Extreme Sword Dragon (6)
What the hell is this?
Where did it all start twisting? Was it when I met Namgung Seha? The brawl I started at the Namgung Clan’s celebration banquet? Beating the Poison Dragon in our spar? Or was it something else I still didn’t know about?
I couldn’t tell. The worries that had been lying dormant in the back of my mind began to creep forward like smoke. Even someone like me—who was never particularly sharp outside of combat—could see it. If my luck had soured, every future plan I had carefully laid out might already be derailed beyond repair.
“Calm down.”
The future had already changed. It wasn’t as if I could die again and reset everything from the beginning. For now, I would stick to the plan: win the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering first. Some of my preparations would still hold value. Once I returned to the Namgung Clan and spoke with her, an answer of some kind would surely surface.
“Damn it…”
That female priestess from the Baehwa Cult—Nazar, was it? With flame techniques at that level, she might have already glimpsed the wall to the Super Peak Realm. In this life, I had yet to find it. Without question, it would be the tallest barrier standing between me and victory in this gathering. It might even prove harder than defeating the Four Phoenixes waiting over there.
Could I win?
“…Hoo. This is driving me insane.”
She was, quite literally, an opponent I had never anticipated. I had never once crossed blades with a Baehwa Cult member. If only I could observe their fighting style one more time, it would help tremendously.
“Eight times…”
I wasn’t even granted the time to finish the thought. My turn had arrived.
I gripped the hilt of my sword and steadied my mind. After roughly half an hour, a victor emerged from the previous match. The judge consulted the list once more and called the next pair.
“Lee Youngjin of the Zhongnan Sect! And Jin Sowoon of the Pacheon Sword Gate! Please step onto the sparring platform!”
I set foot on the elevated stage, drew my blade from its sheath, and assumed a ready stance with the tip pointed at my opponent. Lee Youngjin soon followed, taking his own position. The judge glanced between us several times before dropping his hand and shouting the signal to begin.
Yet Lee Youngjin did not charge. He circled cautiously, probing for an opening. The aggressive nature I had witnessed before was nowhere in sight. I gave him a mocking smile and raised my sword, aiming directly between his eyes.
“You don’t need to worry about your head anymore.”
I would end this in three moves as promised, then turn my thoughts to dealing with that Baehwa Cult woman.
I stepped forward immediately, closing the distance.
…Boom.
Crazy.
Boom.
Crazy. Crazy.
Sword strikes rained down from every direction without pause. I had no choice but to focus entirely on defense. Instinct screamed that allowing even a single approach would spell my end. And the speed—gods, the speed. The blue sky vanished, swallowed by a blizzard of silver-white sword light.
Unbelievable. Was this truly someone at the same Peak Realm as me? Could this be the martial arts of a mere minor sect? No, from the very beginning…
“Why? Is it a little too much for you?”
Could a ten-year-old child truly display such divine might?
Stab.
Damn it. He gave me no time to think. What a vicious bastard. A chunk of flesh tore from my left thigh. Then large and small wounds began blooming across my arms and legs. Only by swinging my sword with greater ferocity did I barely manage to repel the onslaught.
The Thirty-Six Swords of the World cannot generate greater power than the Huashan Sect’s Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art or the Namgung Clan’s Boundless Blue Sky Sword Art.
Master. Master.
However, the sword of our Zhongnan never yields to theirs. Rather, I believe our sword is superior. Did I not tell you so?
If you divide the world into thirty-six directions and block every one with your sword, who could possibly reach you? Since no one’s blade can touch you, that is the unreachable realm. Unreachable.
There is a saying that the best offense is a perfect defense. It is not wrong at all. That is both my sword and yours, so do not doubt it in the slightest.
It wasn’t, Master. It was neither unreachable nor the best offense.
Sword qi surged once more. The strikes coiled around me fiercely, as if determined to see the end. Dozens of slashes poured down in an instant.
“Ha…”
Suddenly the sword qi receded. I lowered my blade to catch my breath, chest heaving.
“Haha…”
I had only lifted my head for a moment. That was when I saw it. The young martial artist I had dismissed was sweating lightly but showed no sign of fatigue. The ferocious barrage from earlier had not been his true skill—merely ordinary for him.
“That was the first second.”
What?
That had been only one second? Come to think of it, the sword strikes had never once broken rhythm. It really had been a single technique.
“Why? Does it feel unfair?”
He asked the question, then pointed his sword tip at me, sneering as he wiggled it.
