Episode 122: Explosion of Romance at the Martial Arts Tournament
The next day.
After carefully reviewing all the specifics about the Martial Arts Festival and the client’s requirements, I was preparing to participate when Carhalas found me.
“Hey… Jung Yong. Do you have a moment?”
To clarify, I had convinced Carhalas to speak to me informally, though somewhat forcefully.
“Why? She kept insisting on calling me ‘Lord Jung Yong’ and using the utmost formalities, so I blocked that in advance.”
I couldn’t handle the triple “Lord Jung Yong” stack. People like me, at the bottom rung of society, feel uncomfortable when hearing overly polite titles.
The results have been satisfactory. I now intend to gradually adjust the speech patterns of Seop Baek and Seseona as well.
“Hey, what’s up, Carhalas?”
“That… this thing written here. Are you really submitting this?”
Carhalas hesitated, holding a piece of paper. It contained the information I had handed over earlier.
I blinked and asked her.
“Why haven’t you submitted it yet?”
“Well, you see…”
Carhalas skimmed over the paper once more and looked me straight in the face.
Her tone filled with discomfort, she hesitantly began.
“The use of a pseudonym is technically allowed by the rules, so it should be fine… But do you really intend to use this one?”
“What’s the problem?”
“There’s no real problem, but…”
“But what?”
“B-b… ‘Bathed in Blood, the Shadow of the Moon’? I-I, what does this even mean?”
That was the issue. I opened my mouth to explain.
—Hahahe! Blood-soaked Moon Shadow exceeded their limit! Damn bastard, even I’m getting goosebumps!
To my explanation, however, Older Brother Sooho burst out laughing louder than me.
Admittedly, it was only half-joking, but with Sooho openly mocking me, Park Jeong-yong’s innate skill—’Twisted Obstinacy’—emerged. I replied with a sullen tone.
“What? What’s wrong with ‘Bathed in Blood, the Shadow of the Moon’?”
A masked fighter with this cheesy pseudonym sweeping through the martial arts tournament. The truth is, it was me. Everyone probably had these kinds of daydreams back in middle school, right? Was I really the only one?
Anyway, here was my chance to realize this dream. There was no reason to turn it down.
“Just submit it as it is. They said it doesn’t matter what pseudonym we choose.”
“It doesn’t matter, but this… ugh, it’s so cringe! No one has ever used a pseudonym this long!”
“We’re creating a new fashion trend.”
“Ah…”
It seemed she was trying hard to change my mind, but I stubbornly refused to budge. In the end, Carhalas had no choice but to return, defeated.
Right after, the door opened again with a creak.
Thinking Carhalas might still have lingering doubts, I abruptly turned around to find Seop Baek and Seseona standing there.
“Are we leaving now, Lord Jung Yong?”
“Woah! I’m excited to see Lord Jung Yong fight in the tournament!”
Surprisingly, they readily accepted my sudden announcement of participating in the Martial Arts Festival for the prize money, and they even encouraged me.
When I asked them why they didn’t object, their reasons were roughly this:
“That… watching you duel with Master Adrang made me realize something. Lord Jung Yong, you’ve reached a completely different level than me. So, if I don’t become stronger myself…”
“I can’t persuade you anyway, right? Besides, it doesn’t seem like Lord Jung Yong will lose easily!”
Though their reasons for not stopping me varied slightly, they seemed impressed after watching my duel with Adrang.
Seop Baek, especially, made efforts to befriend Carhalas, asking her about ways to quickly grow stronger.
She didn’t want to hold me back, a sign of maturity that made me chuckle.
“Seop Baek, today be sure to ask Master Adrang to return that ring to you. Understand?”
“Yes, don’t worry. I want to take it off as soon as possible anyway.”
“Good.”
Only after getting several confirmations from her did I finally nod, satisfied.
“I’m leaving.”
I waved to them casually. They responded with bright smiles.
“Work hard, Lord Jung Yong! We’ll be cheering for you!”
“Win the prize money and treat us to good food! We’ll be watching from the stands!”
Encouraged by Seop Baek and Seseona, I gave them a reliable thumbs-up and headed straight towards the stadium.
Whoa—! The distant roar of the crowd was deafening as it reached my ears.
*
“Make it all the way to the finals and then withdraw just before the Cavalier title match…”
To attend the opening ceremony at the central stadium of the capital, I was heading there and refreshing the mission given by Carhalas.
