Chapter 715

Cheol Ji-seon fell silent for a moment after hearing my response.

I expected some kind of reaction after my confirmation. Judging by his character, I thought he'd ask either why I had done it or if there was a plan to get him out.

I tapped the table lightly with my fingertips, waiting for him to speak.

Would he ask why I did it?

Or would he ask if there was a plan to rescue him?

As I waited patiently, Cheol Ji-seon finally opened his mouth.

“…Did you have a reason for doing it?”

The first option. He was more curious about the reasoning than the plan itself.

It was a response that reflected Cheol Ji-seon’s personality—thoughtful and considerate, even in such a direct question.

Of course, this kind of approach didn’t suit me.

“A reason, huh… I did it because it was necessary.”

“Necessary?”

“Yes, it was necessary.”

Tang Deok had to be caught by the Alliance.

Under the name of the Demonic Cult (Magyo).

The timing was right. And since someone as impatient as Ilryong Leader had been sent, it made the situation even better.

“Then why did you specifically send Lady Nahi?”

Cheol Ji-seon’s question made me tilt my head slightly.

“What? Didn’t you already figure that out?”

When I sent Nahi to Hubei the other day, Cheol Ji-seon had reacted as if I was being cruel.

I assumed he had some idea of what was happening.

“It was just speculation. I didn’t think it would actually turn out like this.”

His tone suggested he was concerned, so I listened more closely, waiting for him to continue.

And then—

“No matter what, to use an ally like that—”

“Hah.”

Before he could finish, I let out an involuntary laugh.

He seemed to be misunderstanding something.

“Ji-seon.”

“…What?”

“Who said they were an ally?”

“…!”

Cheol Ji-seon’s eyes widened at my cold response.

“Yangcheon…? What are you saying…?”

“Don’t get it twisted. They’re not allies.”

“What do you mean—”

“I mean, stop getting attached. Look at you—your emotions are clouding your judgment.”

The more I spoke, the more Cheol Ji-seon’s eyes trembled.

I took a sip of tea, watching his reaction.

“Your goal and my goal. That’s why we’re together.”

There were very few people I would truly call allies.

Cheol Ji-seon might barely make the cut, but that’s it.

“Ji-seon.”

“…”

He didn’t respond to my call, but it didn’t matter.

“If you have an issue with it, then either change the plan completely or go save him yourself.”

“…!”

“If you can’t, then keep your useless righteousness buried inside. It’s not going to help us right now.”

The path forward was clear.

Even if Cheol Ji-seon’s goals differed from mine, our paths aligned for now.

That’s why he was with me.

“Focus on what’s necessary. Tang Deok was used because he was needed.”

I grabbed a handful of dried snacks from the table and chewed on them.

Even without wine, they went down surprisingly well.

“…”

Cheol Ji-seon didn’t say anything else.

Whether he had nothing left to say or didn’t know what to say, I wasn’t sure.

Either way, I didn’t care.

‘I’m following my own path.’

No matter what Cheol Ji-seon thought, no matter how others viewed me, I had to stick to my path.

That way—

‘I can take full responsibility.’

Gulp.

I finished the last of my tea and stood up.

I’d heard all I needed to and gathered enough information about the rumors. It was time to leave.

‘The bait has been taken.’

Now, I just had to wait.

“I’m heading off first. Didn’t you say you had to meet with Lord Hwangbo?”

“Oh, uh… yeah.”

“Good. See you later.”

Pat, pat.

As I passed him, I gave Cheol Ji-seon a light pat on the shoulder before heading out.

I descended the stairs without once glancing back to see the expression on his face.

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

Two days had passed.

The first round of the main tournament had taken place two days ago, followed by a three-day break.

The reason was simple: a rest period to check everyone’s condition and reduce fatigue after the main round.

Crack.

Stretching slightly, I moved forward.

‘My internal injuries have healed.’

