The Black Flame Dragon Toying with the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly (3)
“Senior Brother!”
“Senior Brother!”
“Big Brother!”
“Oppa!”
The disciples suddenly swarmed over, but I was too out of breath to respond. The return trip with Moyong Gang had been a nightmare. That damn old man kept whining and throwing tantrums left and right, constantly ordering me around. Suddenly craving meat. Demanding a demonstration of my footwork. Asking when I started learning martial arts. Wondering if I'd stumbled upon some heavenly opportunity or another. The barrage of trivial questions had nearly driven me insane. I'd even seriously pondered whether to counter with Fengbai Sword Breaker or play the herb gatherer if he got smacked during one of his antics.
Still, I'd coaxed and placated him just enough to make it back on time—or so I thought. Then, passing through Hebi, I heard the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly had already set out that morning. My vision went red, and I ditched the old man(?) to sprint here.
“Oppa, here—water, water, drink this.”
I gulped down the water Wang Soso offered without even a word of thanks.
“Hoo……”
Finally catching my breath, Jin Taesan asked, “What’s going on? Suddenly…… what the hell……”
“Father.”
“……Huh?”
“An old man and his grandson will arrive shortly. Treat them like honored guests.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t dismiss them as some foul-tempered nobody. Don’t look down on them just because they seem like herb gatherers. Those Dragon-Phoenix Assembly bastards…… no, treat them as if the Murim Alliance Leader himself has come.”
“What the…… you little punk!”
I ignored my father’s response and strode into the grand courtyard to bow before the sect leader.
“I’m late, Sect Leader.”
“So you are. Did everything go well?”
“Yes. My apologies—I had no idea guests were here and arrived so late.”
“You’re here now. That’s enough.”
The Dragon-Phoenix Assembly’s gazes weren’t friendly. Their stares pinned me like I was the uninvited intruder.
I didn’t care. My eyes were fixed on one spot alone.
You haven’t changed a bit.
Unlike the hostile or mischievous glares from the Dragon-Phoenix group, she alone fidgeted anxiously amid the tension. She was the same in my past life and this one.
“Junior, it’s good to pay respects, but now’s not the time, is it?” said Jong Byeok-gi, who’d been standing behind Hwa Jung-san.
“What do you mean?”
“Hah! We adults are discussing important matters. Is that how Tae-eul Gate teaches you?”
Quoting Tae-eul Gate’s teachings back at a Tae-eul Gate disciple—how arrogant did you have to be to say it with such shameless gall?
“Senior Jong, if Jeomchang’s Misfortune Wind stoops to flattering egos, the world will laugh.”
“What!”
“!”
“!”
The Dragon-Phoenix members gaped at my words. Jong Byeok-gi, taking it as an insult, gripped his sword hilt to draw—only stopped by Il Myeong’s hand. Realizing his own impulse, Jong’s face twisted in shock.
Il Myeong said calmly, “Young hero, this isn’t your place.”
“I’m Tae-eul Gate’s senior disciple, Jin Sowoon. I know it’s rude, but I’m butting in.”
“If you know it’s rude, why do it?”
“The ancient sages said to meet even rudeness with courtesy, but I’m too narrow-minded to reach that level yet.”
“……”
His jab at Hwa Jung-san’s attitude hardened Il Myeong’s face.
“Requesting a spar with the sect leader—father to the sect—shows too vast a gap in seniority with Senior Hwa. And a one-sided challenge without prior rapport? That’s no etiquette. Senior Hwa surely knows this, so isn’t it an insult to all of Tae-eul Gate?”
Hwa Jung-san’s face—and everyone else’s—grew rigid.
“But you came from afar, so desperate to taste Tae-eul Sword Emperor’s sword forms. I’ll stand in his stead.”
“……Can a greenhorn like you even handle my sword?”
I snorted.
“It’s just a light spar. Sharing forms and learning—why does skill matter?”
Grinding his teeth at me, Hwa Jung-san suddenly turned to Hong Moon-gi. “Sect Leader, if I crush this kid and all the disciples you want, will you grant me instruction then?”
