Chapter 41

Chapter 41
## Martial Arts Tournament (2)

“Was he the one suggested by your relative?”

Ha Hoo On, the leader of the Ha Hoo Clan, questioned his companion while taking a sip of his brew.

“Indeed. That was the requirement for allowing Yeon to participate.”

Ha Hoo On struggled to mask his astonishment at the response from Ha Hoo Seung.

“I never suspected it would be a candidate from your uncle. Have you identified him yet?”

“Our elder kin cautioned me against playing games, so I refrained from any investigation.”

“A wise decision. There is no point in irritating him and inviting unnecessary trouble.”

“Regardless, it is a stroke of luck. Yeon performed admirably, but the arrival of that Black Wolf individual has completely dismantled the strategy of the Five Great Clans.”

Ha Hoo On gestured with a nod as he rested his cup, a grin forming on his face.

“So, your assessment is that Yeon cannot defeat that Namgung Hak boy.”

“Bluntly, yes. I am well-aware of Yeon’s capabilities, but even her victory over the Paeng Family representative was an uncertainty.”

“Quite right. That Paeng Family warrior was formidable to my eyes as well. And yet, Yeon emerged victorious.”

A look of satisfaction spread across the face of Ha Hoo On.

The rush of excitement he felt the moment Ha Hoo Yeon executed the Nine Dragons Strike to topple her foe was still fresh in his mind.

“However, Namgung Hak exists on another level.”

“On another level?”

“Yes. It is impossible for Yeon to overcome Namgung Hak.”

Ha Hoo On remained largely silent. He was aware of the truth, even if he was loath to vocalize it.

“Would it not be prudent to have her withdraw, as per the typical protocol?”

Ha Hoo On offered a pained smile and shook his head at the suggestion from Ha Hoo Seung.

“Conceding only maintains dignity when the world believes our disciple has a genuine path to victory. But look at the current field. Not just Namgung Hak, but that Black Wolf and the Tang Clan contender possess terrifying talent. No spectator believes Yeon will claim the crown. You don’t either, do you? To withdraw now would only draw the public’s scorn and stain the honor of our clan.”

“The bout with Namgung Hak is a certain defeat.”

“It is far more honorable to face the storm and be broken than to run like a coward. Furthermore, he is the scion of the Sword Saint, is he not? Falling to him carries no true shame. If she puts up a valiant fight, it might actually enhance our reputation. The prestige of the Sword Saint is unparalleled, transcending any specific sect or family.”

While the expression of Ha Hoo Seung grew increasingly grim, Ha Hoo On let out a hearty laugh.

“Do not let it weigh on you too heavily. Even if Yeon falls, I highly doubt that Namgung Hak youth will walk away with the trophy.”

“Are you suggesting, Father, that you believe the Black Wolf can best Namgung Hak?”

“Without a doubt. Did you not witness it? The effortless dominance he displayed while toyed with the combatant from the Young Ho Clan.”

“That may be so, but…”

Ha Hoo Seung conceded to his father’s point to a degree, though his eyes betrayed his skepticism.

The data he had gathered regarding Namgung Hak left an impression of overwhelming power.

“This is a recommendation from the Sword Ghost, a figure whose reputation rivals that of the Sword Saint. If your uncle put his name behind him, there is surely a compelling reason.”

Ha Hoo On picked up his tea with a relaxed air.

Unlike the restless Ha Hoo Seung, his confidence in Ha Hoo Gok was unshakable.

—

Following a brief intermission of roughly half a shichen, the duel between Namgung Hak and Ha Hoo Yeon commenced.

As a meeting of top-tier talents, the arbiters, distinguished veterans from various schools, and the massive crowd watched with bated breath—and as anticipated, the fight proved more intense than any prior engagement.

[Who is your pick for the winner?]
Cheol Woo walked over to the area where Sima Geon was waiting and sent a mental message.

[Namgung Hak.]

[Truly? That Ha Hoo Yeon girl seemed quite capable earlier.]

[Did you fail to watch the match of Namgung Hak?]

[It had concluded by the time I got here. I only caught the final two: the Tang Clan fellow who is slated to fight the captain, and the victory for the Ha Hoo Clan child. Still, as the captain noted, that young brat seems remarkably composed.]

A flicker of light crossed the eyes of Cheol Woo.

Unlike Ha Hoo Yeon, who was clearly exhausting her reserves, he recognized that Namgung Hak was carefully measuring his output.