Though some of the deeper ones lingered, the more recent wounds had fully recovered.

That was enough for now.

Whoosh.

The wind brushed against me, prompting me to turn my head slightly.

The end of summer was here.

Autumn’s scent was already starting to seep into the air.

Before long, the leaves would begin to fall.

‘...’

Time was passing.

It wasn’t something I welcomed.

‘Am I feeling impatient?’

I placed a hand over my chest, pondering.

Yes, I was impatient.

How could I not be?

Every day was a battle against sweat and exhaustion, a constant grind.

‘It’s not easy.’

Though I had chosen this path myself, the suffocating weight of it all hadn’t lessened.

I chuckled dryly. Laughing was the only way to cope.

“Look over there….”

“Isn’t that…?”

Hearing whispers, I turned my gaze to the street ahead.

The streets of Hanam were still crowded with people.

Even after the tournament had begun, so much had changed in just a few days.

One of the most notable changes was:

“It’s the Crescent Moon Sword. She really is as stunning as the rumors say.”

“How can someone be so breathtakingly beautiful?”

The recognition of Wi Seol-ah, walking beside me, had grown significantly.

“I heard her duel was incredible.”

“She looks younger than my daughter... and yet, they say she's a Hwagyeong-level martial artist.”

“Her swordsmanship was like watching the Sword Sovereign in his youth.”

The impact of her duel with the Divine Dragon still lingered.

Her beauty had already attracted attention, but now admiration and awe were mixed into the gazes directed her way.

“It’s a shame… I wish we could see more of her.”

There were those who lamented her elimination.

“What can you do? Her opponent was none other than the Divine Dragon of Shaolin.”

The Divine Dragon’s status had also been firmly cemented in the minds of the spectators.

‘Tsk….’

Clicking my tongue inwardly, I reflected.

This was exactly what Shaolin had hoped for.

‘Did she overdo it?’

The Sword Sovereign’s heir was undoubtedly strong—remarkably so.

But…

‘The Divine Dragon was stronger.’

As a result, the picture Shaolin had been painting became even more vivid.

The Divine Dragon’s reputation now soared to unparalleled heights.

Of course it would.

‘Even I thought he was insane.’

Occasionally, when looking at Wi Seol-ah or Namgung Bi-ah, I’d think:

“They’re like the embodiment of human beauty.”

But the Divine Dragon?

‘He was the embodiment of raw talent.’

Whether it was Yeong Pung or Woo Hyuk…

‘Even they didn’t evoke this kind of feeling.’

It wasn’t just about reaching the Hwagyeong—it was the realm of mental imagery.

His technique, Yellow Radiant Armor, said it all.

‘It’s similar to my Sacred Spear.’

Controlling energy so precisely that it didn’t waver, reinforced by sheer willpower.

The sheer difficulty of the technique was laughable.

‘No wonder only a select few can use it.’

How many people in Shaolin could wield it?

Even among Hwagyeong practitioners, the number likely didn’t exceed five.

‘And yet, someone in their early twenties wielded it.’

It was no wonder the buzz hadn’t died down.

So I didn’t bother acting.

‘It’s justified.’

His current self was different from his past incarnation.

I didn’t know what had changed, but the Divine Dragon of this era had far surpassed any wall.

‘I thought he’d be like Yeong Pung, stuck in a small pond.’

But he wasn’t.

‘What changed?’

Did he have someone to keep his arrogance in check?

Could such a person exist within Shaolin?

I couldn’t be sure.

As I walked, the whispers grew louder.

“The Crescent Moon Sword… isn’t that the lady from the Tang Clan?”

Wi Seol-ah was accompanied by Tang So-yeol, whose own reputation had shifted.

Like Wi Seol-ah, she too had gained a new moniker.

“Oh, come on. Tang Clan’s ‘Venomous Bee’? That’s old news.”

“Exactly. Now she’s known as….”

“The Venomous Fist.”

Crunch.

