Martial Arts Tournament (3)
Martial Arts Tournament (3)
"...Err, due to the opponent's failure to appear, this match will be a forfeit victory for Crimson Ring Sect Leader Docheol."
"What? That skillless bastard just has all the luck!"
"Show us a real fight! This is boring!"
I let the jeers in one ear and out the other. I tucked my axe back into my belt and turned away from the arena. It seemed the 'Purple Nether Sword' that Im Seo-ryeon had taken care of was the opponent scheduled to face me this round.
"Now, the next match will be...."
The announcer's voice rang out behind me.
With an expressionless face, I opened the waiting room door. The martial arts tournament I had imagined was something grand and spectacular, like the Tournament of the World's Greatest, but perhaps because this was a small-scale event with mostly third-rate to second-rate martial artists participating, everything was humbler than I expected.
Instead of a large square arena, we simply fought on a dirt floor. The arena was rudimentary at best, and the spectator area was marked off by nothing more than a simple line on the ground. The waiting room was a rented-out inn nearby, and food and drinks were provided to the competitors for free.
"Hmph, you got lucky. My next opponent is you. I'm going to smash that arrogant face of yours."
When I returned to the waiting room, another martial artist who was seated there started picking a fight with me. He was a warrior who used a crude saber and was clearly not from a prestigious sect. He seemed deeply resentful of the fact that I had snatched up a sect for free.
Of course, I had no reason to indulge him. I ignored his words, leaned back in my chair, and called the innkeeper's boy over.
"One plate of dumplings."
"Yes! One plate of dumplings! Right away!"
As the boy went inside the shop, the martial artist who had provoked me earlier scowled even more darkly. He frowned and said,
"It seems the Crimson Ring Sect's Sect Leader can't even afford to buy a single dumpling with money, so he comes here to mooch? Huh? Is that why you didn't bring your wife? Afraid she'd see you get beaten to a pulp?"
"My wife couldn't walk, so I couldn't bring her."
Leaving a woman who couldn't walk alone in a place teeming with thuggish third-rate and second-rate martial artists would be insane. Sannyeo hadn't followed me to avoid drawing attention, and Seon-go couldn't come for that very reason. So only my two escorts and I had come to the tournament.
"Ah, er... Hm...."
The man who had been provoking me with the intent to tear me apart clamped his mouth shut and averted his eyes. Another martial artist watching our conflict from the side sneered. I ignored the man and waited for my dumplings. He was just a guy I'd beat in the next match anyway. There was no need to get into a personal fight here.
******
"I wanted to see how the Crimson Ring Sect Leader fought. A pity."
As I stared blankly waiting for my dumplings, someone sat down across from me. I looked up, thinking it was another blatant provocation, but it was a young man with fine features, a hint of a smile on his face as he sat opposite me. Looking closer, his fundamentals were solid, and an unusual aura emanated from him.
"Ahem..."
"Oh dear...."
And the moment he sat across from me, the people who had been bothering me all scrambled to their feet as if on cue and vanished in a flurry. He was clearly a powerful expert I couldn't easily gauge at a glance, so I decided to be polite for now.
"Who might you be, great hero?"
"I am called Yeong-yu. But tell me, have you received teachings from Shaolin? I sense a familiar energy from you."
Since the cultivation method I learned was Shaolin's basic mental technique, that was only natural. Of course, I couldn't exactly say I learned it from the sex demon's secret manual, so I gave a suitably vague answer.
"I learned from a reclusive sage. Are you also affiliated with Shaolin?"
Yeong-yu tilted his head at my words, then smiled ambiguously and nodded.
"I am currently studying at Shaolin, but I am not a martial artist of Shaolin."
"A lay disciple, then?"
"No, I am quite literally enrolled at Shaolin to study. I find the Buddha's teachings truly beautiful—how one should live this life, how we should cope with the pains of reality that crash upon us."
He gestured subtly as he spoke, but I wasn't interested. I changed the subject before he could dig deeper into doctrine.
"You've come a long way from studying at Shaolin. I wouldn't have thought my name had spread so far."
Yeong-yu smiled and lowered his voice.
"I heard about you while amusing myself in a nearby brothel. They say you snatched up a sect that Venerable Geumbok was running, causing quite a stir around here. And when I heard that such a person was participating in a martial arts tournament, how could I not be curious enough to come and see?"
I blinked and asked back,
"Is it allowed for someone studying at Shaolin to play around in a brothel? I thought Shaolin pursued things like abstinence?"
