Chapter 707

The duel ended, leaving only the sound of the wind and an eerie silence on the stage.

Not even the faintest breath could be heard as I slowly raised my head, my gaze falling on Forest Tempest Fist, now collapsed before me.

I took a deep breath, calming myself.

‘Ah, this feels a bit awkward.’

A faint smile tugged at my lips.

I had known for some time that he had reached the Flowing Flame level—just barely.

Even though he tried to suppress his aura, his lack of control caused faint traces to seep out.

And I understood why he had been concealing his level.

It was hard not to feel a twinge of guilt.

In another situation, this stage would have been his, and he would have shone as the protagonist of this match.

‘But then again, I’m grateful things turned out this way.’

I straightened my back as I stood.

“…What the…?”

“W-What just happened?”

The silence shattered, replaced by murmurs rippling through the crowd.

“Forest Tempest Fist… collapsed?”

“But isn’t he supposed to be at the Flowing Flame level?”

“Was that all a lie?”

Questions and doubts began to spread, but not everyone was confused.

“No,” a voice declared firmly, “Forest Tempest Fist is undeniably at the Flowing Flame level. I, Lightning Spear, can vouch for it.”

“Lightning Spear…?!”

“Wait, the Lightning Spear?”

“Yes! The one with the long scar across his cheek—it's Lightning Spear himself!”

All eyes turned to a burly man seated among the spectators.

Lightning Spear Bun Rang, a renowned member of the Hundred Great Masters.

The realization that such a figure had been watching the tournament sent ripples of awe through the crowd.

“And if Lightning Spear confirms it…”

“Then Forest Tempest Fist truly is at the Flowing Flame level.”

With this confirmation from another Flowing Flame-level master, the discussion shifted to a new question.

“Then… what just happened here?”

The question sparked a wildfire of speculation.

“Did that young man just… defeat Forest Tempest Fist?”

“It must’ve been some kind of sorcery!”

“Sorcery? Don’t be ridiculous. Do you think anyone would dare use sorcery in the Martial Alliance’s tournament?”

“Besides, no kind of sorcery could take down someone at the Flowing Flame level…”

“Then… are you saying that young man is also at the Flowing Flame level?”

The weight of this possibility drew every gaze to Lightning Spear once again.

Though clearly uncomfortable with the attention, Bun Rang remained silent for a moment, his brows furrowed deeply.

The truth was simple.

‘I didn’t see it.’

Despite his mastery of spear techniques so swift they earned him the name “Lightning Spear,” even Bun Rang had been unable to track So Yeomra’s movements.

Forest Tempest Fist’s massive frame might have obstructed his view, but how had the young man managed to fell such an opponent in the blink of an eye?

‘Could it really have been sorcery?’

The thought crossed Bun Rang’s mind, but it seemed implausible.

If not sorcery, then…

‘Is that youth truly at the Flowing Flame level?’

If So Yeomra had reached such heights, it would mean his Flowing Flame level surpassed Forest Tempest Fist’s fledgling grasp.

Even Bun Rang, who could easily defeat someone at Forest Tempest Fist’s level, would require at least three exchanges to bring him down.

‘But this young man… took him down in an instant.’

This realization deepened the creases in Bun Rang’s brow as his gaze locked onto So Yeomra.

It wasn’t just Bun Rang.

The entire audience was beginning to shift their perception.

“So Yeomra… who is he, really? Is he truly at the Flowing Flame level, despite being so young?”

“Now that you mention it, I did hear rumors years ago about So Yeomra reaching the Flowing Flame level… Could it be true?”

“Years ago? That doesn’t make sense! Isn’t he just barely past twenty?”

“Are you saying he reached the Flowing Flame level faster than the Mystic Dragon? That would contradict the Alliance’s official statements!”

The murmurs of the crowd grew louder, transforming into sharp speculation and mounting curiosity.

The weight of these doubts and questions would soon crack the facade of certainty surrounding the tournament.

Each word became a blade, carving a path toward unraveling the established narrative.

And I could feel it—all of it.

“Judge,” I called out calmly, breaking the mounting tension. “Shouldn’t you announce the results?”

“…!”

The judge flinched at my words, momentarily stunned by the chaos.

“Ah, yes… uh…”

He stammered, clearly shaken, but eventually regained enough composure to speak.

