Chapter 212

The Seven Prodigies’ match ended. Tang Cheon-il and Peng Dojun’s fight ended with Peng Dojun’s victory, but—

the aftermath didn’t end as “just the end of a match.”

—The Tang Clan restored Myriad-Flowers Rain.

The century-grade ultimate art everyone said the Tang Clan had lost.

That secret art that had shown terrifying firepower across countless wars, including the Orthodox-Demonic War—

it had burst out from the Poison Dragon’s hands.

That fact alone had everyone showing shock.

That was the value restoration carried.

And talk about the Poison Dragon—who’d displayed it in an actual match—was exploding in every direction.

—The Seven Prodigies’ Poison Dragon pushed the Black-Grand Saber back.

—The growth of the Poison Dragon, once called lower-ranked.

And so on.

The moment the match ended, piles of ridiculous chatter started bouncing around.

But listening to it—

‘...Is that really right?’

A question came up: are they really okay saying it like that?

‘There’s no way the people who saw it don’t know.’

It wasn’t like the spectators were blind. There was no way they didn’t know Peng Dojun had let the Poison Dragon off the hook again and again.

In reality, he didn’t even draw his saber until the very end, and even then he didn’t properly show his martial arts.

‘What was it?’

The martial art he’d been about to use back then.

It was something I didn’t know.

‘Yoo Cheongil called it Black Cloud.’

A martial art called Black Cloud.

What did it mean? What kind of effect did it have?

‘...At the very least.’

It wasn’t among the Peng Clan’s martial arts I’d identified.

Which meant—

‘An unrevealed secret art.’

A Peng Clan secret art the world didn’t know about.

‘Tch.’

I swallowed a sound. And that wasn’t even the only problem.

‘...He’s too strong.’

Peng Dojun himself was a problem, too. He was far stronger than I’d expected.

Little Azure Sword was often evaluated as being about even with the Seven Prodigies.

And honestly, that wasn’t really wrong. From my perspective—having faced Cloud Dragon—there wasn’t a huge difference between Little Azure Sword and Cloud Dragon.

Which meant Little Azure Sword could pass him if he got just a bit stronger and Cloud Dragon’s growth slowed.

But—

‘Not the Black-Grand Saber.’

The ones people called the upper tier of the Seven Prodigies were different.

Compared to Cloud Dragon, the gap was obvious.

Sure, the only other “upper-tier” I’d actually been up against was Cheon Hyein, but—

‘...Even just counting that—’

It wasn’t that Cheon Hyein was weak. She just couldn’t show real power against Baek Cheonin.

And looking at Peng Dojun now, I was sure.

‘Yoo Cheongil would like him.’

What did he say again? Something about the Blade God’s bloodline luck being absurd.

Whatever it was, the point was: even to Yoo Cheongil’s eyes, Peng Dojun had ridiculous potential.

And even without that—

‘You can tell just by looking.’

In his match with Tang Cheon-il, I’d recognized the Black-Grand Saber’s strength clearly.

‘That guy was basically insane...’

The more he got hit.

The more he got wounded—

the more he smiled.

‘Is he seriously a pervert?’

Yeah.

He really was a perverted bastard.

Peng Dojun was definitely a pervert.

‘Tch.’

I scratched my head. Peng Dojun felt like he was getting farther and farther away as a thing I could deal with.

I just didn’t want to get tangled up with him.

And while that was all I could think—

“Guh....”

A groan came from in front of me.

Tang Cheon-il.

He opened his eyes, spilling out a pained sound.

“You up?”

When I asked, Tang Cheon-il looked at me through half-lidded eyes.

“What... Kuhek!”

Mid-sentence, Tang Cheon-il clutched his chest.

The way he grabbed at it, it looked like it hurt like hell.

“Uuugh....”

Don’t move. The Head Physician said you need to stop acting up and recover for a month or two.

“......Guh....”

Right after I said it, Tang Cheon-il started lifting his upper body.

“Hah... haah.”

“I said don’t get up.”

You seriously don’t listen for shit.

“Um....”

As I stood there frowning, Tang Cheon-il asked me something.

“Did I... lose...?”

The way he asked weakly was kind of funny.

I heard it, snickered, and answered him.

“You lost. Miserably.”

“.......”

“You thought you’d win?”

“.......”

No answer.

But I could tell what he was thinking from his expression.

“If you thought you’d win, you should’ve charged harder. I told you. Don’t hesitate. And in that situation, you couldn’t afford to drag time.”

“.......”

He was wrapped up in bandages and getting more and more gloomy.

Ah.

I hadn’t been trying to say things like that.

I scratched my head, awkward, then pulled out something else.

“The Black-Grand Saber told me to pass something on.”

At the mention of the Black-Grand Saber, Tang Cheon-il looked at me with eyes holding something odd.

“He said it was fun.”

“......Ha.”

Fun. After a bloodbath like that, that was all he had to say?

Tang Cheon-il looked dumbfounded—

but then—

“......Annoying.”

Even while saying that, he lifted the corner of his mouth slightly.

What the hell is that reaction?

It made me feel weirdly irritated. Is it because Tang Cheon-il looks vicious by default?

Could be.

Either way, I left the aching, wheezing Tang Cheon-il behind and stood up.

“Treatment’s basically done, but don’t act like an idiot and just lie there quietly. It’s going to take more time. Ah—if you want, want me to contact the Tang Clan?”

He was still direct blood, after all.

Even if the heir apparent was already decided, Tang Cheon-il was still a descendant of a prestigious family. It felt like reporting an injury would be the proper thing.

‘Besides, it’s ridiculous they didn’t send a single person from the Tang Clan to the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering.’

They were sending someone to something this huge and didn’t send a single support person.

The Poison King’s choice was just baffling.

‘Seriously...’

