Chapter 249

Chapter 249
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**Chapter 249**
**Title: Unforeseen Assassins and Bracket Selection**

“A well-crafted plan. Care to walk me through it?”

“With pleasure. It’s quite straightforward—we’ll make this assassination attempt appear as though it never took place.”

First, he pushed his sensory perception to its absolute peak and surveyed every inch of their surroundings. Thanks to the barrier he’d erected to block out all sound, it seemed not a single soul had picked up on the disturbance.

“Things would have unfolded very differently had those assassins unleashed their full demonic power. But I struck them down before they could do so.”

“They’re attempting to steer events down an unexpected path, just to gauge how we respond.”

“Precisely. Now that matters have grown complicated, our best course is to strike at their vulnerabilities whenever we can.”

If they were caught, the assassins had been instructed to name the Great Namgung Clan as their employer? The moment such a ploy was deployed, the line between trust and suspicion blurred beyond recognition.

“I’d assumed the Namgung were the only party with motive to hire a hit at this juncture—but this changes everything.”

Circumstantially, it could equally be a ruse designed to frame the Namgung, who were already under intense scrutiny. If that were the case, erasing all evidence of the incident and observing what moves followed was the wisest choice.

“And then… the timing could not have been more calculated.”

Only earlier that day had he pressed Nanghon about potential ties to the Blood Cult. Now, an assassination ambush carried out by the Silent Blood Gate—the Blood Cult’s very own subordinate faction? Even if the link between the Silent Blood Gate and the Blood Cult remained unknown to the wider martial world, the coincidence was deeply suspicious.

“Confound it—whether ally or adversary, they’re all enemies in the end. Keep it simple. If someone acts, they’re the culprit. If no one makes a move, those despicable Namgung are to blame. What is your judgment, Father?”

“Regardless of who stands behind this, we must act swiftly to avoid drawing attention.”

A typical, measured response from his father.

“Understood. In that case, Father, I ask that you dispose of the bodies.”

While Baek Mu-ryang gathered the assassins’ corpses into a single pile, Yang-hwi wiped away every trace of blood. The Triple Samadhi True Fire was originally a supreme purification art, and with his internal energy cultivated to such lofty heights, erasing all such traces posed no difficulty.

“Still, I should dispatch Chudal as soon as we return. I have been as thorough as possible, but this is not my area of expertise—small oversights are all too likely.”

“Let us make our way back now, Father. There are further matters we must discuss.”

“Indeed.”

He returned to their lodgings alongside Baek Mu-ryang.

“You have returned sooner than anticipated. I had thought a father-and-son reunion would occupy you longer.”

“We have pressing duties to attend to. Besides, we have enjoyed enough leisure for now.”

Baek Mu-ryang deflected the comment gracefully and proceeded directly to his guest quarters with Yang-hwi. As they had agreed to keep the matter confidential, they said nothing to their other retainers, summoning only a select few. Shortly thereafter, Chudal and the Little Scholar entered and offered their respects.

“Be seated, both of you. Hui—explain what has transpired.”

“At once, Father.”

Chudal and the Little Scholar’s eyes widened in unison as they heard the account of the Silent Blood Gate’s ambush.

“An ambush? Here in Wuhuan?”

“With all four members of the Heavenly Martial Ten Venerables in attendance? For an assassin sect steeped in demonic arts to take such a commission… it reeks of foul play.”

A reasonable doubt. Calculated purely by risk, they would have demanded payment many dozens of times the standard fee—and the very existence of such an employer was suspicious in itself.

“I also fail to understand how the Heavenly Martial Ten Venerables remained oblivious to this.”

Yang-hwi shared their skepticism. No matter how quietly the assassins had moved, could they truly have slipped past the sensory range of the Ten Venerables?

“There are three likely explanations. Even the perceptions of the Heavenly Martial Ten Venerables have their limits. Alternatively, they may have noticed and chosen not to intervene. Or someone has employed means to deliberately deceive their senses.”

“Hmm… it still strikes me as strange.”

The Little Scholar stroked his chin and continued. “The first two possibilities carry far too many unknowns and limitations. That makes the third the most plausible—but if such means were available to them, the two of us would surely have met our end.”

“Would we?”

“Ahem. I did not say that aloud.”

The boy was sharp as a tack, yet for all his maturity, his manners still left something to be desired.

“Brat.”

“Brat? I have already come of age!”

“Still a brat—you are shorter than I am.” He continued, watching the Little Scholar bristle with indignation. “The third scenario is the most probable. There may be someone here in Wuhuan with the ability to cloud the perceptions of the Heavenly Martial Ten Venerables.”

He had not yet reported his findings regarding the Blood Cult Leader to the clan, as the information remained unconfirmed.

“The reason Father and I escaped unharmed may be that the assassins’ true objective differed from that of this hidden party—or perhaps they intended for the attempt to fail quietly.”

“Hmm… too many unknowns. It is all so convoluted and vexing.” The Little Scholar wore a look of genuine irritation—very much the mark of a strategist confronted with too few pieces of the puzzle.

Baek Mu-ryang stepped forward to summarize. “If we cannot yet discern the full truth, let us set it aside and address the matters that demand our immediate attention.”

“Agreed. Chudal—return to the ambush site and ensure not a single trace remains. Then keep the Great Namgung Clan under close observation.”

“Understood, Brother.”

Having stood side by side for more than a decade, Chudal required no further elaboration; he understood Yang-hwi’s intent completely.