[The captain’s upcoming foe is the Tang Clan representative, correct?]

[Yes.]

[The captain should stay alert, shouldn’t he? That guy seemed to be holding back a great deal earlier. And everyone knows the reputation of the Tang Clan hidden weapons. Heh heh heh!]

[…….]

[Forgive me.]

Cheol Woo offered a swift retraction.

Receiving no word from Sima Geon, he pulled a face of pure misery. His already intimidating features twisted further, prompting bystanders to cast nervous looks and distance themselves.

“Waaaaah!”

Before Cheol Woo could offer another apology, a thunderous roar swept through the stands.

Turning toward the platform, they observed Ha Hoo Yeon lying unconscious, a sharp contrast to Namgung Hak, who stood upright, absorbing the adulation of the masses.

“I expected him to draw it out, but he finished it faster than I thought. Go ahead, bask in it. It’s the last time you’ll get to.”

Cheol Woo gave a slight scoff at the sight of the prideful Namgung Hak enjoying the spotlight, then glanced at Sima Geon. However, Sima Geon was already making his way toward the stage.

“Tsk tsk, may you find peace. Now I’m starting to feel a bit guilty for no reason.”

Cheol Woo looked with a touch of pity at Tang Cheol Yeong, who was approaching from the far side.

He suspected his reckless commentary might have inadvertently spelled disaster for Tang Cheol Yeong.

With a formal bow, the fight between Sima Geon and Tang Cheol Yeong began, sparked by an opening attack from the latter.

He was acutely aware of what had befallen those who trivialized Sima Geon, and during the hiatus, his clan’s senior members had issued a stern command: this was a dangerous opponent—use maximum force immediately.

The twelve projectiles launched by Tang Cheol Yeong moved with a fluid, predatory grace, homing in on Sima Geon.

The blade of Sima Geon moved with deceptive slowness.

For the first time, the steel that had previously only surged forward moved in a wide arc. It wasn’t a complex transition—just a basic sweep from left to right, as if clearing away tall grass.

It was the incredibly standard Horizontal Sweep of a Thousand Armies from the Fifteen Sword Forms.

Despite the grandiosity of its name—implying the clearing of a legion in a single stroke—it was common knowledge that the form lacked such actual power.

“Arrogant brat!”

Tang Ha Gyo, the Broad Heaven Poison Hand veteran of the Tang Clan seated in the stands, made no effort to hide his anger.

Doubts rippled through the audience as well. However, because Sima Geon had achieved his winning streak using nothing but these elementary techniques, they watched with intense focus, nursing a small flame of anticipation.

Sima Geon did not disappoint.

Clang clang clang!

With piercing rings of metal on metal, the projectiles directed at Sima Geon were knocked away in every direction.

As his blade swept back the other way, the remaining needles were similarly deflected.

The projectiles, now spinning out of control after striking the sword of Sima Geon, left a look of sheer alarm on the face of Tang Cheol Yeong.

Having neutralized the missile threat with the Horizontal Sweep of a Thousand Armies, Sima Geon lunged straight ahead.

It was the same Fifteen Sword Form that had previously neutralized No Su and Yeong Ho Gyeol.

Sensing immediate peril, Tang Cheol Yeong reacted instantly.

He employed the signature mobility of the Tang Clan: Gazing at Clouds and Moon Step.

It was a graceful movement resembling a casual walk under the moon, the epitome of the “slow is fast” philosophy—slippery, deep, and always a hair’s breadth away from being caught.

Yet the relentless push from Sima Geon seemed to swallow the technique whole.

‘T-This can’t be!’

Tang Cheol Yeong, who had absolute confidence in the efficacy of the Gazing at Clouds and Moon Step, turned pale as he realized he could not distance himself from Sima Geon.

Observing from the edge of the stage, Tang Ha Gyo ground his teeth.

“Useless! Why show the adversary such a terrified face?”

As the Tang Clan subordinates cringed, barely moving under the weight of the fury of Tang Ha Gyo, Tang Cheol Yeong—who had been scrambling—finally prepared a countermove.

When his left hand slipped into the folds of his garment, the crowd assumed he would deploy the Swallow Tail Golden Needle, the weapon that had been instrumental in taking down the Evil Sword User.

The Swallow Tail Golden Needle was as fine as a strand of hair, allowing one to carry and throw a massive quantity at once.

The sight of a cloud of nearly invisible gold needles was overwhelming. Even the Evil Sword User, a fierce combatant, had lost his rhythm against them and was eventually defeated.

