20. The Two Most Vicious (3)
Within the haze of his fading consciousness, Namgung Cheon reached back into the past.
"You wish to learn the Lightning Sword instead of the Changgung spear arts? Hmm... very well. If that is your choice, I shall respect it. In the end, all roads of the Namgung sword lead to one."
The memory of the first time he had ever gripped a sword.
"You are the shame of the Namgung Clan! Out of consideration for the affection we once shared, I will not destroy your dantian — but never again shall you be called a Namgung!"
The despair he had felt when his own family cast him out.
"...What? Namgung? Why would the young lord of one of the Five Great Clans come drifting all the way out to this backwater? Were you perhaps a half-wit they threw away?"
With no place left for him anywhere in the Central Murim, he had drifted to the Outer Lands out of sheer necessity.
"KYAAAAAK!! A mad sword demon! The Sword Demon has appeared!"
It was there that he began the life of a street vagrant — the very existence he had so despised — and in the end, he became their king.
"Ha... that vermin Baek Woohyeok became squad leader of some rabble called the Black Tiger Squad? So he managed to make something of himself, did he."
Even while wandering the Outer Lands, Namgung Cheon had kept a steady ear on the Central Plains through informants within the Alliance.
"The Heavenly Dragon Sword Hero, Danmok Jin... I lost everything because of that man, yet I cannot deny that he is truly extraordinary."
At some point, Namgung Cheon had stopped being shaken by talk of Danmok Jin. Living in the Outer Lands, the inferiority and rage he harbored toward the man had burned down to embers.
"...Danmok Jin is an otherworlder from a different world? And the true protagonist of the Central Murim was me?"
That was how things stood — right up until he learned the shocking truth about this world and about Danmok Jin, through means he could never have imagined.
"Hahahaha...! Everyone was deceived by that wretched bastard! But I shall not forgive even them. Because you all were deceived by him, I lost everything I had!"
And so the Wandering King of the Outer Lands returned to the Central Plains as the Tyrant Evil Sword Demon.
He gathered all those who resented Danmok Jin and his followers for dominating the Murim after the Great Righteous-Demonic War. Together with them, he founded a secret organization called the Hoicheon Society, and the first blood it spilled was the annihilation of the Namgung Clan itself.
Then he challenged the treacherous usurper known as the Martial God.
"KAAAAGH!!"
A mere Hwa-kyeong master was a wall that vengeance alone could never surmount.
"Hmm... it pains me to see you fallen this far, when you were meant to be the protagonist all along. I will spare your life. Spend what remains of it living quietly."
Through his enemy's mercy, he had survived — clinging to a miserable existence.
"Hwa-kyeong! Hwa-kyeong! Damned Hwa-kyeong!"
It was wretched. It was unjust.
"I, too, was one who should have stood in Hwa-kyeong! The treacherous usurper stole everything from me — but one last chance still remains. I will return to the past and reclaim everything that was rightfully mine!"
And so he had turned back time.
The Flash-Thunder Thirteen Lightning Swords and the Heavenly Thunder Emperor Divine Art. If he recovered the martial arts he had honed his entire life along with the fortunes that had once been his own, he believed that this time — this time — he would finally reach Hwa-kyeong.
"The Flash-Thunder Thirteen Lightning Swords is, of course, a magnificent art... with enough effort, it could carry you to the very edge of that wall. But crossing it? Nearly impossible. Even if you are a demon now, your roots are still Namgung. And what the Namgung sword strives toward, its final completion, is the Emperor Sword Form..."
But that faith had been nothing more than a mirage.
"Ah."
The surging emptiness and rage sharpened his mind into perfect clarity. With a short groan, Namgung Cheon opened his eyes.
"Damn it... my body is in ruins."
In the roughly two months between his successful regression and his entry into Cheonryong Academy, he had moved without rest, hunting down fortunes and opportunities. The Yaozang Pill left behind by a legendary divine physician had been remarkably potent — yet even it had failed to heal his internal injuries completely. But right now, those injuries mattered less than the mental shock of his defeat at Baek Woohyeok's hands, and of the words that man had left behind.
'...Am I truly unable to surpass those men again? Was my regression meaningless?'
