"I couldn't see it!"
It was true—he had attacked rashly in his excitement.
Up until now, he thought he had read his opponent's skill completely by observing the earlier matches.
But…
"He was still hiding his true ability?"
Even after defeating four of Jonguimun's so-called elite?
As So Woon struggled to hide his bewilderment, the words his father, the Jonguimun Lord, had sent through sound transmission before the duel resurfaced in his mind.
"Forget about the consequences. Destroy him so he can never wield a sword again. For your future, and for Jonguimun's."
"Tsk."
Clicking his tongue in irritation, So Woon rose slowly to his feet.
Fine, he admitted it.
This boy was no toy to be toyed with at will.
He was a definite enemy—one who might one day stand in his way.
"You said you'd make me pay?"
"..."
"You dare… you insignificant wretch?"
Though his voice brimmed with murderous intent, as if ready to charge at once, So Woon's eyes remained cold and calculating, following Cheon Woo-ha's every move.
It was the look of a predator, prepared for a life-or-death hunt.
"The atmosphere has changed."
Woo-ha gazed down at him with a mocking smile, amused.
At that moment, So Woon boldly stepped forward and slammed his foot down upon the stage.
Srrrk.
Boom!
"…Let's see how long you can keep laughing."
Whooosh!
As he spoke, powerful qi surged around him. The wooden sword at his side flared into eight streaks of blinding light that shot toward Woo-ha.
It was the same manifestation of the Swift Sword Eight Flashes (쾌검팔섬) he had displayed earlier against Jang Ui-bo.
Shhhh! Shhhht!
The eight flashes, impossible to evade, hurtled toward Woo-ha. But just as they reached him, his wooden sword, poised at his center, traced soft afterimages as it swayed left and right.
Pabababap!
Woo-ha's phantom sword shadows deflected the streaks from their sides.
Thrown off their course, the lights sliced through empty air—leaving Woo-ha's counterstrike to streak straight toward So Woon's face.
Kwaaang!
"Khk…!"
Though shocked that his Swift Sword Eight Flashes had been dismantled, So Woon swiftly recalled his weapon and blocked Woo-ha's attack.
Unlike the earlier Jonguimun warriors, who couldn't withstand even a single blow, So Woon successfully defended with the wooden sword in his hand.
"Hmm…"
Woo-ha narrowed his eyes at the blade, dissatisfied.
Then, breaking the clash, he stepped down hard onto the stage.
Thud!
Whoooosh!
"…What?"
Woo-ha brought his sword to his side, qi surging from his body.
The stance unmistakably resembled the preparation for Swift Sword Eight Flashes.
So Woon's eyes widened in disbelief.
And then—
Shhhhht!
Woo-ha's wooden sword split into five streaks of light that rushed toward So Woon.
"What—?!"
Clash! Clang!
Panicked, So Woon swung wildly to block the streaks. But flustered as he was, four of them grazed his shoulders and sides.
And then—
Kwaang!
One unblocked strike slammed squarely into his face. So Woon spewed blood as he tumbled violently across the stage.
Thud! Thud! Crash!
"Keuhk…!"
"This… this is impossible!"
The technique was nearly identical to the Swift Sword Eight Flashes.
No—without a doubt, it was an imitation of it.
At the sight, the Jonguimun Lord leapt to his feet in shock.
If even he, usually calm and composed, was this shaken, the reaction of the audience needed no imagination.
And as for So Woon, the one on the receiving end…
"Cough…! Wh-what is this…?"
Staggering to his feet, dazed, So Woon watched Woo-ha approach with an indifferent expression.
Panic seized him, and he cried out hysterically:
"You bastard! How—how do you know Zhongnan Sect's sword art?!"
"…Zhongnan Sect's sword art?"
At So Woon's frenzied outburst, Woo-ha smirked faintly and stepped forward once more.
Thud.
"…!"
Realizing Woo-ha was about to imitate Swift Sword Eight Flashes again, So Woon hastily took a defensive stance.
