renowned 'One Sword of Mount Hua,' Great Master Cheon, whose fame spans the four seas. It is an honor to meet you."
Yet Tae Mu-ryong clasped his hands respectfully, even addressing his peer with the highest honorifics.
After all, Cheon Hwa-in was not just a senior disciple of the Mount Hua Sect—he stood closer to the realm of a future Grandmaster than to that of an ordinary expert.
"Well then, Brother Tae. Since fate has brought us together, won't you accept a drink from me?"
Cheon Hwa-in smiled like an elder and extended his right hand.
At once, a wine cup from the opposite table floated up and drifted slowly toward Tae Mu-ryong.
Using Void Object Retrieval to send a cup flying was no great feat.
But controlling its speed so precisely required immense Internal Energy.
With this single move, Cheon Hwa-in was flaunting his power to the crowd.
'Damn.'
Tae Mu-ryong's expression darkened.
'He means to humiliate me.'
Cold sweat trickled down his forehead as he watched the leisurely approaching cup.
The Four-Clear Gate's weapon techniques were unparalleled in the martial world, but their Internal Energy Method fell short.
Tae Mu-ryong had always relied on unpredictable techniques to secure victory—never once had he won through sheer Internal Energy superiority.
If he failed to receive this cup in front of all these people...
Not only would the disgrace be unbearable, but he'd be branded as having lost to Cheon Hwa-in.
He might as well leave the Martial Alliance in tears right then, without even bothering to compete in the tournament.
'I have to try.'
With a resolute expression, Tae Mu-ryong channeled his Internal Power and reached out toward the descending cup.
But no matter how much energy he poured forth, the cup's slow advance did not falter.
'No, this can't—'
Just as the unstoppable cup was about to spill onto his chest—
Zzziiing.
A low vibration hummed through the air as an eerie surge of Internal Energy blossomed around Tae Mu-ryong's body.
The cup's speed gradually slowed.
Tap.
It landed perfectly in his outstretched palm.
To onlookers, it appeared as though he had effortlessly received the cup with formidable Internal Energy.
Cheon Hwa-in's eyes flickered slightly at the sight.
He had sent the cup forth with what seemed like casual ease, but in truth, he had imbued it with over a century's worth of Internal Energy.
Yet this man had caught it without the slightest strain?
'How is this possible?'
Meanwhile, Tae Mu-ryong stood dumbfounded, the cup in his hand.
The moment he had been unable to repel the cup—just as his body was about to be forced back—someone had infused him with Internal Energy through Body-Striking Transmission Art.
'Who was it?'
He glanced around discreetly, but no one gave any indication.
'Could it be...?'
His gaze shifted to the composed figure sitting beside him—Seonhwa Merchant House's supposed heir, Seon-u Jin.
Had he used Body-Striking Transmission Art to assist him?
'No way.'
No matter how closely he looked, there was no trace of expended Internal Energy on Seon-u Jin.
Besides, hadn't he been sitting perfectly still, without so much as twitching a finger?
If someone had unleashed such a Body-Striking Transmission Art, a formidable shockwave should have rippled around their body.
In the end, Tae Mu-ryong couldn't figure out who had helped him.
'I don't know who it is... but they're aiding me.'
Though Tae Mu-ryong wasn't exceptionally strong in martial arts, he was sharp-witted and quick to perceive things.
Realizing that someone was secretly assisting him, he acted with newfound confidence.
"I've enjoyed the drink."
Having downed the wine in one gulp, Tae Mu-ryong flicked the cup back toward Cheon Hwa-in.
However, his internal energy was far from impressive—compared to the cup Cheon Hwa-in had sent flying, his push was feeble, barely carrying any force.
Zzziiing.
Yet, with a low vibration, the cup began crawling forward like a slug.
Squirm, squirm.
Its speed was a mere tenth of what Cheon Hwa-in had demonstrated earlier.
Cheon Hwa-in was greatly startled, but as befitting a Master of Great Righteousness whose name resonated across the martial world, he immediately deployed the Plum Blossom Scattering Hands, dispersing the force behind the incoming cup.
No matter how formidable the internal energy infused into it, the Plum Blossom Scattering Hands—a technique designed to diffuse energy—should have easily deflected it.
But how could he have known?
That the one who had sent the cup his way was a martial grandmaster of the next generation, one who stood among the Four Gods Seven Kings?
Flick.
