The Extreme Sword Dragon (2)
Yes. I remember you, Lord Ghost Dragon. Is it really you?
Unlike our last meeting, he was standing this time, so he seemed a full head taller. Still, the distinctive way he spoke and the renowned sword hanging at his waist made it unmistakable. This was none other than Ghost Dragon Dokgo Mujin.
He removed his straw hat. For the first time, I saw his brown hair properly. Grinning widely, he spoke.
"It's me."
As he did, he offered his hand first. I took it and greeted him ahead of his words.
"It's good to see you."
Dokgo Mujin gripped my hand firmly in return and offered his own warm greeting.
"I'm truly glad to meet you as well."
We shook for a moment before releasing each other's hands. He must have found holding the hat bothersome, because he put it back on and asked me,
"It's been a full year. How have you been?"
How had I been? I paused to think. No matter how I reflected on it, I hadn't done anything particularly noteworthy in the past year, so I simply told him the truth.
"For me, the story somehow spread on its own in an interesting way. I stayed at the Namgung Clan for a while and devoted myself entirely to training. That's all there is to it."
It sounded plain and half-hearted even to my own ears. But Dokgo Mujin suddenly let out a small chuckle and said,
"Staying at the Namgung Clan for a while, you say. Now that's a truly bold way to put it, fitting for Sword Net."
Bold. The word could easily sound negative, but the look on his face and the way he carried himself made it clear he meant it as a compliment, closer to confident.
I turned the question back on the smiling Dokgo Mujin.
"And how have you been, Lord Ghost Dragon?"
He hummed thoughtfully, scratched the back of his head with an embarrassed expression, and answered.
"After that day, I wandered the world for about six months before my father caught me and kept me stuck inside the clan."
It was an answer that deserved a sheepish look. If anyone else had said it, I would have taken it for a lie, but coming from the Ghost Dragon, it somehow rang true.
I was still struggling for a proper response when he looked me up and down and remarked,
"But you've changed quite a bit, Lord Sword Net. Your height... and your build..."
He touched the corner of his mouth, then fixed me with a sharp gaze.
"You even carry the scent of blood."
Realizing how that might sound, he waved his hand as if to brush it away, then quickly added,
"Ah, I'm not calling you a murderer or anything like that. It's just that you really do smell of blood. I've been wandering the outside world, so I've grown sensitive to scents..."
The scent of blood. I didn't notice any particular metallic odor myself. Maybe I'd been wearing the same clothes for too many days to tell.
I caught myself fiddling with my sleeves for no reason. Dokgo Mujin hesitated briefly, then stepped a little closer. In a voice laced with quiet anticipation, he asked,
"So who was your first opponent?"
In other words, whose blood was it? Or perhaps he was asking who I'd killed.
"I didn't kill him, but... it was a demonic practitioner. I did get injured because of it."
Truthfully, I should have been hurt far less. A faint bitterness rose in my mouth.
In contrast to my mood, Dokgo Mujin offered sincere praise.
"A demonic practitioner. They can be quite a difficult opponent at first. To come out of it with only that much to show, that's impressive enough on its own."
He was right. The fighting spirit and killing intent that poured out of a demonic practitioner's unique energy were incredibly threatening to anyone who hadn't experienced real combat. The body's natural instincts would cause it to shrink back, making it hard to display one's true skill.
It wasn't the sort of thing you could understand just from hearing about it, so it must have come from his own experiences facing them. Of course, it hadn't been my first encounter with a demonic practitioner, and even though I knew everything about them, I'd still let old grudges take over and fought like a fool. But I couldn't explain any of that, so I simply smiled.
"By the way, what brings you here?"
When I asked, he lifted his straw hat just enough to show his face again. Grinning, Dokgo Mujin spoke in a playful tone.
"As a dragon, I've come to witness the birth of our junior."
As a dragon, to watch the birth of a junior? Those words couldn't possibly have come from the Ghost Dragon I knew. My mouth fell open in shock. I closed it quickly, realizing how rude it looked, but he must have seen.
