Boom!!
The conclusion of the match was in an instant.
No matter how tough one is, it seems that enduring two consecutive brain-shaking impacts was impossible, as the opponent’s massive body toppled over just like that.
Bending down, I retrieved the armband marked with “地” and, just to check, I touched the unconscious man’s nose with my finger.
Suuuu—
Fortunately, he was breathing.
However, since he was so big, I thought he would be a nuisance if left as is, so I moved the fainted man to the side and stretched proudly.
“Ugh!”
With this, I had completed my goal of collecting 10 armbands.
It felt like it ended much quicker than I initially thought, but having extra time wasn’t a bad thing, so I looked around.
“Huh?”
If it wasn’t just my imagination, this area seemed completely devoid of people?
“Is it all over?”
“Ah, yes.”
At that moment, Dokgorin casually approached me and, feeling flustered, I nodded. I then understood the reason when I saw the immense number of armbands in her hand.
“I just tried a little harder since they’re all competitors anyway.”
In Dokgorin’s hand were dozens of paper armbands.
“I-I see.”
Once again, I realized the gap in skill between her and me.
‘I must absolutely not get cocky.’
*
The first exam ended precisely one hour after it began.
“Examinees who have been eliminated, please exit the examination hall!”
Those who failed to collect 10 armbands by the time limit or were eliminated early by losing their armbands all rushed out, leaving about 800 people remaining in the examination hall.
The Exam Administrator, Geomhu Un Giik, had anticipated that the number of examinees would be reduced to a tenth, but in reality, even more had dropped out.
The probable reason was that the short time limit had prevented several from collecting all 10 armbands.
Among those who barely failed the first exam, there were cases of desperation, claiming this was their last chance, but such individuals were swiftly subdued by the Murim Association warriors waiting nearby, dragged out of the examination hall.
Once all the stragglers were out, the remaining group for the second exam clearly looked like a serious bunch.
‘But why do they all seem so old?’
I knew the eligible age was from 14 to 20, but why did so many look to be in their 20s or 30s?
Even if olden folk suffered from fast skin aging due to not applying sunscreen and wandering under the hot sun, isn’t this a bit extreme?
After I sanitized my vision by scanning a handful of youths, I focused on a middle-aged woman who stood on the platform, presumably the supervisor for the second exam.
She, too, seemed to be a famous figure like Un Giik from the first exam, as I could already hear murmurs among the examinees.
“It’s Geomhu.”
“Why is Geomhu here as an examiner?”
“Could it be that Geomhu has become a teacher at Cheonmu Academy from this year?”
Geomhu (劍后).
Originally a title for the head of the female sect, Botamun, it had shifted to denote the strongest female warriors among the martial artists transitioning to new martial arts.
However, Geomhu had never been mentioned in the Cheonduck Witch storyline, so I found it hard to tell whether this one was the former or the latter.
Judging by her long hair, she probably belonged to the latter, but honestly, given South Korean martial arts, it wouldn’t be strange if she were the former.
Anyway, the middle-aged woman called Geomhu, upon feeling the gaze of the examinees on her, cleared her throat softly and spoke.
“Congratulations to the examinees who passed the first exam. My name is Chae Seoljin. In the martial world, I am disrespectfully referred to as Geomhu. The reason I stand before you today is that I’ll be overseeing the second exam.”
As she spoke while taking in the students’ appearances, she offered a faint smile.
“You all remaining here likely have confidence in your own abilities. However, know that everyone gathered in this Cheonmu Academy is a talent hailing from all corners of the world. Please temporarily cast aside the thought that you will be the most exceptional and focus on learning as much as you can from this experience.”
After saying this, Geomhu suddenly seemed to remember something, exclaiming, “Oh!”
“I haven’t mentioned the details of the second exam. From now on, you will each engage in friendly matches with 10 warriors prepared by the academy. With 800 remaining participants, that means you’ll face about 80 people each. Um, let’s establish a slight limit. How about finishing your match within ten exchanges?”
