Chapter 207

Chapter 207
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Chapter 207: Baek Heon-so’s Triumph

The Thirty-Six Great Sects of the Central Plains—also referred to as the Heavenly Grade Martial Sects—each received ten Heavenly Grade invitation tokens for every Dragon-Phoenix Gathering. This was a momentous occasion that convened only once each decade, so naturally, no sect would send merely a single representative.

*I have no idea how many tokens the Taiji Sect has lost so far. At most, probably just one or two.*

His reasoning was straightforward: Seong Ju-hun, the Taiji Sect’s young leader, had declared as much himself. He had vowed to show them that there were greater heights beyond what they could see. It was a bold claim, especially coming from someone who did not even belong to the Nine Great Sects or the Five Great Clans.

*He must be riding high on the momentum of his recent string of victories.*

*From the very start, it seems the young sect leader expected me… no, Brother Dang, to step forward and challenge him to a duel.*

That had indeed been the plan—yet instead of his intended opponent, he had faced Baek Heon-so. From the young leader’s perspective, this must have felt like a profound insult. Anger was only natural; whether he was justified in feeling it was another matter entirely.

“So, you must win. There’s no need for doubt, right?”

“…I will do everything in my power!”

He had intentionally placed a measure of pressure on Baek Heon-so. Most people crumbled under the weight of expectation right before a momentous event, their performance faltering from overwhelming tension—but Baek Heon-so was different. His younger brother thrived on being trusted; the more others believed in him, the more fiercely he strove to meet those hopes.

*In his past life, the boy grew warped after all the family’s expectations fell to me instead. But seeing how he has flourished so properly this time proves it was never his nature.*

In this life, Yang-hwi had not simply claimed the family’s hopes—he had achieved such extraordinary feats that even clan head Baek Mu-ryang and chief steward Han Seok-eon placed their full trust and reliance in him. In truth, the sense of being overlooked should have burned even more sharply than it had in his past life, yet Baek Heon-so had never turned bitter. Why? Because the older brother he admired and followed had chosen to place those very expectations directly upon him.

Deep down, Baek Heon-so steeled his resolve.

*Big brother told me to win!*

And win he would! He knew he could! His brother would never ask anything impossible of him!

*Over these past few years, I have trained relentlessly with big brother’s guidance. I am not the same person I was before!*

His brother was a genius without equal, praised unanimously by the most formidable figures across the realm. That someone so extraordinary would devote his time to a younger brother with so much still to learn… He had to show results—if only out of gratitude… no.

*If big brother sees enough worth in me to invest his time, then I must prove that his faith is well-placed!*

Seong Ju-hun was the young leader of the Taiji Sect—the foremost secular branch of Wudang, counted among the Nine Great Sects. Even as a secular branch, it had earned its standing as a Heavenly Grade Martial Sect, placing it among the most elite forces in the entire world.

“Young Sect Leader, might you grant this junior the privilege of striking first?”

Seong Ju-hun was in his early thirties, three years Baek Heon-so’s senior, which technically made him the superior in age.

“Your little brother So has grown rather bold, hasn’t he?”

“Indeed, brother. Addressing him as ‘Senior’ just to claim the right to open the fight.”

“Hardly surprising—he’s spent so long trailing after Brother Hwi.”

“He used to be so timid; I never imagined he would learn to twist words to his advantage like Yang-hwi. Still, there is something endearing about him that makes teasing hard to resist.”

Baek Heon-so remained entirely unaware of the Dang siblings’ quiet exchange. He drew his sword, calling out, “Hya!”

The blade was a masterpiece forged by Baek Cheol, the Baek clan’s brilliant smith, using the White Lotus Pure Steel method and infused with star iron—a rare and precious material Yang-hwi had gone to great lengths to obtain. Yet what moved Baek Heon-so more deeply than the craftsmanship or materials was something far more personal…

“When you step forward as the Baek clan’s rightful heir at the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, you deserve a worthy blade. This could not be more timely—take mine.”

“But what will you use, brother…?”

