Spar Begins (2)
Baek So-cheon scrutinized every nuance of Yeom Hwa-sin's expression. The flicker in his eyes, the curve of his smile, the twitch of his eyelids and cheeks. All to discern if the man was speaking the truth.
"Can you kill him?"
"You know I can."
"I don't know that."
"Today, your son dies by my hand."
"You might be the one who dies."
"You serious? Then I've misjudged you."
Yeom Hwa-sin asked with an amused look.
"How'd you judge me?"
Baek So-cheon laid out his thoughts plainly.
"You're letting your son die by my hand, then using it as an excuse to start a war, right?"
"Disappointing. To think you'd see me as that kind of man."
"You're not?"
"No."
Though their faces were inches apart, Baek So-cheon couldn't read any emotion in Yeom Hwa-sin's features. It felt like he'd have to shatter that stone-like mask to see the real face beneath.
"Who in the world would kill their own son? To think you'd see me as such a pathetic wretch. I'm disappointed in you."
"Then why are you doing this?"
"This isn't my will. I'm just supporting my son's wishes. You get it as a man, right? When a guy's woman gets stolen, you back him up. Isn't that how it works?"
Yeom Hwa-sin widened his eyes as if it were the gospel truth, pleading for belief.
Baek So-cheon spat out flatly with a bored expression.
"Bullshit."
Only then did Yeom Hwa-sin's face change. A held-back laugh burst forth, his cheeks twitching before he erupted into cackles.
"Hahaha, you're right. All bullshit."
Baek So-cheon saw vicious malice in the playful spread of that laughter.
"Don't you have any paternal love?"
"Never learned it."
"Don't you pity your son?"
"Be honest. Does your gut say he'll live long? War or not, inheriting my seat."
Baek So-cheon had no answer. He didn't think the boy would last. Even now, so arrogant and unchecked—what would happen if he became Black Heaven Alliance Lord?
He'd end up betrayed and dead by someone. No one should presume another's fate, but Yeom Sa-won's path was clear as day. Anyone who knew him would agree.
"Better to die gloriously leading our alliance to victory than pathetically from some stupid mistake, no?"
"No."
"No?"
"Anyone else could say that. But not you."
Yeom Hwa-sin bellowed.
"No! It's the opposite. I can say it, but no one else can."
Baek So-cheon knew it then. This was his true heart. This was Yeom Hwa-sin.
"You disgust me."
"Honestly, I'd love it if you laughed it off and admitted it was all bullshit."
"You want me to be a good guy? Even though you'll die by my hand anyway."
"Dunno. Just saying."
"Getting swayed by emotions is for the lowly. That's why you lost. See you at the arena later. Off to see my boy."
Yeom Hwa-sin strode away, then paused and glanced back.
"You won't die on me, will you? Don't disappoint."
To the end, he grinned, baring his ruthless lack of fatherly affection.
Baek So-cheon stared silently at his retreating back.
'That doesn't mean I'll kill your son.'
"Father!"
Yeom Sa-won greeted Yeom Hwa-sin with a beaming face.
"Never dreamed you'd come here yourself."
Yesterday's message that Yeom Hwa-sin would attend the spar in person had shocked him.
He'd received the Black Dragon Divine Armor, and now his father was here to watch.
Lately, he'd been showered with the love he'd craved his whole life.
"Confident you'll win?"
"Yes, I'll kill that bastard for sure!"
"The Black Dragon Divine Armor?"
Yeom Sa-won spread his robes, revealing it underneath.
"I know you cherish it. Thank you, Father."
Truth be told, Yeom Sa-won felt awkward. Their relationship had always been poor. He'd never dared insolence, but respect or affection? Never once.
But now, bottled emotions surged free.
'From now on, I'll be a good son.'
Yeom Hwa-sin told his son.
"Get rid of Baek So-cheon for good!"
Yeom Sa-won replied, face flushed with excitement.
"Yes, Father."
As spar time neared, invitees took their assigned seats around the arena—some three hundred strong.
Heads of great sects and renowned elders sat nearest the Alliance Lord's spot, with prime arena views. Lesser fame meant farther seats. Position here reflected current prestige.
Long-unseen faces exchanged greetings and chatter.
Myeol Ji-ryun sat in her spot, old guardian Rap-sa beside her. Pa-jeong was nowhere in sight.
She scanned about repeatedly until Rap-sa asked.
"Looking for someone?"
"No."
She'd hoped for Cheon-geuk, but no sign.
'No way they'd invite the Assassin Alliance Lord.'
How much time passed? The buzz hushed abruptly, then warriors roared like thunder.
"Waaaaah!"
Alliance Lord Ak So-gun had arrived.
In the cheers, he gave opening remarks.
"My thanks to the heroes who've come so far."
Warriors rose as one, cupping fists in respect.
"We see the Alliance Lord."
