Chapter 128
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 128
Chapter Title: It's All Over Now
Gwan Ha-kyeong was a disciple of the Dorim Sect.
She was just an unremarkable disciple that no one in the Dorim Sect paid any attention to.
Even so, she trained until her hands bled.
Believing that effort could surpass even talent.
She entered the Dragon Training Pavilion and became part of Wa Dragon Corps Squad Five.
She spent four years there.
Today was her last day at the Dragon Training Pavilion.
A fourth-year cadet.
No— if she won this sparring match today, tomorrow would be her final day.
No one in Wa Dragon Corps, the Dragon Training Pavilion, or even her home sect of Dorim had ever paid her any mind.
She hadn't achieved anything noteworthy at last year's Summer Combat Festival either.
Yet here she was, advancing to the round of sixteen in her final Winter Martial Tournament at the Dragon Training Pavilion.
She was among the sixteen strongest in the entire pavilion.
The emotions surging through her were beyond words.
And she was astonished.
This year's Winter Martial Tournament had been full of upsets.
Who could have imagined that six first-year Fierce Dragon Corps cadets would reach the round of sixteen alongside her?
It was an upset that dwarfed even her own advancement.
That's why she wanted to create her own miracle this time.
And the opponent who would decide that stood right before her.
Even though he was just a first-year Fierce Dragon Corps cadet.
Ju Woo-myeong.
The sole disciple of the former Wudang Sect's greatest swordsman, Elder Mu Yeon.
In terms of seniority, he was on the same level as the current Wudang Sect Leader.
It made no sense for someone like him to be a first-year Fierce Dragon Corps cadet. He shouldn't have even come to the Dragon Training Pavilion in the first place.
Yet here he was, standing before her as her sparring opponent.
'I'll break him.'
Gwan Ha-kyeong steeled her resolve and raised her blade.
"Ho?"
The long Winter Martial Tournament had worn on, and now a spark of interest lit in Ha Mu-baek's eyes as he sat atop the roof.
"What's caught your eye?"
Gong Son Mu-oe, sitting beside him, asked.
His gaze followed Ha Mu-baek's to one of the eight simultaneous sparring matches unfolding below.
Ha Mu-baek had been watching them all, but there was clearly one that had drawn his reaction.
"I hadn't noticed before, but there's a pretty decent one down there. Looks like a Dorim Sect disciple."
You could tell just from the way she held her blade.
He had seen enough Dorim Sect folk to recognize it on sight.
At the mention of Dorim, Gong Son Mu-oe's eyes fixed on the same spot.
There was only one person wielding a blade like that.
And it was a woman hefting a massive greatsword.
The same type wielded by Righteous Heaven Alliance Leader So Hwi-woong.
"You're talking about her, then."
Gong Son Mu-oe nodded.
"She doesn't shine right now, but she will one day—brilliantly so. Her stance with the blade tells me that much."
People called So Hwi-woong a once-in-a-millennium genius, but that wasn't entirely accurate.
He was a genius, yes, but he hadn't reached his position solely because of that.
The Dorim Sect's blade arts demanded steadfastness and persistence.
A path of steady, unwavering progress—one step at a time toward the horizon.
That's how their blade arts led to great attainment one day.
The Heaven-Severing Demon-Slaying Blade.
To cleave the heavens, it required not just heaven-sent talent, but the effort to slice through them.
The Heaven-Severing Blade.
The Dorim Sect blade art that Gwan Ha-kyeong had mastered.
A blade that severed the heavens.
Despite its grandiose name, it consisted of just five simple forms.
Disciples who mastered it moved on to the next stage: the Demon-Slaying Asura Blade.
But Gwan Ha-kyeong had not.
It was because of a single scene she had witnessed by chance as a child.
Righteous Heaven Alliance Leader So Hwi-woong demonstrating the five forms of the Heaven-Severing Blade.
It was beautiful. Ferocious.
She had watched, entranced, yearning to wield it herself one day.
So she had trained the Heaven-Severing Blade obsessively.
And now, the fruits of that training were on display.
The five forms crashed down on Ju Woo-myeong like a storm.
At first, Ju Woo-myeong seemed flustered, but he quickly regained his rhythm and counterattacked.
Ju Woo-myeong's Supreme Clarity Sword wove chaotically with Gwan Ha-kyeong's Heaven-Severing Blade.
His Supreme Clarity Sword pressed in from all directions, overwhelming her.
Her Heaven-Severing Blade sought to cleave his oncoming strikes in a single stroke.
