#101. Hell's Appointed Time: The Third Gate (4)
When Hell's Appointed Time began at South Mount, crowds poured in from all directions.
The martial tournament at the Three Gates was a must-see spectacle for anyone unconnected to the martial world—a once-in-a-lifetime thrill—and an essential stop for gossip-loving busybodies hunting for drinks and stories. Not just locals from Henan Province, but visitors from other provinces flooded in, turning South Mount into a buzzing hive of outsiders like never before. Yet the actual residents of South Mount couldn't have cared less about the tournament.
"You not going to watch the fights?"
"Same old crap every year. Why bother? Get back to work quick. If not now, when do we make a killing?"
With Shaolin—the North Star of the martial world—right there in Henan, they naturally snatched up most of the Three Gates plaques. Wudang from Hubei occasionally joined in, but with no bad blood between Shaolin and Wudang, the results never varied much.
"You hear? Total chaos right now."
"Chaos? What, Wudang and Shaolin finally throwing down?"
"Idiot! Wudang just lost to Tae-eul Gate."
"Tae-eul Gate? That fake-legend Tae-eul Sword Emperor's sect?"
"Yeah!"
The sudden upset had even the merchants of South Mount closing shop one by one. News of a martial world titan falling was heart-pounding stuff, even for those with no ties to it.
"No way!"
"Wudang's Hyeon-su lost?"
Those who'd watched the match live at the Murim Alliance's South Mount branch training ground were stunned even more. Shaolin, Wudang's rivals, took it hardest of all.
"...So Senior Brother Il-myeong was telling the truth."
"Indeed. Now I get why he warned us not to challenge Tae-eul Gate disciples during the Murim Academy exam."
Shaolin disciples taking the academy exam had heeded Il-myeong's words and skipped challenging Tae-eul Gate. They'd been clueless until Jin Sowoon's single move revealed the reason behind the warning.
"Even so, Senior Brother Hyeon-su's response was oddly flustered. How could Taiji Sword fail to discern illusion from reality?"
"It wasn't that he couldn't discern. He threw away the chance himself."
If he'd focused from the start, he could've blocked it easily. The illusions and feints dazzled the eyes, but the real strikes were few. Yet Hyeon-su had yielded the first three forms and let his guard slip entirely.
But what could you do? No one could've predicted Tae-eul Gate's illusion sword would be that bizarre and unpredictable.
Crunch.
Hyeon-su's face burned red as he descended from the training ground. Not content with boldly conceding the first three forms, he'd panicked at Jin Sowoon's first move, abandoned defense for offense, gotten smashed by illusions filling the air, and been pushed out of bounds—eliminated.
In front of crowds who'd trekked far just to glimpse Wudang robes, he'd shamed himself. Far from showcasing Wudang's might, he'd tarnished their name. For Hyeon-su, experiencing such humiliation for the first time, he had no idea how to compose himself.
"…."
"…."
Even so, Hyeon-su spoke first. If he didn't say something, the awkward silence would suffocate him.
"…Th-that guy's illusion sword has unnatural variations."
"N-not… really? I mean, yeah?"
His junior, Hyeon-gun, bit back 'Didn't seem like much' as an elbow from another brother jabbed his side. He just nodded stiffly.
"Still, the real strikes hidden inside were vicious."
"Y-yeah… sure."
Their dubious tone was obvious, but Hyeon-su couldn't call them out. He'd already left his senior's dignity up on that stage.
Now it was Tae-eul Gate's turn to send up their next examinee.
Moments later, Tae-eul Gate's youngest, Dongryong, stepped onto the training ground. Clutching a grown man's sword despite his small frame, he looked just like a sword boy—prompting chuckles from the stands here and there.
"Ahem, Divine Martial Thirteen Swords should handle Tae-eul Gate's illusion sword well."
Hyeon-jin, about to ascend, froze at Hyeon-su's words.
"Divine Martial Thirteen Swords excels against illusions with its sheer speed, making it easy to counter the real blade within."
"…."
Hyeon-jin, who would've bellowed agreement before, just stared blankly at Hyeon-su and Hyeon-myeong.
Their exchanged glances made Hyeon-su's face flush crimson again.
"…Senior Brother Hyeon-su's right."
Hyeon-myeong quickly backed him up, but the red didn't fade from Hyeon-su's cheeks.
