Anyway, the Victory is Decided (1)
A ridiculously easy victory unfolded. Geum Seok-un lay sprawled on the ground like a frog, his body trembling faintly, while a profound silence blanketed the surroundings.
It was astonishing. To subdue the leader of a faction ranked thirtieth in a single move.
The onlookers from Dongbeonhoe, the members of the Nine Great Factions, and even the Dongbeonhoeju had witnessed it all clearly. The Dongbeonhoeju's face twisted in dismay at the unexpected outcome, while the Nine Great Factions' experts shot to their feet, letting out exclamations of admiration.
"Ho..."
"Impressive. A result none of us anticipated."
"The opponent must've seemed too weak for someone charging in with such bravado."
"Even so, that last move was remarkably concise and refined."
"But before that—how did a mere pipe snap a sword in two?"
"Probably made of steel. I distinctly heard metal clashing when the sword broke."
"Hm. A steel pipe..."
"Plenty of folks across the Central Plains use such odd weapons. Especially the unorthodox rabble—they develop all sorts of bizarre tools to catch foes off guard and end fights quick, no shame in it."
"Even here at Yi Gajang?"
"A family that's endured hard times for ages. Thrashing about to survive is only natural, isn't it?"
"Anyway, I'd love to see more. That boy's no ordinary kid."
Among those showing keen interest, a few said nothing, their eyes gleaming. They exchanged knowing glances, their lips forming the same word.
No Gae, who had observed every one of Yi Jinpyeong's movements from right beside him, murmured the same word.
Yi Jinpyeong rested his hand on his waist and scanned the now-quiet crowd.
"Next challenger. No one?"
The hundreds gathered there were still reeling from the shock of what had just happened.
With a satisfied nod, he declared,
"The man who conquered Dongjeong Lake with a single fight—that's me."
But no sooner had the words left his mouth than—
"What nonsense!"
A man leaped high into the air with a whoosh and landed before Yi Jinpyeong. He looked to be in his thirties, hair tied tightly back, square jaw, solid muscles, wielding a massive axe with a menacing bluish edge.
Those who recognized him immediately cried out.
"Wolrangmun's Wi Dam!"
Ranked twenty-third among Dongjeong Lake's powers—the ace representing Wolrangmun.
Wolrangmun was a small sect, barely scraping thirty members including the sect leader and disciples. Yet it held twenty-third place thanks to Wi Dam, whose skills had guaranteed him the future sect leader position years ago.
Just a few years back, he'd stormed Baek Do Hoe alone—the group that crippled his junior brother—and smashed them to pieces. The tale still lingered on people's lips.
Baring his teeth like a wolf's fangs, he grinned.
"Kid. Dongjeong Lake's vast, masters abound. You don't get to strut around like the world's greatest just 'cause you swung a stick a few times and took down that Geum punk."
"A few times? I swung it once."
"Anyway. Think you can pull that trick on me?"
"Dunno. You don't look all that different to me."
"Can't compare me to some clown who relied on his gang's size and numbers. Come on, grab a real weapon. Warrior against warrior."
"Didn't you just see? This is my weapon."
"You think that puny pipe—even if it's steel—can block my Moon Wolf Axe?"
Wi Dam swung the massive axe in wide arcs. Thick and broad enough to cover Yi Jinpyeong's upper body entirely, it whistled threateningly through the air with each swing.
The crowd let out awed "oohs."
Yi Jinpyeong smirked. He spun the pipe effortlessly between his fingers—light and free.
"Steel, huh... Yeah. It'll be steel when it cracks your skull."
"No regrets. You brought this on yourself."
Wi Dam turned to the central table and offered a respectful cupped-fist salute.
"I am Wi Dam of Wolrangmun. My skills shame me before you esteemed Nine Great Factions seniors, but to deal with this loach disrupting this vital event, I step forward. I beg your leniency."
The Nine Great Factions elders nodded approvingly.
"Wolrangmun... Even in this backwater, there are those who know manners and propriety."
"Sharp eyes. Precise movements."
"Curious how he wields that monster axe. Any orthodox clan in the Central Plains use something so brutal formally?"
"Dongjeong Lake's factions lean unorthodox, so probably."
"Shh!"
Turning back, Wi Dam offered No Gae a polite—yet confident—cupped-fist salute.
"Elder No. Warrior against warrior. Even if the match goes awry, you'll stay out of it, right?"
Since No Gae had set the stage by urging Yi Jinpyeong to introduce himself, Wi Dam suspected the beggar might've intervened in the prior duel. He wanted to preempt any interference.
But No Gae pretended not to hear, wearing an enigmatic expression as he simply watched Yi Jinpyeong.
Yawning widely, Yi Jinpyeong said,
"Guy wants a fight, why drag it out? Looks like one shot anyway—long intros just kill the vibe!"
"......"
Wi Dam said no more.
This stage was No Gae's and Yi Jinpyeong's making—but Wi Dam was certain he and Wolrangmun would be the stars.
A chance to display his might before the Nine Great Factions and Dongjeong Lake's powers, propelling his sect to national fame.
He lightly swung the massive axe overhead, then—clink—hid the blade behind him. Weight on his rear foot, body crouched low. Like a wolf poised before prey.