Namgung Cheon's gaze drifted slowly toward the sword hilt clutched in his hand. Even as his mind had dissolved into chaos, he had never once let go of it.
"Whew..."
The blade had shattered beyond recognition, but the blue sword tassel — a privilege reserved solely for the direct bloodline of the Namgung Clan — remained untouched.
'That's right. I am Namgung.'
He was still Namgung Cheon of the Namgung Clan. Not the clan's traitor, the Tyrant Evil Sword Demon — but the pride of Namgung, the One Sword Lightning, Namgung Cheon.
'The Namgung sword can only be completed through the Emperor Sword Form, can it? Fine... then I will master the Emperor Sword Form and reach Hwa-kyeong. And when that day comes, it will be the day I break Baek Woohyeok... and that man, Danmok Jin.'
Namgung Cheon's eyes blazed with feverish fire. He had turned back too much time to stand frozen in despair here.
His gaze, brimming with twisted ambition, lifted toward the sky. At some point, the morning sun had begun to rise.
"Damn it all."
The midterm exams were not over yet.
If the first and second days of the midterm had been devoted to the written exams, then from the third day onward came the practical tests — the true flower of the examination.
The Hwang and Hyeon classes — in other words, the lower-ranked cadets who had spent their time mastering the foundational arts of Cheonryong Academy — would be sitting for those exams around now.
'The test where you demonstrate the Cheonryong Sword Art and the Cheonryong Sword Formation had brutally strict grading standards. An absolute nightmare.'
That had been my own experience back before I regressed, when I was an Hwang-class cadet, so I could be fairly certain of it. No matter how much the flow of events had shifted since my regression, some things simply refuse to change.
So what, then, were the upper-ranked cadets — the Ji and Cheon classes — being tested on?
"Chaah!"
"A fine move! Then allow me to answer in kind!"
What else could it be?
Combat bouts.
'It's obvious, but nothing judges a cadet's caliber quite like a bout.'
It wasn't as though they could hold death matches the way the Demon Cult's academy — that Cheonma Hall — did, after all.
KWAAAAANG!!
The broadsword of Paeng Muhan, sole legitimate heir of the Hebei Paeng Clan, slammed deep into the floor of the training arena.
"HAHAHAHA!!"
Booming with hearty laughter, the large-framed swordsman extended one thick hand toward the cadet sprawled on the ground.
"A fine bout. The fists of the Eon Clan's young master of Jinju have a wonderfully refreshing bite to them."
"Spoken like a true gentleman, though I couldn't manage to leave so much as a scratch on you, Young Lord Paeng."
"Nonsense. Your final strike gave me a genuine chill. Besides, your clan's arts were never suited for bouts in the first place."
"The same could be said of the Sichuan Dang Clan, I suppose..."
Just as the Cheon-class cadet from the Eon Clan of Jinju had said, among the martial arts of the orthodox sects, the one least suited for friendly bouts was, without question, the arts of the Sichuan Dang Clan.
SWOOOOSH!!
"Kkeok!"
Yet even so, Dang Ryun — the youngest son of the Sichuan Dang Clan — claimed victory in his bout without incident.
"I blunted the edges of my hidden blades, so you'll have nothing worse than bruises. Well fought."
"Thank you for your consideration..."
Spinning his willow-leaf throwing daggers deftly between fingers clad in green poison-proof gauntlets, Dang Ryun descended from the arena with the ease of a man on an afternoon stroll.
'So these really are the future heroes, huh.'
Back before my regression, during my own days as a freshman cadet, I'd had no ties with them and knew little about them — but destined sprouts, it seemed, showed their exceptional nature from the very beginning.
Then again, remembering how these same young men had gawked and fussed like lunatics the first time they laid eyes on me, I could only find the whole thing laughable.
"Next! Baek Woohyeok! And his opponent is..."
And how did my bout go, you ask?
"Kkuhk...!"
It ended in an instant. I extended a single strike wrapped in fist qi, my opponent collapsed, and that was all there was to it.
"Hah. Woohyeok. I trust you understand perfectly that you are not to use fist qi in the final exam?"
Supervisor Hwangbo San let out a long sigh as he said it.
"I understand."
I nodded.
'When a Peak-stage master starts swinging sword qi or fist qi around, no number of low-tier cadets stands a chance of handling it — of course they'd ban it.'
