Chapter 191

A blade touching the throat. Sword qi that felt chilling, and the hush that fell over everything.

The instant the match began, the whole place went silent.

What I felt was eyes looking down.

Eyes stiff as stone were fixed on me. Seo Pyeong. Wudang Cloud Dragon, and the future.

A genius of the world, said to have the next Sect Leader seat all but promised.

The look he gave me was sharp ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) enough to cut.

A sword that had sunk lightly.

I glanced at it, and then I felt movement at my side.

It was the referee.

He stepped toward me like he was about to say something, but—

SWOOSH.

Instead, I lifted the sword I was holding and pulled back to widen the distance.

“...Huh.”

The referee looked puzzled at my move. The match was over.

The moment the sword touched the throat, it meant the bout was over.

But I didn’t plan to end it.

Seo Pyeong was frozen like a rock. Looking at him, I spoke.

“For someone who talks that much, you seem kind of unimpressive, so I gave you a warning.”

I said it with a small smile, and Seo Pyeong’s eyes hardened.

Seeing that, I continued.

“Why? You surprised?”

“...Just now... what did you do?”

Seo Pyeong looked like he didn’t understand the situation.

What did I do?

“What are you asking for?”

I spun the sword in my hand once.

“You just lost. Like an idiot.”

“...!”

“If you’d spent less time flapping your mouth and more time watching what was happening, this wouldn’t have happened. But you couldn’t, so here we are.”

I tipped my chin. While I was talking to him for a moment, the silence in the crowd broke and the murmuring started again.

-What was that just now?

-Didn’t Little Sword Saint’s sword touch Wudang Cloud Dragon’s throat?

-...No, in that tiny instant, what...?

-Then you’re saying Wudang Cloud Dragon lost?

The noise came buzzing in.

At the words drilling in from the stands, Seo Pyeong’s face twisted beyond belief.

His grip tightened on his sword, and he bit his lip hard.

“Hey. You’ll bleed at that rate.”

I chuckled and readjusted my grip.

“Get it together. I told you—it was a warning.”

“......”

“The world was never just what you can see.”

No matter how good Seo Pyeong’s eyes were.

No matter how quick his instincts were.

It didn’t matter.

If he didn’t see it, then it was over.

“You’re going to keep standing there like that?”

When I spoke again from a reasonable distance, his face contorted.

“If you don’t want to keep going, then get down.”

I pointed outside the tournament stage with my sword tip.

He clenched his sword with a face gone red.

Doesn’t look like he plans to step down.

“...Kgh.”

A rough sound came out of him.

“I’ll make you regret this.”

He dressed himself up with the pride he still had left.

‘Funny.’

Seeing it made me smile.

Even in my past life, there were guys like that sometimes.

When I lived as Kim Mincheol, the ones who hated me all reacted like that.

‘Did I leave them alone back then? Or...’

Did I get rid of them?

‘Can’t really remember.’

It was useless memory, so I didn’t bother holding onto it.

Because the important thing wasn’t some past life.

“Hoo.”

Tension rose.

Seo Pyeong’s posture changed. Looks like what just happened snapped him back to his senses.

His presence surged.

Hoooo.

Like the air was reacting, everything grew heavier.

It felt a little different from other kinds of energy.

So this was—

‘Dao Aura?’

That pure inner power you only felt in dao sects.

Wudang Sect’s orthodox energy—clean, refreshing, and yet dense.

Heavy.

Yeah. That was the right word.

Seo Pyeong’s Dao Aura was truly heavy.

Watching him, I gripped my sword again.

Then—

[Want me to help?]

Yoo Cheongil asked, his voice smiling.

Honestly, it was tempting.

I was even a little regretful right now.

‘Ah, I should’ve just ended it there.’

If I hadn’t needlessly shown off and just finished the bout, it would’ve been easier.

I did regret not doing that.

But—

‘It can’t be helped.’

I still had to do it.

Because—

‘I need to check something too.’

What I’d gotten from seclusion.

Now was when I had to confirm it for real.

In that tightened moment—

CREEEAK—!

“Hah!”

With a shout, Seo Pyeong’s sword came flying at me.

*****

-Seo Pyeong. You are Wudang’s future.

That was what Seo Pyeong had heard every single day since entering Wudang Sect.

