Jingang's Sword, Moments Before
A little while earlier. After seeing Yi Jinpyeong off, Yi Jingang ascended the arena stage alone. The crowd's gazes poured down on him.
Yi Jingang somehow felt himself shrinking back and tried to steady his nerves. In truth, mounting the stage was a burden he alone had to bear, but the absence of Yi Jinpyeong watching over them weighed heavily on the brothers. Ever since the youngest had recovered from what seemed like an incurable madness, they'd followed in the wake of Yi Jinpyeong's bold strides, which had practically led the family here.
But they couldn't rely on him forever, nor could he protect them indefinitely. If they remained weak, it would only become a greater burden on him—and Yi Jingang had felt that truth down to his bones from his experience with the Sichuan Dang Clan last time.
That was the moment it began. He started pushing himself even harder.
He hadn't slacked off before, but the Yi Jingang before and after brushing death's door was utterly transformed. Seeing his own body used as bait, captured and helpless, while his youngest brother overcame every obstacle and fought desperately right before his eyes—it changed everything.
Over the past few months, he'd poured his all into it. Today's stage would be a fine chance to test those results. Yi Jinpyeong had likely entered them into the tournament with that very intent.
But... the moment he confirmed his opponent, all his resolve and confidence shattered to pieces.
"Hwasan Sect, Byeok Seol-hwa!"
"Ooooh!!!"
"Finally, Hwasan's last contender steps up!"
A massive roar erupted. Not a single disciple from the Nine Great Sects and One Gang had fallen yet. Especially those from traditional powerhouses like Shaolin, Hwasan, and Wudang—they'd displayed utterly overwhelming skill.
And Hwasan's final representative, Byeok Seol-hwa, drew particular attention for her stunning beauty.
Amid the bustling crowd, Byeok Seol-hwa rose quietly from where she'd been sitting with the other female later-generation disciples. As she approached with elegant, haughty steps, every eye followed her movements.
"Whoa... look at that radiant beauty!"
"She's the future's number one beauty of the Central Plains, no doubt!"
"Nah, I'm casting my vote for Jongnam Sect's Yeon Jin. I like that flashy type."
"Your eyes must be bad. How can you say that after seeing such refined grace?!"
"Still... she's that pretty—think her martial arts are any good?"
"Of course. You think Hwasan would send out anyone mediocre?"
The atmosphere boiled over. She was beautiful even among the other women, but standing apart from the group, she shone even brighter. Her pristine martial robes, embroidered with Hwasan's signature pink plum blossoms and utterly spotless, fit her impeccably. Her stride was proud, chin held high, as if she harbored not a shred of doubt in herself.
It stood in stark contrast to Yi Jingang's shabby robes, once clean but now caked with dirt in places.
Yi Jingang didn't mind the comparisons in looks or attire. He was used to fingers pointed his way. But facing a Hwasan disciple as his very first opponent in the tournament? That was profoundly unwelcome.
'No face left to show Jinpyeong. Dropping out in the first match.'
Yi Jingang gave a bitter smile. He wasn't the only one expecting an obvious outcome. The crowd's murmurs stung his ears.
"This'll be tough for him, right? Over in one move?"
"Obviously!"
"But didn't Yi Gajang's second brother just show some insane lightness skill? Can't we expect something from the eldest too?"
"That's not the guy I remember. He's bulked up quite a bit."
"Come on, even so, no chance. I've seen him plenty."
"Yeah. Even if he's improved a little, against Hwasan? Forget it."
The expected reactions. If it had been Yi Jinpyeong on stage, the gazes and expectations would have been entirely different. He'd already crushed multiple opponents yesterday and today with overwhelming dominance.
But no one thought Yi Jingang—raised as Yi Gajang's patriarch from boyhood under the eyes of everyone around Dongjeong Lake—would put on a good show against a Hwasan disciple. Not even after his youngest, Yi Jinpyeong, and second brother, Yi Jinun, had shone so brightly.
Hwasan's female disciple—Byeok Seol-hwa—stood facing Yi Jingang. Her curious eyes scanned him up and down, but disappointment soon flickered across her face. The natural dignity and aura flowing from Yi Jinpyeong were nowhere to be felt in his older brother. His awkward movements and bearing, his forced calm expression, his uneasy eyes.
She glanced briefly toward where the Yi brothers sat, then asked Yi Jingang, "Where'd your younger brother go?"
Yi Jingang replied politely, "He stepped away for a moment on some business."
"...Pity."
She said no more on what she found pitying. As if even the brief time facing him was a waste, she coldly raised her sword, pointing it at him. The scabbard was still on it. Just like Yi Jinun's had been.
Ooo— Gasps rose from the crowd. Not just her confident demeanor, but her poised stance with sword extended—it was like beholding a painting.