It was an even match.
No— Gwan Ha-kyeong seemed to have a slight edge.
As a faint smile tugged at her gritted lips...
Ju Woo-myeong's swordplay suddenly transformed.
A grand, supple sword art that no brute force could shatter.
The Supreme Ultimate Radiant Sword.
Wudang's ultimate technique unfolded now from Ju Woo-myeong's hand.
And with that, the match was decided.
"Ah..."
The sword tip hovered right before her throat.
Gwan Ha-kyeong had no choice but to concede defeat.
"I lose."
With those curt words of surrender, she turned and descended from the sparring platform.
"Hoo..."
Ju Woo-myeong let out a deep sigh as he stepped down from the platform.
He hadn't expected to have to unleash the Supreme Ultimate Radiant Sword.
It was his ultimate trump card, one he'd kept tightly hidden.
She had truly been a formidable foe.
Though she herself seemed oblivious to just how strong she was.
Yeong Ho-jun, a disciple of the Huashan Sect, had gritted his teeth and trained relentlessly since last year's Summer Combat Festival.
Who would have thought he'd suffer such a bitter defeat at the hands of Fierce Dragon Corps punks?
To those who couldn't even handle a single Dang Chu.
He had honed his sect's swordsmanship.
And now, he could finally bloom plum blossoms from his blade tip.
At this level, he figured he could even take on Namgung Ji-hu.
But Namgung Ji-hu had been frequenting the Fierce Dragon Corps barracks.
Off to spar, he'd say.
Yeong Ho-jun clenched his fists tightly.
He knew Ju Woo-myeong was impressive.
But that didn't mean he was any weaker.
Wudang and Huashan.
They had always been rivals among the Nine Great Sects, both sword cultivating schools.
Even if Wudang's prestige now pierced the heavens, he'd never once thought Huashan swords were inferior.
His opponent was Hwa Tae-ak from the Thunder Citadel.
A Wa Dragon Corps Squad Two cadet.
True to his Thunder Citadel roots, he wielded a domineering fist art.
The iron gauntlets encasing his arms blocked Yeong Ho-jun's sword ceaselessly.
An unexpectedly tough opponent.
To think Squad Two of Wa Dragon Corps had a cadet like this.
But Yeong Ho-jun now was different.
The first-half Yeong Ho-jun might have lost.
But by blooming twelve plum blossoms out of twenty-four strikes, Yeong Ho-jun claimed victory.
His gaze turned to Ju Woo-myeong, who had just stepped down from his platform.
They would face off in the next round of eight.
'Wait there. I'll show you the Huashan sword is stronger.'
His eyes burned with competitive fire.
Mok Cheong-san slowly ascended to the sparring platform.
And eyed his opponent.
Dan Mok Un-roe, a Fierce Dragon Corps cadet. He hadn't cared enough to even remember the name.
But now he was a little interested.
Because he'd defeated Wa Dragon Corps Squad One's Sa Pyeong-ju.
And with mere Three Talents Swordplay, he'd overcome the Thunder Citadel's Great Wave Flowing Water Sword Form.
As far as Mok Cheong-san knew, the Great Wave Flowing Water Sword Form was one of the world's supreme techniques.
But that was because Sa Pyeong-ju was inexperienced.
He was different.
Mok Cheong-san drew his sword.
The introductory stance of the Heavenly Illusion Heavenly Path Swordplay.
The blade tip pointed straight at Dan Mok Un-roe.
Dan Mok Un-roe drew his as well.
"Begin!"
At the referee's call, Mok Cheong-san moved first.
He had no intention of wasting energy needlessly here.
Even if this was his final match of the day, he wanted to end it quickly and preserve his stamina.
One sword split into two, flying toward Dan Mok Un-roe.
Dan Mok Un-roe calmly swung his blade to block the incoming strikes.
Two became four, four became eight.
Dan Mok Un-roe blocked them all.
The moment eight became sixteen...
Dan Mok Un-roe blocked some, deflected others, and slipped through.
Mok Cheong-san's expression flickered slightly.
He had thought sixteen sword shadows would be enough to break him.
Mok Cheong-san's Heavenly Illusion Heavenly Path Sword didn't stop.
It surged toward Dan Mok Un-roe once more.
This time, thirty-two sword shadows.
Dan Mok Un-roe leaped into their midst, swinging his blade.
A simple Three Talents Swordplay form that erased all thirty-two shadows.
"You bastard..."