The examinees began to chatter.
“How can we get through the matches with just ten exchanges?” they seemed confused.
But Geomhu then pierced through them with her words.
“Why do you think you wouldn’t finish a fight within ten exchanges? In actual combat, the outcome is usually decided within ten exchanges. Unless you’re facing someone of similar level, sometimes fights finish in just one exchange with an inferior opponent.”
She might have softened it a bit, but the underlying sentiment seemed to suggest they should stop whining and just fight.
In any case, it looked like she had no intention of altering the exam content, as most examinees seemed resigned to accepting the test’s demands.
What could they do if they didn’t agree anyway?
If they wanted to complain, they’d just have to gamble on next year’s exam.
Anyway, thus began the second exam.
The ten examiners pulled from the academy turned out to be graduates of Cheonmu Academy who were now working for the Shashin Corps, a martial arts organization under the Murim Association.
That is, the fledgling examinees here were face to face with those who had grown larger, and as Geomhu said, many examinees were likely to fail without even achieving ten exchanges, let alone one.
Some voiced their concerns about the exam’s difficulty, but Geomhu firmly dismissed such complaints, arguing that if they couldn’t endure this much, they wouldn’t be able to adapt even within the Cheonmu Academy.
As the second exam proceeded in turns, it seemed that the matches, lasting anywhere from 5 to 30 seconds each, sped by quickly.
“Examinee number 513?”
“Yes.”
After hearing my name called, I stepped forward to meet my opponent, a sturdy-looking warrior.
“You don’t need to be too nervous; feel free to come at me whenever.”
He said that while showing a stance that, at first glance, appeared full of openings, but in reality, there were no apparent gaps to exploit.
‘So this is what happens when you’re up against graduates.’
How could I possibly target the person right in front of me?
I clenched my fists, observing the man.
Overall, he had a lean physique, but notably, his left arm was more developed than the right.
He was likely a left-hander.
If he used a left-handed sword, the sword at his left waist would be a backup, but I couldn’t let my guard down.
Like most left-handed individuals, it’s possible he could use both hands effectively.
Yet if I started evaluating every possible outcome, I might find myself unable to act at all, so I chose to charge ahead instead.
“Suuup—”
Drawing in the energy within my dantian, I gathered it into both my fists.
If my opponent were to be caught off-guard, I’d plan to execute a surprise attack with a sneak move, but he didn’t seem unaware.
Then, my best option was to break down his solid defense and force him to reveal an opening.
The technique suited for this was the fourth technique of the Tangmun Swordsmanship, the “Dae-gwaeui-hyeol” (隄潰蟻穴).
“I’m coming!”
Announcing so out of courtesy, I immediately used the “Woolbo” technique to close the distance.
“!”
The moment I got close, he wore an astonished expression.
Yet, from the way he still tracked my movements, it was clear I was not facing an easy opponent.
So—
I decided to disrupt his action of reaching for his sword at his right hip with a punch.
Pakang!
But the man was a tad quicker.
Perhaps short on time to draw his blade, he nonetheless managed to block my punch with the scabbard.
But now that the distance had closed, he couldn’t easily retreat, so I continued in a brawl.
Two exchanges, three exchanges, four exchanges.
The number of exchanges quickly rose.
Before long, the friendly match became a matter of pride between me trying to prevent him from drawing his sword and him determined to pull it out.
I instinctively felt that once he drew his sword, I would be outmatched, but the “Dae-gwaeui-hyeol” technique is also about repeatedly hitting the same spot to induce the opponent to reveal an opening.
Finally, after an exhausting eight exchanges, the opponent managed to draw his sword.
With just two exchanges remaining in the match, I decided to risk it all.
Acting as if I was going to strike his weapon again, I completely switched my pattern and targeted his unprotected upper body.
An overhead kick with all my body weight.
Until now, I had only used punches—this moment was what I had been preparing for.
