Chapter 692

After parting ways with Wi Seol-ah, half a shichen had passed.

I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of regret as I took in the situation.

"This was a mistake."

The reason wasn’t anything extraordinary.

The line was just too long.

It hadn’t looked that long at first glance, but I must’ve been late because now I had to stand in it for what felt like forever.

I should’ve gotten in line earlier.

Instead, I’d been idly gawking and ended up in this mess.

When the line started growing rapidly, I should’ve joined in right then. But because I’d been a little late, I had to spend half a shichen just standing in line.

"Gu from the Gu family… Gu Yangcheon. Verified."

The Murim Alliance staff member inspecting my identification token froze momentarily.

Why does everyone pause like this whenever they see my name?

"This feels oddly unsettling."

"I haven’t even done anything

bad

yet." So what exactly was the problem?

Anyway.

After standing in line for half a shichen, I finally got my identification token verified and followed the signs ahead.

Upon entering the gate, I was met with a vast field, artificially leveled and organized.

By the time I arrived, a large crowd had already gathered.

Well, it made sense. I’d spent so much time in line, after all.

Even with a quick glance, I could see there were over a hundred people present.

Considering this was just one of the groups, with the participants divided over three days and further segmented by colors, the total number of participants must be staggering.

On top of that—

"What exactly are they planning to do?"

Even if they split us into smaller groups, could they really filter through this many people in a single day?

Sure, there were supposed to be second and third rounds of preliminaries, but I couldn’t help but feel curious about how they intended to pull this off.

Since the people inside were already lining up, I joined the queue as well.

After waiting for a bit longer—

"The White Group. A total of 172 participants. Everyone is accounted for."

The voice of one of the sword unit members reached my ears.

"…That’s a ridiculous number."

Nearly 200 martial artists gathered in a single group.

Just looking at it made me chuckle dryly.

How exactly were they planning to handle this?

Were they just going to make us all fight each other?

"That’d be the simplest way, honestly."

It was a method I’d seen used frequently, both in my previous life and now.

The easiest way to cut down numbers, though…

"They wouldn’t use such a barbaric approach. Not these self-righteous folks."

As expected, they wouldn’t resort to such "violent" methods under the guise of being a righteous faction.

And, unsurprisingly—

Creeeeak—!

The sound of something being dragged filled the air.

"What’s that?"

"Something’s coming this way!"

The martial artists craned their necks toward the direction of the sound, their eyes widening.

Several sword unit members were carrying something massive toward us.

Seeing it made me widen my eyes as well.

"Why is that here…?"

It wasn’t something I’d expected to see here of all places.

While most people seemed confused about what it was, I recognized it instantly. How could I not?

"It’s something I brought here myself. Of course, I’d know."

I’d traveled all the way down to Guangdong to painstakingly procure and sell it.

Thanks to that thing, my pockets had overflowed with wealth, so there was no way I wouldn’t recognize it.

The item was none other than—

"The Everlasting Cold Iron."

The hardest metal in Zhongyuan, said to surpass all others.

A legendary material believed to have vanished long ago.

"Everlasting Cold Iron?"

Someone else must’ve recognized it too because I heard exclamations of surprise.

"Are they saying that pillar is made of Everlasting Cold Iron?"

"Something that massive?"

"Surely, it’s just a regular iron alloy with a small amount of Cold Iron mixed in."

The pillar stood at least fifteen feet tall.

Everyone assumed it couldn’t possibly be entirely made of Cold Iron.

It was an understandable conclusion.

"If that whole thing were Cold Iron, how much would it be worth?"

Cold Iron was exceedingly rare in this era.

Even the Tang Clan, renowned as the Iron Clan, only used small amounts of it to craft their finest weapons.

No one could believe the entire pillar was pure Cold Iron.

As everyone speculated—

"This is Everlasting Cold Iron, though about half of it is mixed with other metals," the sword unit member explained.

A collective gasp escaped the crowd.

Just as expected, it wasn’t pure Cold Iron.

But still—

"Half? You’re saying

half

of that massive thing is Cold Iron?"

Even at half, the quantity was staggering.

"Where in the world did they get that much?"

"Did they find a hidden mine somewhere?"

"…Ahem."

I cleared my throat at that last comment.

I’d already received word from the sellers about someone buying a massive quantity. So it was the Murim Alliance, huh?