Suddenly, the cup trembled faintly, lightly disrupting the force of the Plum Blossom Scattering Hands.
Thud.
But that wasn't the end.
To his astonishment, the cup alternated between a pulling and repelling force, over and over.
Clatter.
Unable to withstand the shifting forces, Cheon Hwa-in was yanked forward, then shoved back—until he landed hard on his rear, collapsing in an undignified heap.
A deathly silence filled the hall.
Cheon Hwa-in was regarded as the most outstanding martial artist among those gathered at this Distinguished Talent Assembly.
And yet, he had failed to catch a single wine cup—ending up flat on his backside?
Pat, pat.
Quickly rising and dusting himself off, Cheon Hwa-in's expression hardened like stone.
No matter how much power was infused into the cup, if he couldn't block it, he could have simply dodged.
But who would have expected Tae Mu-ryong to channel multiple streams of internal energy, alternating between crushing suction and violent repulsion?
"Impressive. So you've been hiding your true strength all along."
Humiliated, Cheon Hwa-in glared with blazing eyes as he spoke solemnly.
"The Four Azure Sect's Rake-Fork Severing Form—said to unleash ten streams of bitter cold in an instant—has long intrigued me."
In that moment, the air in the banquet hall seemed to vanish, replaced by a suffocating pressure.
Gulp.
Tae Mu-ryong swallowed dryly.
The Martial Arts Tournament was set to begin tomorrow.
But Cheon Hwa-in, ever impatient, was determined to settle the score here and now.
'If I were going to avoid this fight, I wouldn't have attended the Distinguished Talent Assembly in the first place.'
Only his internal energy level was lacking.
His Four-Clear Rake-Fork Style had never once tasted defeat.
Just as Tae Mu-ryong steeled himself and opened his mouth—
Tap, tap.
Light footsteps echoed as a woman in white robes entered the banquet hall, accompanied by two attendants.
Her gaze was as clear and transparent as a meteor, yet her entire being radiated an untouchable aura.
This was Yuk Cheong-a, the only daughter of the Palm King Yuk Jang-cheon, Hall Master of the Hall of Martial Ascension—and the youngest hall leader ever appointed by the Martial Alliance, now presiding over the Yeonseong Hall.
Surveying the room, Yuk Cheong-a clasped her hands together.
"Greetings. I am Yuk Cheong-a, in charge of the Yeonseong Hall."
Stepping onto the raised platform at the front of the hall, she spoke in a bright, resonant voice.
"As you may already know, the Alliance intends to select the commander of our newly established Third-Grade Unit from among the distinguished talents gathered here."
Her eyes swept over the seated figures once more before she continued.
"Each of you invited to this assembly possesses talent and fame beyond comparison. Thus, the Alliance has decided—reluctantly—to hold a simple Martial Arts Tournament to distinguish the finest among you."
Since this had been announced beforehand, the attendees all nodded in understanding.
However, some were deeply dissatisfied—particularly the Rising Talents of the Younger Generation from minor sects.
The position of a Unit Commander in the Martial Alliance wasn't just about martial prowess. It required exemplary character, wisdom, strategic acumen, and leadership in warfare.
And yet, they were going to decide it through a Martial Arts Tournament?
Moreover, the presence of Cheon Hwa-in—a Master of Great Righteousness who hardly fit the label of a "rising talent"—made it seem like the outcome was predetermined.
"Of course, participation in the tournament is entirely voluntary."
Noticing the discontent in the room, Yuk Cheong-a wore an awkward smile.
"Those who wish to challenge for the position of Unit Commander, please come to the Martial Arts Stage at the Alliance's West Gate by the Hour of the Snake (9-11 AM) tomorrow."
With those final words, she clasped her hands once more and exited.
An eerie silence lingered in the hall.
All eyes turned toward Cheon Hwa-in and Tae Mu-ryong, seated in the middle of the banquet hall.
As Yuk Cheong-a left, the onlookers wondered if they would resume their fight.
Cheon Hwa-in let out a quiet sigh.
Even if the martial tournament was about to begin—what if he fought Tae Mu-ryong now?
If that rumor spread, it would leave a poor impression on the Martial Alliance's high command.
"I look forward to tomorrow's duel."
Muttering coldly, Cheon Hwa-in rose from his seat and immediately strode out of the hall.
Those seated around him followed, trailing behind like subordinates. Their obsequious manner suggested they were already certain Cheon Hwa-in would be chosen as the commander.