"Don't look so surprised. I know it too. I'm not exactly the type to do something like this. Still, isn't it only proper to come see the birth of a junior I personally gave a name to?"
He'd personally given someone a name? Was there a rising star from the Dokgo Clan? Even if there was, did it make sense for him to be the one naming them?
"You... gave them a name yourself?"
Dokgo Mujin shifted his gaze toward me and answered as if it were nothing special.
"That nickname of yours, Sword Net. I came up with it. Pretty cool, isn't it?"
"Pardon?"
For a second I thought I'd misheard. But his next words left no room for doubt.
"From your reaction, it seems you really didn't know."
He broke into a wide smile, then threw his head back and laughed heartily before continuing.
"During our first meeting, we only introduced ourselves one way, remember? So I just made up a nickname on the spot."
If he'd simply asked my name, I might have been grateful. Because of that nickname, I'd been hounded endlessly by people like Namgung Seha and Hye. Then again, the name Sword Net had unexpectedly gained some fame and helped me here and there. I wasn't sure whether I should thank him or not.
"I personally think Sword Net sounds cool too, but even back then, and especially now, it feels a bit lacking as a title."
Dokgo Mujin clapped me on the shoulder as he spoke, then moved past me and added,
"I hope you become a dragon soon."
As he started to leave, I turned to resume my search for a quiet place to rest. But then, as if something had just occurred to him, he looked back and said,
"Now that I think about it, you probably don't have any experience in competitions like this, Lord Sword Net."
I didn't. Not in my previous life, and not in this one. In my last life, war had broken out the moment I took up the sword. In this life, I'd barely been able to leave the house. This Dragon and Phoenix Gathering was my first.
So I nodded and answered honestly.
"Not yet."
He stroked his chin thoughtfully and offered some advice.
"I figured as much. In that case, I hope you won't be too disappointed."
"You may have heard this already, but it's also why I don't spend much time at home... Even the righteous faction can't help showing some childish sides... In a way, it's rather ugly."
He forced a hearty laugh, trying to make light of it, then stepped close and draped an arm around my shoulders. Once his laughter died down, he greeted me once more.
"It's a little late, but let me say it again. Welcome to Mount Song."
I was resting in the room I'd been assigned, shaking off the exhaustion of the long journey. I'd just finished rewrapping the bandages over wounds that had nearly healed when someone knocked on the door.
- Knock knock
"Are you there, benefactor?"
The title "benefactor" told me it was a Shaolin monk. I rose and opened the door to find a young monk standing there. He pressed his palms together and bowed.
"We will be deciding the matchups for tomorrow's Dragon and Phoenix Gathering while sharing dinner. Would you kindly join us for a short while?"
The young Shaolin monk quickly added,
"If you cannot attend, we will deliver only the matchup results to you separately."
"No, I'll be there."
The monk nodded.
"Then let us depart."
He immediately turned and began walking. I followed him to a large hall.
"Opening the door."
- Creak
As the hall doors opened, I saw massive tables lined on both sides, laden with food. Dozens of young rising stars were already seated around them. At the head positions sat dragons and phoenixes, including the Ghost Dragon himself.
After a brief glance, the Shaolin monk told me to sit wherever I liked and left, closing the door behind him. I returned the small wave from the Black Dragon seated in front of the Ghost Dragon and took an empty seat nearby.
More people gradually filled the remaining spots until every chair was taken. Then someone stepped onto the platform at the front of the hall and spoke.
"Greetings, everyone."
It was the same man who had been recording names at the mountain gate earlier. He looked over the crowd and continued.
"I didn't expect the matchups to be decided so quickly."
The hall immediately began to buzz. I was a little startled myself. His words didn't quite match the situation.
"The proper method would have been to draw lots, but we received special instructions this time..."
The man tilted his head as if troubled by the reaction, scratched the back of his head, then laughed theatrically as though nothing was amiss.
"Now, everyone please stand and flip your chairs over for a moment."
A few quick-witted people immediately lifted their chairs and turned them upside down. I followed suit.
— 9 —
"The person whose number matches the one written beneath your chair is your opponent."