Somewhere nearby, I heard the sound of teeth grinding.

It was Tang So-yeol.

“…Venomous Fist? How… how does that make any sense?”

Her face was scrunched up in discontent, though her gentle features made her attempt at anger look anything but intimidating.

“Seol-ah gets a beautiful title like Crescent Moon Sword… but me?!”

“Well, poison rarely sounds elegant.”

“Exactly!”

She practically screeched, her frustration palpable.

“…I didn’t even use poison during my duel. Why does my title still include poison?”

“Blame your clan for that.”

The Tang Clan, despite its decline, remained synonymous with poison.

That was a reputation Tang So-yeol couldn’t escape.

“I went out of my way not to use poison, and yet….”

‘…Could she have anticipated this?’

Unlikely. If she had, she wouldn’t have smashed her opponent with her fists.

“When you pummel someone like that with your fists, what do you expect?”

“…But I didn’t know he was that weak!”

Her serene expression made her remark even more terrifying.

A grandmaster had been reduced to “weak.”

‘Venomous Fist….’

With her petite stature and soft appearance, the title didn’t suit her at all.

But there was nothing to be done.

Once a moniker stuck, it was nearly impossible to change it—unless one caused a major incident or proved themselves in another way.

‘Like Wi Seol-ah or Tang So-yeol just did.’

While Tang So-yeol grumbled endlessly about her new title, Wi Seol-ah…

“Young Master, would you like a snack? It’s delicious!”

“…Thank you.”

…seemed unbothered.

Whether it was her defeat in the duel or her new moniker, nothing seemed to faze her.

She even looked a bit brighter than usual.

It reminded me of Namgung Bi-ah. Wi Seol-ah’s attitude felt similar.

‘Well, she was the same in her past life.’

Back then, after a major campaign against the unorthodox sects, her identity as the Sword Sovereign’s granddaughter had been revealed, and she was given the title “Little Sword Saint.”

But Wi Seol-ah had frowned at the time, clearly unhappy with the title.

‘She said it felt too heavy.’

That’s what she had said.

‘So now it feels lighter?’

Compared to “Little Sword Saint,” “Crescent Moon Sword” did feel less burdensome.

If that was why she was at ease, then it was a relief.

‘As long as that expression is gone.’

The discontent she’d shown in her past life wasn’t there anymore.

That alone was enough.

I reached out and ruffled Wi Seol-ah’s hair without saying a word.

“Huh? Young Master?”

She looked up, puzzled, but I ignored her and kept running my hand through her hair.

“Hmm?”

Even though I was rough, her hair was so soft it barely tangled.

“…Young Master.”

A low, disgruntled voice came from below.

It was Tang So-yeol.

“…Why are you only touching Seol-ah’s hair?”

“…Hmm?”

What?

“Is it because she’s the Crescent Moon Sword? And compared to her, I’m just… clumsy, dark, and heavy like some old man’s Poison Fist, so you don’t want to touch mine?”

“….”

What kind of delusional nonsense was this?

I felt a headache creeping in already.

“I mean… I’m Poison Fist…! Ugh!”

Before her whining could escalate, I reached over and ruffled Tang So-yeol’s hair too.

Only then did she quiet down.

Walking while patting both their heads—what kind of ridiculous scene was this?

“…Look, it’s So Yeomra…”

This time, I caught whispers directed at me.

“So Yeomra with the Poison Fist and Crescent Moon Sword…”

“I thought it was just a rumor, but it’s true.”

“They say he’s a womanizer… He’s not even that handsome. Why?”

“I heard he’s engaged to Namgung Bi-ah aka Sword Dancer.”

“What? The most beautiful woman in Anhui?”

“And yet, he’s still playing around with other women like that…”

“What trash.”

“Garbage.”

“Trash for sure. Probably not even recyclable.”

…What the fuck.

I already felt a migraine coming on just from hearing them.

Why were these kinds of rumors always about me?