He spoke as if he’d dismantle the entire sect. Tae-eul Gate’s fury mounted at his brazenness, but he paid it no mind.
“……Very well.”
Hong Moon-gi nodded gravely. As Hwa Jung-san and I moved to the training ground, everyone shifted to watch.
“You’re really using live blades?”
“Scared now?”
“No need to risk lives in a spar, right?”
“I’ll tell you this: true skill emerges when your life hangs by a thread.”
Those words were etched in my memory. In my past life, as Gye Cheolyeong’s errand boy, he’d beaten me near death under the guise of sparring practice while saying it. Recalling that, a smile tugged at my lips.
“Understood.”
I drew the Black Dragon Sword on the training ground. Its all-black blade and hilt drew a glint to Hwa Jung-san’s eyes.
“A fine sword won’t replace skill.”
“It’s not to replace skill. The right sword simply found its way to my hand.”
“All talk. Fitting heir to the Tae-eul Sword Emperor.”
Obvious mockery, but it didn’t sting.
“Thank you.”
“……I’ll yield three moves.”
“You sure?”
“Hmph. Your one chance.”
“Got it.”
I glanced at my palm, callused hard from endless training in this life. In the past, eczema never left my hands from scrubbing Hwa Jung-san’s socks and undergarments.
I gritted my teeth at the memory.
“Then, first up: Socheon Sword Technique.”
#
“The kid’s exhausted.”
Moyong Jaehwa stuck out his tongue at Moyong Gang’s words.
“That’s all because of you, Grandpa. Why’d you drag us into hunting boars mid-trip?”
“You brat! Can’t live on veggies alone—gotta have meat sometimes.”
“We could use lightness skill and get there faster.”
“And blow our cover?”
Moyong Gang’s retort tested Jaehwa’s patience again. If he weren’t his grandfather—no, if he weren’t the Fengbai Sword Breaker, absolute pinnacle of the jianghu, Jaehwa might’ve harbored irreverent thoughts.
This was a crucial time for Moyong Jaehwa. He’d never cared for the Moyong sword or the Murim Academy exam, but his father had gone hunting a fire fox’s inner core for his sake. Jaehwa trusted his father wouldn’t face real peril—short of his grandfather’s level—but then came the disappearance. The household panicked, on the brink of losing its young lord.
Grandfather mobilized Moyong warriors for the search, and Jaehwa followed. Mercifully, Father returned after a month. The messenger bird’s note said he’d been saved by a certain Tae-eul Gate hero, Jin Sowoon.
Thanking the heavens, Jaehwa resolved to ace the exam and headed home—only for Grandfather, oddly offended, to rant.
“What a disgrace. Moyong young lord gets ambushed?”
Instead of returning, the old man launched his eccentricity. Ignoring it wasn’t an option; he sealed Jaehwa’s dantian and meridians, forcing him along.
“I need to prepare for the academy exam, Grandfather!”
“This experience trumps any exam!”
Thus began the farce: no Moyong robes, face-obscuring mask, disguised as herb gatherer and grandson.
The jianghu journey was endless trials for Jaehwa.
“Hey, bro’s broke and starving—fork over your pouch.”
Basic thugs with swords rifled his pockets.
“You hit someone? Apologize!”
“It was just a shoulder bump!”
Beaten black-and-blue for “brushing shoulders.”
“We need to eat—move.”
Chased from half-eaten meals.
Even with his frail body, Moyong arts should’ve protected him. Without qi, he endured the brutal life of a powerless commoner.
Was this the harsh reality of the weak? Pondering his misery led to epiphany.
Ah! Grandfather meant for me to learn this. Know weakness to pursue strength!
His neglect of swordsmanship likely prompted this. Vowing deeper dedication, he told Grandfather.
“Huh? What nonsense? Enlightenment? Teaching?”
“……??”
Moyong Gang tilted his head cluelessly and continued the farce.
Desperate to avoid beatings, Jaehwa averted his eyes from filth: lecherous thugs harassing women, bullies tormenting roadside vendors.
