Chapter 48 : Facing the Demonic Master (1)

Chapter 48: Facing the Demonic Master (1)

“Why, are you scared?”

At Seomun Yuwon’s words, I gave a faint chuckle.

In the end, he was pretending to be mature, but he was nothing more than a conceited brat, full of youthful arrogance.

“I hope you’re not misunderstanding me. I’m someone with nothing to lose, but if you were to lose, wouldn’t your reputation—everything you’ve built until now—come crashing down?”

Seomun Yuwon’s title was the Light-Tracing Saber.

It was said his sword was as swift as a flash, hence the nickname, but also because no one had seen him properly display his sword technique.

That added to the mystique.

Rumors even circulated questioning whether his skills were truly impressive, or if he merely acted mysterious to hide his lack of ability. His martial arts were thoroughly concealed.

“This will be entertaining. Will the light-tracing Saber behead the flying dragon, or will the flying dragon pierce the light and ascend?”

Seomun Yuwon smiled and used his title in a wordplay.

“Young Master Yong, do you have the courage to duel me?”

If you left someone like Seomun Yuwon alone, he’d yap endlessly about this.

People like him had to be firmly shut down or they’d never stop talking.

‘But do I really have the skill to defeat him?’

That doubt lingered.

Seomun Yuwon wasn’t someone on the level of Gocheok or Jeok Gwang—he was the confirmed heir of a prestigious family recognized by everyone.

He had no reason to be weaker—only better than them.

“We’ve finished our meal, so let’s consider it a warm-up. Come to the training arena in 1 hour.”

I nodded as Seomun Yuwon suggested a public match.

‘You’ve dug your own grave. I can already draw out half a cycle of the old man’s cultivation. You’re underestimating me too much, brat.’

*

After a brief circulation of energy, I headed to the designated training ground—and what unfolded was unexpected.

‘Well, damn. He turned this into a full-blown opera stage.’

Seomun Yuwon had spread word of our duel throughout the Seomun Clan’s estate, attracting a crowd of onlookers.

He clearly didn’t think he’d lose.

Otherwise, there’d be no reason to set up such a public match.

Dueling always results in a clear winner and loser. Any warrior with a sense of reputation would know the risk of defeat and opt for a private match.

‘A brat is a brat. Thinks he’s the only one who matters in the world.’

It was laughable—but also infuriating.

Recently, I’d grown stronger through several duels. Ever since stepping into the martial world with a sword, I’d been forced into fights even when I didn’t want them.

Situations like this, where I had no desire to fight but had no choice, were inevitable. After gaining the modest title of Flying Dragon Sword Hero, the challenges only increased.

‘If I didn’t even have that minor title, would Seomun Yuwon have challenged me?’

Something I’d learned since entering the martial world: those with even minor titles never fought those without one.

Being defeated by an unknown, title-less martial artist brought irreparable disgrace—that was the reality of the murim.

The reason they hated the rise of new names like the Flying Dragon Sword Hero was that their own fame might be overshadowed.

They wanted only their names to echo through the world—nothing else.

But mocking your opponent this way? Unforgivable. Trying to preserve the Seomun Clan’s dignity by humoring him... I now realized how naïve that had been.

‘I forgot. These people have always needed to completely crush their opponent to feel satisfied. Fine. I’ll be cold-blooded too.’

I wasn’t the soft-hearted Yong Hwarin of my youth anymore, nor the naïve fool who didn’t understand how the world worked.

This body had lived a lifetime long enough to see through the implications behind words.

And with the Demonic Master’s soul residing in my upper dantian, traits of a demonic cultivator were slowly seeping into me.

The fact that my first kill didn’t leave a traumatic scar was partly due to my past life, but mostly because the Demonic Master’s soul influenced my emotions from within the upper dantian.

This was why I could turn ruthless when necessary.

‘I’ll make you regret this.’

Since the match had become such a spectacle, I intended to enjoy it. I would use this to raise my fame even further.

“Young Master Yong, I didn’t expect Seomun Gongja to go this far. I almost feel sorry.”

Jaegal Yohye glanced at the Seomun Clan’s warriors encircling the training ground as she spoke.

“It’s fine. Let’s consider this the repayment of the debt I owe you, Miss Jaegal. Debt cleared.”

I smiled as I spoke, and Jaegal Yohye could only nod in response.

“Young Master Yong, if you ever step into the Upper World, I think you’ll make a fine merchant. To think you’re still bargaining even in a situation like this—shouldn’t most people be angry?”

“Hahahaha, is that so?”