"I’d wondered why they bought so much…."

What I sold was only about a third of what I’d discovered.

The rest was still safely stored away elsewhere.

Selling all of it might’ve lined my pockets even more, but—

"Cold Iron has its uses."

It was a material too valuable to sell entirely.

"The Murim Alliance must be making some serious preparations."

"It seems they’ve got high hopes for this martial competition."

The mere presence of the Cold Iron was enough to ignite excitement among the crowd.

Perhaps this was all part of the Alliance’s strategy.

"Most likely."

They were masters at capturing attention and solidifying their political dominance.

As everyone remained fixated on the Cold Iron, a voice suddenly echoed through the air.

"Thank you all for gathering here."

The voice, imbued with an unmistakable aura, drew everyone’s attention in an instant.

"That’s—!"

"The Captain! The Alliance Captain!"

A man clad in the signature white robes symbolizing the Murim Alliance Captain appeared.

Though his face was obscured by a mask, it was immediately clear he was no ordinary martial artist.

He had not only surpassed Hwagyeong but had also firmly established his mastery.

His presence was undeniable, carrying a distinct weight and authority.

"I am Song Yu, the Captain of the Red Dragon Unit under the Murim Alliance."

"Ah."

Hearing the introduction, I immediately remembered.

"The Deadly Bow."

The Red Dragon Unit was one of the eight specialized units within the Alliance, composed of those skilled in wielding unique weaponry.

Its Captain, Song Yu, was a master archer, known for never missing a target—even in absolute darkness.

We didn’t have much of a connection.

"I think he died when Cheonma appeared."

When Cheonma descended upon the Murim Alliance’s headquarters, four of its unit captains had perished, including the Deadly Bow.

"I will oversee the preliminaries for the White Group. I ask for your cooperation."

Song Yu’s explanation was met with murmurs.

"The Captain himself overseeing the preliminaries?"

"With Cold Iron as well? The Alliance must be going all out this time."

The eight Captains who upheld the Alliance were seen as symbols of honor and prestige within the righteous factions.

To be a Captain, one had to not only be among the greatest martial artists—ranked within the Top 100 Masters of Zhongyuan—but also wield significant influence.

For a Captain to personally oversee the preliminaries… What were they planning?

As everyone focused on Song Yu, he opened his mouth to speak.

"The first test is simple, as expected of a preliminary round."

With a few light taps, he gestured toward the Cold Iron pillar in front of him.

"Each of you will come forward and leave a mark on this Cold Iron."

"Hmm?"

I frowned slightly at his words.

It sounded familiar.

"If the depth of your mark exceeds the set threshold, you will pass."

"Ah."

Hearing his explanation, I smirked inwardly.

"Recycled, huh."

It was a test I’d encountered before at the Divine Dragon Pavilion.

The only difference was that, back then, only a small amount of Cold Iron had been mixed in, and there had been enough for the iron to be replaced regularly.

"But with only that single pillar prepared…"

It seemed they were confident the Cold Iron wouldn’t break.

"With Everlasting Cold Iron, that makes sense."

Even mixed with other metals, it was still Cold Iron.

It would take a significant amount of power to leave even a scratch.

"I thought we’d start off with a proper fight, but they’re keeping it simple."

Rather than directly testing martial skills, they were filtering participants based on their inner Qi and cultivation level.

"Alright."

And so—

"The preliminaries for the Divine Dragon Martial Tournament will now begin. Please come forward one by one."

With Song Yu’s declaration, the Cold Iron test began.

******************

Boom! Crack—!

Thud—!!

It was just past noon, and the vast plain echoed with thunderous sounds.

“Arghhh!”

A burly man swung his fist with all his might.

Boom—!!

An explosive noise burst forth, accompanied by a shockwave. Judging by the power of his Qi, it could have easily shattered boulders.

“Disqualified. Next.”

The evaluation was as sharp as a blade.

There wasn’t even a scratch on the surface of the Cold Iron where his fist had landed.

“This… this can’t be…!”

The man’s face twisted in disbelief.

“There must have been a mistake! P-Please, just one more chance…!”

Refusing to accept the outcome, the man pleaded desperately with the examiner, Song Yu.

“I’ve made myself clear.”

Song Yu’s voice was as cold as ice.

“You only get one attempt. The moment you touch the Cold Iron, there is no second chance.”