Real demonic cultists certainly wouldn't care about the circumstances of low-rank fighters, but an exam was still an exam. From the Academy's perspective, the restriction was only natural.
I turned my gaze toward the arena where Namgung Cheon — the other Peak-stage master grouped with me — was fighting his bout.
--CHAAAENG!!
Namgung Cheon had arrived at the testing grounds just barely before his exam began.
--CHAAAENG!!
He overwhelmed his opponent not with sword qi, but with pure sword technique.
--CHAAAENG!!
The first sword of the Flash-Thunder Thirteen Lightning Swords shot outward like a bolt of lightning.
"Kkuuuhhk..."
His opponent, who had somehow managed to deflect the earlier exchanges, soon let out a groan —
--CLANG!
— and dropped the sword from his hand.
Namgung Cheon's victory, as expected.
"Young Lord Namgung... thank you for the lesson."
The defeated cadet bowed his head toward Namgung Cheon's pale face. He must have believed the man had granted him instruction through nothing but pure swordsmanship.
'Like hell he did.'
The reason that bastard wasn't drawing out his sword qi had nothing whatsoever to do with teaching anyone anything.
'Looks like even the Yaozang Pill couldn't fully heal his internal injuries.'
He wasn't choosing not to use sword qi — he simply couldn't. The wounds he'd taken fighting me still hadn't fully mended.
"...Your lower guard was your weakness. Guard it better."
Well, from his point of view this was a golden opportunity to leave a good impression on the other cadets, so perhaps it worked out nicely for him.
And so the practical exam held on the third day of the midterms came to an end. All that remained was the final test.
"Woohyeok! I'm heading out early today. We have a meeting — a strategy session on how to take down you and Young Lord Namgung."
And so Jegal Hui, who would be facing me in the final exam, departed, declaring it a meeting.
"Hmm..."
My eyes met Namgung Cheon's.
"Tsk."
This time, it was I who clicked my tongue first.
"Shall we hold our own little meeting, then?"
The edge of the forest where we had clashed yesterday. Namgung Cheon and I made our way back there once more.
"...So what exactly is this meeting supposed to be about?"
Yesterday he had made a point of oozing displeasure at everything I said, but today he seemed willing enough to cooperate.
'See? Establishing the hierarchy really does matter.'
Nodding with a satisfied smile at the sight, I opened my mouth to begin our strategy session for the final exam — and then stopped.
"...Huh. There's actually nothing to discuss?"
There really wasn't a single thing to say.
"What did you say?"
Namgung Cheon's face was the picture of incredulity.
But if you thought about it, it was obvious.
"I mean, think about it. Even without sword qi, are we really going to lose to the other cadets? We're the only two Peak-stage masters here."
And on top of that —
"Us? Against greenhouse flowers with zero real combat experience?"
There was no chance of it. Not one.
"..."
Perhaps convinced by my logic, Namgung Cheon said nothing. No — judging by the slight crease between his brows, something about it seemed to be bothering him.
"I don't know what you're fretting over, but there's no need for major concern. Their side will have gathered for a meeting too, but they'll be completely lost. I guarantee it."
Danmok Jin had indeed secretly observed yesterday's fight — but if anything, that made his position even more hopeless.
'He would have sealed his presence the instant he sensed mine, so he won't have heard a word of what was said. But watching with his own two eyes alone would have been more than enough to grasp exactly how strong the two of us really are.'
Despite my confident declaration, Namgung Cheon still wore a dissatisfied expression.
"...Then what, pray tell, was the point of yesterday's fight?"
Ah.
"Th-that was... just blowing off steam."
Hadn't I told him that already?
"You absolute lunatic."
bathed in Namgung Cheon's contempt-filled curse, I found I had no rebuttal to offer this time.
A gathering of the freshman representatives of every class — the Cheon, Ji, Hyeon, and Hwang — with the sole exceptions of Baek Woohyeok and Namgung Cheon.
Danmok Jin, regarded in all but name as the leader of the group, opened his mouth with a grave expression.
"I'll be honest with you all. As things stand, defeating Namgung Cheon and Baek Woohyeok is impossible. Absolutely impossible."
A chill silence settled over the meeting.