“Then come at me.”
I swung immediately. I was certain that any opening would swallow me whole. Moving faster than usual, I stepped through my footwork and attacked the twelve forward directions.
With every clash, he was driven back and I advanced. Yet for some reason, I gradually felt as though I were the one being constricted. His eyes tracked my blade with mechanical precision as he spoke in a voice utterly devoid of emotion.
“You would be better off focusing on defense.”
My leg caught on something. In that instant, my body pitched forward. A single sentence brushed past my ear.
“You should have noticed a simple leg sweep.”
He seized my rear in the blink of an eye and unleashed another wave of sword qi. Knowing that surrendering the momentum now meant immediate defeat, I swung with everything I had. But something felt off. The qi was certainly fierce and sharp. It was definitely fast. Yet for some reason, it felt easier to handle than before. Had I already begun adapting? A good sign. Thinking so, I allowed myself a touch more greed in my swings. I had not yet fully seized the momentum, but it felt as though I was beginning to claim it. A smile crept across my lips—only for my opponent to speak as if none of it mattered.
“This is the Murim. You must see the entire forest, not merely the trees.”
A cryptic remark. I dismissed it as psychological nonsense and continued pressing the attack.
Crack.
Huh? The faint sound of metal fracturing came from somewhere. Before I could identify its source, his offensive suddenly intensified. I blocked desperately, sword flashing. The sound grew louder with each exchange.
“My sword…?”
The previous exchanges flashed through my mind. Center. Center. Center again. From the very first moment, he had been targeting only one section of my blade.
Boom.
My sword shattered.
“You should have taken the advice.”
With those words, a heavy wave of emptiness washed over me, and my vision went black.
…
“Winners, when you leave, please draw a new lot here and submit it over there.”
The victors drew their next matchups with bright faces while the defeated left tasting bitterness. Before I knew it, all thirty-two spars had concluded. The hour had grown late, well past mid-afternoon.
The Murim Alliance Leader, Yugwangbaek, had not moved from his seat once. He watched in silence as every participant departed. Only then did a man approach, grumbling.
From guiding newcomers through the mountain gate yesterday to managing the initial drawing of lots and the subsequent redraws, he had shouldered nearly everything alone. A truly unfortunate man.
“Alliance Leader. This is too much.”
He handed over the meticulously organized list and continued complaining.
“Couldn’t we have simply reused the previous matchups…? You did exactly that every year…”
Yugwangbaek flipped through the revised list page by page, then closed it with a crisp snap. Smiling, he handed it back.
“There was an attempt to manipulate the bracket at the last Dragon and Phoenix Gathering. We must remain vigilant so it does not happen again. Knowing that full well, you’re not simply throwing a tantrum and asking for something, are you? Enough.”
Whether the point had struck home or not, the man merely licked his lips, tucked the list away, and rose slowly with Yugwangbaek.
“What did you think of today’s spars?”
In truth, the five days of the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering were painfully short. Dramatic leaps in skill were unlikely in such a brief span, so those who stood out today carried the highest chance of claiming the titles of Dragon or Phoenix. It had become something of an annual custom for someone to ask Yugwangbaek exactly this question.
Normally he would sift through countless mental simulations before answering. Today, however, he did not hesitate.
“One of two people.”
Two geniuses so exceptional it was difficult to declare one superior.
“The female priestess of the Baehwa Cult and the young Sword Net.”
The Baehwa Cult’s participation had genuinely surprised even Yugwangbaek. He had not expected the insular cult to send one of their own.
“Still, the one who personally interests me more is the Sword Net.”
Who would look at that child and see merely a child? To the general spectators, the Baehwa Cult priestess—who had dominated her matches from start to finish—might have appeared more impressive. But to those who truly understood, the difference was stark. The young Sword Net had toyed with his opponent from the first exchange to the last without the other ever realizing it. The young martial artist from the Zhongnan Sect had not been exceptional, yet he was by no means weak. That was why, in Yugwangbaek’s eyes, the boy already looked like a completed martial artist.
Stroking his white beard once, Yugwangbaek spoke.
“I held no great expectations for this Dragon and Phoenix Gathering, yet we have reeled in things beyond imagination.”
He had thought the river contained only minnows, but two massive fish were swimming within it.
“The Baehwa Cult side will be difficult to approach since they are a religion. Still, I’ll test the waters later.”
It did not seem they would be easily caught, but one never knew.