Divine Condor Hero (3)
The sudden appearance of Moyong Gwang.
Since Moyong Gwang had barely spoken a single word until now, the shock was even greater.
When Namgung Cheon-hwi faltered, Moyong Gwang spoke indifferently.
“That is merely the other side’s one-sided claim. There is no reason to let yourself be dragged along by such forced assertions, is there?”
Once he heard it, the words made sense.
Namgung Cheon-hwi realized he had lost his composure. Embarrassed, he said,
“My apologies. I’ve unnecessarily dragged all of you into this because of me.”
Moyong Gwang tapped his sword lightly as if the matter were of no importance.
“It’s fine. I was growing tired of the banquet anyway.”
To Moyong Gwang, sparring had always been preferable to idle socializing.
He strode confidently onto the stage.
Faced with an unexpected opponent, Geum Tae-myeong glared at Moyong Gwang with icy eyes.
From the very beginning, his target had been Namgung Cheon-hwi—the one hailed as the greatest among the younger generation.
If he could defeat Namgung Cheon-hwi, he could wipe away the humiliation of failing the Qimen Formation test in a single stroke.
Yet Moyong Gwang had barged in without warning.
Geum Tae-myeong ground his teeth.
Insolent fool!
Moyong Gwang was still relatively unknown in the martial world.
He might possess an impressive physique and raw strength, but his opponents had only been northern barbarians.
In Geum Tae-myeong’s eyes, fighting those savages held no value when compared to true sparring among warriors of the Central Plains.
How could one possibly equate the refined martial arts that Central Plains experts had honed over lifetimes with such barbaric brawling?
The Moyong Clan’s reputation seemed to him like nothing more than inflated falsehood.
No matter how strong his power is, it’ll just be crude, clumsy thug fighting.
Geum Tae-myeong had never cared for learning martial arts through theory or books alone.
He preferred endless real combat and countless duels to temper his skill.
He would rather swing his sword one more time than spend time in thought or meditation. He believed the insights gained from actual battle were the purest and most powerful form of strength.
When Moyong Gwang stepped forward, Geum Tae-myeong felt genuine displeasure.
The man seemed like nothing more than a trivial obstacle blocking his path to Namgung Cheon-hwi.
“My name is Moyong Gwang. I have learned the sword arts of the Moyong Clan.”
Moyong Gwang’s deep, resonant voice rang out.
Geum Tae-myeong barely listened to the greeting before replying curtly.
“Moyong Clan? Ah, that northern house that fights barbarians?”
It was an openly insulting remark. Geum Tae-myeong didn’t care in the slightest.
Moyong Gwang silently drew the massive sword he carried on his back.
Shiiing!
It was a heavy, dark-gleaming blade that looked enormously weighty. Geum Tae-myeong couldn’t suppress another sneer.
He thinks he can beat me with that slow, heavy chunk of metal?
The Taishan Sect’s sword technique was not flashy, but it was efficient and razor-sharp.
Drawing his own sword, Geum Tae-myeong slowly assumed his stance.
“I am Geum Tae-myeong of the Taishan Sect. I will use the Taishan Sword Technique.”
He intended to end this match quickly and move on to Namgung Cheon-hwi.
To him, Moyong Gwang was nothing more than a brief warm-up.
“Then let’s begin.”
Geum Tae-myeong settled into position.
Neither arrogance nor carelessness showed on his face—only the pure focus of a swordsman.
Though the Moyong Clan is no true opponent, there is no need to be careless.
Geum Tae-myeong was thorough.
He resolved to give his all from the very first move.
He needed to finish quickly and face his real target.
A tremendous aura erupted from Geum Tae-myeong’s body.
Woooong!
Heavy, intense energy surged from his sword.
It carried the crushing pressure of an entire mountain peak plummeting from the sky.
Thud!
“Gasp!”
The spectators cried out in awe at the sheer power and presence radiating from Geum Tae-myeong.
“As expected of the Taishan Sect’s sparring maniac!”
“The Moyong Clan doesn’t stand a chance, right?”
Even Namgung Cheon-hwi, Yeongho Jun, and Dang Mi-ju narrowed their eyes in surprise.
Everyone cautiously predicted Geum Tae-myeong’s victory.