Cheers erupted anew. From beyond the walls came even louder applause—the crowds outside mimicking the insiders' claps and shouts.
"Today's spar holds great meaning. Two paragons of the righteous clash for Murim's peace."
Ak So-gun skipped the marriage scandal, but rumors had spread far; all knew the stakes.
After brief words on past wars and Murim's future, he introduced one last figure.
"To grace this event, a precious guest from afar."
A man appeared where Ak So-gun gestured.
"The Black Heaven Alliance Lord himself."
Gasps rippled. No one had dreamed he'd come personally.
Cleaving the stunned silence, Yeom Hwa-sin entered.
He brought one attendant: Jeon-gwi, leader of Black Heaven's elite Black Vanguard. Trailing were Jan-baek and Go-gong, Yeom Sa-won's former guards.
Yeom Hwa-sin hid nothing of his aura. Overwhelming presence and pressure swept the arena.
As if in defiance, the crowds murmured boos.
Woooo...
But Yeom Hwa-sin looked utterly at ease.
He approached Ak So-gun.
They faced off a few paces apart.
"Long time."
"Staying well?"
Ak So-gun replied to Yeom Hwa-sin's question.
"As long as you're alive, I can't sleep soundly."
"Soon you'll sleep eternally, legs stretched straight."
Tension crackled between them.
Ak So-gun sensed it. This Yeom Hwa-sin was stronger than the one he'd faced before. Eyes and aura alike pressed him back.
"Let's sit."
"Indeed."
Yeom Hwa-sin's seat was opposite Ak So-gun's, arena between—precaution against mishaps.
They sat, and today's stars appeared.
Cheers and applause welcomed Baek So-cheon and Yeom Sa-won.
The pair mounted the arena.
Yeom Sa-won glanced back at his father. Beyond him, Baek So-cheon eyed Yeom Hwa-sin.
Yeom Hwa-sin raised a hand to his son.
Baek So-cheon, behind Yeom Sa-won, saw it. Seeming support for his son, but truly a gesture to him.
'It won't go your way.'
The referee called them to center.
"Friendly spar—avoid dangerous techniques."
Even he knew how perilous this would be.
He stepped down, leaving only Baek So-cheon and Yeom Sa-won atop.
Baek So-cheon planned no internal energy from start to finish. Nor to drag it out.
They drew swords. Baek So-cheon took not his signature Gui-yeong Geom, but another. No energy meant risk of blade damage, and anyway—he'd end it with Beon-cheon Gu-gwon.
Yeom Sa-won's form shot toward Baek So-cheon.
Screeeee!
His sword thrust at Baek So-cheon's throat—no probe, no mercy.
From the first move, targeting vitals—swift and sharp.
Baek So-cheon twisted aside, blade grazing perilously.
Yeom Sa-won twisted his miss to strike again.
Clang.
Baek So-cheon's sword blocked.
Blades crossed before their faces in standoff. Beyond his sword, Yeom Sa-won's venomous eyes blazed.
Baek So-cheon had watched his training. Exactly as expected.
But one difference.
'Why such thick killing intent?'
Far beyond predictions.
Yes, he meant to kill. But this exceeded—even for blood enemies, it felt overkill.
Onlookers gasped and cheered at the fierce start.
Yeom Sa-won pressed relentlessly, yielding no opening.
'Give him a breather, and I'm done.'
His foe had incomparable battle experience.
Pin him breathless and slay.
His barrages were terrifyingly potent. Despicable humanity, but solid skill.
His sword trails flashed through air.
Shick! Shreeek! Shick!
The blade nicked Baek So-cheon perilously.
Gasps erupted. Praise for dodging sans energy. Most knew him by rumor—stunned by his speed.
Yeom Sa-won unleashed a dozen moves in a blink, each lethal.
All held breath, watching.
No-energy evasion had limits. Blades finally clashed.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Yeom Sa-won's sword brimmed with max energy.
Baek So-cheon gripped his wrist, pained grimace.
Yeom Sa-won lunged like shadow.
No rash sword energy—he deemed energy-laced strikes enough advantage, lest exposing gaps.
Claaang!
More clashes; Baek So-cheon's sword snapped.
Yeom Sa-won smirked. Tension eased.
'That's it. No matter your skill, no energy means you can't beat me.'
Onlookers' anxious sighs fueled his hubris.
Then—Yeom Hwa-sin shouted.
"Son! Don't fall for it!"
His voice boomed.
He'd seen Baek So-cheon shatter his sword to bait carelessness.
Baek So-cheon felt puzzled.
'Warning his son? You want him to lose—why? What the hell?'
Their eyes met in that instant.
Baek So-cheon saw it—an inscrutable smile curling Yeom Hwa-sin's lips.
'...!'
Unease bloomed, but no time to parse intent.
Shreeeeeeeeee.
Yeom Sa-won whirled in with flashier strikes, sword storming.