"Y-you… I'll tear you apart…!"
"Y-young Sect Master, please, calm yourself."
No matter how small his voice, this was still the Yongmyeong Guild.
So far, Souun's actions could be excused as accidents in the middle of a duel, or perhaps a heavy hand.
But excessive words or threats could cause problems later.
Fortunately, at the urging of those around him, Souun regained some composure and pointed to one of the sect's warriors.
"Mupyung, you go next."
"Yes, Young Sect Master."
"Don't be careless like Hancho. Go in with full force from the start. That brat knows more swordsmanship than I thought."
At Souun's words, surprise flickered across the faces of Mupyung and several other warriors.
It was rare for Souun to evaluate someone so highly.
'So… he really wasn't just bluffing.'
Souun wasn't one to distort judgment just because he disliked someone.
That thrust Wuha had shown when he defeated Hancho with a single blow—
At the very least, that one technique alone was on par with the level Souun himself had attained.
'Fine then. Let's see how far you can go.'
Mupyung was at least two levels above Hancho in skill.
Even if the guild's heir somehow managed to defeat him, there were still two more warriors of comparable strength waiting behind.
'And should you, by some impossible chance, stand before me…'
By then, you'll realize you'd have been better off losing to the others.
Because Souun had no intention of letting him off gently.
As Souun and Cheon Wuha locked eyes across the hall, Mupyung was already stepping onto the dueling stage.
"I am Mupyung of the Jongui Sect."
"I am Cheon Wuha of the Yongmyeong Guild."
After exchanging a brief bow, Mupyung assumed a serious defensive stance.
Broad shoulders, a solid build, and the thick muscles visible beneath his uniform made it clear he was someone who never neglected physical training.
'I will not be careless.'
Having watched Hancho's defeat, Mupyung did not rush in recklessly, but held his guard.
Souun's warning rang in his ears: never let your guard down, fight with your full strength.
If Souun had said that, it meant he did not see the opponent as a mere novice.
'I'll focus on defense first… then look for an opening to counterattack.'
Forming his plan, Mupyung closely observed Wuha's movements.
But Wuha, tilting his head slightly, asked him instead:
"…You're not coming in?"
"If you're confident, you come first."
"Hmmm…"
A touch of provocation in his reply.
At that, Wuha's lips twitched in amusement.
"Well… if that's what you want."
Ssshhk.
Pabat!
The moment he finished speaking, Wuha kicked off the stage floor and leapt straight at Mupyung.
Raising his wooden sword high overhead, he came down in a sharp arc.
Calmly lowering his stance, Mupyung raised his blade to block above his head.
And then—
Bwooom.
Kwaaang!
The moment their wooden swords clashed, an ear-splitting boom erupted.
And then, unbelievably, the wooden sword Mupyung had raised to defend his head bounced back down and smashed into his own skull.
Thud!
"Guhhh…!"
The dizzying impact turned his vision white. Clear fluid gushed from his nose and eyes.
Even staggering in a daze, Mupyung still kept his sword up as if to guard his head.
But—
Bwooom.
Kwaaang!
Wuha's blade struck again.
This time too, the force rebounded his sword straight into his own skull.
Crash!
"...Hee."
No scream left his lips—only a mad, broken laugh escaped him.
Then, dropping his sword with a clatter, Mupyung's eyes rolled back as he collapsed, blood flowing from his nose and mouth.
Wuha, watching him fall, turned calmly to where Souun stood and spoke:
"Next."
"Th-this… this is…"
Shock, terror, disbelief.
The audience could only describe the scene with such words.
Mouths hung wide open at the unbelievable sight before them.
Wuha's first victory had been astonishing, yes—but some had thought it was only possible because his opponent was careless.
After all, how could a boy not yet of age so easily defeat a lifelong warrior of the Jongui Sect?
But this time…
'Th-that… anyone can see…'
It wasn't carelessness.
It wasn't chance.
Even to the untrained eyes of the spectators, it was pure, overwhelming difference in power.
Among the stunned crowd, the Hwapyeong Guild Master stammered out words:
"Wh-what… what on earth is happening here?"
But no one could answer him.
No one present had even imagined such an outcome.
If there was anyone who might know…
"L-Lord Guild Master…"
At his trembling voice, the head of Cheonho Escort Agency looked toward Cheon Myeonghak and asked:
"Th-the young master… since when has he trained in martial arts?"
All eyes turned to Cheon Myeonghak.
And of course they did—until now, in their minds, Cheon Wuha was only a scholar, the disciple of Go Seokjeong, who had lived his life reading books.
Yet on the stage, Wuha's swordsmanship rivaled even Souun's overwhelming display.
"I-I… I cannot say for certain…"
Cheon Myeonghak, flustered under their stares, could barely answer.
He had thought Wuha's first match was enough.
He'd heard bits and pieces about Wuha's talent from Cho Mudo and Jang Eebo, and assumed Wuha had simply gotten lucky against an underestimating opponent.
But now…
'Wuha… you're this strong?'
Jang Eebo had once told him: Wuha's talent was such that he needed no teacher.
That even on his own, he could become stronger and stronger.
'Could it be… since that day, he's been secretly practicing the sword all along?'
Yes, that would explain it.
No other explanation could account for what they were witnessing.