-You must someday surpass even the Sword Saint.

Words he’d heard until his ears bled from his own master.

The Sword Saint, the greatest person of all time.

He was told he had to surpass him and raise Wudang even higher, higher.

Even while he heard those heavy, suffocating words endlessly, Seo Pyeong didn’t care.

Because back then, Seo Pyeong believed without doubt that he could do it.

I’m a genius.

A genius without equal, called Wudang’s hope.

If it’s me, I can do it.

I’ll surpass even the great Sword Saint and become the strongest under heaven.

He lived believing that without doubt.

And the moment Seo Pyeong’s pride shattered—

Was when he attended the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering for the first time.

Even then, Seo Pyeong guarded his towering pride.

In Wudang, there was already no one his age who could handle him.

He came to the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering firmly believing the other juniors would be the same.

But that belief didn’t last long before it was smashed.

-Kgh...!

Coughing blood, Seo Pyeong dropped to his knees.

In front of him stood a big man wearing a disappointed expression.

A youth whose face looked about Seo Pyeong’s age despite his huge body.

He spoke with a fistful of regret.

-What. You’re weak?

-...!

-Wudang Heavenly Sword praised you like that, so I expected something. But you’re nothing special.

The youth who defeated him—Peng Dojun of the Peng Clan.

That was how he judged Seo Pyeong.

-Pathetic. That’s your level. Ah, but you’re still better than that Tang Clan trash.

Peng Dojun had already fought Tang Cheon-il.

Tang Cheon-il was sprawled on the ground, unconscious like a dead rat.

Seo Pyeong was at least better than that bastard.

He didn’t collapse without even enduring a single exchange.

So he was better than him, but—

-...Damn it...!!

Seo Pyeong couldn’t endure with something like that.

I’m a genius of the century.

There shouldn’t be anything above me.

So how could bastards like this exist?

Worse, Peng Dojun—who toyed with him—ended up losing to a much younger girl from Mount Hua.

A sky above the sky. And another sky above that.

That day, Seo Pyeong realized his talent wasn’t the best.

He also understood how vast and heavy the expectations were—placed on him as Wudang’s future, and as Wudang’s next Sect Leader.

-...This can’t be.

He couldn’t believe it.

Why?

-Why.

It wasn’t that he had no talent.

As if to prove it, Seo Pyeong did enter the Seven Prodigies and prove his talent.

But that was all.

Above the Seven Prodigies—

Peng Dojun, who had trampled him, was still up there, called Black-Grand Saber.

And Sword Phoenix, who beat that Black-Grand Saber, was the top junior generation.

Even Moon Dancer, who had never once appeared at the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, had settled into the upper ranks.

Seo Pyeong couldn’t enter that place.

No one called Seo Pyeong a member of the upper ranks.

-Me...?

Why?

Why couldn’t I enter that place?

In Wudang, he was evaluated as the greatest genius, called the future.

Even the Sect Leader—Wudang Heavenly Sword—said the next Sect Leader seat would be his.

-Why are you...?

How could the well be this narrow.

Or was the sky so high he couldn’t see it.

Seo Pyeong couldn’t accept reality.

-Not yet.

So he swung his sword. He swung it viciously, desperately.

He didn’t give up.

He built belief that he could climb higher.

I’ll show you.

I’ll show you what Wudang’s future is.

I’ll show you that I’m the best.

With that one heart, Seo Pyeong spent years.

And then, the time finally came when he could show it.

That was this Dragon-Phoenix Gathering.

He would shed the stigma of “lower rank.”

He would claim the seat of greatest genius.

With that resolve, he came to the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering.

Then he heard words that grated on him.

-Did you hear? Blue Moon Sect can participate in the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering this time.

-Ah, I heard. And they say even Little Sword Saint is attending.

Little Sword Saint.

Seo Pyeong knew the name. With how loud things had gotten recently, he couldn’t not know.

The strongest under heaven, the greatest person of all time.

The successor of Sword Saint Yoo Cheongil, a junior who’d made a major achievement in Sichuan.

Who said it?

-Little Sword Saint looks down on even the Seven Prodigies.

As long as Little Sword Saint is here, the greatest genius isn’t Sword Phoenix—it’s Little Sword Saint.

