The second round of the Martial Duel Tournament finals.
Only 8 participants remained, and it was the day to narrow down to 4, determining the final contenders for the third round.
For Namgung Woo, who hadn’t seen Seomun Pyo during the first round, this was his first time watching.
Namgung Woo had high expectations for the competition among the carefully selected Late Blooming Prodigies from the White Path Martial World.
And indeed, the finals did not disappoint him.
“Being from the Ak Family, Ak Cheol-bi’s strength is truly remarkable. Last tournament, he only made it to the second round because he ran into my brother, but this time, he might make it to the finals.”
Paeng Ha-ryeong subtly praised her brother, Paeng Ja-ryeong, while commending Ak Cheol-bi’s skills.
Indeed, Ak Cheol-bi’s strength, almost on par with Geumshin, was nearing the Transcendent Peak. It was like watching a cup on the verge of overflowing.
Considering that even young Transcendent Peak Masters are respected as renowned figures in the martial world, Ak Cheol-bi’s level was rare among Late Blooming Prodigies.
“What a pity… I should have been there, discussing martial arts with them.”
“Now that I think about it, didn’t you lose? I didn’t hear the details.”
Namgung Woo asked, puzzled as to why Geumshin had lost.
“Yes, embarrassingly so.”
“Commander, he lost without even putting up a fight.”
“Stop with the nonsense! He did counterattack.”
“Wasn’t it you, Geumshin, who said that wasn’t a proper effective hit?”
Ak Cheol-bi and Geumshin’s strength was evenly matched. If Geumshin lost, it meant there was someone even stronger.
“A martial artist who defeated Geumshin… I’m looking forward to it.”
In terms of pure strength, Namgung Woo was unmatched, even within the entire Martial Alliance, except perhaps for Gakwon. But regardless, the diverse martial arts displayed in the duel were worth watching.
Watching their fresh techniques, Namgung Woo found much to learn.
What if it was the martial artist who defeated Geumshin?
Perhaps sensing the Changcheon Pavilion’s internal discussion, Princess Jihyang spoke up.
“Is that bald man over there Geumshin?”
“Yes, that’s him.”
“Is he really that strong?”
How to explain? Saying he’s about as strong as Ak Cheol-bi might give a rough idea, but it wouldn’t fully convey it.
Namgung Woo knew a better analogy that Jihyang would understand.
“If he were to face Miss Yang, he might have a slight advantage.”
“Se-rim?”
“Senior Geumshin?”
Two reactions sprang from one answer.
The voices from both sides of Namgung Woo were strikingly similar.
Jihyang, knowing Yang Se-rim’s strength, was surprised that Geumshin was so strong, while Paeng Ha-ryeong, knowing Geumshin’s strength, was even more shocked that Yang Se-rim, who looked several years younger, possessed such skill.
Of course, this was purely in terms of martial prowess. In actual combat, variables like environment and physical condition could unpredictably sway the outcome.
That a barely 20-year-old Yang Se-rim could be compared to Geumshin, the second strongest in Changcheon Pavilion, was almost unbelievable.
“Pfft, did you hear that? You wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“Hmph! Nonsense. You never know until you fight. I’m a practical fighter, a practical fighter.”
Yang Kwae’s retort to Myorin’s teasing drifted away in the sea of indifference.
Even Geumshin and Yang Se-rim, amidst their surprise, focused on the mentioned opponent, while the only calm listener suddenly stood up, drawing attention.
“It’s my turn.”
Namgung Sol’s focus had been entirely on the duel arena from start to finish, so even Namgung Woo’s shocking statement didn’t distract them from announcing their turn.
And from the opposite side, the second-round opponent appeared.
Dressed entirely in black, with a bamboo hat veiled in mesh.
“That person…!”
Geumshin’s eyes widened as he shot up from his seat upon seeing Namgung Sol’s second-round opponent.
His actions spoke volumes.
Namgung Woo realized this was the person who had eliminated Geumshin in the preliminaries.
And when he opened his Azure Tranquility Eyes to observe the opponent, Namgung Woo recognized them as someone he knew.
As the thought of informing Namgung Sol about the opponent’s identity crossed his mind, Namgung Sol was already stepping onto the arena.
‘Sending a Whispering Transmission would suffice…’
But the thought that revealing the opponent’s identity might be more dangerous suddenly struck Namgung Woo.
‘I’ll watch for a bit.’
Given that Namgung Sol’s information was well-known among the White Path Martial World’s leadership, the opponent likely knew as well.
