Chapter 118

Can one not grieve for the death of a friend?

It’s possible.

There are still aspects of the martial world’s mindset that Namgung Woo cannot fully comprehend.

Moreover, considering the spirit of chivalry (협), which values rising with a sword to seek revenge over mourning death, it’s possible that one might be consumed by vengeance rather than sorrow.

However, the emotions Namgung Woo saw in Seomun Pyo were different.

There was no sorrow, no desire for revenge—only pure anger.

“But wasn’t the Alliance Leader also there at the time?”

Myorin’s tone returned to its usual calm as she exhaled a toxic aura.

Namgung Woo nodded in response to Myorin’s question.

“That’s right.”

“Is that possible? Alliance Leader Gakwon is famous for unlocking three of the Six Divine Powers (육신통) from Buddhism. If something was off, he would’ve noticed first, right?”

“It was blocked.”

“Huh?”

“I blocked it because it seemed like he was trying to use it on me too. He probably wasn’t going all out, but I can block it, at least.”

Myorin stared intently at Namgung Woo.

Her half-lidded eyes, still slightly affected by the cannabis, looked at him with an indescribably complex expression.

“Really, as always, your eyes are just… unfair.”

Myorin had sacrificed and endured so much to gain her strength.

Even though her body could no longer taste properly without cannabis, she had poured her heart into her training…

Yet Namgung Woo was born with overwhelming supernatural abilities, surpassing even the Four Spirits Tattoo (사령문).

“I knew the world was unfair, but seeing you, Great Master, I truly feel the heavens’ favoritism.”

“Favoritism, huh…”

Yes, that wasn’t wrong.

Namgung Woo internally assessed the level of power he had been given, its origins unknown.

The level was astonishing. The ability to split rivers with a single sword strike, overturn the earth with a single step, and even eyes that could pierce through all the mysteries of the world.

Who was the one who granted him such power?

If someone could give him such power so easily, could they not also take it away with a single gesture?

And if these powers were to suddenly disappear, just as they had been given, what would remain of Namgung Woo himself?

Thinking that having eyes that could see through the world meant anything was a delusion.

There existed a being in the heavens who could mold the world like clay in their hands. Even if he could observe the world, the limits of his power were clearly defined.

‘These traces of secrets only make my thoughts more complicated.’

In times like these, it was better to move.

And just then, the target began to move.

“Let’s go. We’ll follow using Kirin’s Step (기린지).”

§

The main tournament began seven days after the preliminaries ended.

The largest martial arena in Luoyang (낙양), known as the Great Flame Martial Arena (대연무장) of the Martial Alliance (무림맹).

Unlike other martial arenas in Luoyang, this one was entirely managed by the Martial Alliance and was originally open only to martial artists affiliated with the Alliance.

Used for group training or sparring with new opponents, the arena had been slightly modified with spectator seats and a central dueling stage, transforming it into the venue for the main tournament.

“Wow… it’s incredibly huge!”

This was Namgung Sol’s first time visiting the Great Flame Martial Arena, despite being under the protection of Gakwon as a member of the Martial Alliance.

Even Paeng Ha-ryeong and Jegal Seon-a, who lived in the Great Manor, were seeing the arena for the first time, awed by its massive scale.

Geumshin, uninterested in material things, glanced around to see who had arrived, while the Yang Brothers stood gaping, overwhelmed by the grandeur.

“In the end, he didn’t come…”

The excitement of the arena was short-lived. Namgung Sol couldn’t help but feel disappointed, thinking of Namgung Woo, who had been acting separately for the past few days.

Having reached the peak, she had hoped to receive true guidance on the Azure Sky Flying Swallow Sword Technique (창궁비연검법). Still, she hadn’t been completely abandoned—she had learned how to wield sword energy (검기) from Paeng Ha-ryeong in Namgung Woo’s stead.

“Looking at the bracket, some strong contenders have made it.”

The bracket had just been revealed today.

Eight duels were scheduled for today.

To prevent pre-arranged deals or specific tactics targeting a single opponent, the matchups were announced just before the duels.

Namgung Sol’s opponent was a newcomer to the main tournament, much like herself.

“Be careful. That girl is close to the Great Manor’s leader, so she might know some martial arts.”

It was Song Chaeji of the Hangsan Faction (항산파).

Song Chaeji, who had come to Luoyang to participate in the tournament, had successfully advanced to the main tournament.

She had visited Changmu Inn (창무객잔) to boast about it, but unfortunately, Namgung Woo was busy drinking tea with Myorin at the time.