Finally, after long thought, Cheon Myeonghak spoke with difficulty:
"Yes… about five years ago, Instructor Cho Mudo and Nangwi Sword taught him the martial basics."
"F-five years? Is that true?"
"Good heavens… how could this be possible…"
The guild masters shook their heads in disbelief.
Just as Cheon Myeonghak felt a faint smile creeping across his face—
"Truly remarkable talent. He reminds me of Souun in his youth."
The Jongui Sect Master, who had been silently watching with arms folded, suddenly spoke aloud.
"A child with such talent, and if he had even learned Jongnam's martial arts, perhaps even Souun would have reason to be wary. What a shame."
"Ahh…"
"Hmmm…"
Though it sounded like praise, his words also pointed out Wuha's limit.
No matter how gifted, with only the basics, Wuha could not compare with Souun who had mastered Jongnam's sword arts.
As murmurs died down, the Sect Master bit his lip secretly and stared at the stage.
'…Five years?'
Impossible.
He remembered—Souun had only reached that level long after joining the Jongnam Sect and training for years.
Yet Wuha's fundamentals, aside from Jongnam's Rising Sword Techniques, were nearly on par.
'It can only be one of two things…'
Either Cheon Myeonghak was lying—
Or he was witnessing a monster beyond reason.
'The latter… would be far worse.'
If so, Souun, though a genius, would live forever in that monster's shadow.
He would bear the disgrace of being outshone by a merchant's son.
'I cannot allow that.'
The beast's claws had not yet fully grown.
If Wuha was an unripe monster, then it was best to end him here and now.
As the Sect Master brooded in silence, the third Jongui Sect warrior was already stepping onto the stage.
"Uhh… ughhh…"
"Huh? Sir Jang! You're awake!"
"Wh-where am I?"
Opening his eyes to the bright sky above, Jang Eebo realized he had been lying unconscious.
Frowning, he tried to sit up—
"Ow!"
"Sir Jang, don't strain yourself. You lost consciousness from the impact."
"I… lost consciousness?"
Holding his head, Jang Eebo tried to recall.
'That's right… I… I lost…'
His Mirage Sword had been broken by an unexpected technique, his vital points struck in succession, and finally, a finishing blow to the face.
"We… we've lost, then?"
His voice dripped with despair and self-reproach.
He had been the one meant to represent the Yongmyeong Guild—yet he had fallen so pitifully before everyone.
But then—
"No, Sir Jang. We haven't lost yet."
"…What?"
"Strictly speaking, we did lose. But not the Yongmyeong Guild."
"Hm?"
"Can you sit up at least halfway? Let me help you."
A warrior carefully helped him sit, and Jang Eebo finally saw the figure standing on the stage.
That back… it looked familiar.
"Isn't that… the young master?"
"Yes, it is him."
"But… why is he there?"
Bewildered, he asked again.
The warrior answered with a proud smile:
"It's a long story, but after you fell, the young master provoked them. He challenged the Jongui Sect: he would defeat four of their warriors alone, and then face Souun himself."
"W-what?!"
Jang Eebo stammered in shock.
He had known Wuha was no ordinary scholar.
That was why he had asked him to join the fight in the first place.
But never had he imagined Wuha would step forward now, when everyone else had fallen, to face the Jongui Sect alone.
"S-so… how has it gone?"
"The fourth duel just ended. Now, only Souun remains."
"Heavens…"
The Jongui Sect's warriors were no weaker than himself.
And Wuha had defeated four of them in a row.
Though his strength amazed Jang Eebo anew, now was no time to be awestruck.
If the warrior's words were true, Wuha's last opponent would be—
"…He's coming."
"…!"
At the warrior's hushed words, Jang Eebo clenched his fists.
And then, from the Jongui Sect's formation, Souun stepped forward onto the stage.
Step. Step.
Stop.
"…Are you enjoying yourself?"
Souun glared across the stage, eyes sharp as blades.
"Striking down worthless opponents and making a spectacle—does it make you feel like you're something?"
"…What amusing words."
Wuha chuckled, eyes gleaming as he answered.
"Remind me—who was it just moments ago, who made a spectacle of beating down guild warriors for his own amusement?"
"…!"
"If I recall… it was the so-called genius of the Jongnam Sect, the Young Sect Master of the Jongui Sect."
"You bastard…!"
Crack!
Grinding his teeth loud enough for all to hear, Souun let killing intent spill out like a flood.
Even the audience gasped at the suffocating aura.
But Wuha, standing in its path, only smiled calmly.
"No, wait—I spoke wrong."
"..."
"You're the so-called genius… no, the dullard of the Jongnam Sect."
"You… I'll tear you apart!"
Pabat!
Before Cheon Myeonghak could even announce the match, Souun launched forward.
In an instant he was before Wuha, wooden sword slashing down.
Faces turned pale in shock—Cheon Myeonghak, the audience, all of them.
But then—
Kwaaaang!
With a thunderous boom, Souun's body was hurled back, skidding across the stage.
Crash! Thud!
"Guhhh! Khhhh!"
"W-what…?"
"No way!"
No one had seen it.
All they could make out was Souun being flung away the moment he swung.
Clutching his chest, he writhed on the ground.
"Khuhh… you… bastard…"
"Quit whining. Get up."
"…!"
"It's time you paid the price."
Looking down on him, wooden sword leveled, Wuha's eyes glinted coldly.
And Souun's gaze wavered violently.
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