Earlier, he had been caught off guard, but as a disciple of Zhongnan, blocking it should be no problem.
He only needed to keep calm, place his blade at the center, and strike down the core of the light streaks.
Just as the young heir of Yongmyeong Trading House had done moments ago!
Whoooosh.
Shhhhht!
Five streaks of light once again flew at him. So Woon calmly swung to cut through their core—
Srrrk…
But instead of flying straight, the lights suddenly curved gracefully around his guard.
And then—
Bam! Bam! Thud!
Crack!
Whiiish!
Slice!
"Keuhk…!"
The five streaks smashed into his shoulders, thighs, and abdomen with direct precision.
Reeling backward, bleeding, So Woon raised his head, eyes wide with horror and disbelief.
"…So it's true."
Woo-ha looked down on his bloodied, dirt-streaked face with a faint smile.
"You've changed too."
"Wh-what… what are you saying?"
So Woon's eyes bulged in confusion and denial. Gone was the arrogance and pride he once carried—just as had happened with countless so-called geniuses who once faced Sa U-myeong.
"Now… get up."
"…!"
"I still have something to deliver—through you."
Turning his gaze, Woo-ha looked past So Woon.
Standing dumbfounded in the audience were Jang Ui-bo and Cho Mu-do, who had watched every moment of the duel.
"If they have any perception, they'll understand."
So Woon's will had been broken, Jonguimun's pride shattered.
What Woo-ha had left to do now was leave something meaningful for those who had fought for Yongmyeong.
When he turned back, So Woon was already rising, trembling, fear filling his eyes as he forced himself into a defensive stance.
"Looks like you're ready."
Woo-ha muttered flatly, stepping forward once more.
To So Woon, the boy before him no longer appeared as a mere pampered heir of a merchant clan, but as an unfathomable monster.
Boom!
Crash! Crack!
"Keuhk…!"
"Th-this can't be…"
It was one-sided.
There was no other way to describe it.
The final duel between Yongmyeong and Jonguimun—
Cheon Woo-ha, the heir of Yongmyeong, was utterly overwhelming So Woon, heir of Jonguimun.
The Yongmyeong warriors watching wore expressions not of awe, but reverence.
Slightly apart, Cho Mu-do and Jang Ui-bo stared with entranced eyes.
So Woon tried to turn the tide with flashy techniques, but Woo-ha's simple and solid strikes cut through every gap.
Basic slashes and thrusts—nothing more.
Yet within them lay sharp precision that tore through So Woon's fractured flow, nullifying his gaudy displays.
This… was the path Cho Mu-do was meant to walk.
"Yaaaaah!"
Driven mad with frustration, So Woon screamed and charged, abandoning flair, trying to crush Woo-ha with sheer fundamentals.
But—
Swish.
Woo-ha's wooden sword twisted unpredictably, slashing into his flank.
So Woon barely diverted it, but the weapon blurred with illusions, breaking through his defense—
Thud! Thwack! Crack!
Boom!
Crash!
"Keuhk…!"
Basic forms, yet endlessly shifting.
This was the path Jang Ui-bo was meant to follow.
"…Young Lord."
No one said it aloud, but many clenched their fists, biting their lips.
Why did their throats tighten with tears?
Why, amidst the thrill and joy, did their hearts swell painfully?
"…Thank you."
They understood.
Woo-ha was showing them the destination of their journey.
Perhaps too distant for their talents to reach, but every move was etched into their eyes.
"Woo-ha…"
Cheon Myeong-hak, watching with indescribable emotion, loosened his fists that had been clenched at the start.
The sharp excitement that filled him earlier faded, replaced by pride, longing, guilt, and gratitude.
"So it was you… who protected us."
It should have been them—he and Yongmyeong—protecting him.
"I have much to ask you…"
When had he grown so strong?
Why, with such talent, had he chosen the scholarly path?
Why had he hidden his power until now?
"But… none of that matters."
All that mattered was that Woo-ha stood here, as Yongmyeong's heir, fighting their enemies.