The crowd gulped. One swing, and anything would split—blood and flesh spraying everywhere.
Nearby spectators backed away several paces. Yi Gajang's brothers, No Gae, and the Beggar Clan elder held firm.
Wi Dam gathered his qi silently. His breathing halted.
The moment Yi Jinpyeong's eyes flickered amid his inscrutable smile, Wi Dam exploded with energy. His foot stomped the ground, power surging through knee, hip, and twisting waist straight into the axe.
Closing the gap in an instant, he slammed it down!
Kwajik!
The axe split the table in two.
Wi Dam's head split too.
Not literally—but that's how it felt. Dizziness hit with world-shattering pain, darkness swallowing his vision.
Through closing eyes, he glimpsed Yi Jinpyeong casually withdrawing his pipe, scanning the crowd, and shouting,
"Next!"
Wolrangmun's elite, touted as few but mighty—Wi Dam felled in one blow. And the pattern repeated several more times.
Even watching predecessors drop in single strikes, more experts—Wi Dam's equals or better—crawled out.
Reasons abounded. Yi Gajang still seemed insignificant. Yi Jinpyeong looked like an easy mark, boyish and unpolished. Some suspected tricks and came to dispel doubts personally.
Dongjeong Lake factions were tenacious, refusing easy surrender.
Out they came—thwack—down. Another laughed boldly—thwack—carried off.
But as Nak Pung-hyeon had noted, no one at or above his level had appeared.
Pride, reputation, or reluctance to reveal strength. In cutthroat Dongjeong Lake, every move carried weight—even against Yi Jinpyeong's taunts.
Yi Jinpyeong swept his gaze over the crowd after smashing another skull.
Amid hundreds, a few beasts met his eyes unflinchingly. Not quite apex predators—fiercer dogs and cats, perhaps.
Some heavy asses. Let's see how long they hold out.
He savored the stares: awe, shock, rage, wariness. Familiar gazes.
Elevating Yi Gajang while ruining Dongbeonhoe's festival—pure delight.
"Taking on every mutt and mongrel kills the tension. Send a real one!"
Then—
Hahaha! Laughter boomed across the grounds, laced with profound inner energy. Everyone sensed a master leagues above the rest.
One of the Nine Great Factions dignitaries on the platform.
"Hahaha. Such a long self-introduction—never seen the like."
All eyes converged.
A dignified middle-aged warrior stroking his long beard. Mild expression, sharp eyes, hair a mystical mix of white and black.
"Hwasan Sect... Pung Yeon-jinin!"
The crowd stirred wildly. First time a Nine Great Factions member spoke up amid their murmurs.
And who was Pung Yeon-jinin? From Hwasan—one of the top three alongside Shaolin and Wudang—a pillar of the Hwasan Seven Swords.
But Yi Jinpyeong regarded him calmly, chin raised as if expecting it.
"A challenge?"
Pung Yeon-jinin chuckled heartily.
"Young hero, we've admired your spirit. Truly befitting Yi Gyeol, the greatest under heaven. Not just I, but our elders, monks, and fellow transcendents here are impressed. Yet this event gathers Central Plains juniors once a year with great effort. It has purpose and order—we can't spend all day watching you fight."
Yi Jinpyeong replied,
"Warriors gather to brawl—what else? Come down, let's have a proper go. That's what folks want."
Mouths gaped.
"Insolent whelp! Who do you think you're yapping at?"
A Hwasan figure beside Pung Yeon-jinin jumped up, pointing accusingly.
Pung Yeon-jinin waved him down casually and continued evenly,
"So I have a proposal."
He gestured to one side of the hall, not far from the central platform. There, the Nine Great Factions' youthful beauties and elite juniors eyed the scene sharply.
"Tomorrow kicks off friendly sparring among our Nine Great Factions' later generations. Nothing grand—just showing off our arts regionally, with some inter-sect pride on the line."
"......"
"But seeing you and Dongjeong Lake's hot-blooded youths flaunt skills today, it feels off inviting you only to watch us spar among ourselves. So why not include Dongjeong Lake's young heroes alongside our later generations? Dongbeonhoeju would need hasty prep, some order might shuffle, but better than this first-day free-for-all."
"Ooooooh!"
A massive roar erupted from the warriors present.
Dongjeong Lake teemed with sects and associations, but they'd only clashed in turf wars—never formal spars. This gathering alone was rare; sharing a stage with Nine Great Factions juniors? Priceless.
For small elites, a spotlight. For powers-that-be, scouting rivals. Invaluable experience against Nine Great Factions foes.
In the boiling excitement, Pung Yeon-jinin glanced at Dongbeonhoeju.
"What say you, Hoeju? Too much to ask?"
Dongbeonhoeju forced a pallid smile. No way he'd refuse the Nine Great Factions, trifling or not.
"Of course not."
"And you, young hero? Continue your 'introduction' there tomorrow."
Yi Jinpyeong gazed steadily—at Pung Yeon-jinin squinting from the high platform, at the Nine Great Factions lineup overlooking Dongjeong Lake's warriors.
The intent was clear: Perform another trick. Dare refuse this stage we've set?
"No reason not to."
Yi Jinpyeong grinned.
"The win's decided anyway, right?"