“The winner of this martial bout is… Dan Mok-kyeong of the Patrol Squad!”
“Dan Mok-kyeong? Who’s that?”
“I don’t know either. However… doesn’t it seem like a promising young talent has emerged, one whose future is worth anticipating?”
“That’s true.”
The audience applauded and cheered for the young, previously unknown martial artist whose name had emerged from obscurity. Mok-kyeong quietly took in the scene around her, respectfully performed a martial bow, and then turned around and walked back toward the waiting room.
Song Muhan finally pushed himself up, wobbling slightly as he did so, and stared blankly in the direction Mok-kyeong had disappeared to before clinching his teeth and turning away.
“What kind of monster is that…”
Even after a long fight, why does he still feel such a sense of inadequacy? Song Muhan shuddered as he picked up his fallen cherished weapon, an axe, while contemplating the alarming talent of the opponent who had quickly discerned and exploited the weaknesses in his martial techniques within moments of their confrontation.
The axe’s blade was extensively notched, as if it had collided dozens of times with his opponent’s weapon.
“Just how many swings did she do in that instant?”
The strategy of making up for strength with sheer frequency of attacks was certainly unconventional. And that this strategy was successfully implemented—Song Muhan wondered if perhaps today he had truly met a prodigy.
“Where in the world does someone like her come from…”
“Hmph.”
In the waiting room where no one could hear his voice, the heavy sigh of a giant echoed throughout.
—
Competitors around the same level, and yet… I can’t match up.
I’m astonished yet oddly accepting of Dan Mok-kyeong’s absurd talent.
Well, if you’re going to be the protagonist of a martial arts story, you’ve got to be this good. Generally speaking, protagonists in martial stories are powerhouses. They need to be so ridiculously strong it almost seems wrong.
When they start feeling overwhelmed, they stumble across a stroke of luck, ascend to another plateau, and eventually reach a state that’s either human or something closer to divinity…
The original story’s ending was so rushed that it’s unclear exactly how high of a level he achieved, but since he managed to defeat Celestial Demon, he must be at least at the end of Transformation Realm, or maybe even higher.
Celestial Demon was an expert in the Escape Realm.
“Mr., it looks like the 16s are almost over!”
“Looks like most of the people who aren’t meant to proceed have been weeded out by now…”
“Hey, don’t say that in front of me—how about showing some respect?”
…Huh, right. There’s an eliminated competitor nearby.
As Eun-gong’s voice filled with annoyance bitten her nails, I remained nonchalant despite finding her reaction somewhat amusing. After all, knowing Eun-gong, she’d soon let go of her irritation and propose heading off for food.
“Eun-gong, I’ve returned.”
“Excellent bout.”
“Not at all. I still… need to train much further.”
A hint of fire burned behind Mok-kyeong’s eyes as she said this.
Revenge, maybe?
Interpreting it this way: it could signify her awareness of her current insufficiency in strength to reach her goal of vengeance.
I shifted my gaze away from Dan Mok-kyeong and looked toward the martial arena.
Revenge, in itself, is fine, but I’d like to avoid her going on a reckless rampage like in the original story.
It was simply too hollow and uninspired. The narrative zigzagged, culminating in anticlimactic scenes where the reader was left feeling dissatisfied.
There was no logic in it—people kept randomly appearing to die one after another, leaving a bizarre lack of development or coherence.
Though this original story is only a fragment of the entire world we’re in, it is unpredictable, and who knows if there might be some unforeseen and ridiculous plot twist lurking somewhere.
The Western Regions, for instance, had an emerging martial sphere…
…Perhaps the haphazard development of the Western Regions was because there was a sequel in the works.
“Let’s wrap up today, and let’s head out to eat.”
I’m hungry after all this exertion.
“I’m fine.”
“I get what you’re thinking, but rushing ahead won’t help. Move step by step; being hasty and not considering your surroundings could lead to failure.”
“…Thank you, Eun-gong.”
“Mr., let’s eat out today!”
“Out?”
“The food here is good, too, but I’ve heard that in Wuxian, there are inns with excellent chefs—let’s give one a try!”
Surely it’ll be expensive.
No, considering the low-paid patrol men still frequent these inns, it probably won’t be exorbitantly expensive. Even if it is, it’ll just be a bit more costly.
Having accepted Hye-ryeong’s suggestion, I turned around.
“We’ll feast tonight.”
“Haha…”
“…”
We moved towards the bustling streets of Wuxian.
—
“So it’s down to the Top 8 now.”