At his firm words, the man’s face turned red with rage.

“What kind of ridiculous rule is that?! I won’t accept this! There’s no way someone like me, Palgodon, can fail the preliminaries—!”

Before he could finish his outburst, the man suddenly collapsed unconscious.

The spectators flinched, startled.

In the blink of an eye, Song Yu had struck the man’s jaw and knocked him out.

Most people hadn’t even registered his movements.

The fallen man was promptly carried away by members of the Murim Alliance.

“Next. Number ninety-one.”

Without sparing a glance at the unconscious man, Song Yu called out indifferently.

A martial artist stepped forward with a stiff expression, while the faces of those still in line grew tense.

“Palgodon… Isn’t he the sub-sect leader of the Guangdong Mukchal Sect?”

“They say he was on the verge of reaching the Pinnacle Stage… And yet he couldn’t even leave a mark?”

“It’s already been over ninety participants, and fewer than twenty have passed. Is that really Everlasting Cold Iron?”

An hour into the preliminaries, nearly a hundred participants had tried their luck, but only nineteen had succeeded.

Less than half had made it through.

‘Two close to Hwagyeong, six fully at Pinnacle, eight nearing Pinnacle, and three at the peak of First-Rate.’

Among the three First-Rate martial artists, all used condensed Qi techniques.

Their martial arts focused their Qi at a single point, allowing them to barely pass.

From this, it was clear—

‘The benchmark is set at Pinnacle.’

The test was designed to gauge Qi control and proficiency at the Pinnacle level.

‘Let’s see.’

Glancing around, I quickly calculated in my head.

‘With 172 participants in total…’

Based on their cultivation levels—

‘About fifty will pass.’

Clang—! Crunch—!!

A sharp sound rang out. Feeling the energy from a distance, I nodded to myself.

‘That one passed.’

After hearing the sound, I looked at the Cold Iron.

A lean man stood poised with his sword, which radiated a concentrated aura of Qi.

On the surface of the Cold Iron, a thin sword mark about five inches deep could be seen.

Seeing this, Song Yu announced, “Number ninety-six. Passed.”

“Thank you.”

The man bowed respectfully at Song Yu’s confirmation and moved to the area for the successful candidates.

“As expected of the

Seoncheon Mugwang Sword

. I knew he’d make it.”

“Talented individuals really are different. What a sharp sword strike!”

Hearing the man’s nickname, I tilted my head.

‘Where have I heard that before? Ah.’

I remembered.

It was a nickname I’d heard while registering for the competition.

Apparently, he was a famous martial artist from Cheonghae.

The nickname was absurdly long, so it stuck with me. It seemed we’d ended up in the same group.

‘Looks like he’s firmly at Pinnacle.’

His skill was worthy of his reputation.

The steadiness of his stance showed he’d undergone rigorous training.

Not bad.

I was satisfied with the

Seoncheon Something-or-other’s

performance.

“Next, number one hundred and one.”

As Song Yu called out the next number, he hesitated slightly.

So did the rest of the crowd.

“…It’s him.”

“To think we’d be in the same group as him…”

As the next participant stepped in front of the Cold Iron, voices filled with fear and reverence began to murmur.

It was

Blade King Peng Zhou

.

He was also in my group.

And, as fate would have it, his number was directly before mine.

He was one hundred and one.

I was one hundred and two.

Watching his broad back, I heard a voice from behind me.

“You’re quite unlucky.”

I turned to see a sly-looking man of average build.

It was the person with the number after mine.

“Having to follow the Blade King, of all people.”

I tilted my head at his comment.

“What do you mean?”

The man eagerly elaborated, as if waiting for the question.

“I mean, it’s the Blade King! He’s likely to shatter that Cold Iron to pieces.

Following someone like him means you’ll be compared to him in every possible way.”

“Hmm.”

“You look young. Even if you fail the test, just think of it as a good show. You’ll at least get to witness something amazing.”

His tone made it clear he was certain I’d fail.

“Compared to you, I’m lucky. At least I won’t be humiliated,” he added with a smug grin.

What’s this guy’s deal?

“You must be pretty skilled yourself, huh?”

“Ha. Do you not know who I am?”

“Do you know who I am?”

“…What?”

Annoyed by my tone, his expression soured.

“You’re quite rude, aren’t you?”

