Chapter 107

The preliminary matches were held not in the Martial Alliance’s Training Ground but in various public martial arenas scattered throughout Luoyang.

In Luoyang, unless a martial arena had a specific owner, it was jointly managed by the Martial Alliance and the government, each bearing half the responsibility. Since the Martial Alliance held a 50% stake, they often rented out the arenas during events like this.

On the way to the martial arena.

Unlike Namgung Woo, who had reached a level where he could effortlessly ignore the stares of those around him, Namgung Sol kept nervously licking their dry lips.

Having only ventured into the martial world a few months ago, Namgung Sol’s experience was even shorter than Namgung Woo’s.

Moreover, those few months were spent fending off people who, upon hearing the Namgung name, wondered if there was anything left to exploit.

After Gakwon’s intervention brought some peace and stability, Namgung Sol’s past was filled with constant vigilance, always wary of the intentions of those who approached them.

And now, it was real combat. While they had sparred many times, they had never experienced a full-force martial duel. Namgung Sol’s trembling nerves doubled.

But that tension was solely about the duel and its outcome.

They no longer felt uneasy about the people around them.

Because Namgung Sol was no longer alone.

By their side was someone they could trust and follow more than anyone else.

‘If I just do well… just me…’

Unlike Namgung Sol, who was steeling their resolve with the five-word mantra “I must win,” Namgung Woo didn’t have high expectations for them.

Namgung Woo’s standards were too high to place much hope in Namgung Sol. Even Yang Jeong, considered the weakest in Changcheon Pavilion, was a Peak Master. Jegal Seon-a, who seemed unimpressive, was on par with Yang Jeong.

In contrast, Namgung Sol hadn’t even reached the peak level. They didn’t even meet the criteria to be called a Late Blooming Prodigy.

In terms of internal energy alone, they were close to the peak, but they hadn’t learned how to properly utilize it. In crude terms, it was like putting a pearl necklace on a pig.

However, just because Namgung Woo didn’t have high expectations didn’t mean he neglected them.

Aside from teaching Namgung Sol practical combat techniques, he also paid considerable attention to their external circumstances.

“Sol, you’ll be competing in the southwest for the preliminaries.”

Namgung Woo spoke aloud instead of using Whispering Transmission, a considerate gesture since Namgung Sol hadn’t reached the peak level and couldn’t use the technique.

But he didn’t allow others to eavesdrop either. Namgung Woo subtly disrupted the sound waves around them with faint energy pulses.

This blocked external noise and prevented their voices from leaking out. The seamless and natural manipulation of energy showcased Namgung Woo’s mastery, as effortless as moving his limbs.

But Namgung Sol had no time to marvel at Namgung Woo’s energy control.

Told to focus solely on improving their skills, Namgung Sol was now hearing about their competition venue for the first time.

Caught off guard by the sudden announcement, Namgung Sol widened their eyes like a rabbit and asked, “The southwest? Isn’t the closest area the southeast or due east?”

The southwest, southeast, and due east were mentioned because the preliminaries were divided into eight groups based on the eight directions. Naturally, this followed the Martial Alliance’s Eight Directions formation.

Namgung Sol already knew this much.

The explanation that followed was taken over by Paeng Ha-ryeong.

“Sol, if you think about how the preliminaries work, it’ll make sense.”

“The format… is to select the top two from each group to advance to the main tournament, right?”

This was why Yang Kwae, Yang Jeong, and Geumshin were competing in different locations for the preliminaries.

“Exactly. So sometimes, someone who ranks third in one direction might actually be the strongest in another.”

This was where information became crucial.

The main tournament brackets were set by the Martial Alliance, but participants could choose their preliminary group.

Information like which group a top contender had applied for—this was the kind of intel the Yang Brothers had gathered by frequenting gambling dens.

Which group was the “group of death”?

Which group was the weakest?

The information war to figure this out was essentially the prelude to the martial tournament.

While gamblers collected information to decide who to bet on, the factions sending their Late Blooming Prodigies were engaged in a fierce battle of wits.

On the other hand, those from prestigious factions flaunted their superiority, boldly declaring, “I’ve entered here. If you have a problem, come fight me.” But that was the privilege of the top 10%, who had grown up with the best resources.