A hollow feeling began to creep into my side as I crossed my arms and stood, waiting for the Top 8 finalists to arrive on the martial stage.
At this point, the remaining eight competitors must all be formidable opponents.
Following the original story, the majority of these individuals would be young experts from the Five Great Houses and the Nine Sects, but…
“Mr. Eun-gong.”
“Ah, you’re here.”
It will be difficult to follow the original storyline entirely, given that my involvement has altered the Top 8 lineup already. Especially since my opponent was a certain Yang Seoyu, someone who wasn’t part of the original setup which has thrown the whole thing into further confusion.
The draw had been disrupted since the preliminaries due to my interference, and perhaps several eliminations were the aftermath of this.
“Dan Mok-kyeong, have you heard anything about the Top 8 competitors?”
“From what I hear, all of them, excluding us, are heirs of famous orthodox sects.”
“It’s somewhat what I expected…but…”
I am familiar with Qing Maehyang, Namgung Hwi, and Peng Jeoksan, having witnessed their bouts personally. As for the rest, I’m not certain.
Considering the limited number, most will likely be from the Nine Sects.
Among the Five Great Houses, about three will make their mark.
Since Dong Mingjin from the Sichuan Poison Clan is not participating in this tournament, unless I visit the Dong Family Compound, I will not have the chance to meet him.
While deep in thought, I eventually heard footsteps approaching. I quickly looked up.
“…Wudang, Shaolin, and Zhongnan?”
All familiar names from the original story.
The half-bald one in monk clothing, I think his name was Mudang? And Wudang had some master of crane techniques, didn’t he? Zhongnan… Wasn’t it something else?
Names of characters who don’t appear much have a tendency to slip out of memory.
“Hem. All finalists of the Top 8, please gather here!”
The referee, in a solemn voice, gathered our attention.
As we congregated before him, he cleared his throat a couple of times before proceeding.
“Next, we will draw lots to determine the line-up for the Top 8! The process will be the same as the previous stage!”
“We’ll draw in the order from the furthest left!”
Who might I end up facing?
As I watched Mu Jin step forward, anticipation began to build within me.
Martial contests that don’t require betting one’s life are still quite thrilling. Hopefully, I’ll have a strong opponent to make the match interesting.
With a weak one, there’s not much to learn. Preferably someone like Namgung Hwi or Peng Jeoksan would be ideal.
“Mu Jin! Group 2!”
“Zhen Muyeon! Group 3!”
“Peng Jeoksan! Group 4!”
“Blue Lotus! Group 1!”
Each contestant drew lots in sequence. So far, there have been no overlaps in groups. As the fifth one was my turn, I stepped forward and reached into the lot box.
This slip seems like the right one.
I retrieved the slip and handed it to the referee.
“William! Group 4!”
“Haha! What a treat—fighting the much-discussed Colored-Eyed Person! This is certainly exciting!”
“Peng Xiong, please quiet down. My ears are starting to hurt while standing next to you.”
“Shouldn’t a martial artist bear such a voice? Haha!”
…It’s really loud. Even without using inner strength, why is his voice so loud?
Though it was mentioned in the original that he was noisy…
“Dan Mok-kyeong! Group 3!”
“Xue Yun! Group 2!”
“Namgung Hwi! Group 1!”
The draw for the Top 8 is complete.
Group 1: Qing Maehyang vs Namgung Hwi.
Group 2: Mu Jin vs Xue Yun.
Group 3: Zhen Muyeon vs Dan Mok-kyeong.
Group 4: Peng Jeoksan vs me.
Rather balanced matchups, it seems.
“The Top 8 matches will take place in three days. Please gather on the martial stage at noontime on that day!”
“Understood!”
“Until then, three days from now. You, bearers of the… next generation of martial artists.”
Hmm, did he just glance at me a moment ago? Did the pause occur because calling us ‘next generation’ felt odd towards someone like me?
It’s true—it does feel a little strange given there’s a “Colored-Eyed Person” among us. If it were someone like the Hainan Sword Sect, non-natives who happen to belong to the Nine Sects, it might be different, but I am purely Western, so…
His strange reaction isn’t entirely unwarranted.
“Three days from now.”
Neither an overly long nor short period.
But it’s a suitable amount of time to prepare for the Top 8 matches.
I turned away after watchingNamgung Hwi and Peng Jeoksan, who were acting far too animated despite not being close friends, depart.
“…”
Dan Mok-kyeong silently followed behind me.