But what Tang Cheol Yeong produced was not the needle.

It was a sturdy cylinder, roughly an inch wide and the length of a palm.

The energy coming from it was dark and threatening.

Tang Ha Gyo stood up abruptly, shocked to see the cylinder in the grip of Tang Cheol Yeong.

“W-Why is he using that…?”

Having identified the device, Tang Ha Gyo’s voice trailed off.

The other Tang Clan members, realizing the situation a moment later, had the same shocked reaction.

Before the spectators could register the panic within the Tang Clan, Tang Cheol Yeong leveled the cylinder at Sima Geon.

“Stop!”

A scream-like command tore through the air as Tang Ha Gyo lunged toward the platform.

But the window had closed.

By the time Tang Ha Gyo moved, Tang Cheol Yeong had already channeled his internal force into the cylinder. It burst with a sharp crack, firing three needles toward Sima Geon with explosive velocity.

💥 Exploding Thunder Rain 💥
Occupying the 9th spot among the Tang Clan’s Ten Great Hidden Weapons.

Though smaller than the Swallow Tail Golden Needle, it was launched with a mechanical force that provided incomparable piercing power. It was engineered specifically to shatter internal energy shields.

The gap between Sima Geon and Tang Cheol Yeong was less than a zhang.

In a heartbeat, that tiny distance was filled by the three needles erupting from the device.

They traveled like bolts of lightning.

Regardless of one’s level of martial mastery, evading every needle of the Exploding Thunder Rain fired at such close range was fundamentally impossible.

In that split second of crisis, Sima Geon was already leaping backward while snapping his sleeve.

Applying the Heavenly Net Hand through the Plucking Flowers While Riding a Horse method, he managed to catch the lethal needles within the fabric of his sleeve.

As he landed and turned, a cold, murderous light filled the eyes of Sima Geon.

He was unfamiliar with the weapon’s name. But it was a masterwork of assassination, the likes of which he had rarely seen even on the bloodiest battlegrounds.

It was a tool designed purely for ending a life.

It was not something to be used for the sake of a sport.

“Moron. He’s finished.”

Cheol Woo, realizing what Tang Cheol Yeong had done with his sharp intuition, gave a cold smile.

He had softened since returning to his roots and his kin, but the Sima Geon he remembered did not show mercy to those who attempted to kill him. He fully expected the death of Tang Cheol Yeong, and Sima Geon had no desire to grant forgiveness.

Sima Geon whipped his arm out, sending the needles—still caught in his sleeve—hurtling back toward Tang Cheol Yeong.

Tang Cheol Yeong stood frozen.

It wasn’t that the needles redirected by Sima Geon were moving too fast to see.

Rather, seeing his ultimate attack brushed aside by a Horizontal Sweep of a Thousand Armies, followed by the pressure of a basic technique any novice knew, had completely broken the spirit of Tang Cheol Yeong.

He had lost his composure and crossed a line that should never be crossed.

Hearing the shout of Tang Ha Gyo, he realized the gravity of his mistake—but the Exploding Thunder Rain had already been released with lethal intent.

Tang Cheol Yeong shut his eyes as the needles came screaming back.

He prepared for the end.

‘I must win this contest.’

Sima Geon bit his lip hard.

The cardinal rule of the event—no killing, regardless of the provocation—is what saved the life of Tang Cheol Yeong.

Sima Geon shifted his arm with a look of irritation.

The needles, suddenly redirected, buried themselves deep in the floorboards right at the feet of Tang Cheol Yeong.

As Tang Cheol Yeong opened his eyes in a daze, Sima Geon was already on top of him, seizing his collar. At that same moment, his foot swept the legs of Tang Cheol Yeong out from under him.

Crack!

The sickening sound of bone snapping echoed through the arena, and Tang Cheol Yeong’s face contorted in a silent scream. Sima Geon held his collar so tightly that no sound could leave his throat.

Tang Cheol Yeong instinctively threw a punch to try and free himself.

It was a fatal error in judgment.

Restricted by the rules from taking the life of Tang Cheol Yeong, Sima Geon seized the opportunity presented by the desperate counterattack.

Crack!

Another stomach-turning sound followed, and the arm Tang Cheol Yeong had used to strike was twisted into a grotesque, unnatural position.

“Desist! That is enough!”

Terrified that Sima Geon might actually kill Tang Cheol Yeong, Ha Hoo Gok yelled out an urgent command.