But this was the Martial Duel Tournament, held at the heart of the White Path Martial World. If the opponent had any sense, they wouldn’t cause trouble immediately.
‘Still, I should be ready to intervene at any moment.’
Namgung Woo began circulating his internal energy, warming up his body to be ready to step in at any moment.
As if responding, the Cheongdangon, comfortably sprawled on Namgung Woo’s lap, lifted its head and looked at him.
With a look that seemed to ask if it should move, Namgung Woo gently scratched under Cheongdangon’s chin and lifted it, following what he had learned from Jihyang.
“Um… Ha-ryeong.”
“Yes, oppa!”
Paeng Ha-ryeong’s voice was unusually loud today.
“Can you take care of it for a while?”
“Purrr…”
Are you my next cushion?!
With a truly kingly demeanor, Cheongdangon was handed over to Paeng Ha-ryeong.
Jihyang, subtly annoyed at being overlooked, was already forgotten as Paeng Ha-ryeong busily played with Cheongdangon’s front paws.
“It’s started!”
Yang Jeong, who had been ignoring the commotion and focusing on the arena, shouted.
Namgung Sol’s second finals match had begun.
§
Namgung Sol no longer felt the anxiety and fear of the finals.
Perhaps having adapted, Namgung Sol stepped onto the arena with a calm demeanor.
But predicting what the opponent would say next was beyond Namgung Sol’s expectations.
“It’s you.”
The sudden remark left Namgung Sol bewildered.
Since when did they know each other?
Still, Namgung Sol regained composure and replied.
“Excuse me? What do you mean…”
“You’re that person’s disciple, right? For that, your level is below expectations. I hope you’ve grown enough to show something.”
“Do you know that person?”
Namgung Sol inwardly lamented the cruel matchmaking.
From the first finals opponent being Namgung Woo’s friend to now another acquaintance of his.
Regardless of the opponent being Namgung Woo’s acquaintance, the earlier remark couldn’t be ignored.
They knew. That this position was too much for Namgung Sol, and that great luck had brought them this far.
Purely in terms of martial prowess, Namgung Sol should have been eliminated in the first preliminary duel.
But still, they didn’t want to hear that they were unworthy as Namgung Woo’s disciple.
“I’ll give you three seconds.”
“…Huh?”
“Show me the sword you learned from him.”
Following the harsh critique, the arrogant declaration of giving three moves.
The resolve to maintain etiquette and dignity, as Song Chaeji had, crumbled.
Namgung Sol transformed from a squirrel to a fierce beast.
“That arrogance… I’ll make you regret it.”
“Really? Three seconds might not be enough. Well, I don’t expect much, so give it your all.”
Boiling.
Namgung Sol felt for the first time what it meant to have one’s stomach twist in anger.
A sensation entirely different from having one’s world collapse or heart sink.
With the mindset of a life-and-death battle, Namgung Sol gripped their sword.
“Here I go!”
With a spirited shout, Namgung Sol immediately unleashed sword energy.
There was no thought of holding back. Even if this ended their tournament journey, they poured all their strength into it.
The nimble Swallow Spin Step combined with the unpredictable Azure Sky Flying Swallow Sword Technique shot forth.
Clang! Swish!
Despite the declaration, the opponent arrogantly hadn’t even drawn their sword.
Namgung Sol swung their sword, aiming to knock off the opponent’s bamboo hat, and the blade perfectly followed the desired trajectory.
‘Got them!’
How hasty a misjudgment that was.
Whoosh—Swish! Clang!
Namgung Sol blinked.
‘What? I didn’t see it. What just happened?’
None of their senses, not even their sixth sense, could grasp the situation.
All they felt was the lingering numbness in their hand after everything ended.
They weren’t even sure if the opponent had drawn their sword. Only that their attack had been completely countered.
“You should have aimed for the neck.”
A reproach for not using a proper killing move.
Namgung Sol’s expression twisted further.
Was that even reasonable? Even with a life-and-death mindset, this was still a duel.
How could they intentionally use a killing move?
But the opponent seemed to think otherwise.
“Attacks without killing intent won’t win unless you achieve your master’s level of accomplishment.”
“Ugh…! You keep mentioning that person, how dare you…!”
“That’s why your blade won’t reach the enemy before you.”
“…What?”
Though hidden by the veil, Namgung Sol felt the opponent was smiling.
“Namgung, right? You.”
[And your master too.]