Among Wudang techniques, Divine Martial Thirteen Swords bordered on killing arts. Unlike Taiji Sword, which delved deep into yin-yang mysteries for enlightenment, it was designed for efficient subjugation and slaughter. Naturally, it wasn't even taught to children whose Taiji Sword insight was immature.
Divine Martial Thirteen Swords pursued such extreme efficiency that even seasoned ronin struggled against it. To counter it, you'd need heaps of killing experience or an even more efficient sword style—neither of which Tae-eul Gate could possibly have.
Poor kid.
At least against Taiji Sword, he wouldn't suffer major injury. But to save face for Senior Brother Hyeon-su, Divine Martial Thirteen Swords it was.
With that drawn, Dongryong's severe wounding was inevitable. His two elders might spend their lives nursing him.
"Ready…."
The undersized boy struck a starting stance—same as Jin Sowoon's—oblivious or not to his fate.
"Begin!"
At the referee's call, they charged.
Hyeon-jin stepped into Wind Control Step, parrying the opening swift sword. Tae-eul Gate blades mixed swift strikes and illusions, slipping feints into the speed and phantoms to sow chaos.
But such tricks paled against faster, more efficient swords.
As Divine Martial Thirteen Swords unfolded, it outpaced Dongryong's swing, slicing across his chest.
Three exchanges in, and it was over.
"!"
But then—
"What?!"
The wrist-slicing swift sword veered sharply. Hyeon-jin aimed for the chest, yet Dongryong's blade thrust straight for his throat.
So that's why the swift sword wasn't that fast?
Slower than expected for a swift strike—and hiding this trick.
No choice; Hyeon-jin withdrew Divine Martial Thirteen Swords, created distance, then lunged again.
Dongryong's sword bloomed with afterimages—illusions and feints like Jin Sowoon's.
Alert, Hyeon-jin discerned the faint fakes and charged anew.
Twitch.
Hyeon-jin's step halted.
Definite illusion sword—yet targeting vital points with eerie precision. A graze would sever arteries, fatal.
Instinctively, Hyeon-jin reached out with his left hand.
Squelch.
"Gasp!"
"What the hell? Why reach for the sword with his hand?"
"Is he nuts?"
Hyeon-jin stared in shock as blood sprayed from his hand. It was an illusion. Or had it turned real? Or disguised real as fake from the start?
Not luck—Dongryong calmly continued his forms.
Several illusions sprouted around him, all stabbing Hyeon-jin's vitals.
Desperate, Hyeon-jin Wind Control Stepped free of the blade zone.
"Wooooaaah!"
Cheers erupted everywhere.
Only then did dazed Hyeon-jin realize: against Tae-eul Gate's youngest, he'd retreated ten paces.
And amid the roar, Dongryong fixated on him alone, pressing relentlessly.
Illusions and feints tricked foes to hide the real. Common sense: make them flashier, more complex.
But Dongryong's were abnormal. Even fakes targeted only deadliest spots, concealing the real to reap lives.
Illusion sword purely for killing?
Unheard-of weirdness; no stomach for reengaging. Felt like facing an assassin master who'd slain thousands—not some scrub.
Using Divine Martial Thirteen Swords against that? For fools only.
Fail to filter fakes, and death loomed.
Hyeon-jin instinctively glared murderously at Hyeon-su. That idiot's dumb advice had him on the verge of losing to a Tae-eul disciple.
With main art Taiji Sword, no confusion from illusions.
Tae-eul kid's internal energy: maybe ten years. His own, four times that—how could he lose?
As his hand tangled with Dongryong's sword, his mind knotted too.
Mind tangled, even clear illusions now looked real.
Full power surged; he battered them away—most phantoms.
Unable to pace himself, Hyeon-jin flailed wildly like a madman.
"Heh…."
"What the hell's he doing?"
"Looks like he's swinging frantically 'cause he's scared of the opponent closing in."
More desperate swings, more energy from Hyeon-jin—yet he retreated.
Tae-eul Gate's Dongryong showed barely any emotion change from the start.
That unshakable poise wore Hyeon-jin down further.
"Impossible! How can trash like Tae-eul Gate—!"
"…."
Suddenly, red glinted in Dongryong's eyes.
Unfamiliar sticky killing intent froze Hyeon-jin rigid.
Then Dongryong burrowed into his guard.
"Don't badmouth my sect."
The whisper in his ear, and the world spun.
Thud.
