Chapter 224

Chapter 224
# Chapter 224
## Chapter 224: Provocation and Instant Victory

“Gangseo’s Baek Clan… traced its roots all the way to Mount Hua?”

Okcheong stared at him, completely stunned, and Yang-hwi offered a broad grin.

“That’s right. Otherwise, how would our sword principles match so closely?”

In truth, the real reason was that they had trained side by side in his past life.

Back then, Yang-hwi and Okcheong had shared so much, especially when it came to the martial arts. Both possessed gifts far beyond the ordinary, and they carried the same cherished dream: to revive those martial techniques lost to the ages.

And that part, at least, was no lie.

They had poured endless effort into restoring the Heaven-Covering Three Swords—all that remained of a forgotten art—expanding it into the complete Heaven-Covering 108 Swords. And in the course of that work, they had uncovered the truth. The founding ancestor of the Baek Clan had inherited a broken lineage descending from Mount Hua’s secular branch. Since both lineages sprang from the same source, it was only natural that their perfected techniques bore such striking similarities.

“This… is beyond belief. I never had the slightest idea.”

There was no hard proof, nothing but words hanging in the air. Yet Okcheong found himself thinking: *The sword never lies.*

Hundreds, thousands of white feathers swirled like a flock of birds, meeting and clashing against the plum blossom techniques Okcheong had unleashed before fading away. This was no mere surface resemblance—the fundamental principles aligned perfectly. Someone from Mount Hua’s past might have studied its arts and developed a similar style, but that seemed highly unlikely. It was the most plausible explanation anyone could offer, and weighing every possibility, Yang-hwi’s account rang true.

“I see. A bond severed centuries ago, and no one ever knew.”

“Now do you believe me? That I have no ties to the Blood Cult?”

*The sword never lies.* Once again, Okcheong nodded.

“There were reasons to be suspicious, but you bear no mark of them. I ask your forgiveness!”

His apology was straightforward, offered without hesitation, and Yang-hwi could not help but smile. Under other circumstances, he might have insisted that some form of compensation was due for such mistrust.

“I am glad this misunderstanding is laid to rest, Brother Okcheong.”

“Hahaha! When I traveled through Jianghu, I learned the Blood Cult had set its sights on the Baek Clan, and then all these recent events unfolded—how could I not grow suspicious? Truly, I am sorry!”

So that was where the doubt had come from. There was no question that the Blood Cult was indeed plotting to turn the Baek Clan into their puppets. But how had Okcheong come to know so much about them? When Yang-hwi asked, his expression grew solemn.

“Mount Hua… could not simply turn a blind eye to the Blood Cult.”

What did he mean by that? This was information he had never encountered in his former life.

“Pardon me? Could you explain further?”

“Another time! When the moment is right!”

“Then may I ask something else?”

“By all means.”

“Will you also be taking part in the Dragon-Phoenix Rivalry, Brother Okcheong?”

Okcheong answered as if the answer were self-evident.

“I am Okcheong, disciple of Mount Hua! For the honor of my sect, is there anything I would not do? I train day and night, that I may claim the title of Top Dragon!”

In his past life, Okcheong had spoken of fame as something empty and worthless. But so much had changed since then. Perhaps learning that Hyun-geom and Adu were entering the contest had shifted his perspective. Even now, with all doubt cleared away, the way he continued to drive himself with sword in hand showed that his habit of seeking out skilled companions to measure himself against had never faded.

“Then we shall be rivals.”

“Haha! So it seems we will!”

Once more, Yang-hwi found himself struck by how much had shifted. In this very period of his former life, he had been the one learning unilaterally from Okcheong—though Okcheong had always called it mutual instruction, one sword teaching another. *In this life, I will repay all that you gave me, Brother Okcheong.*

“Rivals learn from one another, do they not? We have already crossed blades—come, let us share a drink.”

He had expected an eager acceptance, but Okcheong shook his head.