The scene from yesterday came back to my mind when Carhalas seriously told me:
—You’ll have no difficulty passing through the preliminaries with the skills you’ve shown. And for the main event, just fight and clear the opponents I mentioned to you.
—And for the Cavalier championship… if you’re considering becoming a Cavalier, you can challenge. And if you’re not considering it, withdrawing is also fine. Got it?
According to what I learned from Carhalas:
The Martial Arts Festival is divided into three stages: the preliminaries, the main event, and the Cavalier championship.
“First is the preliminaries.”
This is the stage that filters out countless novices. Selected randomly by lottery, participants compete against each other in a tournament-style elimination until the final shortlist of about 500 people is reduced.
“Next is the main event.”
While the preliminaries were a knockout format, the main event uses a modified league system. The 500 qualified participants select their own 10 opponents for a series of matches, with no repeating adversaries.
Once the 10 matches are completed, the results don’t matter; the tournament is over for that competitor. The scores from these matches decide the final 100 participants based on their rankings.
There is one special rule here. Even if a participant ends up with 9 losses out of 9 matches and looks hopeless, if they can defeat a current Cavalier, they will automatically qualify, and the lowest ranked winner among the winners will be eliminated.
“The final stage is the Cavalier championship.”
Among the final 100 survivors, anyone who has the intention to challenge the Cavalier status is, essentially, a “Cavalier candidate” as Carhalas described it. This is where the Martial Arts Festival truly begins to bloom.
These 100 Cavalier candidates directly combat the current Cavaliers. The battle begins for those striving to seize the throne.
This is effectively a ranking tournament for the elite, a transfer of power. With the final 100 participants having survived life-and-death competition, the match levels are overwhelmingly high. The theme of new versus old power draws overwhelming popularity.
“Anyway, all I need to do is win until the main event. What happens afterward, I don’t care.”
It’s obvious, but I have absolutely no interest in Cavaliers or anything related.
I’ll just forfeit before the Cavalier Championship. The prize money and rewards only go up to the main event, which is fine with me.
Buying a home was an appealing opportunity. But the responsibilities attached to the Cavalier title are too great.
“Even Knights like Adrang get dispatched to the provinces.”
Why? To stop the Demon King, who rampages uncontrollably throughout the continent at any given time.
Right now, with Adrang back, another Knight probably took his place.
In essence, this was a shift in guard duties.
Knights are the sharpest spears and the strongest shields protecting Markeuteuriseu.
In nicer words, but essentially, a Knight’s main job isn’t anything extraordinary. Those stationed in the center handle politics, while those dispatched to the provinces serve as border guards.
Similar to the South Korean army officers stationed at the front lines for constant vigilance, these Knights function as basic soldiers keeping watch. The only difference is their status, honor, and enormous remuneration.
It’s a highly respectable and noble job akin to first responders, yet even though it pays well, the work feels like passion pay.
“Mittelrand had 11 Demon Kings in a month and a half.”
Do that job for an entire lifetime? Absolutely not.
Respect from the populace? Give it to the dogs. I doubt even they’d find it appealing.
I know from my own military experience. Constant emergency deployments are inhumane.
“Here we are.”
As these thoughts raced through my mind, I arrived at the stadium and sauntered inside.
Looking around, I couldn’t help but whistle.
“Wow, just as I imagined.”
It looks like a typical Colosseum but on an enormous scale.
I’ve never seen a stadium of this magnitude on Earth. I had to nearly crane my neck to barely see the top edge of the building.
Inside, there were dozens of square arenas set up to host simultaneous competitions. Fans were already seated in large numbers, murmuring excitedly and buzzing with anticipation.
“Participants, please gather over here! We’ll briefly explain the order of the opening ceremony and the protocol of the Knight’s salutes.”
“Visitors, over here please!”
“Please maintain order! We will use force against those who refuse to comply!!”
The grim atmosphere was reinforced by the event coordinators leading the crowd.
If the mention of using force wasn’t a joke, judging from their status windows, these folks were all over level 200.
“Level 200 masters aren’t that common.”
That’s impressive. They’ve really gathered people from everywhere. This is truly a major event.
Realizing the scale of it, I proceeded to participate in the opening ceremony led by the coordinators.
“Ah, are you also a participant?”
As I was walking along, a guy nearby started a conversation with me.
I glanced over.
