Chapter 36
Chapter 36
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Dragon-Phoenix Tournament (9)
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Dang Hwa-seo had advanced to the top four.
These words implied so much.
Why wouldn’t they?
With her single victory over Hye-un, Dang Hwa-seo had silenced all the controversies surrounding her.
First, the stagnation in her martial arts.
Some had whispered that her skills had regressed during her disappearance, but she had proven those rumors false with her own prowess.
Second, her discord with the Tang Clan.
Others claimed she was at odds with her clan, preventing her from engaging in external activities, but her bold participation in this Dragon-Phoenix Tournament had dispelled those doubts.
In truth, one could say this outcome aligned perfectly with Dang Hwa-seo’s intentions.
‘Now, the clan can no longer openly threaten me.’
What the Clan Leader feared most was discord with her—the face of their clan—becoming public.
No, more precisely, it was that discord surfacing above the water.
The Clan Leader valued the name of the Sichuan Tang Clan above his own pride and was a man who could grovel as much as needed for it. Thus, while she elevated the family’s prestige, he had no choice but to remain silent.
Dang Hwa-seo continued her contemplation.
‘Of course, assuming they won’t approach me at all would be naive.’
They would come for her during the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament.
Right after it ended, to “retrieve” her, they might employ threats or persuasions.
‘…It’s time to make my move.’
She needed to approach Fist Dragon Il-un in earnest.
Before the Tang Clan found her.
“Little Sister?”
Lost in thought, she snapped back as Mok Ri-won spoke.
Dang Hwa-seo finally pulled herself from her reverie and looked at him.
“Ah, yes.”
“You must be really tense! Of course you are! This is the top four—the highlight of the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament!”
“Yes, I suppose we’ve made it this far.”
“I’m thrilled we both reached the top four. Looking at the bracket, we’d only meet in the finals!”
Dang Hwa-seo gave a wry smile at Mok Ri-won’s words brimming with anticipation.
“I probably won’t make it to the finals. My next opponent is Namgung Jincheon.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You won’t know until you try!”
Was it shit or bean paste? You had to taste it to tell.
Dang Hwa-seo appreciated Mok Ri-won’s positivity, but in moments like this, it felt inconvenient.
‘Even five years ago, he was an insurmountable wall.’
Now, with the gap even wider, how could she possibly compete?
She had achieved her initial goal, so what remained was using Il-un to reach Shaolin.
And there, meet the Abbot…
‘…And join the Murim Alliance.’
She would go to a place the Tang Clan couldn’t touch.
But no need to reveal all that, so Dang Hwa-seo offered an evasive reply.
“…Yes, I suppose I’m already making excuses. I’ll give it my all.”
“Good! I’ll look forward to meeting you in the finals, Little Sister!”
Only then did Mok Ri-won grin broadly and down his bowl of alcohol.
He should watch his nutrition too, filling up on that every meal—it suddenly worried her.
‘…No, why am I fussing over side dishes like some mother?’
Wasn’t this treating him too much like a child? She shook off the thought.
And spoke.
“Young Hero Mok’s next opponent will be either Il-un Monk or Immortal Dragon.”
“Yes! I want to face Il-un Monk!”
“There’s a high chance it will be him. Immortal Dragon…”
Dang Hwa-seo recalled the Immortal Dragon she had met before.
The man who always smiled faintly and kept silent.
Even as he stepped onto the stage, he hadn’t shed that air of detachment.
“…Hmm, he certainly has the skill for his title, but I can’t picture him beating Il-un Monk.”
“You don’t know much about him either, Little Sister?”
“No, not much is known about him.”
Immortal Dragon Hyeon-gong was a man shrouded in mystery.
Even against Namgung Jincheon, rumors said he hadn’t shown his true strength, always exchanging just enough moves before forfeiting.
Thus, the Detached Dragon—Immortal Dragon.
‘He’ll do the same this time.’
He’d surely exchange a few moves with Il-un and then forfeit.
“Well, we’ll find out tomorrow.”
Dang Hwa-seo said this and picked up her chopsticks.
Tomorrow was the final group semifinal. Her mind was filled with plans to congratulate the victorious Il-un and make contact.
***
This was an unexpected upset.
[Immortal Dragon! Victory!]
“Waaaaah!!!”
Dang Hwa-seo stared at the stage in disbelief.
There stood Immortal Dragon, clasping his hands in his usual detached pose, while Il-un knelt pathetically before him.
‘What…?’
She couldn’t comprehend it.
Not that Immortal Dragon had won, but the method.
Il-un was strong.
As always, he unleashed his fists with unyielding solidity and righteousness, delivering a barrage that could shatter the stage.
Immortal Dragon dodged them lightly, and at the end, swung his sword just once.
Il-un knelt to that single strike.
Dang Hwa-seo looked at Mok Ri-won.
Surely he could make sense of it. But…
“…Young Hero Mok?”
Mok Ri-won stared at Immortal Dragon with a rigidly tense face.
Dang Hwa-seo tried to read his expression.
‘Shock? Anger? Or…?’
She couldn’t tell.
He was always bright unless something was wrong.
Now, frowning as if unable to comprehend, staring at Immortal Dragon—it even worried her.
“Young Hero Mok.”
“Ah…”
Only when she grabbed his arm did Mok Ri-won snap back and turn to her.