Ambitious mid-tier factions, desperate to produce a star and elevate their status, had no such luxury.

Some factions even stationed people at all eight venues all day to monitor who was entering which group. And the faction that tried this ended up failing to advance to the main tournament, becoming the laughingstock of the martial world and eventually disbanding.

“After that incident, overt surveillance decreased, but choosing which group to enter is still a matter of great deliberation for even mid-tier factions.”

“Oh… I see…”

Under Namgung Sol’s admiring gaze, Paeng Ha-ryeong puffed out her chest, proudly displaying her maternal pride and vast knowledge of the martial world.

Witnessing Paeng Ha-ryeong’s deep understanding firsthand, Namgung Sol couldn’t help but let out a sigh of admiration.

Meanwhile, Jegal Seon-a, who had been quietly listening, perked up like an owl spotting prey in the dark.

‘Sol… Did Ha-ryeong just call Namgung Sol “Sol”?’

From the casual address, Jegal Seon-a sensed that the relationship between Namgung Woo and Namgung Sol was more than ordinary.

If that was the case, then perhaps she could also…

“Miss Namgung, do you know how many participants are in each group for the preliminaries?”

“The number? I’m not sure…”

“It varies by group, but on average, there are 20 to 30 participants. The martial tournament, both preliminaries and main tournament, is conducted in single-elimination matches. So, you’ll need to win three matches to advance to the main tournament.”

“Three matches…”

“Sometimes it goes up to four, but usually, it’s three. The rest periods between matches are very short. Even if you win, many end up forfeiting because they’re too exhausted.”

Pushing yourself too hard in the preliminaries could lead to internal injuries or Qi deviation, which would be counterproductive. Even if you made it to the main tournament, you might have to forfeit your first match.

In that case, even if you earned the title of “Dragon and Phoenix,” you’d only be mocked with derogatory nicknames like “Earth Dragon” or “False Phoenix.”

“So, while winning is important in the preliminaries, it’s even more crucial to win efficiently. But conserving too much energy is also a problem. Striking a balance is key.”

Namgung Sol was genuinely surprised by this new side of Jegal Seon-a.

Her small, delicate appearance, more reminiscent of a timid animal than a sharp, decisive figure.

Honestly, Namgung Sol’s first impression of Jegal Seon-a hadn’t gone beyond “cute.” Given Namgung Sol’s own harsh life, this was especially true.

But now, it was different. Was this really the same Jegal Seon-a? The Jegal Family truly was something else.

A smart family…

While it wasn’t enough to make Namgung Sol’s chest swell with pride, it was enough to make them reconsider their first impression.

“Got it. I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Miss Jegal.”

“Ahem, ahem, well, this is just basic advice anyone could give.”

Pretending to be nonchalant, Jegal Seon-a’s eyes kept darting toward Namgung Woo.

It was unmistakably a look seeking praise. Even to Namgung Sol, who had no romantic experience and whose closest reference was a childhood prankster from a decade ago, that look was clearly one of affection.

Namgung Sol swallowed hard and glanced at Paeng Ha-ryeong. By now, any tension about the duel had completely vanished.

Paeng Ha-ryeong’s expression, however, was surprisingly calm.

Under Paeng Ha-ryeong’s tacit approval, Namgung Woo gave Jegal Seon-a the reaction she wanted.

“Thank you, Miss Jegal. That was very helpful…”

Namgung Woo suddenly stopped mid-sentence and halted in his tracks, looking around sharply.

His eyes narrowed, scattering a blue light.

“Who’s there?”

“Me, Namgung Woo?”

Had her blatant request for praise and attention bothered him? As Jegal Seon-a fidgeted, Namgung Woo deactivated his Azure Tranquility Eyes and turned his head back.

“Ah, sorry. Thought I saw something strange. Must’ve been my imagination.”

Perhaps it was due to the energy pulses he was using to disrupt sound waves. Namgung Woo tried to rationalize the strange sensation he’d felt.

After finishing the praise he hadn’t given Jegal Seon-a earlier, Namgung Woo resumed walking.

But after a few steps, a doubt crept into his mind.

Had Azure Tranquility Eyes ever been wrong before?