Yet Moyong Gwang showed no sign of being intimidated by that overwhelming aura.
He began moving his sword with the relaxed ease of someone out for a casual stroll.
For a moment, the two simply stood facing each other.
The first to move was, naturally, Geum Tae-myeong.
His breathing grew thin and razor-sharp. Then he shot forward like a predator.
Thud!
Formless momentum spread in all directions.
A single step made the earth tremble.
The power exploding from his sword tip pressed down on every onlooker’s chest as if Mount Tai itself were collapsing.
As the blade sliced through the air, pebbles bounced across the ground and spectators’ robes fluttered wildly.
“……!”
Even Namgung Cheon-hwi, Yeongho Jun, and Dang Mi-ju narrowed their eyes.
Of course, Seomun Hwan simply rested his chin on his hand, looking thoroughly bored.
His strength is decent, but…
Moyong Gwang received all that weight and majesty head-on.
He neither lowered his stance nor raised his own aura.
He simply gripped the greatsword with both hands and took one slow step forward.
The next instant…
Kwaaaang!
A deafening crash rang out as shattered blade fragments danced in the air.
The result was obvious.
Power against power.
Tyranny against tyranny.
A one-sided victory in a contest of inner energy.
Contrary to everyone’s expectations, the sword that broke was Geum Tae-myeong’s.
The moment the greatsword cleaved the air, Geum Tae-myeong’s blade shattered like a plate.
More precisely, his sword energy itself had been torn apart.
Momentum, power, and rupture.
The overwhelming force pouring from Moyong Gwang’s greatsword shattered Geum Tae-myeong’s sword path and swallowed him whole.
Geum Tae-myeong’s body flew backward.
He spun once in the air before crashing to the ground.
Thud!
Once again, the entire area fell silent.
No one could utter a sound.
A single exchange.
That was all it took.
“……Ugh.”
Geum Tae-myeong’s eyes trembled faintly before he lost consciousness completely.
Moyong Gwang lightly shook off his greatsword, then turned away without a word.
He didn’t spare the fallen man even a single glance.
His steps remained heavy and deliberate, yet now they felt larger and more solid than Mount Tai itself to every onlooker.
Someone muttered very quietly.
“One strike. It was just one strike.”
As if those words were a signal, murmurs swept across the clearing.
“That easily? Did the Taishan Sect’s sparring maniac let his guard down?”
“Guard down? This is on a completely different level.”
An outcome no one had expected.
Yet only Seomun Hwan yawned as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Yaaawn. That idiot went and did something idiotic.”
Geum Tae-myeong’s sword technique had indeed been strong.
The power carried in his sword energy truly seemed capable of pulling down Mount Tai, and his momentum rivaled that of any great master.
But that was all.
His sword path was simplistic, and though he had momentum, the center was hollow.
An aggressive attack that relied entirely on imposing presence.
The first move might have been enough to overwhelm an ordinary opponent, but if the opponent could receive it?
There was nothing left to offer afterward.
That’s why it ended in one strike.
Theory and movement.
Understanding built in the mind, actions trained into the body.
The two could never be perfectly balanced.
When movement raced ahead, understanding failed to follow and the technique became an empty shell. When understanding led, the body could not manifest its depth and the technique remained an empty dream.
Training is ultimately the struggle to fill that imbalance. When one side rises, the other must be reinforced. Only then does it become true skill. Only then does it become a true realm.
Geum Tae-myeong had been a man who relied solely on his body.
He may have fought countless real battles, enough to earn the title of sparring maniac.
But had those experiences truly become his own?
Had he ever stopped even once to reflect on those movements and reconsider their meaning?
No. If he had, he wouldn’t be lying there like that now.
After failing the test through his own mistake, instead of reflecting he had blamed the test itself.
And today he had recklessly demanded another real fight.
In the end he repeated the same error, and the price returned with brutal honesty.
He thought himself the smartest person alive, yet in truth he was the greatest fool.
Geum Tae-myeong had not been strong.
He had only looked strong.
A gilded lion, not the real thing.
“But… where did that guy go?”
Jegal So-dam, who had been beside him only moments ago, had vanished.
Scanning the area, Seomun Hwan spotted a small shadow darting busily through the crowd.