Mok Cheong-san ground his teeth.
His blade wavered, and in an instant, the shadows swelled to sixty-four.
Swords enveloping Dan Mok Un-roe from every direction.
Dan Mok Un-roe rolled across the ground.
Ground Roll.
A motion that invited mockery for being a roll in the dirt.
A smile finally crept onto Mok Cheong-san's lips.
Some warriors considered using it a humiliation in itself.
But not Dan Mok Un-roe.
Ha Mu-baek had taught him he could roll on the ground against him anytime.
He had learned there were far more important things than empty posturing.
With that single roll, Dan Mok Un-roe completely escaped the range of Mok Cheong-san's blade.
He had shaken off all sixty-four shadows.
Only then did Mok Cheong-san realize it.
"Tch."
His blade moved again.
One hundred twenty-eight shadows about to engulf Dan Mok Un-roe in an instant.
That's when Dan Mok Un-roe saw it.
The massive gap in between.
A gap impossible to miss.
Dan Mok Un-roe's sword thrust into that opening.
Clang!
A resounding crash echoed as Mok Cheong-san's sword hit the ground.
"H-How..."
Mok Cheong-san stared at his right hand in disbelief.
It was empty.
His sword lay on the ground.
His opponent's blade hovered before his chest.
"Victory to Dan Mok Un-roe!"
Mok Cheong-san stood there, lips pressed tight in refusal to accept it, until the referee finally declared the result.
After the victory call, Dan Mok Un-roe descended from the platform.
Mok Cheong-san remained, face twisted in denial.
Even as twilight deepened, he couldn't accept his defeat.
The Heavenly Sword Sect's top prodigy.
A genius comparable to Righteous Heaven Alliance Leader So Hwi-woong's talent.
That was him, wasn't it?
Yet to lose like this to a mere Fierce Dragon Corps cadet?
Impossible.
"Urgh."
He ground his teeth.
Rage boiled over—he wanted to lash out—but too many eyes were watching.
Mok Cheong-san clenched his jaw and stepped down from the platform.
His eyes were bloodshot red.
Cheong Wu-ja.
This Wudang disciple had been through hell since the second half of the term began.
All because his martial granduncle had entered the Dragon Training Pavilion. Even back at the main sect, he'd only heard rumors and never seen the man in person.
It was inevitable.
As Elder Mu Yeon's disciple, living in seclusion, there was no way to meet him.
Why had someone like that come to the Dragon Training Pavilion?
Regardless, as a senior from the main sect, Cheong Wu-ja felt obligated to attend to him.
The Dragon Training Pavilion claimed to disregard sects and seniority, but how could they truly?
After graduation, he was still a Wudang disciple.
But his martial granduncle had gone straight to Fierce Dragon Corps, and they never crossed paths.
A brief greeting was all.
Namgung Ji-hu seemed to hang out and spar with him freely, but that was impossible for Cheong Wu-ja.
He hadn't realized he was so faint-hearted.
Just the existence of his martial granduncle Ju Woo-myeong had plunged him into inner turmoil.
Reaching the round of sixteen in that state was impressive. Good draws helped.
But luck alone couldn't take him higher.
His round of sixteen opponent: Beom Il-so.
The moment Beom Il-so unleashed sixty-four sword shadows...
Cheong Wu-ja lost.
Beom Il-so descended lightly after his easy win and glanced elsewhere.
There, Mok Cheong-san was in the midst of his sword dance.
But he wasn't overwhelming his opponent.
Since the winner of that match would face him next, Beom Il-so watched intently.
When it ended with Dan Mok Un-roe's victory, Beom Il-so turned away with a smirk.
'Amateur.'
To him, his senior brother's Heavenly Illusion Heavenly Path Sword still looked unpolished.
Ridiculous.
The Heavenly Sword Sect's greatest talent, and that was all he had?
"It's all over now."
Gong Son Mu-oe said, rising from his seat.
Darkness had already settled over the grounds.
The round of eight would continue tomorrow.
The long day had finally ended.
"What will you do now?"
Gong Son Mu-oe asked Ha Mu-baek.
"Bit busy. Got a lot of people to meet."
Gong Son Mu-oe nodded at Ha Mu-baek's reply.
"Need to look after your cadets, huh."
Three of those advancing to the round of eight were under Ha Mu-baek's charge.
Baek Ri-pyeong, Yeon Ha-min, and Dan Mok Un-roe.
"Well then, I'm off."
With a casual bow, Ha Mu-baek leaped into the air.