“The match is over. The victor is contestant number eighte—”

“I’m number seventeen,” I corrected smoothly.

“Ah. Right…”

Still visibly disoriented, the judge nodded hurriedly.

“Contestant number seventeen… wins.”

Even after the judge’s announcement, the buzz of the crowd didn’t die down.

And that was fine.

Let them whisper.

Let them wonder.

This was exactly what I had been waiting for.

With one last glance at the murmuring crowd, I turned and strode off the stage without a trace of regret.

As I disappeared from view, only one name continued to echo through the stands: So Yeomra.

It was exactly as I had hoped.

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

He walked.

He continued to walk.

Slowly, as if he wasn’t in a hurry. The slower he moved, the more the gazes fixated on him.

All of them were the stares of martial artists.

Those who must have just witnessed the sparring match. They all turned to look at his face.

Those who had been sneaking glances now openly stared.

Their gazes, pouring in from all directions, carried a mix of emotions.

Shock.

Suspicion.

Wariness.

Fear.

It was a whirlwind of feelings, but it didn’t feel entirely unpleasant.

“Did he really take down Forest Tempest Fist in a single strike…?”

“I couldn’t even see his movements….”

“How on earth did this happen…?”

The murmurs were starting to give him a headache.

The pathetic creatures barking like this were utterly laughable.

Without meaning to, such thoughts surfaced in his mind, and he had to suppress them.

‘Damn it.’

Things had been going well lately, but whenever he let his guard down, this happened.

Was it that his blood was running hot? He occasionally felt this way.

Suppressing a sigh, he arrived at the spot where Tang So-yeol and Bong Soon were waiting.

Upon spotting him, Tang So-yeol smiled brightly and waved.

Oddly enough, seeing her made him feel a bit more at ease.

“You’ve worked hard.”

“What hard work? I didn’t do anything.”

For some reason, he felt a little embarrassed.

He muttered irritably, contrary to his feelings, but Tang So-yeol merely smiled in response.

“You worked hard. I know you don’t like being stared at by so many people.”

“…”

He couldn’t deny it.

Awkwardly, he laughed at her comment.

“You did well, my lord. You really did.”

“You were amazing! As expected of my future par—”

Bong Soon attempted to blurt out nonsense, taking advantage of the moment, but he smacked her forehead sharply.

“Yeeek!”

Bong Soon screamed, clutching her crown in pain.

“Please… just stay quiet.”

“Ugh… this… feels nice…”

“…”

His head spun.

The chaos in his mind that had calmed down after seeing Tang So-yeol now threatened to explode because of Bong Soon.

“Pfft….”

Tang So-yeol seemed to find the situation amusing and tried hard to stifle her laughter.

This was chaos. Complete chaos.

Every gaze in the vicinity was glued to them, but their little group stood out, utterly different in mood.

And strangely, that didn’t feel all that bad.

Shaking his head, he turned to Tang So-yeol.

“Don’t you feel nervous?”

“Pardon?”

The competition hadn’t reached the 50th match yet, so Tang So-yeol’s turn would come next.

Even so, Tang So-yeol showed no signs of anxiety.

It was understandable for Bong Soon—she was more of a subhuman existence—but why was Tang So-yeol so composed?

Curious, he asked her, and she replied.

“They’re not opponents worth being nervous about.”

“Ah….”

Her answer made sense, and he nodded.

Indeed, that man wasn’t worth worrying about.

“Why? Do you think I’ll lose?”

“Come on, no way.”

There was no such thing as absolute certainty, but probabilities did exist.

And judging by that probability, Tang So-yeol losing to that man was nearly impossible.

Unless she intended to throw the match, of course.

Hearing his reply, Tang So-yeol smiled with her eyes and said.

“Then there’s no need to worry.”

Her words prompted him to avert his gaze slightly.

“Who said I was worried?”

He’d been caught.

He’d tried to hide it, but how had she known?

“I don’t lose. To anyone but you, my lord….”

Tang So-yeol’s smile faded as she continued.

“To no one.”

Her words carried a peculiar weight.

It could be called confidence. Or perhaps a fierce determination.

Had Tang So-yeol always been like this? Or had the Shadow King done something to her?

It was nice to see, but it felt unsettling at the same time.

“…Alright.”

Although the feeling was strange, he didn’t press further.

Tang So-yeol turned her attention away, beginning to observe the surroundings.