“You’re just as rude.”

“That’s because I’m clearly your senior. Naturally—”

“Enough. Do you even know who I am?”

“…No, I don’t.”

“Then why would I know you?”

“…”

The man’s face twitched, but he finally introduced himself.

“I am the

Long Road Righteous Sword

, active in Xi’an.”

“Hmm, okay.”

“…What? Are you pretending not to know, even after I’ve given my nickname?”

“I really don’t know.”

Long Road… what now?

I honestly had no idea who he was.

The man’s expression darkened as my lack of recognition became evident.

“This kid really has no manners…”

Before he could finish grumbling—

Rumble—!

“Huh!”

“Gasp!”

A surge of overwhelming energy swept through the area.

It was coming from Peng Zhou, who stood before the Cold Iron.

“Hoo.”

Exhaling deeply, Peng Zhou gripped his massive blade and assumed a stance.

Whuuuuuu—!!!

A torrent of Qi flowed into his blade, the

Muktaedo

.

“Ugh… The pressure is incredible.”

“This is the Blade King’s Qi…”

The air trembled with his aura, a clear testament to his mastery of Hwagyeong.

Finally—

“Hup!”

Peng Zhou swung his blade with tremendous force toward the Cold Iron.

Boom! Crack—!!!

The concentrated Qi struck the Cold Iron, creating an explosive impact that shook the surroundings.

Thud—!! Boom—!!

A violent gust of wind swept through the crowd, sending some of the weaker martial artists flying.

When the dust settled—

“No way… The Cold Iron…”

“There’s a dent in it?”

A deep, horizontal blade mark marred the Cold Iron—by far the most significant damage anyone had caused.

Song Yu stared at the mark in silence for a moment before announcing, “…Passed.”

As if it were the most natural outcome, Peng Zhou nodded and walked away.

Even after he left, the crowd’s excitement didn’t subside.

“Such a clear mark from his Blade Qi… Truly worthy of a master.”

“Looks like the winner is decided. It has to be the Blade King.”

“I’m satisfied just witnessing such a display. The world is vast, indeed.”

The martial artists were abuzz, as if they’d seen a miracle.

‘It’s about time.’

Seeing the perfect opportunity, I stepped forward.

“Next, number one hundred and two.”

By the time Song Yu called my number, I was already standing before the Cold Iron.

The crowd behind me was still chattering noisily.

“The Peng family’s influence is undeniable…”

“If the Blade King wins, then the Shenlong Corps…”

Ignoring the commotion, I reached out slowly.

Tap.

My fingertips touched the Cold Iron, its surface icy to the touch.

“Hm?”

Song Yu reacted immediately.

“Number one hundred and two. Your hand touched the Cold Iron.”

The chatter behind me paused.

“I told you earlier, didn’t I? Once you touch it, it’s over.”

If you touched the Cold Iron, that was it. No second chances.

That was the rule Song Yu had laid out, yet here I was, hand resting on the Cold Iron.

“What’s with this guy? Did he lose his nerve?”

“Making such a blunder… Tsk, tsk. He wasted his turn.”

“Well, after seeing that performance earlier, who could stay calm?”

“Young warrior, it’s okay! We understand!”

“Ha ha ha!”

Sympathy and ridicule filled the air, but I didn’t feel a thing.

Reactions like these were something I’d endured countless times in my previous life.

If I was the type to falter from this, I’d have died long ago.

“Unfortunately, rules are rules. Number one hundred and two, you—”

Before Song Yu could finish disqualifying me—

Hum.

I gathered Qi into my hand and exerted strength.

Crunch.

“…Disqual—?”

My fingers pierced into the Cold Iron.

Crack—!!!

Not just my fingers, but my entire palm sank into it.

A cold, solid sensation filled my hand.

And then—

Crunch—! Crack—!

I gripped the Cold Iron tightly and pulled my hand free.

Thud.

Chunks of Cold Iron fell to the ground as my hand emerged, holding a solid piece.

“Hm.”

In my palm was a handful of Cold Iron.

On the surface of the Everlasting Cold Iron, there was a deep hole, the size of a fist.

The noise stopped.

No one said a word.

Even breathing seemed cautious in the profound silence.

Sensing the atmosphere, I turned to Song Yu.

“Does this count as a pass?”

“…”

Song Yu didn’t respond, but the result was already clear.