“I would gladly, yet something urgent has come up. I must depart at once!”

With that, he invoked his lightness skill and vanished from sight. Left standing alone, Yang-hwi scratched the back of his head, looking somewhat abashed.

“Ever as impulsive as ever, Brother Okcheong.”

He does not yet trust me fully. And why would he, with all the politics and intrigue within the sects to weigh? It matters not. Now that he knows the Heaven-Covering Sword and the Plum Blossom Sword spring from the same principles, he will be the one to seek me out again.

—

Down on the tavern’s ground floor, a man drained his cup in a single draught and set it down hard on the table.

“Ah! The Dragon-Phoenix Rivalry is always a magnificent sight, no matter how many times you witness it!”

That day had brought a stunning upset in the preliminary rounds: a lone wanderer had soundly defeated a disciple from a heavenly-grade sect, earning himself a place in the main competition. His companion laughed heartily in agreement.

“That one called Nanghon, was it? His skill was no mere pretense!”

“Exactly! And his opponent was widely tipped to advance without difficulty!”

“That fellow was boasting he would rise to the top on merit alone, with no special vouchers from high-ranking sects. I imagine he is kicking himself in shame now!”

“Still, it makes for a wonderful story over drinks! Ha ha!”

The preliminaries were over, and the full list of those advancing to the main round was confirmed. Naturally, their conversation turned to what lay ahead.

“I cannot help but wonder—what will the main competition be like?”

They say the true Dragon-Phoenix Rivalry only truly begins once this stage arrives. Everyone who had qualified was either a disciple of some renowned sect or a powerhouse who had fought their way through grueling trials—every single match promised to be spectacular.

“Who do you suppose will be the first to fall?”

“That is what I am curious about. Whoever it is, it will be utterly humiliating.”

The two men exchanged a look and spoke in unison.

“The Heaven-Covering Sword Dragon, surely?”

“It has to be the Heaven-Covering Sword Dragon, does it not?”

“Great minds think alike.”

Among all the celebrated names advancing, only the Heaven-Covering Sword Dragon had yet to prove his worth on such a stage. His fame, such as it was, rested entirely on being the consort of the World’s Greatest Beauty.

“No doubt he had some renown in Gangseo, but…”

“Everyone of note is known in their own home territory.”

“Some have already begun calling him the Heaven-Covering Earth Dragon—shameless as it is.”

Earth Dragon. In other words, a worm.

“Poor man. By all accounts, he has real talent.”

“He is being made to bear the brunt of it simply because his lady stands so far above everyone else.”

Nor was it only here—every tavern across Wuhuan hummed with the same whispers. The main round would begin at dawn, after all.

“Whoever claims the title of Top Dragon at this Assembly will earn fame beyond measure.”

“Three disciples bearing the Ten Honors of Heavenly Martial alone—there is no doubt of it.”

So passed a night where countless souls lay awake, caught up in eager anticipation.

When morning came, the main round began.

—

Wudang had constructed dozens of vast competition arenas on the western outskirts of Wuhuan—grounds large enough to build an entire palace and still have space to spare. Yet now, that immense expanse was thronged from end to end, packed shoulder to shoulder.

“The main round of the Dragon-Phoenix Rivalry is about to commence! I am Hobuk Heavenly Sword, and I shall be your judge!”

A roar rose up from the crowd, and Yang-hwi smiled as he looked on. A gruff voice sounded from beside him.

“What are you smiling at? They have not stopped speaking ill of you, brother.”

It was true. Spectators chattered ceaselessly, even as the judge began explaining the rules.

“There he is—that is the Heaven-Covering Sword Dragon.”

“I see him. Certainly handsome enough. Explains how he came to win the World’s Greatest Beauty’s heart.”

“They say he is also blessed with a glib tongue. It seems obvious enough, does it not?”

“Young women are always drawn to a handsome face and honeyed words.”