"So please… come back safely."
As a merchant lord, and as a father, he watched Woo-ha with heartfelt prayer.
But for the Jonguimun Lord, the situation was entirely different.
Face flushed with veins bulging, fists trembling, his expression was filled with chaos, shock, and rage.
His son was supposed to break his opponent—yet he cowered, beaten, driven into a corner!
"You…! What are you doing, So Woon!"
Unable to bear it, he shouted furiously.
"Have you forgotten who you are?! Will you disgrace the names of Jonguimun and Zhongnan Sect?!"
Crash!
"…!"
The words rang in So Woon's ears as he rolled across the stage.
Suddenly, he stopped, biting his lip.
"What… am I doing?"
He had always prided himself as unmatched in Xi'an.
When he left Zhongnan after surviving hellish training, he swore he'd never lose again.
And yet here he was, losing will, cowering instead of striking back.
Drip… drip…
Blood from his lips fell onto the stage.
Slowly lifting his head, his eyes burned with new fury and malice.
"…I'll kill you."
"…Hm?"
"I'll kill you! I'll tear you apart, you bastard!"
Boom!
So Woon rose, madness in his gaze, and stomped down with killing intent flooding outward.
Spectators gasped at the murderous aura.
But—
"…Good."
Woo-ha only smiled faintly.
This was why fights with so-called geniuses were worth it.
Unlike most, who ran from the incomprehensible, they sometimes shattered their limits at the brink.
"Now… let's see."
What would a genius who broke his wall show?
Woo-ha strode forward without hesitation.
At that instant—
Shhhk!
So Woon's sword descended in a pure, unadorned vertical slash.
No tricks, no flair—just raw simplicity.
Yet for that very reason, it carried unmatched speed and power.
"…Indeed."
It was the essence of Zhongnan's sword—fundamentals above all.
Woo-ha nodded, then met it head-on.
Kwoooom!
The impact shook the arena.
For the first time, Woo-ha's brow furrowed. The force transmitted through the wooden sword was heavier than expected.
"As I thought…"
He was weak. Unlike Sa U-myeong, who had the Celestial Martial Body, Woo-ha's flesh had never been trained.
And yet—
Swish!
Boom!
Even so, the gap between them remained vast.
Twisting his blade to create space, Woo-ha shoved So Woon's sword aside and stepped in.
"No…!"
So Woon's eyes widened in disbelief. His strongest strike had been broken.
Woo-ha's sword descended.
No frills, just pure, honest force.
To So Woon, it looked far too familiar.
"…Zhongnan's sword?"
No—it wasn't.
This monster had stolen his sword.
"You bastard!"
So Woon screamed, face twisted with rage.
He tried to raise his blade, but Woo-ha's strike had already reached him.
Kwak!
Crack!
"…!"
The blow broke So Woon's nose. Blood spurted, but Woo-ha's sword had already risen again.
So Woon instinctively lifted his weapon to guard his head—
Shhhk!
Kwoom!
Snap!
His wooden sword shattered, and Woo-ha's strike smashed down on his skull.
"Ugh…"
So Woon's body trembled, then collapsed to the floor, unconscious, eyes rolled back.
Thud.
"Ah…"
The crowd fell silent. No one doubted the fight was over.
Turning, Woo-ha looked directly at the Jonguimun Lord.
"Shall we continue?"
"…!"
The man opened his mouth but no words came.
And then—
"This duel… belongs to Yongmyeong Trading House!"
Cheon Myeong-hak's voice rang out.
"Wooooaaahhh!"
Thunderous cheers erupted from Yongmyeong's people.
"Hahaha! Are we dreaming? We defeated Jonguimun!"
"Long live the Young Merchant Lord! Long live Yongmyeong!"
They rushed the stage, embracing Woo-ha.
"We love you, Young Lord!"
"You're the best!"
"Please lead us from now on!"
"Wait, let me go—!"
…Thus, both the investiture and the duel ended in the most perfect way imaginable.
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