"You also learned martial arts from Shaolin, yet you seem to have no connection to abstinence either."
I conjured an image book of my master in my imagination and said,
"He was an apostate monk. Even while living in the mountains, he had a belly like Namsan Mountain and was always steeped in alcohol. He never gave me that kind of teaching. But aren't you, great hero, interested in the teachings of the Buddha? Is that why you're staying there?"
Yeong-yu blinked. Without losing his smile, he said,
"Shakyamuni was a prince of India, was he not? They say he possessed beautiful women and all the wealth of the world."
I had heard that story before. Shakyamuni had once been a very prominent prince, but he felt the futility of life and renounced the world. Yeong-yu continued.
"But one day, it is said he felt the futility of life and renounced the world to gain enlightenment. When I first vaguely wondered how one might truly approach the truth, I gained my realization right there."
"What realization?"
"First, let's play around like Shakyamuni did."
"...."
He probably didn't go around saying that sort of thing at Shaolin Temple itself, did he?
Shaolin was apparently a more tolerant place than I thought. Or maybe this fellow Yeong-yu's family was so enormously wealthy that they had poured in donations. Yeong-yu saw the speechless look on my face and continued with the most natural air.
"If you play and live so enjoyably like that, isn't it possible that someday you'll realize how truly pointless everything in this world is?"
He was a truly strange person. I played along with him appropriately.
"I'd like nothing more than to have my fill of playing around like that, too."
The innkeeper's boy approached, carrying my dumplings. The boy glanced furtively at the newcomer who had joined me, stepping cautiously like a cat. Seeing the boy, Yeong-yu rose from his seat and said,
"I must be off now. I look forward to your match."
"Thank you for your encouragement, great hero."
The plate was set before me. Steam was curling up from the dumplings. Through the hazy steam, Yeong-yu's figure shimmered like a heat haze. He said,
"I wish you luck."
Being cheered on is a nice feeling. But when the person doing it was an expert I couldn't even begin to fathom, a sense of unease was bound to ring louder.
"I don't know, fuck."
But if I worried deeply about things beyond my control, nothing good would come of it—except maybe a heart demon. I decided to forget about Yeong-yu and just eat my dumplings.
"Oh."
The dumplings I hadn't eaten in a while were delicious.
******
"The next match! Crimson Ring Sect Leader Docheol versus the Black Blade Sect's head disciple! Seok-du!"
"Seok-du! I bet on you!"
"Waaaaaaaaah!"
The crowd was going wild. The bastard who had picked a fight with me at the inn strode out confidently, hefting his saber. With the blade resting on his shoulder, he stared at me with a mocking gaze and said,
"What a shame. Your posturing as the sect leader of that pathetic sect ends here."
"Are you just jealous because you couldn't do it?"
At my question, Seok-du's face flushed red. He coughed awkwardly and pretended it was nothing.
"Hmph, a pathetic provocation."
I let my axe hang low and said,
"That saber you're holding looks rather small. I've heard the martial artists of the Hebei Peng Family carry sabers as tall as they are. Is your saber small because your ambition is small? Or is it because your skill is lacking?"
"Shut your mouth!"
With that shout, Seok-du swung his saber through the air and charged at me. The momentum of his blade was quite impressive, and he seemed adept at channeling his inner energy. But judging by his aura, he had not quite reached the second-rate level.
Since he had assumed an attacking stance, I lowered my posture and sought an opening to counterattack.
Could I see his attack coming?
"Hryaaaaaaah!"
But then, something very strange happened. He was clearly attacking with ferocious momentum, but to my eyes, Seok-du's movements appeared incredibly sluggish. The way he flailed his arms as if he was fooling around, and the vast, gaping openings in his defense, were all too plainly visible.
I easily dodged his strike by stepping back a single pace, then adjusted my grip on the axe and aimed at his side with a stance from the Mount Tai Axe Technique.
Ppaak!
"Guwaaaaaaak!"
Before he could even notice the opening, the axe struck him squarely. Clutching his side, Seok-du screamed, fell to his knees, and even dropped his saber.
"Uh...."
A moment neither the announcer nor the spectators had expected.
I, too, stared at Seok-du with a dumbfounded expression, while Seok-du simply bit his lip and glared at me.
"Ho, Crimson Ring Sect Leader Docheol wins!"
Maybe...
I was stronger than I thought?