What the hell.

I was about to move, thinking that—

“...Are you going?”

Tang Cheon-il asked me.

“Yeah. I have to. Matches are still going.”

Where I was, was the medical unit inside Main Alliance Headquarters.

After a match, if you wanted Tang Cheon-il treated while he was rattling around like that, you had to stop here.

Which meant I had to carry that heavy bastard here.

My shoulders were stiff as hell.

‘Feels like it’s going to be my turn soon.’

Maybe not yet. But I still had to go.

There was nothing good about being late.

I moved with that thought—

and then—

“Do your best.”

“......Huh?”

Tang Cheon-il suddenly cheered me on.

I stared at him like I couldn’t believe it, and he immediately dodged my eyes.

‘What is with this bastard?’

What is this disgusting nonsense?

I looked at him with a face full of revulsion, and Tang Cheon-il’s face didn’t look much better.

He looked like he regretted saying it the instant it left his mouth.

“Ha.”

What a funny # Nоvеlight # bastard.

I let out a small laugh and said—

“We’ll see.”

Whether I’d “do my best,” I’d think about it.

With that, I walked away.

‘My strength, huh.’

Even if he hadn’t said it, I was planning to put some out there at least once.

*****

—WAAAAAA!

The moment I got back, cheers flooded my ears.

Looks like another match ended.

I scanned the tournament stage, then realized something a beat too late.

The person coming down was someone I knew.

“Senior.”

“...Mm.”

Do Hyeong.

He was coming down from the stage with his usual blunt eyes.

‘Ah. Right.’

Do Hyeong had a match in the middle.

I’d forgotten while dealing with Tang Cheon-il.

“You win?”

“Mm.”

Do Hyeong nodded. Looks like he won, thankfully.

‘...Damn.’

That’s impressive.

I knew Do Hyeong was strong, but just looking at his condition, I could tell it was more than I’d thought.

‘His clothes aren’t even scuffed.’

He hadn’t taken a single hit.

If the opponent made it this far, they had to be a serious powerhouse. And even then, Do Hyeong looked like that.

‘Do Hyeong might be even stronger than I expected.’

Well. He’d never actually shown his real strength.

‘And the guardian spirit’s still shining.’

I’d thought of him as just—

a guy who had a guardian spirit with him.

That was it.

But after these matches, my view was changing.

“Good work.”

“Mm.”

Tap.

As he passed me, Do Hyeong put a hand on my shoulder.

“Hang in there.”

“Ah... yes.”

It was the kind of line that made me think of, Go suffer for me.

He said it and walked on.

His body looked fine, but he looked visibly tired.

‘He’ll be fine.’

I nodded while looking at the guardian spirit moving around him.

The light was strong.

Its power as a guardian spirit was still definitely mountain-spirit class.

But—

‘...That guardian spirit is weird.’

Compared to what I knew, its power was strong and its light was strong, but it had never actually shown “guardian spirit efficiency.”

Even back in Sichuan.

‘I tried to lean on that guardian spirit, and I suffered for it.’

If not for Yoo Cheongil, we would’ve all been wiped out on the spot.

Even then, the guardian spirit just stayed still.

A guardian spirit’s habit—its lingering regret—was supposed to be to protect the one beside it with everything it had.

But—

‘That one doesn’t feel like that.’

It wasn’t like that.

No matter what happened to Do Hyeong, it felt like it just watched.

How could a guardian spirit be like that?

Unless—

‘...Is it because of Yoo Cheongil?’

Maybe the guardian spirit decided it was fine because Yoo Cheongil was there.

But that was still just a guess.

‘Hmph.’

Someday, I needed to figure that out too.

Something about it bothered me.

And as I watched Do Hyeong’s guardian spirit—

—Next fighters, come up!

At the referee’s words, I turned my head.

—Bang Clan of Liaoning’s Bang Sungyeon and Namgung Clan’s Namgung Cheon. Prepare for the match.

It was my turn.

*****

By now, climbing onto the tournament stage was already familiar.

I steadied myself and slowly cycled my breathing.

The pouring gazes still weren’t something I was used to, but I forced myself to act like it was fine.

I tried to erase thoughts, to make myself numb instead—

and then—

“Haha.”

A bright laugh came from the front.

“Finally, we meet.”

Thunder Dragon Namgung Cheon.

He was smiling at me.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment. I thought my neck was going to snap from waiting.”

“......You didn’t need to wait that hard.”

“Hey, how could I not?”

Namgung Cheon’s smile vanished, and a sharp expression settled over his face.

“I’m seeing the Little Sword Saint himself.”

“Mm....”

That expression was vicious.

He was handsome, but those cold eyes kept flipping the atmosphere on a dime.

“And I’ve got a lot riding on this fight, so I had to make it happen.”

‘A lot riding on it?’

That strange line made me narrow my eyes.

“Because of your bet with the Black-Grand Saber?”

That stupid bet where you stake your cherished weapons.

When I asked if that was what he meant—

“Oh. Right. That too.”

“......?”

Namgung Cheon reacted like he’d only just remembered.

What?

“So it wasn’t that?”

“Well, it’s not like it wasn’t, but....”

As Namgung Cheon hesitated—

the referee’s voice overlapped.

—Ready.

At that, Namgung Cheon and I drew our swords at the same time.

SHIIIING—!

Even while I drew my sword and prepared my stance, Namgung Cheon didn’t stop talking.

“There’s something bigger on the line. And even if there wasn’t—”

Power rose in his eyes.

And then—

—Namgung Clan’s Namgung Cheon versus Bang Clan of Liaoning’s Bang Sungyeon.

“The most important thing is this—how much I’ve been longing for this match.”

With Namgung Cheon’s deep smile—

—Begin.

RUMBLE—!!

Thunder exploded across the clear sky.