But whenever he ignored it, Grandfather stepped in.
“A man born with balls, and all you do is harass? Your mother must’ve wept without even broth after birthing you.”
“……??”
“A swordsman who loses the Way becomes street trash. Looking at you lot, your master was probably a gutter pickpocket.”
“……!!!”
His tongue was vicious, fitting the “Mad Sword” moniker. Thugs and swordsmen, eyes bulging at the insults, raised fists and blades—only for Moyong Gang to cower behind Jaehwa.
“I-I’m just an old stranger.”
“Too similar to pass as unrelated!”
Ah, the matching masks for grandfather-grandson roles.
Thus, curses from Grandpa, beatings for grandson became routine. Post-beating, the old man struggled not to grin in Jaehwa’s sight.
By now, Jaehwa’s mindset twisted. The old man dodging blows while playing frail elder shifted from annoying to hateful.
“Why hit me? He’s the one who insulted you—my grandfather!!”
“……”
A thug with a dragon-or-snake tattoo on his arm paused, glancing between them.
“I may tread the black path, but selling out my own grandfather? Unforgivable scum! Today’s your funeral.”
Beaten unconscious, Jaehwa could no longer resist thugs or jianghu folk. “No business before a beating”—righteous fury died in his throat.
“Tsk tsk. A man silenced by a few punches?”
“……”
Grandfather’s taunts fueled Jaehwa’s rage and injustice.
“Where the hell are we going?! I’m heading back!”
“Oh? Heard the Tae-eul kid saved your dad—thought to give thanks. Go if you must. It’s your sire’s fault for raising an ungrateful wretch who forgets gratitude.”
“……”
Jaehwa clamped his mouth and followed, praying for no more trouble.
But en route to Tae-eul Gate, bandits struck. As “man-balls……” and “lousy in bed……” flew, a savior descended.
“I’m Jin Sowoon of Tae-eul Gate.”
The very hero who saved Father. Jaehwa nearly greeted him warmly, but Grandfather forbade it.
He saved Father. This would be rude.
Stay put.
Moyong honor’s at stake.
Tch! Stay still?!
Worried Jin might snap at the rudeness, Jaehwa was stunned. Even knowing it was Moyong Gang, Jin endured the barbs with grace beyond imagination. This must be a true magnate’s bearing, Jaehwa thought.
“Jin hero’s rushing like that—trouble at his sect?”
“What trouble?”
“Sect crisis maybe.”
“Didn’t he say it’s because of the Dragon-Phoenix visit?”
“Why’s that so urgent?”
“They’re auditors usually, but sometimes test the 108 Peaks with rude ‘inspections.’”
“What? Explain.”
“Each sect pours all into their reps. If those elites rampage through lesser sects like the 108’s underlings—what happens?”
Jaehwa’s face soured.
“They do that?”
“Don’t idolize the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly.”
“I don’t. Anyway, we can’t dawdle—if something’s up at Tae-eul Gate……”
“No. Unseal my points, Grandfather.”
“Tsk. Still blind? Didn’t you see his lightness skill?”
“……”
Impressively fast, sure—but so what? Speed-focused steps weren’t rare.
“Tsk tsk. No eye for it.”
“What?”
“Couldn’t even spot it against those bandits?”
“……Yes.”
“Pathetic for the academy exam. You’ll face monsters like Jin Sowoon.”
“Monsters?”
“A kid under twenty carrying a century’s weight? That’s a monster.”
“What’re you……”
“Quiet!”
More questions burned, but Jaehwa silenced as the old man resumed herb-gatherer act. Interrupting meant disaster.
Entering Tae-eul Gate, a burly man approached briskly. Jaehwa froze at any scary face now, self-loathing at his pathetic state.
The man rasped, “With Jin Sowoon……?”
“Oh…… yes.”
“He mentioned you. Come in.”
“No need for villagers like us. Watching from afar’s plenty.”
“Nonsense. Tae-eul Gate treats guests properly. This way.”
First warm welcome as a “herb gatherer”—something welled in Jaehwa’s chest.