The gazes toward their direction remained abundant.

Half of them were because of him.

The other half were because of Tang So-yeol.

“So that’s the Tang Clan’s daughter.”

“They call her the Poison Queen? I heard she hasn’t reached Peak Level. How did she make it this far?”

The martial artists murmured among themselves as they glanced at Tang So-yeol.

“Isn’t it obvious? She must’ve schemed something again.”

“Well, that does sound plausible….”

The comments were far from kind.

The Tang Clan’s reputation in Zhongyuan was at an all-time low.

The experiments conducted on abducted orphans had been exposed.

Because of that, the Tang Clan’s position within the orthodox factions had become precarious, with debates about whether they should even remain part of it.

Given the situation, the fact that a member of the Tang Clan had appeared publicly only invited more scorn.

“Her family’s a problem, but she’s certainly beautiful.”

“Are you really trusting her looks? This era’s rotten with deceit…. They’re all the same breed.”

“Click-click. Even the Oil Sword faltered momentarily, but that was clearly her fault—”

Hiss.

He couldn’t take it anymore and released his Qi.

Guoooooo…!

“Eeek!?”

“Ugh…”

The ones spewing nonsense began to tremble under the killing intent.

It was hard to hold back.

Should he kill them?

Or burn them slowly from the feet up?

Unable to suppress his emotions, he started walking toward them.

Thwack.

Tang So-yeol grabbed his hand, stopping him just as she had before.

The difference this time was—

“My lord.”

“…”

Her clear voice made him look at her. Tang So-yeol’s eyes were unwavering.

“Please don’t.”

Her request was the same as before.

But—

“If I stay under your protection like this, I can’t do anything.”

“…!”

Her words left him frozen in place.

“I don’t want to live like that.”

“You…”

“Honestly, I’m very happy. Just the thought that you’re protecting me makes me feel like I own the world. But… I can’t just let it stay that way.”

“What are you saying?”

Confused, he asked, and Tang So-yeol smiled faintly as she continued.

“Walking together isn’t supposed to be like this.”

“…”

“I want to walk beside you.”

Her words, laden with meaning, left him breathless.

The sincerity in Tang So-yeol’s voice struck deeply.

“That’s why I came here. To show you.”

“Show me? Show me what?”

“That I can stand tall without your help. Not just walk, but run and even fly.”

“…”

“So, for now… please just watch. That’s all I ask.”

Her grip on his hand tightened.

The cool yet warm touch made him retract his Qi.

Saaaa….

As he withdrew his killing intent, the ones crushed under the pressure collapsed to the ground.

“Gasp… Gasp…”

“Ugh…!”

Those with lower levels of cultivation even had a gag reflex.

Watching them, he took a step back and crossed his arms.

“Thank you, my lord.”

“…”

He frowned but didn’t reply.

It wasn’t because he was upset with Tang So-yeol’s attitude.

It was because he was frustrated with himself for failing to hold back despite understanding her feelings.

At the same time, curiosity arose.

What was Tang So-yeol planning to demonstrate?

...Was this really what she wanted to show me?

The questions began to sprout.

And it wouldn’t be long before he found the answers.

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

The dueling stage where I had been standing moments ago.

On the cold marble surface, someone lay collapsed, bleeding.

“Guhh… kuhk.”

The one groaning in pain was none other than Oil Sword, one of the Hundred Masters of Zhongyuan.

A renowned expert who was said to have reached the level of

Hwagyeong

.

Yet this prominent figure was now struggling, bleeding profusely, as if his strength had been utterly sapped. The spectators, who had previously been murmuring, now held their silence, unable to utter a single word.

Then—

Kkook!

Someone stepped lightly onto the face of the fallen Oil Sword.

“Guhhh!”

Yu Tankum couldn’t even scream properly.

Looking down at him, the owner of that foot—Tang So-yeol—spoke with a bewitching smile.

“Senior. You should stand up.”

Her voice made the onlookers tremble.

It was cold yet intoxicating.

“Or are you planning to just lie there like a dog? Honestly… how utterly disgraceful….”

Her gaze lowered disdainfully.

The pale calves visible beneath her clothes contrasted sharply with the figure of Oil Sword twitching beneath her.

This bizarre scene left me staring blankly at Tang So-yeol.

…Was this what she meant by showing me something?

If so, it wasn’t just strange—it was

incredibly

strange.