Dang Hwa-seo asked with concern.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I was just lost in thought.”
Mok Ri-won relaxed his expression as he spoke.
“Shouldn’t we go to Il-un Monk? We built some rapport; a word of comfort is in order.”
“Yes, I was planning to.”
Better to ask later. It was right to do this much.
Feeling regret over her disrupted plans, Dang Hwa-seo greeted the returning Il-un.
***
In a corner of the inn they always frequented.
Four men and women sat in a somber atmosphere.
Naturally, it was due to Il-un’s mood.
Il-un chewed his lips in frustration.
His fists were clenched as tightly as possible, and his eyes held uncharacteristic anger.
Anger at himself.
After trembling like that for a while, Il-un exhaled deeply and spoke.
“…I have no face.”
A bitter smile hung on his lips.
“I’m sorry, Patron Mok. I really wanted to face you on the stage.”
“No. Though defeated, your martial arts were so superb they drew admiration. No need for self-recrimination.”
“Thank you for saying so.”
Il-un took a deep breath and composed himself.
“Come now, you can’t eat because of me. I’m fine, so please eat.”
“Uh… cheer up.”
Even the flippant Jegal San offered sincere comfort in this moment.
Il-un couldn’t help but chuckle at that.
“As Patron Mok says, it’s already done. I’ve realized my shortcomings this time, so I’ll train harder and win next time.”
He meant it.
As befitting Shaolin’s future, he was sublimating his frustration and regret into drive for improvement.
Thus perfecting his immovability.
“…”
Mok Ri-won silently watched Il-un and thought.
About the recent match.
‘Immortal Dragon’s single move.’
Dang Hwa-seo hadn’t seen it clearly, but Mok Ri-won had watched from start to finish.
The Wudang essence, ‘Taiji’.
Using its principles, he had redirected the force back at Il-un.
But if that were all, Mok Ri-won wouldn’t have looked so grave.
The reason his face had hardened in the arena, why his heart still hadn’t settled, lay elsewhere.
‘It was definitely killing intent.’
His exceptional sensitivity to killing intent told him so.
In that instant, Immortal Dragon’s sword held murderous intent.
And its target was Il-un’s throat.
He had tried to kill Il-un.
‘Only at the end did he twist the path and halt the sword.’
He didn’t know the reasoning.
Even so, Mok Ri-won was furious.
At least as far as he knew, such killing intent had no place on a stage for displaying and exchanging martial arts.
Crack-.
Mok Ri-won’s fist clenched tight.
***
A week until the main tournament began.
In that time, crowds flocked to Seo-hyeon unlike ever before.
It was only natural.
The top four of the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament.
No matter the era, those who reached that level became the faces leading the next generation of the jianghu, so people swarmed to familiarize themselves with them.
Of course, prestigious sects from across the Central Plains were among them.
“Look over there. Paeng Do-wol, Extreme Blade of the Hubei Paeng Clan.”
“Over there—the Brilliant Sword Jin Myeong of Mount Hua Sect!”
“That one… yeah, definitely a Beggar’s Sect member.”
These were people who wouldn’t normally budge their heavy frames.
In other words, this Dragon-Phoenix Tournament was significant enough to move even them.
“The Swordless One’s influence is tremendous.”
“No kidding. He’s already set to be the new dragon. The course of the jianghu afterward will shift based on what he shows in these matches.”
“Huh… right, the Swordless One has no affiliation. Some will try to recruit him.”
“Prestigious families might even take him as a son-in-law.”
“But the Swordless One and Poison Phoenix…”
“Love doesn’t fill bellies. The Tang Clan is one of the top matches, but depending on conditions, he could go anywhere.”
Conversations like this echoed everywhere in Seo-hyeon.
It stemmed from Dang Hwa-seo and Hye-un’s match.
Their once hellish clash had twisted into romantic fodder over drinks.
“Poor Poison Phoenix.”
“Pfft, you think she’ll let him go? Remember her punching White Phoenix in the solar plexus and laughing.”
“True…”
“Enough of that—let’s go. The matches are starting soon.”
The gossiping men hurried off.
Their destination was an arena even larger than during the preliminaries.
People everywhere you looked.
They might have griped at the bustle, but instead, they grinned and whispered more.
“It’s not just clans and sects. Look at that ragged old man—former master Tyrant Fist Byeok Kwon-woong.”
“Why’s he here?”
“Heard he’s looking for a disciple. Wild in his youth, now in old age he needs someone to carry on.”
People-watching itself was entertaining.
They couldn’t contain their excitement at seeing rare masters gathered.
Then.
Boom-!
A drum sounded.
Tension rippled through the arena.
Boom-!
The mood shifted for one reason.
“He’s finally here.”
“Never thought I’d see him in person…”
The man entering now was a living legend of the orthodox martial world.
Boom-!
Twenty years ago, he had drenched the jianghu in blood—the Blood Massacre.
He was one of the pinnacles who ended it.
Boom-!
With the drumbeats, a massive elderly man entered through the opened gates.
Though nearing seventy, his back was unbent.
Eyes deep with dignity emanated majesty.
And at his waist, a sword etched with the passage of time.
“Sword King…!”
Sword King Namgung Hyeok.
He had arrived to personally oversee the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament in Anhui.