At Cheon Wuha's unexpected words, the entire hall fell silent, as though a bucket of cold water had been poured over it.
A moment later, the Jongui Sect master furrowed his brow, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.
"What… what did you just say? A dullard?"
"Yes."
"…Ha!"
As though it were too absurd, the sect master suddenly let out a derisive snort toward the air.
And soon after, his expression hardened into an icy mask as he glared at Cheon Wuha.
"…Such a jest goes too far to dismiss on account of your youth. On what grounds do you spout such words?"
"Grounds, you say…? Do I need such a thing?"
"You wretch! Are you mocking me right now?"
"Didn't you say you liked honesty?"
Even as the sect master widened his eyes and raised his voice, Cheon Wuha kept the same relaxed smile on his lips and continued.
"I only answered what I saw. But if you suddenly demand grounds, I have nothing more to say."
"Hah… what? Do you truly…!"
"Wu, Wuha! What nonsense are you saying now!"
Cheon Myeonghak scolded Wuha, desperate to halt the situation that was growing ever more dangerous.
Then he quickly turned back to the sect master, bowing his head as he spoke.
"My apologies, Sect Master. I will take responsibility and apologize in Wuha's stead. Let us end the duels here and disperse."
"No. Not for my pride—I cannot allow it, Guildmaster."
The sect master, his face stiff as stone, ignored Cheon Myeonghak's bow and spoke directly to Wuha.
"Think carefully about your answer now. Honesty is no problem. But if you cannot take responsibility for your own words, I will consider it an insult to me."
"Well, very well."
"You say you see my son as a dullard. Then… if you were to face him, what do you think would happen?"
"I'm not sure why you ask, but…"
Wuha turned toward Souun as he continued.
"No one calls an opponent they cannot overcome a dullard, do they?"
"Khuk…!"
At Wuha's audacious reply, the sect master let out a laugh he couldn't contain.
Cheon Myeonghak, unable to grasp what was happening, looked back and forth between Wuha and the sect master with a bewildered face.
Then, once again hardening his expression, the sect master stared straight at Wuha and asked:
"Then… if I were to name you as the Yongmyeong Guild's final challenger, you would have no reason to refuse, would you?"
"S-Sect Master! What are you—!"
"There's no reason it can't be done."
Cutting off Cheon Myeonghak's panicked protest, Wuha lifted one corner of his lips in a leisurely smile and added:
"On one condition."
"A condition?"
"Beating a worn-out opponent who has already fought brings me no benefit, does it?"
Turning his gaze from the sect master, Wuha looked instead at the Jongui Sect's warriors standing not far from the stage.
"Let me fight four of your men first."
At those words, the sect master's expression shifted, disbelief slowly clouding his face.
"On the same terms as your young sect master. After facing four of your warriors…"
Ssshhk.
"…I'll fight your son last."
At Wuha's reply, the sect master's eyes widened, but a moment later, a slow, sticky smile crept across his lips.
"…Very well."
"..."
"I will grant your condition."
Hearing the sect master's answer, an enigmatic smile flickered across Wuha's mouth.
Bwoong.
"Hmmm…"
Wuha swung the wooden sword in his hand once through the air.
A moment later, he looked at it and gave a satisfied nod.
"Well… this should do."
"Little Young Master, are you truly all right with this?"
It was Cho Mudo, who had handed him the wooden sword, now asking with a face full of worry.
"Even now, it's not too late to call this off—"
"Instructor Cho."
"Yes?"
"Even after you're hurt like that, you're worried for me?"
"Ah… well…"
At that, Cho Mudo seemed to remember the bandages wrapped all over his own body. Flushing red, he sighed and spoke.
"I know I must look pathetic. But if you were to get injured like me…"
"So it's fine for Instructor Cho to be hurt, but not me? Why?"
"Because… I'm a warrior, am I not?"
"And I'm the guild's heir, am I not?"
"..."
"I, too, now have the responsibility to protect the guild. I can't simply stay behind and hide. And besides…"
"..."
"I am, after all… a student who once learned the sword from Instructor Cho, am I not?"
At Wuha's sudden words, Cho Mudo hastily shook his head in denial.
"What are you saying? All I ever taught you were a few swings and thrusts."
"And is there anything more to the sword than that?"
"Th-that is…"
There was a depth in Wuha's words that Cho Mudo couldn't comprehend, and in the end, he could give no answer.
Wuha looked at him for a moment, then turned toward the sparring stage.
"Well… don't worry too much."
"..."
"I'll be back."
Step, step.
Swinging the wooden sword casually, as though heading out for a stroll, Wuha walked toward the stage.
His carefree figure, so unfitting for the tension of the moment, somehow eased the knot of anxiety in Cho Mudo's chest.
'Can he really… do it?'
The talent Wuha had once shown as a child—talent so far beyond common sense they could not even measure it.
If he had continued honing that talent with the sword all this time…
Despite reason whispering it was impossible, a sliver of expectation rose within Cho Mudo.
And the moment he recognized it, a quiet murmur slipped from his lips.
"Please… win, Young Master."
His wish, spoken to Wuha's back as he walked away, was one whose outcome no one yet knew.
'…Wuha.'
From the instant his son stepped onto the stage, Cheon Myeonghak's heart thundered in his chest as he clenched his fists.