Paeng Ha-ryeong’s thoughts grew complicated as she recalled Song Chaeji’s visit to the inn.

Was she really just an acquaintance or friend of Namgung Woo?

Someone who knew Namgung Woo before Paeng Ha-ryeong did. The first person Namgung Woo had met after emerging into the world, exchanging favors…

She couldn’t help but be bothered by her.

The word “first” held a certain magic.

It wasn’t easily forgotten, and Song Chaeji had claimed many “firsts.”

The first woman Namgung Woo met.

The first woman who helped Namgung Woo.

The first woman Namgung Woo helped.

The first woman who knew Namgung Woo’s real name…

“Sookmae.”

When Paeng Ha-ryeong suddenly grabbed her hand, Namgung Sol flinched and reflexively responded.

“Yes, yes?”

“Absolutely, absolutely do not lose.”

Paeng Ha-ryeong’s aura was rougher than Namgung Sol had ever seen before.

The intense, passionate energy made Namgung Sol shout like a disciplined recruit.

“Yes!”

Encouraged by Paeng Ha-ryeong’s not-quite-cheer, Namgung Sol confidently stepped onto the central dueling stage of the Great Flame Martial Arena.

A familiar face awaited her.

“Ugh… I didn’t want to fight the disciple of Namgung Sohyeop. But I guess there’s no choice. No holding back, okay?”

“Of course! Give it your all.”

Namgung Sol vs. Song Chaeji.

The disciple of the Blue Sword Emperor (청검제) of Changcheon Pavilion (창천대) and the Late Blooming Prodigy (후기지수) of the Hangsan Faction of the Five Peaks Sword Faction (오악검파).

In terms of reputation alone, they were truly fitting contenders for the main tournament.

“Then, let the duel begin!”

With the shout of Deung Jong-yu, the referee, the main tournament officially commenced.

§

The clouds swallowed the moon.

The faint starlight was too weak to illuminate the earth.

The torches held by the night guards couldn’t dispel the oppressive darkness. A sinister wind blew, and an ominous aura lingered in the air.

The night was eerily silent, as if something might leap out at any moment.

A faint sound, so quiet it would have been inaudible even up close, lightly brushed against the city walls and scattered.

With that faint presence, an uninvited guest silently began to move. The intruder was as stealthy as a shadow draped in darkness, and his spider-like movement left no trace.

Before anyone could notice, the intruder had entered the inner courtyard of the estate. Guards, stone walls, and barriers were all meaningless.

Merged with the darkness, he moved further inward. With each step, his surroundings seemed to shift behind him. In an instant, he reached the inner chambers.

“Those who come uninvited are never good, and those who are good never come uninvited.”

A faint killing intent emanated from the uninvited guest.

The intruder’s purpose became clear. Assassination.

The assassin climbed onto the roof of the inner chamber. His target was surely sleeping inside.

All that remained was to enter and end that life. The assassin’s eyes gleamed with killing intent. Without a sound, the roof was sliced open. As if using some technique, the cut section was moved aside with a gesture.

With an utterly cold and precise mind, the assassin stepped onto the floor of the inner chamber.

*Swish—!*

He dodged the flying sword and threw himself outside.

As he fell to the ground, the assassin saw the blade that had cut through his clothes and even grazed his skin, scattering droplets of blood.

And the blue-eyed swordsman holding that blade.

*Thud.* The sound of his landing was surprisingly quiet for the height he had fallen from. He had landed calmly despite the sudden attack.

The swordsman, who had watched the assassin’s fall from above, let out a low, impressed hum.

The gazes of the swordsman and the assassin met in mid-air.

A momentary standoff. The swordsman spoke first.

“I’ll give you time. If you want to keep your limbs intact, surrender now.”

It was an outrageous statement.

The assassin had navigated the heavily guarded estate as if it were his own home.

And yet, the swordsman was claiming he could subdue the assassin at any moment.

But the assassin showed no reaction. No anger, no despair.

The assassin was contemplating how to eliminate this obstacle in this very moment.

The options of dodging or fleeing were out of the question. His mission was to eliminate the target. Failure was not an option.

At the same time, killing the target while avoiding the swordsman was also impossible. That was the conclusion he reached after coldly analyzing the swordsman’s skill.

When the assassin’s brief contemplation ended, as if by some unspoken agreement, both the swordsman and the assassin lunged at each other simultaneously.

In the darkness, swords bared their fangs at one another.