A giant who doesn’t even need to belong to the Seven Prodigies.

That was the evaluation of the current Little Sword Saint.

Seo Pyeong didn’t like it.

After working that hard to show it with his own body—

‘He steals all my attention?’

More than his changed self, all the attention was taken by Little Sword Saint. And worse—

‘Black-Grand Saber and Thunder Dragon—why even Sword Phoenix?’

Why were those two monsters showing interest in Little Sword Saint?

Poison Dragon had the Sichuan connection, and Moon Dancer was from the same sect, so those made sense.

But those three—he couldn’t understand.

He didn’t like it.

‘Little Sword Saint.’

The successor of the Sword Saint he was told he must surpass someday.

He admitted the bastard’s handsome face, but other than that—looking at that soft build and condition, he couldn’t possibly be strong.

Even his sense told him—

‘That bastard.’

At best he seemed about on Poison Dragon’s level.

‘In the preliminaries, I don’t know what trick he used, but...’

Splitting that tough stone?

Seo Pyeong didn’t believe it. Even Sword Phoenix failed to cut it fully.

But Little Sword Saint succeeded in cutting it in half?

He didn’t believe that at all.

‘He must’ve used something.’

He must’ve done something else.

‘I don’t believe you.’

So he would tear off that absurd mask.

And—

‘I’ll brand it into them that I am Seo Pyeong of Wudang.’

Right here, he would make it absolutely clear who Seo Pyeong of Wudang was.

Definitely.

That was how it was supposed to go.

CREEEAK—!

CLANG—!

“Kgh!”

The flying sword slips out of the sword path and recoils.

Pressure hits, but Seo Pyeong grits his teeth and twists the route again.

Spinning through a half-circle, the sword force that had vanished for a moment rises again—

CLANG—!!!

“...!”

Before sword force can fully cover it, the sword jolts again.

‘Damn it...!’

Seo Pyeong ground his teeth.

He steps again and again, catching his unstable upper body.

He swings again—

CLANG—! CLANG CLANG—!!

Again and again, the sword is blocked.

A few exchanges.

Dozens of swords.

He swings without rest, he swings and swings, but no matter how he swings, the sword can’t reach where he wants it to.

Before the sword can arrive at its destination—no, before it can even move properly from its starting point, it’s thrown off.

‘What...!’

Seo Pyeong let out a ragged breath.

How could this happen?

How could it happen?

‘What the hell...!’

Why can’t it reach?

Seo Pyeong stared at the young man in front of him—Little Sword Saint Bang Sungyeon.

Those blue eyes were wide, his pupils rolling as they tracked.

The end of that gaze was watching Seo Pyeong’s entire body.

He didn’t even look like he intended to hide his eyes.

That was natural—martial bouts were supposed to be like that.

But—

‘Even so.’

How can not a single sword succeed properly?

As Seo Pyeong’s face twisted, unable to understand—

“...Ah... recoil... left...”

Bang Sungyeon was whispering, in a voice so small Seo Pyeong couldn’t hear.

“Left... rotation... wrist inward rotation... half-step back. If the knee comes forward, upper-body force. Then the sword path’s direction is...”

Repeating it, again and again.

Predicting while watching Seo Pyeong’s body and motion.

Things he’d recalled and memorized countless times.

CLICK.

Seo Pyeong’s wrist rotates inward.

The sword moved with it.

Bang Sungyeon stared at the knee. It bent forward, just slightly.

Moon Eyes flashed blue.

If it went like that, the sword would come out on a diagonal.

Before Seo Pyeong’s sword could burst out—

Bang Sungyeon’s sword moved first.

CLANG—!!!

A harsh sound exploded as Seo Pyeong’s sword shot upward.

“Kgh!”

Shock hit his wrist, and Seo Pyeong let out a groan.

His upper body opened.

Bang Sungyeon stepped in and threw a kick at it.

SMACK—!!

“Kuh!”

Seo Pyeong took it clean in the solar plexus and his body flew.

Seo Pyeong tumbled far away across the tournament stage floor.

Looking at him, Bang Sungyeon thought—

‘This works?’

It worked exactly like he thought. Remembering that, he smiled.

Something he’d prepared and prepared over the past few days.

Bang Sungyeon’s bout was memorization.