Chapter 132

When Namgung Woo rushed out to find Namgung Sol after hearing the Yang Brothers’ frantic words, the sound of blankets being kicked echoed endlessly from a room in the annex of Changmu Inn.

“Ugh! Jegal Seon-a, you idiot! Idiot! Idiooot!!”

Jegal Seon-a, lying on the bed and repeatedly kicking the blankets, suddenly realized Paeng Ha-ryeong was in the next room. She quickly pulled the blanket over herself and turned away. Naturally burying her face in the pillow, her vision went dark.

As her sight darkened, her mind, deprived of visual input, began replaying memories of what she had been thinking about. It was a phenomenon where the more she tried to forget, the more vividly the memories surfaced.

What filled Jegal Seon-a’s mind was the events of that morning. Having stayed up almost all night, she prepared to leave her room a bit earlier than her usual breakfast time. It was timed to coincide with Namgung Woo finishing his morning training, as he always woke up earlier than anyone else.

As soon as she opened the door, she ran straight into Namgung Woo, who was about to knock.

‘What the heck is this “hyeek”?!’

Yes, “hyeek”… It was a pitiful scream, but it was understandable. Anyone would be startled if they opened the door and suddenly faced someone else. Even a peerless master would probably react the same way… maybe.

Anyway, up to this point, it was manageable.

But the problem came right after.

Perhaps feeling some relief that Namgung Woo had come to her before she even went to him, Jegal Seon-a couldn’t hold back and burst into tears.

Since ancient times, women have possessed a mysterious martial art that men cannot replicate, known as the “First Strike Victory.”

In the midst of her panic, Namgung Woo quickly spread his robe to cover her, preventing a disaster where her crying would have woken everyone up at dawn.

With her tension completely snapped, Jegal Seon-a grabbed Namgung Woo, who suggested they talk inside, and poured out all the words she had been holding back. Once she started, her words flowed like a dam breaking, unstoppable.

Half of it was crying, and she rambled on without thinking, so even Jegal Seon-a herself didn’t know what she was saying. But amidst it all, one phrase stuck clearly in her memory.

“Can’t you give me a chance too? I know this isn’t right, I know Ha-ryeong is there, I know I’m late… but still… can’t you wait for me?”

A plea for a chance.

A plea to wait.

It was a shameless request, considering Paeng Ha-ryeong, and it might not be welcomed by his family, given the future Namgung Woo would face, but still.

Jegal Seon-a wanted to be honest with her feelings.

She had always acted according to others’ emotions, knowing how they felt.

She thought this time would be the same.

She thought it might be a delusion caused by her resonance power overreacting to the salvation that came in an extreme situation, but she was wrong.

She realized it clearly yesterday.

Despite Namgung Woo’s overwhelming presence causing her resonance power to resonate uncontrollably, her own emotions remained distinct and undiluted by his.

Her own disappointment and sadness, separate from Namgung Woo’s mixed feelings of guilt and determination.

It was the disappointment of not being chosen in the end, and the sadness of holding onto someone she couldn’t reach.

It might have started because of her resonance power. The first meeting might have been too intense.

But the tower of emotions she built during the Unmong Great War was undoubtedly her own.

And then…

“Sniff, sniff…!”

A strange laugh escaped Jegal Seon-a’s lips, who had been acting like she carried all the world’s troubles alone.

As if she had bipolar disorder, her tearful face now wore a sly smile.

But who cares? No one was watching. And she had heard the answer.

“Seon-a~! Breakfast is ready. Come down!”

“Ah! Okay! I’m coming, Ha-ryeong!!”

§

Ak Cheol-bi, the Strong Dragon.

He was determined to win this martial duel competition.

Having reached the peak at a young age, Ak Cheol-bi stood as the hope of his family. The Sandong Ak Family, often regarded as the last of the Seven Great Families, was a title he despised.

Being the last of the Seven Great Families. Who would be happy with that? Being part of the Seven Great Families was already a great achievement, but people always focused more on being the last.

There were unavoidable circumstances. Just as the Hapbuk Paeng Family always had to watch the Imperial Family in Beijing, the Sandong Ak Family had to be mindful of the Shinchang Yang Family in Qingzhou.

It was laughable to have to watch another martial family, but it was a well-known fact that the Shinchang Yang Family was the eyes and hands of the Imperial Family. Unfortunately, the Ak Family didn’t have a peerless master like the Yang Family.

The symbolism of a peerless master was immense. The Ak Family had to live with the Yang Family as their watchers, trying not to give them any excuses.

