#11. The Third-Rate Warrior Who Protects the Sect's Honor (5)
"I told you as much!"
Back at the lodgings, he'd risen from the banquet to discuss the matter—and then the thunderbolt struck. Gang Chaeseok couldn't hide his fury, grinding his teeth, while Jin Taesan's face was stiffer than ever before.
"They insulted our sect. Was it right for me to hold back there?"
"Y-you... you bastard!"
Jin Taesan spoke in place of Gang Chaeseok, whose face had flushed red with excitement.
"You gave them the pretext they wanted. Can't you foresee what that pretext will bring?"
"It was a one-sided, forced pretext. Even if I'd endured the insult, they would've dragged me out in the end."
"Then there wouldn't have been any one-sided violence disguised as a spar."
"I'm not afraid of getting hurt in defeat. But I'm terrified of running away out of fear of defeat."
"......"
Jin Taesan rose silently and began untying his robe.
"Taesan, you—!"
Even with Saryeon there, his father didn't stop, as if lost in some thought.
"......!"
"What is this?!"
His bare back was etched with a deep scar. Strangely, it stretched long and narrow—about the width of four fingers—with a pointed end.
"Look closely. What kind of wound is this?"
Father had never shown his bare body even while living under the same roof. Come to think of it, it was astonishing that I had no memory of this scar even from my earliest childhood.
"What... kind of wound is it?"
"Look more carefully."
Too uniform for a whip mark, too pointed at the end for a club. The shape was just like pressing a sword firmly against flesh and pulling away...
"No way... a sword...?"
"You see it right. It's a scar carved twenty years ago by Seong Jutaek, the sub-lord of the Iron Sword Sect."
Grind. My teeth ground together.
"......What happened?"
"Pain is far more terrifying than you imagine."
"Tell me what happened."
"......"
Jin Taesan silently redonned his robe and left the lodgings without another word.
"Enough of this. Saryeon, you should head back too."
"If I don't hear the story, I can't know what happened. And if I don't know that, I can't predict what I'll do next."
"......"
"Everyone feels their family's flesh tearing more keenly than their own bones breaking. If I just go to sleep like this, tomorrow I'll fight Seong Mohyeon with the resolve to die—hell, even if it kills me."
"......When judged by equal achievement, Tae-eul Gate's sword can't beat the Iron Sword Sect's."
The essence of the Iron Sword Sect's swordsmanship was heaviness. Their founder, the Noble Sword Sage, wielded a four- chon-long greatsword, and now their perfected techniques all converged on blades with a three- chon width.
The essence of Tae-eul Gate's swordsmanship was swiftness. Speed alone couldn't pierce the Iron Sword Sect's weight without even greater internal energy or attainment to overwhelm it utterly.
"Even so, is it remotely justifiable to do that to the loser?"
Hong Saryeon couldn't hold back her anger any longer.
"It was a gathering of countless martial artists, just like today. Saryeon—could you meekly admit to a wrong you didn't commit?"
"......"
"That's why I told you not to get entangled, no matter how forced the situation. With the Murim Alliance's chief strategist and Namgung family members present, can you even imagine what nonsense those Ganseol Academy bastards might pull?"
*
Father didn't return all night. Only as the appointed time approached did I learn where he was—the central training ground.
"......"
"That fool Jin Taesan."
Gang Chaeseok's eyes blazed as if sparks might fly at the sight of him prostrating on the cold stone floor.
Those who'd been lavishly wined and dined at the sixtieth birthday feast now flocked to the central training ground, thrilled at the spectacle.
"What the hell happened?"
"I heard a Tae-eul Gate disciple insulted the Iron Sword Sect."
"Ha! Never seen such a reckless punk. Tae-eul Gate dares pull that crap here?"
"Looks like his father came to apologize. Word is, the Iron Sword Sect Lord magnanimously said he'd forgive him if he showed true remorse."
To draw even more spectators, the Iron Sword Sect sent servants to distribute simple snacks and liquor around the training ground. Even those prioritizing booze over the show came stumbling out from the halls.
"......"
As I approached Father, all eyes turned to me.
"Is that the kid?"
"Reckless brat's gonna get his old man flogged."
I drew near, but Father didn't budge.
"......Get down from here."
"Stand up. Why act like a criminal?"
"......What father in the world could bear seeing his son scarred?"
"No son in the world enjoys seeing his father humiliated."
"......"
The murmurs swelled as I reached to help Jin Taesan up. Then, atop the training ground appeared the Iron Sword Sect Lord, sub-lord Seong Jutaek, Murim Alliance chief strategist Jegal Somyeong, and Namgung family members Namgung Taewon and Namgung San.
"You're that Jin Sowoon of Tae-eul Gate."
The Iron Sword Sect Lord eyed me with contempt.
"That's right."
"What a manners-less wretch. Even after seeing the mess your loose tongue has wrought, you still don't grasp the situation?"
"What martial artist in the world shows respect to his father's enemy?"
"What?"
"I heard something like this happened twenty years ago too."
"......What nonsense is this?"
"You invited Tae-eul Gate to an Iron Sword Sect feast, insulted us, forced us to draw swords, and heaped humiliation on us, didn't you?"
"......!"
Murmurs rippled through the crowd at my words.
"What'd he say?"
"Come to think of it, back then..."
"Hey! Quiet down! You forget where you are?"
The speakers clamped their mouths shut under the Iron Sword Sect disciples' fierce glares.
"I get that you want to oust Tae-eul Gate and claim a spot among the 108 Peaks, but do you truly deserve to be a Murim Alliance faction after stooping to such gutter tactics?"
The commotion grew louder. Surely someone remembered the incident twenty years ago, feeling an eerie déjà vu from these strikingly similar events.
"Th-this bastard...!"