Shock rattled his body; coming to, Hyeon-jin lay on the ground. His sword lay far off; a blade hovered at his throat, edge razor-sharp, ready to pierce.
"…Halt! Halt! Winner: Tae-eul Gate's Dongryong!"
No one—not even Hyeon-su—had predicted it. Cheers exploded everywhere.
"Wooooaaah!"
Clutching his oversized sword tight, Dongryong—innocent face erasing all trace of prior killing intent—bowed to the crowds and descended.
The unexpected result had the stands in a frenzy. Already the second one.
Wudang disciples—likened to dragons—had fallen consecutively to nobodies from some minor sect.
"See? Told ya!"
"For real. Wudang! Wudang!"
"So the Tae-eul Sword Emperor rumors were true?"
The packed stands erupted in cheers and shock.
Other sects watching felt the same. Some inwardly sighed in relief.
They'd seen Tae-eul Gate as easiest prey—first to grab wins the prize. Now thanking Wudang for taking the L instead.
"…."
"…."
"…."
Wudang took the biggest hit, of course.
Descending Hyeon-jin kept his head down, avoiding eyes—glaring murder at Hyeon-su if he opened his mouth.
"…."
So Hyeon-su couldn't console or strategize.
He knew the mistake.
Tae-eul illusion sword was craftier than thought. Jin Sowoon's was mere flourish; Dongryong's outdid swift swords in efficiency.
A match winnable by crushing with Taiji Sword internal energy from the start—ruined by needless detours.
"…Tae-eul Gate's illusion sword sometimes hides real strikes inside. Stay calm, unswayed—stick to your own sword. That's key."
Hyeon-jin's advice to Hyeon-hyang, next up.
Hyeon-hyang, having watched, knew it well.
As he ascended, Tae-eul Gate sent Eunho.
Hyeon-su sidled to Hyeon-jin to apologize.
"…!"
Hyeon-jin shot up, backing five steps away. Hyeon-su's face crumpled like paper.
Cheers rang from all sides.
The crowd, finding the matches thrilling, roared even louder as he stepped up.
Where am I? Who am I?
Eunho—mastermind of 'Operation: Send Big Bro to Murim Academy!'—hadn't planned on the Three Gates stage.
Just over ten years' internal energy. Fifteen-ish after big bro's spirit pills, but not enough for Three Gates.
Competitors were same-age monsters. Top monsters: Shaolin, Wudang. One faced him now.
For the smartest of the three brothers, this was unwinnable.
Glancing at Tae-eul group: big bro thumbs-upped casually.
Of course—he's weird, so he won.
Dongryong thumbs-upped.
Of course—with his killer star unlocked and controlled.
Geum Pyo, tense-faced, thumbs-upped.
Bro, put that finger down.
What're they thinking?
Last night, opponents set, big bro dragged Geum Pyo and him for crash course.
"You'll master three forms. Nail 'em, and you'll win tomorrow."
Demonstrating sword forms.
At first, head-scratch—then Taiji Sword.
"Wudang's main art: Taiji Sword. You two drill three counters to shatter it."
"…."
No clue when he'd learned it, but the three forms that followed lit Eunho's eyes.
"Uh… so… that…."
"Got the gist?"
Big bro demoed Taiji Sword slow. Eunho mirrored the counter.
Clang.
Black Dragon Sword nearly flew from big bro's hand.
"…Whoa."
"See?"
"How the…."
"Questions later. Pull an all-nighter mastering these three."
Geum Pyo raised hand.
"Dongryong skips?"
"He doesn't need to. Gotta fool 'em."
Big bro's scheme unclear, but Geum Pyo nodded, posed.
Not the point, bro. Real question time.
"Big bro, what if Wudang skips Taiji Sword?"
"No worries. After me and Dongryong, they'll have no choice."
"…That 'believe and it happens' thing?"
Shouldn't have asked—big bro smacked 'em with Black Dragon Sword flat multiple times during drills.
All-nighter drilling three forms. Big bro sparring both solo? Impressive in hindsight.
If useless, Eunho'd forfeit on stage. Injury now meant missing big bro's grand tour.
But—
"Whoa… it works."
Wudang's Hyeon-hyang opened with Taiji Sword stance.
"Faith really delivers."
Gonna end up cult-following big bro at this rate—worrisome.
Sleepless, Eunho readied Twin Heaven Sword Conclusion stance, three counters primed.