Chapter 208

The crowd was way bigger than last time.

Back then, you could still spot empty seats here and there, but now it was packed so tight you couldn’t see a single gap.

You could feel the difference in interest, too.

Anticipation and boiling heat.

The faces and reactions—so openly thrilled—were hot enough that even I could feel it.

‘...Damn.’

My stomach already felt bad.

Why the hell are they that excited?

My head shook without me even thinking about it. I genuinely don’t get what’s so fun about watching people beat the shit out of each other that they’d all gather like this.

I never understand it, but what can you do.

‘This world’s always been like this.’

If you’re born in the Central Plains, that’s just something you’re supposed to accept.

Maybe if I didn’t have my past-life memories, I’d be just as interested as them?

...No, wait.

‘Even in my past life, I wasn’t really into stuff like this.’

Maybe I was just always this kind of person.

Anyway.

I watched the crowd swell and surge, then looked toward the tournament stage in front of me.

“HUH!”

“Kkh!”

CLANG—! CLANG CLANG—!

Two martial artists were going at it rough. A sword and a spear—and from what I could tell, the one using the spear had a slight edge.

‘Good distance control.’

They kept the swordsman from closing in, and that built-in range difference had the other guy stuck, unable to do anything cleanly.

“Kkh...!”

He looked frustrated too, trying to force his way inside—

WHIRRRLIK—!!!

But the spear moved like a whip—smooth and flexible—shutting down every attempt.

[It might be a compatibility difference between martial arts, but to begin with, that one is stronger.]

Yoo Cheongil spoke to me about the woman using the spear. I could tell, too.

Compatibility aside, she was just stronger.

CLANG—!!

Before I could even finish deciding that, the result showed itself. The swordsman couldn’t endure the spear’s pressure, and he lost his grip.

The sharp spearpoint touched his throat.

“Match over.”

The referee declared it like he’d been waiting for that exact moment.

“Hong Ryeonryeon wins.”

At that, the woman beamed, lifted her spear, and the crowd exploded.

—WAAAAAAAH!!!

I listened to the roaring noise, then looked to the side.

It was already the second match. While the crowd’s heat kept rising off the juniors’ rough little performances—

A young man stood beside me with a face so tense it was almost painful.

“Hey. You okay?”

“...!”

I spoke and tapped his shoulder, and he flinched hard.

The one who reacted was Tang Cheon-il.

“Get it together.”

“...Ah. Yes.”

He answered late, but it was just an answer—his condition didn’t change.

‘...Is this guy actually okay?’

No matter how I looked at it, he wasn’t.

Tang Cheon-il looked uniquely bad.

‘Earlier he just seemed pissed.’

Now it wasn’t even anger—his whole body looked frozen with extreme tension.

‘Is he that nervous?’

The guy Tang Cheon-il was about to face.

Black-Grand Saber Peng Dojun.

Maybe because that fight was coming up, Tang Cheon-il looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

And the reason was probably—

‘Because of what happened before.’

I’d heard it was at a previous Dragon-Phoenix Gathering.

That Tang Cheon-il had entered, and Peng Dojun had dropped him in a single blow.

And on top of that—

‘Even when we ran into him this time.’

Black-Grand Saber on the road to Henan—where Main Alliance Headquarters was.

I still remembered Tang Cheon-il taking one hit and ending up on the ground again.

Maybe that was why his reaction looked like this.

As I watched Tang Cheon-il, Yoo Cheongil sighed into his words.

[Too late.]

Too late for what?

[He’s already been eaten by fear. Looks like it’s carved in deep.]

“......”

A fear-engraving.

Helplessness.

That was Tang Cheon-il right now—by Yoo Cheongil’s eyes, and by mine.

‘Mm.’

He’s really screwed.

At this rate, even what could work won’t.

‘Christ.’

Stifling.

I scratched the back of my head.

That line—eaten by fear—hit a nerve.

Because for a moment, it overlapped with someone else.

A not-so-distant past, now dead and gone—Kim Mincheol.

That useless idiot, buried in memories, acting stupid and blank.

“Hey.”

So I did something I wasn’t supposed to do.

“Hey, idiot.”

“...!”

When I called him twice, Tang Cheon-il finally reacted.

“Yes...?”

“Listen. I’m only saying this once.”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to win?”

“......”

“Answer. Do you want to beat Peng Dojun.”

“...!”