“The Dragon-Phoenix Gathering is nothing to me; I could fight well enough with a simple branch, little one.”

This sword, then, was the very one his brother had wielded until recently, when he had passed it down. He had been acknowledged; he, Baek Heon-so, had proven himself worthy to carry his brother’s sword! On the day he received it, he had skipped his training session to meditate at length before giving it a name: Gonghwi—Shared Radiance. He had earned a sharp rebuke when he first called it Sung-hwi—Exalted Radiance—and had chosen the new name in its place.

*Who am I? I am Baek Heon-so, the one and only younger brother to Baek Yang-hwi, the greatest genius under heaven!*

He pushed aside thoughts of Chudal, for whom he usually felt a mix of friendly rivalry and envy, and focused his will entirely on the gleaming edge of the Gonghwi Sword. Seong Ju-hun, growing impatient, finally spoke.

“Are you going to stand there all day?”

“My apologies, Young Sect Leader.”

After a quick bow, Baek Heon-so settled into his stance and directed his focus toward the weak points in his opponent’s posture. A low, thrumming resonance rose from his energy channels, like the roar of a great river in flood. His internal energy was as rich and robust as a ginseng root grown for centuries—dense, solid, and vast.

This profound change had begun when they discovered the elixir fields in Sichuan Province.

“B-brother! If you pour so much into me, won’t I be torn apart? I’m going to burst!”

“So-ya, a body properly strengthened can hold far greater and thicker energy than this.”

*Ah, he means it will stretch, not tear.*

Over the last three years, Baek Heon-so had consumed elixirs totaling ten jia, even on an empty stomach. Had his body not been able to absorb every trace of that power, the strain would have shattered him.

*I would have been beaten within an inch of my life—except brother personally guided every thread of my meridians himself.*

His jaw tightened at the memory. No matter how deeply he respected and trusted Yang-hwi, the pain of that process was more than flesh should have been able to bear.

“So-ya, you can endure this. You are my brother.”

“…Brother, you truly believe that much in me? Very well! I will not fail!”

“Brother, I don’t want to be the little brother anymore! Please, can’t we stop?”

“Chudal, hold on if you value your life.”

“That’s favoritism! It’s not fair!”

Yet with his brother’s encouragement, he had endured. And in the end, he had succeeded in filling himself with as much internal energy as his body and progress could possibly hold.

*With this full jia of energy flowing through me, I will never lose to someone barely past their twenties!*

To possess a full jia of internal energy at such an age was something that would draw stunned praise from even the most prestigious clans. Great reserves of power came not from practicing the highest arts or consuming the rarest elixirs alone—without a perfectly conditioned body and masterful control, no amount of meditation or treasure could have anchored that energy in his dantian.

“Hah!”

He struck, his blow targeting vital points in perfect accordance with the Heaven-Covering 108 Swords. His footwork shifted with subtle, precise grace, guided by the Heavenly Ghost Steps. Seong Ju-hun started and threw up his blade to deflect the strike.

“Opening!”

Baek Heon-so pressed the advantage instantly, driving forward with such ferocity that Seong Ju-hun was forced to retreat more than a dozen paces. Victory was within his grasp—yet he pulled his blade back and leaped clear instead.

“You granted me the first move, Senior, and I have made it. Now, I would see what you can do.”

Winning was important, but if he could win with honor, he could gain something far more valuable. Guided by the principles Yang-hwi always taught, he would use this duel not just to triumph, but to grow.

Seong Ju-hun fell silent, the muscles along his jaw tightening visibly. His pride had been dealt a heavy blow.

“Our sect’s signature style is the Twin Reversal Taiji Six Flows. Let me demonstrate one of its forms.”

“I look forward to it!”

Whether he sought to regain his composure or overwhelm his opponent, Seong Ju-hun’s next attack was fierce and unrelenting—yet Baek Heon-so met every strike with ease, his eyes bright and alert. Watching from the sidelines, Yang-hwi’s group spoke quietly among themselves.

“Look at him—little brother So has improved so incredibly fast.”

