Chapter 90
Chapter 90
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 90
Chapter Title: Eleventh Spar - Bet, Competition (5)
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It was the moment Mok Ri-won caught his breath.
“Won’t you get up!!!”
Byeok U-rim bellowed.
The eight warriors who had just collapsed began to rise, groaning.
Mok Ri-won stared at Byeok U-rim with a dazed expression.
‘Is there really any need to push it this far?’
Of course, it was an important friendly spar.
With spirit elixirs on the line, their resolve was bound to be fierce. That much he understood.
But hadn’t the match already been decided?
The Dragon-Phoenix Squad had secured five victories.
Even if they won from here, all they’d gain was the consolation of not suffering a total defeat.
Thus, Mok Ri-won spoke.
“You can stay down. Even if all ten of you rushed me at once, I could lay eight of you out again.”
It might sound arrogant, but Mok Ri-won was confident.
He had grasped the sword path woven by these men.
The intent of that path and the countless variables it could spawn were no longer an issue for him.
He had learned from his previous battle with O Gang-ak.
Byeok U-rim was at the edge of the Pinnacle Realm.
His internal energy was on par with Mok Ri-won’s, but that alone couldn’t stop him from toppling them.
“There’s no need to injure yourselves this badly. I’ll win in the end anyway.”
Byeok U-rim’s eyes bulged red at the words spat while adjusting his grip on his sword.
“How arrogant.”
“That’s just the truth.”
Mok Ri-won raised his sword.
“If you can’t believe it, testing it out is a fine way to prove it.”
By now, the eight warriors had risen again.
Byeok U-rim ground his teeth and shouted.
“Attack!”
This time, it was a joint assault of all ten, including Byeok U-rim and Gyeon Dong himself.
Byeok U-rim formed the central axis.
As he charged straight at Mok Ri-won, the warriors followed in sync with his movements.
It was a joint formation encircling Mok Ri-won from all eight directions, reinforced front and back.
Mok Ri-won realized it from their positions alone and drew in a deep breath.
‘Perfect timing. I had something I wanted to test.’
Mok Ri-won spun around gracefully.
As he did, he began swinging his sword in a dance-like motion.
Srrrring—
Byeok U-rim’s sword, at the forefront, clashed with Mok Ri-won’s.
Mok Ri-won’s sword didn’t push it away but rode along it smoothly, veering off in another direction.
What followed was bizarre.
“What…!”
True Origin Unit Leader Gang Chan shot to his feet, staring at the scene.
“An illusion? No, a flow?”
The distinction was ambiguous.
While illusionary sword and flowing sword shared similarities, it had never been this unclear.
Mok Ri-won’s sword rode Byeok U-rim’s blade, twisting its path as it surged forward again.
Byeok U-rim’s sword bent at an unintended angle, crossing with Gyeon Dong’s.
Chaeng—
The clash of steel rang out.
It wasn’t over.
Eight more swords still shot toward Mok Ri-won.
Losing their paths upon crossing the two warriors’ blades, they began ricocheting wildly.
The warriors struggled to regain control, but it was impossible.
Chaeng— Chaeng—
Swords seeking their trajectories were twisted once more by Mok Ri-won’s unnatural deflections, weaving into each other.
That was the sight of the True Origin Unit’s swords entangling.
Like insects thrashing in a spider’s web, they shook pitifully.
This was the second stance of the Ten Thousand Lotuses Sword Mok Ri-won had devised.
Spider Silk Exchange Sword.
Having woven their swords like spider silk to disrupt their flow, Mok Ri-won shifted to offense.
Thud— Thud-thud—
He began striking the ground with his sword.
Accelerating gradually, he soon swung it at a speed that blurred his form.
Chaeng—!
One sound per ten strikes.
Targeting the balance point of each sword precisely, he struck them down like lightning.
Soul-Stealing Swift Strike.
As the first stance of the Ten Thousand Lotuses Sword manifested, the warriors’ swords flew into the air.
Only Byeok U-rim and Gyeon Dong still clung to theirs.
Mok Ri-won seized the opening from their flinch and struck down the eight warriors first.
“Kuaak!”
“Keuk!”
He had numbed their joints with the flat of his blade.
They wouldn’t rise again in this spar.
“Uwaaak!”
Byeok U-rim roared and lunged with a thrust, his momentum sharp.
‘The solar plexus.’
Spotting the target, Mok Ri-won’s eyes gleamed.
His sword speed hadn’t slowed.
One strike there, and Byeok U-rim wouldn’t rise again.
He swung with that thought.
“Uaht!”
Gyeon Dong swung his sword wide.
‘…Him first.’
Mok Ri-won pivoted half a turn, striking Gyeon Dong charging from behind.
Pababak!
Right knee, left elbow, right shoulder, forehead—all struck with the flat.
Gyeon Dong collapsed with a gurgle.
Mok Ri-won confirmed it and turned to Byeok U-rim.
*
Gyeon Dong watched Mok Ri-won and Byeok U-rim’s spar with half-lidded eyes as he lay sprawled.
His head throbbed from the recent blow to the forehead.
“Keurgh….”
At the sight before him, Gyeon Dong thought absently.
‘Talent….’
That was a spar between the talented.
A superhuman duel of blocking and thrusting dozens of times per instant, endlessly calculating moves.