It was not only the onlookers. Nearby competitors also cast glances his way, their expressions openly mocking. There was no need to study them closely—their eyes spoke volumes.

“Pay them no mind. Their tune will change soon enough.”

He had endured worse. Who, after all, enjoys being insulted, no matter the intent? He had waited for this very day. The deeper the mire, the more satisfying it is to wash clean. With a confident grin, he turned his attention to Judge Hobuk Heavenly Sword.

“The rules of the first stage are straightforward! Competitors shall face one another in disciplines of their own choosing!”

In essence:
– First, a competitor steps forward and names the event in which they wish to contend.
– Second, another competitor accepts the challenge and meets them in that chosen discipline.
– Third, the victor of the best-of-three contest advances to the second stage.

An interesting arrangement. Even with all those who had qualified through preliminaries or special exemptions, there were far too many to face one another in turn, and this format would move things along far more swiftly.

“The first stage of the main round is now open! Competitors, you may step forward and declare your chosen events!”

The judge finished speaking, yet no one moved. Choosing a discipline where one held an absolute advantage was not something to be done lightly.

“Chudal. Watch closely. You will see how I conduct myself.”

With that, he leaped onto the nearest arena—before anyone else had made a move. Murmurs rippled through the watching crowd.

“It is the Heaven-Covering Sword Dragon!”

“What boldness, to go first like this!”

“Does he mean to make a quick showing and then withdraw?”

Instead of appearing flustered, he laughed openly and offered a salute to all sides. Then he spoke, his voice carrying across the grounds.

“Baek Yang-hwi of the Baek Clan declares his challenge! Let any who believes he can defeat the Young Branch Leader of the Blood Murder Alliance within ten exchanges step forward now!”

A stunned silence fell over the gathering.

“What did he just say?”

“Ten exchanges?”

“Against the Young Branch Leader of the Blood Murder Alliance?”

Among those who followed the contests closely, the Young Branch Leader was counted among the favorites to claim the title of Top Dragon. Naturally so—for the Blood Murder Alliance was no mere regional power, but a contender for supremacy across the realm. Sending their Young Branch Leader to the Assembly had been a show of overwhelming confidence.

“He calls for anyone confident enough to answer… yet that sounds like a direct challenge to the Young Branch Leader himself.”

Some laughed in sheer disbelief.

“He speaks as though he has already lost! What foolishness! Ha ha! Just as everyone says, he has no idea what he is doing!”

Whatever the crowd might say, Yang-hwi directed a knowing smile toward where the Young Branch Leader stood. *Goodness, look at that face.* Veins stood out at his temples, and he looked ready to burst with rage. It was only to be expected—Yang-hwi had, in full view of thousands, essentially declared he would defeat him in fewer than ten moves.

“Is there no one willing to face the Young Branch Leader of the Blood Murder Alliance in ten exchanges?!”

Stung beyond endurance, the Young Branch Leader finally snapped.

“I will tear you apart!”

His killing intent surged so thick it felt as though it might choke the air. The stone beneath his feet cracked as he fought to master his fury.

“Careful now. They have laid expensive blue stone here for the occasion. I trust you will see to the repairs, Young Branch Leader?”

“Fine! I will kill you, and see that a generous donation is sent to whatever remains of your wretched Baek Clan!”

The words had barely left his lips before he charged. Yang-hwi drew his sword, unhurried and composed.

Then they met.

*Kwaaaaaang!*

Silence descended. When the dust settled, the truth was plain to see: the ferocious Young Branch Leader lay stretched upon the ground, unconscious, his eyes rolled back.

“Judge Hobuk Heavenly Sword, if you would—please declare the winner.”

The first match was decided. In a single exchange, the heir to a once-obscure clan had defeated the Young Branch Leader of the Blood Murder Alliance.

“Why so quiet, all of you? Pray continue your discussions.”

At those words, chaos erupted as though a stone had been cast into a still pond.