‘I thought I’d done pretty well.’

I had a decent fight against a dude from the Wind Forest Sect, and the hype that spread about me was quite positive.

So why was this the only gossip about me?

‘Why the hell am I the womanizer?’

It would’ve been less frustrating if I’d actually

done

something to deserve it. Damn it.

“Wait… do you think he heard us?”

“Ugh, look at that vicious face.”

“That’s the So Yeomra who burned down the Evil Sect alive…”

“...”

I really hoped they’d understand someday.

I didn’t

only

burn Evil Sect members alive.

“Haa…”

“You okay, Young Master?”

“I’m fine.”

I almost committed murder just now, but luckily, I held myself back.

Not that I could kill someone in the middle of the street anyway.

Not in broad daylight, at least.

Suppressing my irritation, I continued walking.

Our destination was, of course, the Murim Alliance.

“All three of you have been verified. You may enter.”

After confirming our identities at the entrance, we stepped inside.

The hall was noticeably less crowded than the first day.

‘About half left.’

Maybe a little less than half.

Some had probably withdrawn due to severe injuries.

Others might’ve forfeited because their stamina couldn’t keep up.

‘That means there might be some byes.’

It wasn’t impossible.

If the numbers didn’t match up, some would advance automatically.

Just then—

“Hey.”

Someone waved at us from afar.

It was Paejon.

“Over here.”

Beside him stood Seong Yul, looking completely exhausted.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Seeing you two together is an… interesting sight.”

“Hmph.”

Today was the third round of the main tournament.

The first and second rounds had already filtered out a good number of fighters.

Today and tomorrow would thin the crowd even more.

After a few more rounds, the semifinals would finally begin.

‘So much fighting. I’m already tired just thinking about it.’

I felt drained just imagining it.

I was already tempted to take it easy.

‘The others are probably fired up about this.’

And here I was, a martial artist who didn’t even like dueling that much.

While I idly observed the area—

“Why are you here when you’re not even fighting today?”

Paejon, who had been stretching his shoulders, directed the question at me.

Right.

I wasn’t scheduled to fight today.

According to the matchups, I was set for tomorrow.

Even so, I’d come here anyway.

“Well, it’s not

just

because of Bi-ah…”

Wi Seol-ah and Tang So-yeol wanted to come out, and Seong Yul had a match today.

I figured I might as well tag along.

I glanced over at Seong Yul.

He looked like a nervous puppy that desperately needed to pee.

“Hey, why are you acting like—”

I stopped mid-sentence when I saw where Seong Yul was looking.

A group of martial artists—or rather, scholars—stood nearby.

My gaze focused on their uniforms.

White robes embroidered with wind-like patterns.

The same robes that Cheong Hae-il, now deceased, had once worn.

In other words—

‘Hmm.’

They were members of the Kunlun Sect.

Seong Yul’s former sect.

I studied them briefly before turning to the notice board displaying today’s matchups.

“….”

Quietly scanning through the names, a few entries caught my attention.

Gwangju Jin Clan’s Jin Im-seok vs. Kunlun Sect’s Jo Cheon.

‘So that’s why he’s acting like this.’

Jin Im-seok was the fake identity I had crafted for Seong Yul.

And his opponent? A member of the Kunlun Sect.

Was this fate?

‘He said nothing happened before… Bullshit.’

When I asked him earlier, Seong Yul insisted there were no problems.

But judging by his expression now, something definitely happened.

‘Tsk, tsk.’

If only he’d told me earlier, I could’ve helped somehow.

I wasn’t happy about this.

‘And it’s not just his problem.’

Seong Yul’s duel with the Kunlun Sect could be dealt with later.

What bothered me more was a different matchup listed further down.

Paejon’s opponent.

Hebei Peng Clan’s Peng Zhou vs. Xi’an Bi Clan’s Bi Eejin.

“….”

Paejon’s opponent was none other than the Blade King.