Tang Cheon-il’s eyes widened.

No answer came right away. He looked like he was hesitating.

So I just stared at him. I didn’t ask again. I waited.

“...Yes.”

Tang Cheon-il answered.

Hearing it, I let out a long sigh.

“Ugh.”

This is something I really shouldn’t be doing.

And on top of that—

‘If I think about later, this is a card I should be saving.’

Using it on this guy felt like a waste.

But—

‘His ancestor did give me something.’

When I thought about the fortuitous encounter I’d gotten from Poison Sovereign back then, I figured... maybe helping this much was fair.

So I stepped closer and said,

“Listen.”

I leaned in and whispered into his ear.

And the more I spoke, the wider Tang Cheon-il’s eyes got.

Even as I talked, I thought to myself—

‘Will he even believe this?’

And even if he believes it, can he actually pull it off?

I worried about that, but the words were already out.

The choice was Tang Cheon-il’s.

Then, after a little while—

“Next fighters, step up.”

It was Tang Cheon-il and Black-Grand Saber’s turn.

*****

Two young men climbed onto the wide tournament stage.

What should’ve been clean was already covered in marks and damage. They’d only done five matches at most, but the solid stage was already a mess.

That, too, showed the fighters’ level.

At this point, only the handful you could count on one hand among the junior generation remained.

So you could call it a natural result.

But—

“They’re here.”

“Oh... finally...”

Even so, this match was more than enough to pull everyone’s attention.

“A match between the Seven Prodigies.”

A Seven Prodigies match.

Geniuses who stood at the very top of the junior generation.

With their fight about to begin, the crowd’s reaction was at an all-time high—

“...But won’t this be kind of bland again?”

Someone, however, reacted with obvious boredom.

“He couldn’t do anything last time. Will it really be different this time?”

The incident where Poison Dragon Tang Cheon-il lost to Black-Grand Saber in a single blow was famous.

And even back then, the crowd had been thick—plenty of eyes had witnessed it—so there was no way people wouldn’t talk about it now.

“Still, it’s been years. It has to be different, doesn’t it?”

“...Hmm...”

“Poison Dragon might’ve gotten stronger, but Black-Grand Saber wouldn’t have just sat still either.”

There was plenty of interest in a Seven Prodigies match.

But there wasn’t much interest in Poison Dragon himself.

Because of what happened last time, sure—

But also because people believed the gap between the lower and upper ranks of the Seven Prodigies was the difference between heaven and earth.

In that space where the crowd’s assumptions bounced around—

Tang Cheon-il stepped onto the stage with a stiff face.

Huff— huff—

His rough breathing wouldn’t settle.

Neither would his trembling eyes.

Standing there with a body that wouldn’t obey him—

“Tch.”

A tongue click sounded from the front.

“Pathetic.”

Like the attention itself annoyed him, the big young man—

Black-Grand Saber Peng Dojun—kept frowning hard.

“To have to fight a match with no fun and no feeling... it’s ridiculous.”

TUK TUK.

The way he loosened his neck with that huge hand was violently rough.

Then Peng Dojun’s gaze slid onto Tang Cheon-il.

Seeing it, Tang Cheon-il’s face hardened even more.

There was no emotion on his face.

It wasn’t like when he looked at Bang Sungyeon, or Thunder Dragon, or Moon Dancer, or Sword Phoenix.

This was the level of looking at a pebble on the road, or a building.

That’s what Tang Cheon-il was to Black-Grand Saber’s eyes.

“Annoying.”

A lazy tone—like he didn’t even want to do it.

His gaze, his voice, his atmosphere—everything pressed down on Tang Cheon-il.

KGGGGK—!!

Tang Cheon-il gritted his teeth at the feeling.

“...You’re still looking down on me.”

“Still?”

At Tang Cheon-il’s words, Peng Dojun snickered.

“I’ve never once been interested in you to begin with.”

“......”

“That’s something you give to someone who has the right. Not you.”

His pride got shaved away.

And what made it worse was that even after hearing that, he still couldn’t react properly.

“Let’s end it quick. I really hate boring things.”

“...You bastard.”

Just as Tang Cheon-il tried to spit out his fury—

“Ready.”

The referee spoke.

At that, Tang Cheon-il gripped his daggers.

Even then, Black-Grand Saber didn’t draw his saber.

“What are you doing?”

Tang Cheon-il glared and asked, and Black-Grand Saber answered.