The day Ak Cheol-bi learned of his family’s reality, he vowed to elevate the Sandong Ak Family to the top of the Seven Great Families with his own hands.

Winning the martial duel competition would be the first step.

He boldly entered his first martial duel competition, only to realize he was still a frog in a well.

Paeng Ja-ryeong, a late-blooming prodigy from another of the Seven Great Families, blocked his unstoppable winning streak. Paeng Ja-ryeong’s skills were on a completely different level from what Ak Cheol-bi had faced before.

The defeat was bitter, but acceptable. Paeng Ja-ryeong was four years older and the legitimate son of the Thunderous Blade King, Paeng Hu-sang.

But Paeng Ja-ryeong wasn’t the end. After defeating Ak Cheol-bi and advancing to the third round, Paeng Ja-ryeong lost to a disciple from the Jeomchang Sect.

Namhwa-ok, the Shining Jade of the South. Her level was in a different realm.

Ak Cheol-bi accepted this too. Yes, one had to be at that level to win the martial duel competition and be considered the peak of the generation. It fueled his competitive spirit and desire for improvement.

But when the competition ended, Ak Cheol-bi’s expectations were shattered again. Namhwa-ok didn’t win. She lost not because she was tired from fighting Paeng Ja-ryeong or because of some special issue, but because she was overwhelmed by sheer skill.

The appearance of the Blue Star Divine Sword.

An incarnation of martial arts that Ak Cheol-bi couldn’t comprehend was there.

That day, Ak Cheol-bi was crushed. He gave up, thinking he could never reach that level.

He was ready to climb mountains, but not to fly in the sky.

But he got back up. Ak Cheol-bi overcame his inner demons and picked up his spear again. And when he overcame his demons, despite neglecting his martial arts, he paradoxically advanced to the next level.

Perhaps the current Ak Cheol-bi was stronger than Paeng Ja-ryeong from the last competition.

Maybe he had even reached the level of Namhwa-ok, who had partially broken through the transcendent peak and manifested sword aura, albeit incompletely.

He had the strength to aim for victory. Except for the Blue Star Divine Sword, Hagyeong Jinin, who was an exception among exceptions. Objectively, Ak Cheol-bi’s level was not lacking as a winner.

He had even lamented the heavens when he heard that some guy from Changcheon Pavilion had become a peerless master at a younger age than Hagyeong Jinin, but fortunately, the Martial Alliance didn’t repeat the same mistake as last time.

Ak Cheol-bi thought there were no obstacles left on his path to victory, but…

The world wasn’t so kind.

“Ugh…!”

A pained groan escaped Ak Cheol-bi’s lips.

‘Only four exchanges…’

He was overwhelmed. He wasn’t sure if he could block the next sword strike.

He couldn’t lose. With that determination, Ak Cheol-bi channeled his internal energy into his spear. Crudely, but aura energy began to envelop the spear.

‘One spear strike to decide the outcome!’

The Ak Family’s ultimate secret technique.

One Thrust to Dye the River Red.

The strongest strike, said to dye the entire river red with one thrust, was about to be unleashed through Ak Cheol-bi’s spear.

But the opponent’s sword slipped through the tiniest gap in the spear’s thrust.

Crack-

A small sound.

But to Ak Cheol-bi, it sounded like thunder.

The sound of the sword cutting through the spear shaft and even his martial robe was like a bell tolling the end of his martial duel competition.

Ak Cheol-bi stopped his One Thrust to Dye the River Red and lowered his head and hands. In his downward gaze, he saw the sword mark that had only cut his robe.

It was a masterful technique. Cutting only the thin fabric without touching his skin. If this had been a life-and-death duel, that blade would have bisected him.

“……Thank you for sparing me.”

“What a pity.”

“What do you mean?”

“That last spear.”

Dokgo Bin sheathed her sword and spoke as if shaking off regret.

“I was curious. The Ak Family’s One Thrust to Dye the River Red. I wanted to see how great it was.”

“You didn’t seem hesitant at all.”

“There’s something else I’m more curious about.”

If the Paeng Family has the Five Tigers Severing Gate Blade, and the Dang Family has the Ten Thousand Flowers Rain, then the Ak Family has the One Thrust to Dye the River Red.

Hearing that such a proud martial art was pushed aside made Ak Cheol-bi’s blood boil.

But what could a loser say? Once again, Ak Cheol-bi swallowed his bitterness and vowed to try again.

With the end of the duel, the customary bow. The extra force in Ak Cheol-bi’s clenched fist was no illusion.

But Dokgo Bin was no longer interested. She pursued the aura she had never forgotten since that day.

‘You’ve come.’