“Yes. Who are you?”
Hmm. He’s just an ordinary-looking, somewhat chubby uncle.
About early 40s, shorter than me, but with a bulky frame and impressive muscles. Despite this, his fashion sense seemed stuck in the farmer’s era with bell-bottom pants.
“Not Korean, I think.”
He had black eyes, black hair, half of which was bald.
It’s a fact: halfway bald hair looks twice as pitiful. It brought tears to my eyes involuntarily.
“My name’s Frel. Thought you looked familiar with the hair color. Nice to meet you. Frel at your service.”
The bearded man, smiling heartily, extended his hand.
Just a very friendly older guy, right? He’s also participating in the Martial Arts Festival, perhaps.
They said there are 10,000 participants in the preliminaries. Seems everyone above a certain level has decided to enter.
“…Park Jeong-yong.”
“Frel Jongnyong. That’s an unusual surname, isn’t it? Are you a descendant of a hero?”
What’s with the reverse order? Are you a Gonnyong friend?
Moreover, he seems to think my surname comes first. Guess it’s understandable. Introducing myself as ‘Jongnyong Frel’ from now on might be appropriate.
I accepted my fate and nodded.
“Call me whatever is convenient for you.”
“Alright, Frel. How’s your condition?”
“Fair enough, yours?”
“Best condition! Today feels like it’s been 20 years since I last made it to the main tournament!”
“Ah…”
“Winning some prize money might prevent my wife from nagging for a while… Hehe.”
This is his fifth participation—20 years. Definitely a veteran participant of this festival.
His reasons for participating are grounded and resonate with me. My affinity towards this man rose significantly after a brief exchange, but a worry crept in.
“This is life-and-death combat, after all… people do die… huh.”
Well, being nagged must be worse than dying, it seems.
All the breadwinners of Earth and the Alternative World—fighting spirit!
“Still, something feels strange…”
Exams, Gangnok, and the Halsenberg… Even here in the Alternative World, I seem to gravitate towards middle-aged uncles rather than peers… is it due to years of mingling with down-and-out uncles while doing menial labor?
I shuddered at the thought. The uncle glanced around and muttered.
“Even after five times of attending the opening ceremony, my heart still races with excitement.”
“Does anything dramatic happen at the opening ceremony?”
“Nothing spectacular really. There’s a Cavalier parade, the participants exchange salutes, prizes and rewards are announced… Oh! The best part is the aerial stunts by the Unterland and the Dragon Empire, and the magic show by Mittelrand! After that, a moment of silence is held for the patriotic martyrs.”
“Ah… I see.”
Ugh. Even a moment of silence for patriotic martyrs… I shook my head vigorously to dislodge the haunting melody embedded in my subconscious.
As my gaze scanned the surroundings, it eventually landed on the lofty top of the packed stands.
“Given this is the opening ceremony… can we really expect to see anything from here?”
The stadium’s size allows for a vast number of spectators, but it’s so enormous that those seated in the back wouldn’t see anything. There’s no giant screen technology or anything here, right?
I muttered to myself while walking when suddenly Frel exclaimed, pointing at something in the sky.
“Ah, well… we’re not high-class gentlemen but… look, it’s arriving right now.”
“Huh?”
Suddenly, a massive shadow loomed over the stadium.
Frel was staring at some point in the sky. Following his gaze, I looked up.
My mouth hung open in astonishment, but I managed to ask.
“Uncle Frel, what in the world… is that?”
Something truly enormous was flying overhead.
At first glance, it reminded me of ‘Howl’s Moving Castle.’
Except, instead of legs, it was equipped with numerous massive propellers and wings. It had a much more refined appearance. And it was heavily armed with countless cannons and turrets.
This unidentified flying object, larger than the Martial Arts Festival stadium, completely blanketed the stadium’s sky with its imposing presence and sound.
“The Flagship Leviathan! It was created using all the engineering expertise of Paraiso, the strongest magical-artillery weapon and fortified capital! It’s the moving heart of Unterland!”
Frel spoke with genuine pride, as if he’d personally built it. He probably just enjoys seeing my stunned reaction.
Dumbfounded, I let out an exclamation and stared upward in a daze.
—Though the Dragon Empire might not have anything similar, Unterland is definitely peculiar.
A comment from Zenon just before we parted flashed through my mind.
He truly is unconventional. I let out a hollow chuckle.