“No need to draw it. Why bother? It’s annoying.”

It was total disregard.

“...You...”

Veins rose in Tang Cheon-il’s eyes.

He wanted nothing more than to bury a dagger in that bastard’s throat.

‘I’m—’

I’m not someone who deserves to be ignored like this.

They called him Poison Sovereign’s reincarnation. The Tang Clan’s expectations were piled onto him.

Sure, he knew that expectation itself had only come because his younger sister had yielded it to him—

So it felt like a shackle—

But—

‘I’m Tang Cheon-il.’

Tang Cheon-il intended to turn those false expectations into something real.

It was for his sister—

But it was for himself, too.

“I’ll make you regret it.”

Tang Cheon-il kept dragging his rage higher.

No matter what—this time, no matter what—he had to do it.

No matter what it took, he had to land one solid hit.

That thought kept swelling in his head—

“HEY—!!!”

—!!!

A huge shout slammed into Tang Cheon-il’s ears.

“What...?”

“What the—”

Not just the crowd—everyone around flinched and turned.

All eyes poured onto the one who shouted.

Bang Sungyeon.

Tang Cheon-il, too, looked over in shock at the sudden roar.

“I told you what to do, and you’re still charging like a damn bull! Is your head just for decoration—does it only exist so you can run straight in?”

“......”

“Shit. If that’s what you’re gonna do, just get off the stage. Seriously, you’re pissing me off.”

He looked as irritated as his words sounded. And as Tang Cheon-il met that gaze, his insides sank instantly.

“Ah.”

His head cooled.

Ridiculously, the heat went out of him.

“Hahahahahaha—!!!”

And in the middle of that, Peng Dojun laughed out loud.

It was about as loud as Bang Sungyeon’s shout.

“See? That guy really is fun.”

“......”

A completely different look than the one he gave Tang Cheon-il.

It was unmistakably grating, but—

‘Fwoo...’

This time was different from before.

Tang Cheon-il loosened his stiff body.

He let go of useless strength.

And at the same time—

‘What did he tell me to do again...?’

He pulled up Bang Sungyeon’s words.

The advice Bang Sungyeon had given him when he answered yes—when asked if he wanted to beat Peng Dojun.

At a glance, it was something that made no sense.

Should he really believe ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) it?

He didn’t know.

‘...Doesn’t this sound insane?’

No matter how he thought about it, it did.

And even if he believed it, could he really do it?

And how did Bang Sungyeon say something like that to him with that kind of certainty?

Tang Cheon-il couldn’t understand Bang Sungyeon’s intent.

“......”

He narrowed his eyes.

Distrust filled him.

But—

“Prepare for the match...”

Strangely, strength entered Tang Cheon-il’s eyes.

It was unbelievable advice, but—

For some reason, it felt like he could believe it.

“Hebei Peng Clan Peng Dojun versus Tang Clan (Sichuan) Tang Cheon-il.”

The boiling heat from a moment ago cooled.

The noise that had been roaring went quiet.

“Match.”

Only the referee’s voice remained.

Tang Cheon-il’s eyes sank cold.

Then—

“Begin.”

PA-BA-BAK—!!!

He charged at Peng Dojun fast.

In an instant, his view twisted—and he reached Peng Dojun’s front.

“Hmph.”

Peng Dojun lost interest at the sight.

Same as before. Charging in like an idiot—no different from the first time.

‘As expected.’

A worthless asshole.

Thinking that, he swung a fist wrapped in energy.

KWA—AAAA—!!!!

Debris exploded.

The stage floor shattered under the monstrous impact.

It really was terrifying strength.

But—

“...Hm?”

A strange look slipped into Black-Grand Saber’s eyes.

The fist he threw had smashed the ground—

But it hadn’t swept up anything else.

FSSSS—!!

He pulled his fist from the broken floor, his gaze turning odd.

Then—

“Hey.”

He turned and asked,

“How’d you do that.”

Where Peng Dojun looked, Tang Cheon-il stood with his back turned.

“Haa... haa...”

As Tang Cheon-il steadied himself and turned back—

FWOOSH—!!

Blood burst from Peng Dojun’s chest.

TRICKLE—.

In an instant, blood soaked into his black martial uniform.

“Hah!”

Even while blood ran down him, Peng Dojun laughed like none of it mattered.

“Look at this punk.”

Interest flared in his eyes.