“Um…… sir, how do you know Jin hero……?”
Awkward smile at the familiar face. “His dad, Jin Taesan, Outer Hall Lord.”
Proper salute overwhelmed Jaehwa.
In the courtyard, Jin Sowoon faced the Dragon-Phoenix group. Jaehwa spotted Moyong Seol but couldn’t acknowledge her.
“Other guests here, so inside……”
Jin Taesan led them, but Jaehwa interjected. “No—can we watch from here? Lived in mountains forever; never seen such a spectacle.”
Farce habits slipped out. Grandfather nodded pleased—infuriatingly.
“Er…… fine, but stay back. Spar ripples.”
“Of course.”
Hwa Jung-san and Jin Sowoon readied for spar, context unknown.
“Heh, warming to the wanderlust? Lines flow naturally.”
“No!” Jaehwa snapped unwittingly.
“Watch close. Came here to show you this.”
“What……”
“Academy exam’s full of kids like him.”
“……”
Jaehwa tilted his head. Grandfather never praised young swordsmen—let alone a non-Tae-eul disciple.
I’ll see in the spar.
Rooting for Jin, Jaehwa focused.
#
The first exchange was utterly ordinary. Jin’s sword targeted vitals, but to Hwa Jung-san’s caliber, it stirred nothing.
“Cha!”
Second clash. Varied attack, but lacked edge—too slow for swift, too light for heavy.
“That all you got?”
Hwa’s ire rose.
“Didn’t you crave Tae-eul Sword Emperor’s skill?”
“If that legend amounted to this, the rumors are hot air.”
“Mocking Tae-eul Sword Emperor at Tae-eul Gate? Don’t value your life?”
Third clash. Hisss. Provoked, the blade sliced air sharply toward vitals.
But to one who’d parried Haemnam swift styles, this wasn’t swift.
“Neither swift nor heavy—what is this sword art?”
“Holds Tae-eul Sword Emperor’s profound will. Basic art: Socheon Sword Technique.”
“Is it? Too bad—you’ve used all three.”
“Now it starts.”
“Hmph!”
Yielding three was to draw out ten. Ending short would bore.
“Knew it was this—wouldn’t need ten moves.”
Not even one? Hwa unleashed Plum Blossom Sword Technique.
Plum scent filled the ground. Its signature unmistakable, gasps arose.
“Th…… that’s Plum Blossom.”
“Actual plum fragrance?”
Sword-qi plum blossoms drifted ethereally. Beautiful, yet each a lethal vital strike.
“Over.”
Hwa sought no death or maiming—but internal wounds to humble the arrogant junior.
But.
“Huh……?”
Eyes mesmerized by blossoms gleamed. Following gazes, Hwa paled in horror.
Papapapapap!
Jin seemed to swing once—yet a dozen sword images manifested, annihilating the blossoms.
Astounded by the unseen art, Hwa blurted, “What……”
“This is Great Heaven Sword Method.”
“What……!!”
His eyes bulged.
“You threw the first three?”
Absurd. Huashan disciple versus Tae-eul—no, full power from the start, yet threw three?
Jin just smiled leisurely.
“You’re insane.”
“Worried for me? When the dust vanished in an instant.”
“Dust……?”
“Tae-eul Sword Emperor” mocked Tae-eul; “dust” mocked Huashan—when sword-qi failed to form blossoms.
No one uttered it aloud. Tangible qi-blossoms were master strokes; speakers died.
“These floating flecks.”
“……Hah!”
Jin’s nonchalance snapped Hwa’s reason.
“I’d go easy…… but you changed that.”
“……”
“Regret your loose tongue forever.”
Hwa’s eyes turned violet; robes strained against swelling power.
Someone whispered, “Purple Radiance Divine Art……”
Huashan’s secret, for true disciples only, activated.
“Clean the dust properly.”
The vast ground darkened as sky-obscuring blossoms bloomed.
“……Huashan’s plum blossoms.”
“……But if Senior Jin takes this……”
“No!!”
Mocking the screams, blossoms rained murderously on Jin Sowoon.