A realm no ordinary person could touch, no matter their struggles.
The thought ignited something within him.
-Useless thing.
What made that possible?
What was talent, to divide people so starkly?
What allowed it to determine a person’s worth?
‘I want…!’
He wanted talent.
To reach higher realms.
Only then.
‘Grandfather…!’
Could he earn his recognition.
*
Dull Sword Gyeon Dong.
Despite being a division leader in the Murim Alliance, his moniker was the Dull Sword.
It was only natural.
He hadn’t risen to division leader through swordsmanship.
His position came solely from being the grandson of the Inner Cabinet Leader.
Any ordinary person would have quit from the scorn.
Any warrior prizing pride over life would have.
But Gyeon Dong did not.
He wasn’t a warrior to begin with.
Born more suited to scholarly arts than martial ones.
Why then was such a man a Murim Alliance division leader?
To explain required going further back.
Young Gyeon Dong had been poor.
His father was a penniless scholar of the Gyeon clan, his mother a peddler of trinkets at the market.
They often went hungry.
Yet Gyeon Dong was happy then.
-Dong-ah, you’ll become a fine scholar.
Loving parents embraced him, and market alleys rang with endless laughter.
His life changed when his frail father took ill and bedridden.
And when his mother’s trade collapsed beyond saving.
They needed money for medicine.
No one in the family could provide it.
As his father’s condition worsened daily, his mother’s face grew gaunt.
After three grueling years, she said.
-Dong-ah, won’t you come with Mother to see Grandfather?
Gyeon Dong was shocked.
He had never heard of a grandfather.
That day, he learned he was born to a prestigious clan.
And lost his parents.
“You’re my grandson?
Sea Wave Sword Gyeon Gyeol, Inner Cabinet Leader of the Murim Alliance.
Gyeon Dong feared the gaze of the famed elder he’d only heard in whispers.
-Father, please, our husband…
-Calling me Father now?
-…Please.
-There’s a condition.
-Whatever it is…
-He proves my bloodline. Leave him. I’ll raise the boy as a Murim warrior in place of that runaway son.
-What? No!
His mother screamed at Gyeon Gyeol, who wanted him.
Young as he was, Gyeon Dong sensed the dire situation.
And knew stepping forward could resolve it.
-Mother, I’ll do it.
Thus, he abandoned family for family.
-Dong-ah….
-Father needs medicine! I’ll do it!
Gyeon Dong was a coward.
But a boy who knew love.
So he sacrificed himself.
Growing as Gyeon Gyeol’s grandson to earn medicine as a stranger.
Exactly three years.
The time it took for regret to set in.
His father never recovered.
Father passed, and mother died from the shock.
No time to grieve.
Gyeon Gyeol gave one month to mourn at home, then redoubled his training.
In the end, Gyeon Dong failed.
-Useless fool.
He had no talent for martial arts.
It was pathetic.
Gyeon Gyeol blamed his lowly mother’s womb, but Gyeon Dong knew.
It was his lack of courage and boldness.
His inability to wield a sword and face foes.
He endured the scornful gazes and words.
What he couldn’t endure was separate.
-I took a loss.
His grandfather’s contempt.
Now alone, it hurt unbearably that his sole ally turned away.
Gyeon Dong loved affection.
Family, their smiles.
He couldn’t bear losing them.
He wanted to win back Gyeon Gyeol’s heart.
To hide his lacking martial talent, he turned to politics.
Building influence to stay in the Murim Alliance.
To earn recognition.
Then Grandfather would look again.
That was the plan.
He resolved to grow ruthless.
Brazen, immoral.
If it yielded results.
If it kept him by Grandfather’s side.
But that too was the end.
Chaeng—!
Everything ended.
He was now utterly out of his grandfather’s favor, no way back.
Even if he died homeless, no one would care.
In that instant.
“Keuk…!”
Gyeon Dong felt a strange emotion.
His gut burned, eyes welled hot.
Indignation.
Thud!
He staggered to his feet.
Joints throbbed, standing agony, but lying worse.
“Uwaaak!!!”
Tears streaming ugly, he roared.
And charged Mok Ri-won.
‘Talent!’
It was all that bastard’s talent.
A superhuman realm untouchable despite effort and support.
Failing to protect parents, earn grandfather’s approval, collapsing like this.
His entire life.
All because talent fell short.
Shoulder and elbow ruined, sword path a mess.
His roar had alerted Mok Ri-won.
Ppaak!
“Keoheok!”
This time, the waist.
Mok Ri-won downed him instantly and turned to Byeok U-rim.
Gyeon Dong spat fury amid tears, snot, drool streaming.
And rose.
“Keu, aaa…!”
He charged with broken voice.
Mok Ri-won’s eyes flickered.
But the sword was merciless.
Ppaak!
Thigh struck squarely.
Gyeon Dong fell again, rose again.
Indignation too vast.
With all ending, it was infuriating not to land even one blow without that one talent.
‘Just one…!’
He had everything—surely one hit was affordable.
No blemish from that.
Why deny even that?
Staggering, Gyeon Dong approached Mok Ri-won.
No strength to shout, only ragged breaths.
Ppaak!
Calf struck, he collapsed.
And.
“Keuheuh….”
Rose once more.