"Figures."
Once Cheon Hwa-in's faction had left, a man carrying a three-pronged spear vented his anger.
"I wondered why a Great Righteous Master would attend an event like this..."
"Exactly. If they were going to do this, why not just quietly appoint him? Why bother holding a martial tournament just to pull this kind of stunt?"
As another voice rang out, a man with a grotesque blade at his waist stood and spoke.
"Didn't the Martial Alliance suffer a major setback after recklessly installing that Thousand Swords fellow as a commander?"
He was Jeong Jong-do of the Iron Blade Sect—a disciple whose martial prowess was exceptional, but whose reputation suffered due to his humble origins, much like Tae Mu-ryong.
"After that, I heard the Alliance Leader issued a strict decree forbidding the appointment of commanders based solely on connections and influence."
Jeong Jong-do sighed as he gazed at the open door.
"So even if they want to appoint someone... they have to make it look fair and open. Hence this martial tournament."
Despite his rough appearance, Jeong Jong-do was well-versed in the affairs of the martial world and possessed sharp analytical skills.
Tae Mu-ryong, who had been listening silently, finally added his own thoughts.
"Makes sense. Cheon Hwa-in was pushed aside in the Hua Mountain Sect's succession struggle. With his high-ranking connections... it wouldn't be surprising if the participants in this Distinguished Talent Assembly were carefully selected to be no real threat to him."
The mood in the banquet hall darkened at his words.
Each of them had come with lofty ambitions, only to realize they were mere stepping stones for Cheon Hwa-in's ascension.
"So, are you all saying we should just give up?"
At the question from the silent man with the three-pointed double-edged blade, Jeong Jong-do shook his head with a faint smile.
"Not a chance. Whatever the outcome, we'll regret it if we don't at least try."
Tae Mu-ryong nodded in agreement.
"Hahaha. Well said. Even if it's just to vent my frustration, I must challenge him."
His voice was firm as he grinned.
"Even in defeat, there's something to be gained."
Several warriors in the hall clapped in approval.
"Right! Either way, we have to try, don't we?"
The heavy atmosphere shifted instantly at their words.
'A leader among men.'
Bu Eun-seol nodded slightly as he observed Tae Mu-ryong and Jeong Jong-do.
Ever since his time on Hell Island, Bu Eun-seol had made a habit of analyzing the traits and martial prowess of those around him.
And that knowledge would prove invaluable for the plans he had yet to execute.
"Then let's all drink to tomorrow's victory!"
At someone's cheerful shout, the gathered warriors raised their cups.
Bu Eun-seol, too, quietly lifted his glass amid the boisterous crowd.
The next day.
Around the hour of Si (9-11 AM), near the Martial Alliance's West Gate.
A small dueling platform had been set up, and before it stood about forty martial artists—those who had gathered to participate in the tournament.
Originally, there had been around fifty, but a dozen or so had withdrawn, abandoning the competition.
On a raised platform opposite the stage sat two figures behind a small table—a sturdy, thick-set middle-aged man and an elderly man with a goat-like beard.
They were none other than the Palm King Yuk Jang-cheon, the Martial Alliance's Hall of Ascending Martial's overseer, and Gu In-jeong, an elder of the Hall of Longevity—the Elders' Hall equivalent of the Demon Hall.
—So he's the mastermind.
The martial artists near the stage frowned upon spotting Gu In-jeong.
After all, he was an elder of the Hua Mountain Sect—and Cheon Hwa-in's master.
"Let the tournament begin."
Yuk Cheong-a, standing at the center of the stage, spoke clearly.
"As you know, this duel is merely a test to select the commander of the newly formed battalion. Therefore, lethal techniques are forbidden, and the match must end immediately once the outcome is decided."
Her voice rang out crisply as she continued.
"The trial requires defeating three challengers to pass. Those who succeed will then compete in a bracket to determine the final victor."
In an instant, the eyes of the warriors on the stage burned with intensity.
Though it was a small tournament, this was a selection for the Martial Alliance's third-grade commander—a rare opportunity worth risking their lives for.
"Then, the first challenger, please step forward."
At Yuk Cheong-a's call, a man clad in Hua Mountain Sect robes leaped onto the stage.
It was Cheon Hwa-in.
His gaze swept over the warriors below before curling into an arrogant smirk.
"I'll take the first challenge."