“If members of the Namgung appear confused that no assassination attempt has come to light, or if they attempt to make contact, I shall report to you at once.”

“Good.”

Chudal departed the chamber.

“Hui—have you decided who your next opponent will be?”

“Not yet. I intended to challenge Nanghon on behalf of the young man he wronged, but he refused the match.”

Only sixteen competitors remained in the True Dragon Tournament, and it was time to determine how the tournament brackets would take shape based on selection and choice.

“To secure a decisive advantage, it would be wisest to target those who seem destined to reach the semifinals or finals.”

The three delved into earnest discussion, following the Little Scholar’s counsel.

—

A grand banquet hall. Here gathered the most promising young talents of the rising generation, alongside the elders of their respective sects. The Tai Chi Sword Hermit rose from his seat at the head of the hall.

“Three days have passed since the tournament began. I trust all our young heroes have had ample time to select their next opponents.” The moment for choosing matchups had arrived once more. “Those who have reached an agreement may step forward and announce your pairings.”

At his words, competitors rose one by one to speak. The first to step forward was Okcheong.

“I am Okcheong of Mount Huashan! I wish to test my skill against the Beggars’ Sect master of the Anti-Dragon Eighteen Palms!”

Okcheong had never once chosen an opponent of lesser skill throughout the tournament. He always sought out those of genuine talent, masters of arts he longed to experience firsthand—and this occasion proved no different.

“Just as I would expect of Okcheong.”

Announcements continued.

“Black Shadow Monk of the Zhejiang Black Family, I select as my opponent…”

“…Mysterious Sword of Wudang, I choose the master of the Chungnam Sect…”

Several pairs of competitors had already been named, leaving only four unpaired.

“Tang Jun of the Tang Clan, Baek Yang-hwi of the Baek Clan, Nanghon the Wanderer, and Mo Yong-mo of the Mo Yong Clan—you four shall now select your opponents.”

Nanghon… you swore you would choose Brother Tang, yet you remain silent? Yang-hwi turned his head and met Nanghon’s crafty, self-satisfied smile. His anger flared. To nominate him so publicly?

*Do not do it, Young Hero Yang-hwi. If you refuse the nomination and then choose Tang Jun, it will appear highly suspicious.*

Yang-hwi stood and bowed formally to the assembly.

“I, Baek Yang-hwi of the Baek Clan, declare that I shall face whoever remains unchosen.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. This course of action had been agreed upon in advance with the Little Scholar and Baek Mu-ryang—if no ideal opponent presented themselves, he would project an image of unflinching impartiality.

“Truly bold resolve.”

“His confidence has only grown since the tournament began.”

“Everything now rests on the choices of the other three.”

He glanced toward Nanghon, who wore a look of feigned surprise. *Did you imagine I would hold back from challenging Brother Tang simply because I know his true strength?*

Nothing could have been further from the truth. Whatever Nanghon’s past as the supreme True Dragon, Tang Jun was no one’s easy prey. Having cast off the poisons that had defined his clan, Tang Jun had blossomed into a dazzlingly formidable warrior—even Yang-hwi, who remembered his past life, was struck by how far he had come.

“Young Hero Tang Jun, would you do me the honor of crossing blades with me?”

Forewarned, Tang Jun showed no surprise. In truth, he likely would not have done so in any case.

“I accept with gratitude. May we both learn much from this exchange.”

“Hahaha—I look forward to it greatly.”

This left Yang-hwi to face Mo Yong-mo of the Mo Yong Clan.

“It is an honor to meet you.”

“And I you, Young Hero Mo Yong.”

Mo Yong-mo seemed surprisingly timid for a direct heir to one of the Five Great Clans. Yang-hwi searched his memory—no distinct impression stood out, meaning the young man had left little mark in his past life.

“With these matches confirmed, the tournament bracket of sixteen is complete. I have one further announcement to make.”

All eyes turned to the Tai Chi Sword Hermit.

“Competition is shaped by its rewards. When we of Wudang hosted the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly and Contest, we did not reveal the prize for the supreme True Dragon in advance. We wished to bestow a reward truly worthy of the finest talent of this generation.”

Most listened intently, though Yang-hwi did not. *This old man speaks in far too many circles.* He already knew what the prize would be—the Supreme Purity Pill, Wudang’s supreme elixir, comparable in power to the Great Return Pill. Consumed, it would grant the recipient at least a decade’s worth of internal energy, its exact effects shaped by their core cultivation art. It carried the essence of Taoist arts to subdue demons, and with good fortune, could even reveal profound insights into the principles of Tai Chi.

“Our sect has deliberated long and hard on what gift would truly honor the foremost young talent of the realm. At last, we have reached our decision.”

*Just say it already.* The Supreme Purity Pill was a treasure coveted by all, especially by rising talents who had not yet built deep reserves of internal energy—even those with decades of cultivation would benefit immensely.

“What defines a rising talent? The drive to refine, to learn, to advance. Therefore, Wudang shall award to the supreme True Dragon something far rarer: the legacy of Sword Immortal Yeo Dong-bin, the founder of our line… the Sword Immortal’s Chronicles, his own handwritten accounts from his life in the mortal world!”

Yang-hwi’s eyes widened. *The personal records of Yeo Dong-bin? Not the Supreme Purity Pill?*

Everything—past life, present life—had begun to shift from the course he knew.
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