Her insight was impressive.

She saw the potential for business in me just through our short interaction—it was clear why the Jaegal Clan was so proud of her.

Having said that, she now felt a bit of regret, like she’d lost in this deal.

She hadn’t expected me to settle the debt so quickly—she had hoped to leverage saving the Wandering Child Immortal for a while.

Perhaps that made me all the more appealing.

From the start, Seomun Yuwon had no intention of giving me a fair chance.

“This isn’t child’s play. A real duel between warriors should be fought with real swords, don’t you think?”

In friendly matches, wooden swords were the standard. But he ignored even that.

He clearly wanted to injure me somehow, and that urge made him reckless.

Jaegal Yohye frowned.

“What are you saying? If this is your idea of fair, I’m truly disappointed.”

Honestly, no matter how skilled I was, she still thought I couldn’t match Seomun Yuwon yet.

These heirs of prestigious clans weren’t like ordinary martial artists.

In her own Jaegal Clan, children were fed rare medicines to enhance their bodies and bones from a young age, cultivated with elite techniques to awaken exceptional potential, then taught martial arts.

Even then, it was hard to match those from other great clans.

How could common people compare?

People like Shangguan Joyoung, Pang Giyok, and Shangguan Yuwon were all forged through such processes.

She’d never heard of a mid-tier sect like the Heavenly Central Sect raising heirs that way.

It required astronomical wealth and elite masters—without both, it was impossible.

So far, I’d won against Gocheok, Jeok Gwang, and Do Gye-gong with sheer talent and quick thinking.

But comparing those opponents to heirs of noble clans was foolish.

That’s why she thought I’d surely lose—and tried to at least make it a wooden-sword match, to lessen her guilt.

“Young Master Seomun is right. I’ve heard he’s a true man of honor, isn’t he?”

The more she heard, the more absurd it was.

‘Does he really think he can beat me? Based on what? Just because he got a measly title, he’s so full of himself. This is why I can’t stand the offspring of third-rate sects. They don’t know their place.’

Instead of replying, Seomun Yuwon gave me a smirk.

Among those gathered, few expected me to win.

They hadn’t seen my recent battles, so their skepticism made sense.

Even the elders of the Seomun Clan didn’t stop the match, which meant they believed in Seomun Yuwon’s strength—or simply didn’t think he could lose.

From the Shangguan Clan, even high-level warriors came to witness Seomun Yuwon’s mysterious martial arts firsthand.

On the other hand, younger warriors of the noble clans gathered out of curiosity, wanting to see the sword of the Flying Dragon Sword Hero, who had made quite a name in Henan.

They felt more connected to someone like me—closer to their position—so they wanted to cheer me on.

Pang Giyok, watching me calmly amid the noise while Seomun Yuwon stood excited, quietly admired me.

‘If his composure is that solid, there’s no way he’s weak. Senior Brother Seomun is underestimating him. He’s no less than Seomun.’

A genius known throughout murim, Pang Giyok instantly grasped my skill.

“Brother Giyok, what do you think will happen?”

Seomun Seoseol, believing she was the only one who truly understood her brother’s ability, asked the man she thought even more formidable.

“In my view, it’ll be a close match.”

Even Pang Cheollyeon was surprised and stared wide-eyed at him.

“A close match? Is this Yong Hwarin that impressive?”

“A martial artist who hasn’t reached enlightenment still shows their temperament. Look at him—do you see any signs of agitation? His eyes are solely focused on Senior Brother Seomun. That level of calm doesn’t come overnight, and it’s not found in the untalented.”

Seomun Seoseol blushed.

Meanwhile, her brother was basking in attention, smiling and gesturing to the crowd.

Seeing me calmly gaze at her brother without a hint of fear or hesitation, even she had to admit Pang Giyok might be right—perhaps I was indeed extraordinary.

Pang Cheollyeon finally nodded.

“Indeed, the air around him feels unnaturally calm. He’s already reached inner stillness and is forming his own space.”

“Heh. You’ve already learned to see that?”

Pang Giyok looked at his sister with proud eyes.

She’d trained harder than most of the male warriors in their clan, which often worried him.

But now he saw that her efforts hadn’t gone to waste.

“If you hadn’t pointed it out, I wouldn’t have seen it either. That’s what makes you stronger, Brother.”

Pang Giyok smiled gently.

Pang Cheollyeon still couldn’t understand how this man, so charismatic when it came to martial arts, could be such a clueless fool when it came to women.

She really didn’t like Jaegal Yohye.