Yi Jingang raised his own sword in response. The scabbard remained intact, like hers. Their postures mirrored, but the momentum was worlds apart. Yi Jingang already seemed shrunken, intimidated. Even without clashing, victory and defeat seemed plain.
At that moment—
"Big brother—!!! Let's go! You got this! Show 'em hot!"
In the entire arena, the sole voice cheering Yi Jingang—Yi Jinun's—boomed out.
The crowd burst into wahaha! laughter. Everyone gathered there believed without doubt: the Yi brothers had performed well so far, true, but against the Nine Great Sects and One Gang's later-generation disciples? Entirely different story.
A perfectly reasonable assumption.
Until the match began.
Pat!
Byeok Seol-hwa launched first. Her opening strike carried ferocious power. Inevitably so—she intended to end it in one blow.
That kid Yi Jinpyeong had put on quite the show against Cheongsung's Nam Sogyun and Shaolin's Do Jin, sure. But she harbored unshakable pride and conviction. No sect in the Central Plains could match Hwasan, and among them, no later-generation disciple could rival her, hailed as a once-in-a-generation genius.
Not even if they were Yi Gajang's heirs.
She'd heard plenty about Yi Gyeol, the greatest under heaven who once dominated an era, and Yi Gajang's tales—from her master, from Hwasan's handed-down records.
But those were all stories of the past.
'One move. That's all it'll take.'
People fixated on her looks and cheered, but after this tournament, everything would change. She'd overwhelm them all—Cheongsung, Wudang, Shaolin, even the legendary Yi Gajang of old.
The sword sliced through space. Though sheathed, it held speed and momentum to cleave rock. Her opponent showed no reaction until it was nearly upon him. As if he couldn't even track her.
Which made sense.
But...
"!!!"
Byeok Seol-hwa saw it. The eyes of the youth who'd seemed utterly lacking in confidence, perpetually cowed—those eyes slid, smoothly tracking her movement.
His extended sword shifted just enough to exquisitely block her path.
'Good eyes. But that's it!'
The strike held about thirty percent of her inner energy. Any mediocre cultivator would have their sword flung away, grip torn open.
Yet the moment their swords met, she couldn't help but panic.
His sword neither blocked nor rebounded. Instead, it softly enveloped her flow.
In that instant of crossing—or meeting—Yi Jingang's sword, and his form, followed the grain of her swing, using its very power to lightly retreat.
Byeok Seol-hwa was stunned.
'Post-Initiative Supremacy, and Harmonious Wood Reception!'
His reaction was late, but his response unhesitating. Moving a beat behind yet countering precisely and aptly—his speed was immeasurable. Even borrowing her force to leap back was no mean feat.
'Not what he seems. A hidden expert!'
Byeok Seol-hwa brimmed with confidence, but she wasn't one to get arrogant or careless. The moment she sensed his first move was no joke, she reacted instantly.
Having committed to an attack assuming success left openings for counters. She swiftly withdrew her thrust, drawing plum blossoms in all directions to shield and retreat.
In an instant, the air bloomed pink.
"Ooooh!"
The crowd gasped in unison. Her spatial traversal, her retreating sword shake-off—both showcased her caliber. Even holding back to seventy percent for the finals.
"Beautiful technique! True Hwasan style!"
"It over already?"
"...No. Not yet."
A split-second clash, a fierce assault—yet Yi Jingang still stood firm on stage. The crowd struggled to grasp what happened.
"What just went down? Thought it'd end in one exchange."
"Maybe she went easy? Just a feint?"
Byeok Seol-hwa furrowed her brow. Amid the murmurs, Yi Jingang hadn't budged. As if unable to believe he'd blocked it, he simply stared down at his hand and sword.
That dumbstruck look irked her. She sent a sharp sound transmission.
"Were you hiding your skill? Trying to lure me into a trap? Think that clumsy act is funny?"
Yi Jingang's face clearly showed fluster upon hearing it. He clasped hands and fist, bowing politely before replying aloud.
"I've never put on an act. I lack the talent for such things..."
Byeok Seol-hwa's expression hardened. She'd clearly sent a transmission—why raise his voice? Clearly to spread that she'd transmitted first, tarnishing her honor and poise.
Seeing her icy glare, Yi Jingang hurriedly added,
"I... I actually don't know sound transmission. Please forgive me..."
"Hmph!"
An expert like him unable to transmit? Absurd. Fury exploded at the ridiculous excuse.
'I'll make you kneel. Humiliating me.'
Wooong— Her sword hummed.
Byeok Seol-hwa's toes skimmed the floor, her sword arcing through the air. White or pink petals bloomed along its trajectory.
At its tip, Yi Jingang teetered unsteadily.