It was Jegal So-dam.
He was carrying a small money pouch he had procured from somewhere, weaving through the spectators and exchanging something with them.
Some onlookers smiled awkwardly as they handed over coins. Others angrily waved him away.
“Ehet, just one or two coins per person as promised. Didn’t I say Geum Tae-myeong would lose? Who do you think I am? My eyes are never wrong.”
Jegal So-dam’s hand shot out like lightning, swiftly collecting coins and slipping them into his pouch.
Watching this, Seomun Hwan rubbed his forehead and slowly walked over.
“Just what exactly are you doing…?”
“Hut! Y-Young Master?! How long have you been standing there?”
Jegal So-dam quickly hid the pouch behind his back and laughed.
Seomun Hwan placed one hand on his waist and looked down at him.
“I suspected as much, but you actually set up a betting ring?”
“Well… it was only for a moment. A very brief moment. Some people watching asked who I thought would win, so I told them ‘Geum Tae-myeong will lose.’ Suddenly they all wanted to bet.”
“And you didn’t miss the opportunity?”
“Hehehe!”
Jegal So-dam scratched the back of his head and grinned.
Seomun Hwan let out a small sigh, then shrugged.
“No matter where you go, you really can’t shake that swindler nature of yours.”
“I earned it honestly! I didn’t deceive anyone, and my prediction was accurate!”
“Tsk!”
Seomun Hwan frowned.
“To use the Cheontongan—the Heavenly Eye that can see through the very fate of the heavens—for something so trivial…”
Seomun Hwan gazed intently at the unusually sparkling eyes behind the glasses.
Jegal So-dam flinched as if caught red-handed.
“Huh?!”
“You could easily distinguish the genuine article among countless counterfeits and separate braggarts from true masters. That strange pair of glasses must be something you wear because the ability cannot be controlled and needs to be suppressed.”
“I… that is… I don’t know what you’re…”
“Enough. Come here.”
“…Yes.”
The person most shocked by the outcome was Jongli Hyeok.
He stared at the collapsed Geum Tae-myeong with disbelief.
“…What is this?”
Geum Tae-myeong, still unconscious and breathing raggedly, no longer looked like the same man.
Just moments ago he had been swinging his sword with the force of a falling mountain.
Yet the result was utterly miserable.
One strike. A single strike had been enough.
This can’t be… how is that even possible…!
Every match of Geum Tae-myeong’s that Jongli Hyeok had witnessed until now had been overwhelmingly dominant.
Momentum, destructive power—none could stand against him.
A warrior who had accumulated real combat experience and trained the Taishan Sect’s external arts to their limit.
Jongli Hyeok had believed that even if Geum Tae-myeong couldn’t defeat Namgung Cheon-hwi, he could at least exhaust him.
Then the next step would have been…
Jongli Hyeok’s fingertips trembled on their own.
He quickly composed himself and spoke.
“Moyong Sohyeop’s skill… is truly admirable.”
The words felt as brittle as dry twigs the moment they left his mouth.
There’s no time for this.
Jongli Hyeok swiftly turned his gaze toward Namgung Cheon-hwi.
Before his entire plan collapsed, he had to play his remaining card.
“Namgung Sohyeop.”
He called quietly yet forcefully.
When all eyes turned to him, he took one step forward and began to speak.
Jongli Hyeok slowly steadied his breathing, then stepped closer to Namgung Cheon-hwi.
He politely cupped his fist and said,
“My purpose from the beginning has been simple. I wished to show that one cannot determine the true experts of the martial world with a single test like the Qimen Formation.”
His tone was unusually serious and humble. The spectators began nodding in agreement.
Jongli Hyeok continued.
“Although I failed to pass the Qimen Formation test, that was merely my own mistake and does not reflect my true ability. And since Namgung Sohyeop is a renowned figure among the younger generation, how about we take this opportunity to share the paths we have walked in the martial world?”
Even the listeners seemed persuaded by his clever wording.
There was no provocation or arrogance in his words—only justified pride and persuasiveness.
The spectators’ eyes gradually shifted toward the belief that a match between the two must take place.
At that moment, Seomun Hwan quietly asked Jegal So-dam,
“What do you think of those words?”