The Iron Sword Sect Lord trembled, glancing at Jegal Somyeong.
"......"
But Jegal Somyeong watched impassively, expression unchanged. Emboldened, the sect lord's face hardened.
"I don't know what you're babbling about. In any case, your father's suffering that disgrace because of what you did."
His father's hunched back on the ground suddenly seemed sturdy and immense.
"A father worrying for his son brings no shame. But your stinking, vile ploy to exploit even that fatherly heart turns my stomach!"
"Y-you punk!"
I pointed at Seong Mohyeon.
"That Seong Mohyeon told me to take responsibility for my words. So why hasn't he shown up?"
Seong Mohyeon was glancing nervously at his father and grandfather. The situation had veered far from their original plan—especially with the Alliance's chief strategist and Namgung clansmen present. He looked at a loss.
I gave them no more time to think.
"Seong Mohyeon! Your father and grandfather set this stage. Isn't it time you put the final punctuation on it?"
I drew my sword and said to Father,
"The sword's already drawn—your knees mean nothing now. Go down."
Jin Taesan lifted his head for the first time.
"......You confident you can endure?"
"I've already shown my resolve."
"Then don't shame yourself with a moment's pain."
Instead of replying, I glanced at Saryeon. She and Gang Chaeseok came up, supported the unable-to-walk Jin Taesan, and helped him down. At the same moment, Seong Mohyeon ascended from the opposite side.
"Must be disappointing—things not going as planned."
Seong Mohyeon's face was rigidly set.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You mean you moved without even knowing the adults' intentions? Guess it's true—Mirang outshines Hyeol Rang after all."
Seong Mohyeon's face flushed.
"Even if you beat me in this spar, you won't get what you want."
I scanned the onlookers.
"And if you lose or it ends in a draw, today's events will eternally shame the Iron Sword Sect."
I'd already planted seeds of doubt. Iron Sword Sect supporters would deny my words, but those who secretly despised them now had perfect ammunition to criticize.
"......Enough of your ridiculous nonsense."
Seong Mohyeon assumed his stance. True to the Iron Sword Sect's ferocity, he leaned aggressively forward, poised to lunge at any moment. No concessions for status or level—etiquette forgotten, this was a duel in name only, both sides radiating killing intent.
"Hah!"
Seong Mohyeon struck first. His four- ma-di-thick blade carried immense power, whipping up sharp sword winds with every swing.
Those who'd once blocked an Iron Sword Sect blade said it felt like parrying a massive iron mace with a thin sword. Tae-eul Gate's light, swift style couldn't hope to receive it.
This was what Gang Chaeseok and Father had feared most.
'But that's only at equal levels.'
The Socheon Sword Technique I'd pushed to the Twelve Stars in the Upright-Demonic War, moving as my heart desired. Circulating the internal energy bolstered by elixirs, power surged through my body.
Whoosh.Slash.
A chilling slice rang out. Seong Mohyeon's face paled as he brought his sword down.
"Hup!"
"D-did you see that?!"
Onlookers couldn't tear their eyes from the scrap of Seong Mohyeon's robe on the ground.
"What the...?"
Though the duel had begun, silence blanketed the training ground like not even an ant stirred.
I pressed Seong Mohyeon without pause, stepping forward in a mid-advance stance. The Socheon Sword Technique's first form, One Flash Severing Sword, flowed into the second, Two Cuts Sword.
Seong Mohyeon barely dodged, unable to mount a proper defense, yielding hilt and hem alike.
"Tae-eul Gate's dominating, right?"
"Total humiliation. They stirred all this up for this."
"Quiet. The sect lord doesn't look happy."
It was only natural this wouldn't play out like my previous life. I'd honed desperate real combat on the front lines against Demonic Cult minions, while Seong Mohyeon had lived coddled like a greenhouse flower, steeped in supplements and elixirs.
If his internal energy overwhelmed mine, he might've won—but mine was no slouch now.
"All those schemes, and this is the result? You won't be able to face your sect now."
"Shut up!"
Seong Mohyeon, widening the gap, abandoned Rock-Splitting Sword for Mountain-Cleaving Sword. The Iron Sword Sect's essence—overwhelming with Rock-Splitting proved superiority, but losing that way would've been worse than nothing. No choice.
'Is it right to end it like this?'
Even Mountain-Cleaving Sword couldn't beat me now. But defeating Seong Mohyeon here wouldn't fully thwart the Iron Sword Sect's schemes ahead.
I was just freakishly skilled from two lives—they'd learn that soon enough.
'They'll act even more shamelessly.'
Humiliated before the Alliance's chief strategist, they'd rampage with brazen impunity. I needed a decisive counter.
'I'll make sure the Iron Sword Sect can never raise its head again.'
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh. Winds exploded with each swing of Seong Mohyeon's blade, massive waves of energy rippling. The stone floor trembled with unnatural force.
I countered once more with Socheon Sword Technique against Mountain-Cleaving Sword.
Clang.Clang-clang.
My sword flicked off his like a needle off a spinning top. A smile finally crept onto Seong Mohyeon's lips.
"Getting it now? This is the difference in class!"
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh.Boom-boom-boom-boom!
His emboldened blade swept the ground, stone shards flying toward the spectators.
"Dodge!"
"Such power!"
"The Iron Sword Sect lives up to its name."
I deliberately held back my internal energy, avoiding his weak points to let my strikes glance off. Each block sent me retreating until I was cornered at the training ground's edge.
"It's over!"
As Seong Mohyeon swung down, I slipped into his guard, pressing my left palm to him and activating the Azure Dragon Ring.
"......!"
His sword clattered to the ground as if his strength had vanished.
"Hup!?"
Seong Mohyeon stared at me in disbelief.
"What, see a ghost or something?"