'You can't go out there!'
'Why not?'
'Nonsense! You are the guild's heir! How can you take the stage? Absolutely not!'
'What is a guild heir?'
'What? You're asking me that now…?'
'Warriors fight to defend the guild. Why can't the heir?'
'...!'
'Didn't you teach me martial arts yourself?'
'...'
'If being heir means I can't fight even when I must… why did you teach me at all?'
…The damn brat.
Perhaps he hadn't spent all his time playing, after all—each of his words cut so deeply they allowed no rebuttal.
A parent may be willing to break their own body, but never wants to see their child hurt. That is a parent's heart.
'But… you are right.'
A mistaken parent only seeks to shield their child in their arms.
A true parent helps their child learn how to live rightly.
No one can live a flawless life, but at least, if one truly loves their child, they must strive to be the right kind of parent.
Biting his lip anxiously, Cheon Myeonghak stared at the stage.
And then, from the Jongui Sect's formation, one warrior began to step onto the platform.
Step, step.
Stop.
"I am Hancho of the Jongui Sect."
"I am Cheon Wuha of the Yongmyeong Guild."
The two exchanged a brief bow atop the stage.
And then, as the moment came to announce the duel's beginning, Cheon Myeonghak closed and opened his eyes once, steadied his breath, and declared:
"The duel… begins!"
'Tsk, what a pitiful kid.'
Hancho, standing on the stage, clicked his tongue inwardly as he looked at Wuha's clumsy stance.
'So he went and provoked the Young Sect Master…'
Outwardly, Souun might restrain himself, but within the Jongui Sect, his temperament was infamous.
Even as a child he'd been somewhat arrogant, but since returning from Jongnam Sect, he had grown even more twisted.
Proud to the extreme, if he ever felt someone was looking down on him, he would crush them without mercy.
'Rip his face open.'
'Pardon? What do you mean—'
'Can't tell if you're stupid or just pretending. In a duel, accidents happen. Leave him a scar he'll never forget, so he never dares look at me with those insolent eyes again.'
Those were Souun's orders before sending him onto the stage.
Hancho felt sorry for the still-underage heir, but for his own survival within the sect, he couldn't disobey.
'No choice, then. I'll at least finish it quickly, before he even feels pain.'
From his sloppy stance, it was obvious Wuha had barely wielded a sword before.
As Wuha simply stood staring at him, Hancho pushed off the ground and shot forward.
Pabat!
'One strike will do!'
He thought the boy would dodge at least, but surely no more than one strike was needed.
Hancho's thrust was among the fastest in the sect—by the time Wuha even sensed something, his consciousness would already be gone.
Ssshp!
And so, as Hancho closed the distance and thrust his wooden sword toward Wuha's face—
'…A dot?'
Suddenly, a single black dot appeared before his eyes.
As he squinted, trying to make sense of it—
Kwaaang!
With a sound like something bursting, the sky spun above him.
Before he could even comprehend what had happened, darkness swallowed his consciousness whole.
Thud.
"…Ah?"
Wuha's thrust, driven in a perfect straight line, landed squarely on Hancho's face.
The Jongui Sect warrior collapsed instantly, felled in a single blow.
Everyone—Cheon Myeonghak and the spectators alike—blinked in disbelief at the scene before them.
And then, moments later…
"Wh-what…?"
"D-did he just… win? The young master?"
"He defeated a Jongui Sect warrior with a single strike?"
Stammering, wide-eyed voices rose across the hall.
Cheon Myeonghak, still stunned, only regained his senses when he saw Wuha lowering his sword and looking back at him.
"…Ah! Th-the match!"
"..."
"The match is over! V-victory to the Yongmyeong Guild!"
"Waaaah!"
The instant the declaration fell, thunderous cheers erupted from the Yongmyeong Guild's warriors.
Even the guild members who had watched in gloom until now cried out with joy.
"By the heavens! Did you see that? I couldn't even follow it with my eyes!"
"H-how did the young master ever learn such swordsmanship?"
"Instructor Cho! Did you already know the young master was this strong?"
"Uh… well…"
Cho Mudo, blinking in a daze at the warriors' barrage of questions, turned toward them.
And then…
"Well… I suppose I did, in a way…"
"Woooahhh!"
"Why didn't you ever tell us?"
"Could he win the second match too?"
The guild warriors, giddy with unexpected victory, jumped and shouted with excitement.
They seemed so full of life, it was hard to believe they were the same men who moments ago looked crushed.
Cho Mudo, watching them, turned his gaze back to Wuha's figure on the stage.
'Why didn't I say anything, you ask?'
…Because I didn't know.
I knew Wuha wasn't weak—but I never imagined he could be this strong.
Even more…
'That was… just a thrust.'
But it was a thrust executed with near-perfection.
No wasted motion, no wavering, no deviation from its straight path.
To his opponent's eyes, Wuha's sword probably hadn't even been visible.
'This… could it really be…'
A smile crept across Cho Mudo's lips as his fist clenched tight.
And just then, while everyone's eyes were on him in astonishment, Wuha slowly turned his head toward the Jongui Sect's formation.
Then—
"Next."
With that calm, indifferent word, Wuha's eyes met Souun's.
Souun's face twisted into a mask of fury.
read more on brightnovels.com