“What do I think? Obviously… it’s bullshit.”
“Pfft!”
Seomun Hwan laughed once, pleased with the answer, then continued.
“You’re right. On the surface he acts humble and sincere, but in truth he’s simply trying to cover up his own failure, defeat Namgung Cheon-hwi, and force everyone to acknowledge his skill.”
Jegal So-dam blinked and asked,
“Then shouldn’t we just shatter that lie? Point out his mistake clearly in front of everyone…”
Seomun Hwan smiled and shook his head.
“That would be too simple. Since Jongli Hyeok has set the board so perfectly, it would be a waste to just destroy it. When interest has gathered to this degree, we should use it instead.”
Jegal So-dam looked confused.
“Use it… how?”
Seomun Hwan smiled faintly and shrugged.
“Watch carefully. I’ll show you how to properly use the board.”
Namgung Cheon-hwi quietly stared at Jongli Hyeok.
It was difficult to ignore the surrounding gazes and expectations. Refusing now would damage the reputation of the Dragon-Phoenix Association as well.
Just as he swallowed a sigh and prepared to speak—
“Excuse me for a moment.”
A quiet yet resolute voice instantly silenced the murmurs.
All eyes turned toward the speaker at once.
It was Seomun Hwan.
He stepped forward casually, slowly scanned Jongli Hyeok and his group, then lightly curled the corner of his mouth.
“From the very beginning, this sparring has not been fair.”
Everyone looked puzzled.
Jongli Hyeok frowned slightly.
“Not fair…? Seomun Sohyeop, what do you mean by that?”
Seomun Hwan answered in an indifferent tone.
“It is clearly unfair. This side consists of the genuine younger-generation experts selected for the Dragon-Phoenix Association and recognized by the Murim Alliance, while that side is…”
He paused deliberately, then turned his gaze back to Jongli Hyeok’s group.
“People who failed the test and are nothing more than mediocre, aren’t they?”
The clearing fell silent.
Seomun Hwan’s words reached every ear present with perfect clarity.
The moment those words landed, the eyes of the crowd changed instantly.
“…What?”
“Failed the test? Mediocre?”
The group following Jongli Hyeok flushed red and flinched. Some spectators glanced around awkwardly.
Yet no one was more shaken than Jongli Hyeok himself.
“Seomun Sohyeop, isn’t that… an excessively insulting remark?”
Seomun Hwan slowly tilted his head.
“Is it? In my view, it’s a perfectly accurate description.”
“……!”
Seomun Hwan pressed on.
“The reason we are called the Dragon-Phoenix Association isn’t simply because the name sounds impressive. Only the younger-generation experts who have passed the Murim Alliance’s official gateway may bear this title. It is not mere glory—it represents the trust of the entire martial world.”
Here and there among the spectators, people began to nod.
Because those words were true.
“On the other hand…”
Seomun Hwan pointed at Jongli Hyeok’s party.
“If you fail the test, refuse to accept the result, and simply stand outside complaining… doesn’t that amount to nothing more than the tantrum of the unqualified?”
The faces of Jongli Hyeok’s group hardened one after another.
Most of them genuinely believed in their own skill, yet none could escape the label of “those who failed.”
“…Then are you saying you will disregard us?”
Jongli Hyeok asked in a low voice.
Seomun Hwan raised one eyebrow and smiled.
“I am not disregarding you. I am simply putting things in order. We are the ones who passed the test. You are the ones who did not. If you do not deny that fact, then it becomes clear what must be done to make this a fair spar, doesn’t it?”
While Jongli Hyeok looked flustered, Seomun Hwan pointed at himself.
“Since the Dragon-Phoenix side would obviously win in one-on-one matches, it would be fairer for this side to be at a disadvantage—by making it one versus many.”
As if offering a kind suggestion, Seomun Hwan gestured toward the entire opposing group and added,
“I will face you all alone, so come at me together.”
A brief silence fell.
Then the spectators in the clearing exploded into uproar.
“One versus many?”
“Is he insane…?”
“But… he does have a point, doesn’t he?”
Some burst into laughter while others simply stood speechless.
Amid the chaos, Jegal So-dam covered his mouth and muttered,
“Wow… he actually said it like that…”