“He has always been gifted. He has simply worked harder than anyone to make the most of it.”

As Yang-hwi spoke with Jeon Yeon-ha, he realized something was missing. Ordinarily, someone would have teased him, saying, *Are you just saying this so I’ll praise you?*

*Ah, of course.*

The Dang siblings were watching something else entirely—something beyond Baek Heon-so’s skill.

“He really is so much like Brother Hwi, isn’t he?”

“You’re right. He means no harm by it, there is no malice in him—but every word he says strikes exactly where it hurts most.”

They looked from Jeon Yeon-ha to Baek Heon-so, and finally settled their gazes on Yang-hwi. Neither had been this observant or this thoughtful in the beginning… but that was true for all of them. One thing was certain beyond doubt:

“That Heavenly Grade token is as good as ours.”

“Agreed. We still need one more, but it will not come from the Taiji Sect.”

“If one of their disciples had fought So first, and then Brother Hwi had faced their young leader, we might have claimed two. That opportunity is gone now.”

Even desperate numbers would not lead the Taiji Sect to gamble all their Heavenly Grade tokens on duels. They would never risk the future of their most promising young disciples. This, then, would be their only contest against the sect—and the Taiji Sect would carry the shame of this defeat for a very long time.

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“Have you heard the news?”

“About the Taiji Sect?”

“That’s right—word is their young leader lost to a boy from some tiny clan on the border!”

“Impossible! How could the Taiji Sect, rising so high, fall so far?”

“They may call themselves a Great Clan now, but they are still from Jiangnan—from Jiangxi, of all places.”

In a fine inn where the walls were meant to keep conversations private, those with advanced cultivation could still hear what was said in the next room.

“Kekekeke!”

“Kekekeke!”

Two voices laughed in perfect unison, eerily similar in tone. The culprits were Yang-hwi and Jeon Yeon-ha. Yang-hwi might have expected it, but seeing Jeon Yeon-ha laughing so freely…

*I may have misjudged the Jeon clan.*

*Though spending too much time with Brother Yang-hwi would affect anyone’s disposition.*

Regardless, the two laughed like old friends.

“Yeon-ha, did you see his face? He was so certain he would win.”

“The Taiji Sect’s pride has been flattened completely! They issued open challenges, convinced no one from the younger generation would dare stand against them!”

“This will disrupt Wudang’s plans, won’t it?”

“It is a great relief to my people, at the very least!”

That was exactly why they had stepped forward and sent Baek Heon-so into the duel—they meant to humble the Taiji Sect, and through that humiliation, discern Wudang’s intentions. Wudang was one of the Nine Great Sects, with influence reaching everywhere. Given their troubled history and ties to the Dark Hounds, anticipating their moves was essential.

“There is no gain in waiting to see what they do. Strike first, and you decide the path they must take.”

“Relations may suffer for it! But our clans were never meant to be allies anyway!”

“Kekeke! Well done, So-ya!”

“Kekeke! Little brother So has done us a great service today!”

The Dang siblings exchanged glances. Ordinarily, Baek Heon-so would have spoken up to moderate their celebration—but now he simply beamed, delighted by their praise. It was moments like this that made them notice someone was missing.

“Wait—where is Chudal?”

“You’re right. He’s not here.”

None of them had realized he was gone. In three years, it seemed more had changed than just Baek Heon-so’s strength. Just then, Chudal slipped through the window as easily as if it were a door.

“I’m back.”

“Welcome back! Did you learn anything useful?”

“Plenty. It was quite entertaining, actually.”

Dang Gun sensed something unspoken and asked quickly, “Where have you been?”

“I went to the Taiji Sect and read some papers.”

Documents kept in another sect were always one of two things: secret martial arts manuals, or letters meant only for their own eyes.

“So you are saying… you went into their grounds and…?”

“I went into Wudang’s secular branch and gathered information.” Chudal shrugged casually. “It is still a Daoist temple, after all. I simply posed as a visitor paying respects and had a look around.”
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