“In three days’ time.”
Long if you think about it, but also short.
I neatly folded the letter I had received and placed it inside my robes before heading back to my room and entering the training chamber.
Today, neither Hye-ryeong nor Mok-kyeong were available due to other obligations, leaving me unable to engage in martial practice with them. My plan was to reflect upon the experiences gathered during our travels so far.
“Hmph.”
Sitting in a meditative pose, I closed my eyes.
As I delved into introspection, I could feel my mana core, which had grown far larger than when I first drifted to Hainan Island. By this world’s standards, it’s about one and a half cycles worth now.
Compared to the days spent in the chaos of war, it’s an absurd amount.
Back then, there were no spirit medicines, and no time for meditative stillness—it was only natural. But if our Leader were still alive, he might have smacked me on the back of the head and asked what I’d been secretly eating.
Thinking about the past leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
I need to stop reminiscing about people I’ll never see again.
It’s been just two years, yet I’ve grown far too attached to the knights. Shaking off thoughts of the Western Regions, I recalled my conversation with Grandmaster Taeheo—the one who helped me break through my limits.
My benefactor.
He had spoken of transforming killing intent into threads, hadn’t he?
Reflecting on it, I realize I’ve forgotten that lesson once again.
How can I face him knowing I’ve forgotten his guidance?
Still… if I avoid staining my sword with blood, rivers of blood will surely flow.
If the result of my hands being stained with blood means countless others won’t drown in pools of it, then I must take this path willingly.
I can’t let others endure what I’ve endured.
Though reducing the killing intent from my sword is undoubtedly necessary, I’ll need to work on it.
Killing isn’t the only answer.
…though I have no real idea how to achieve it.
What’s left if you remove killing intent from a technique meant to kill?
Frowning deeply, I faced this newfound dilemma.
It wasn’t the kind of problem easily solved.
While I can’t find a proper solution now, I’ll need to one day.
For now, I’ll focus solely on the upcoming martial contest.
The Martial Alliance Leader is far from an easy opponent.
My first trial against a true powerhouse.
Though the prohibition of malicious intent ensures neither of us shall perish, this isn’t a match to take lightly.
Not against such a formidable foe.
So I need to recall every piece of information I’ve gathered about the Martial Alliance Leader.
First, his martial arts.
Not of any of the Five Great Houses, but a son of a moderately famous local family, he’s renowned for utilizing both inherited techniques and those learned from a venerable elder.
Most famous? His swordmanship, but according to the original story, he was also competent in boxing arts, palm techniques, and even footwork.
Though there aren’t many battle scenes in the original, I do know his sword style.
Determined swings, straightforward, swift.
And then…
The ultimate move the Alliance Leader would unleash.
The one briefly shown in the original.
Could my aura armor withstand it?
Block it, and I’ll have a chance of victory. Fail, and it’s my defeat.
I mentally imagined the Alliance Leader’s swords in my mind, immersing myself in a visualization duel.
—
“Leader.”
“Yes? What is it?”
“Regarding the succession trial…”
Seolmun-gang hesitated, an uncharacteristic sign of unease on his face. The Martial Alliance Leader looked at him curiously as this behavior was quite unusual for Seolmun-gang.
“Is something amiss?”
“No.”
‘He seems a bit off lately.’
Why was the usually composed Seolmun-gang fidgeting and staring nervously at him? The Leader noticed the subtle anxiety in his expression but still wondered why.
“You don’t appear to be feeling well.”
“Haha… I’m over sixty now. My bones are aching.”
‘Not something a martial artist should say.’
Despite his limited realm, Seolmun-gang was still a martial artist and wouldn’t be affected by such ailments at this level.
“It’s been busy lately. Why not take a rest today?”
“No, I can’t miss the succession trial.”
‘Why hasn’t there been any news from the Demon Sect branches?’
And the increasingly strange goings-on within the Martial Alliance…
With his sharp intuition, the Leader realized something unprecedented was approaching.
‘Running might not be an option…’
Where could he, an elderly man, possibly flee to?
Furthermore, fleeing itself would only confirm suspicions, leaving only the path of direct confrontation.
‘Buying time through sending them to search elsewhere is merely a band-aid solution…’
Dozens of Demon Sect branches hidden over decades—should just one be discovered, it could unravel the rest.
‘Jeesup is likely on to something.’
With Zhuge Sanwol secretly investigating, it would become troublesome if not addressed.
“Haha, I’ll inform my physicians to prepare some good restorative elixirs for you.”
“Thank you, Leader.”
“Isn’t taking care of a Chief Military Officer contributing to the peace of the Martial Realm a Leader’s duty?”
The Leader chuckled loudly as he surveyed the neatly prepared martial arena.
The color-eyed contestant who had challenged him to a duel would show up in half an hour.
‘A succession trial…never imagined it would happen in my era.’
Even more unusual, the combatant was unrecognized by Hainan Sword Sect, the Ho-pak family, or Shaolin.
Closing his eyes, the Leader conjured an image of his opponent.
‘A person with colored eyes…’
This was unprecedented.
A succession trial—let alone a challenge for the Alliance Leader’s position—by someone with colored eyes?
He couldn’t possibly lose.
At least, based on what he knew, the challenger was likely still a long way from reaching the peak.
The likelihood of the challenger having any real chance?
According to available information, nil.
‘Or is this an attempt to get closer by hiding his true identity under false pretenses?’
As if having spent decades in charge of the alliance wasn’t for nothing, the Leader slowly unraveled the mystery shrouded in fog.
‘An assassin? No, they wouldn’t make an overt move like this.’
A succession trial is a crucial affair where a new Leader might emerge—it wouldn’t make sense to stage such an event for sinister purposes.
Just considering all the witnesses necessary for this trial: the Hainan Sword Sect, Ho-pak Family, and…Shaolin.
‘Even if you could fool others, you can’t deceive the Great Abbot of Shaolin.’
Even he, who prided himself on his insight, could not fathom this man’s true intentions. No spy, no matter how well-trained, could obtain such a certification from the Shaolin Abbot.
‘If someone can fool the Shaolin Abbot, the Martial Realm is already doomed.’
If they could deceive such a pillar of the Martial Realm, even he as the current Leader couldn’t handle it.
Putting aside his suspicions for now, the Leader mused, ‘We’ll see once our swords meet… I am curious how this duel will unfold.’
After years of leading the alliance, he had not practiced dueling for a long time. Now, his opponent was someone with colored eyes.
‘I must train harder not to embarrass myself in front of my juniors.’
He might need to showcase techniques he had developed since becoming Leader. Nonetheless, the Leader felt a thrill at the prospect of dueling for the first time in years and glanced at his daughter who had just appeared.
“Lian, what brings you to the arena?”
“How could your daughter not come to see you duel, Father?”
“Ho ho, those are indeed heartwarming words.”
It was rare to see his cherished youngest daughter at the arena. With his hands behind his back, the Leader redirected his gaze toward the arena.
“…Actually, I wanted to meet your opponent too.”
“You mean this colored-eyed one? Name was…?”
“William.”
“Hmm. Are you interested?”
“Am I? Yes.”
“Hmm…”
“Don’t let your curiosity run away from you, Father?”
“Hem hem. Just that I grew even more curious.”
“Why change your expression to hide it, Father?”
Trying hard to suppress his amusement, the Leader turned away at his daughter’s pointed remark.
“So, why are you interested?”
“The way this colored-eyed man speaks fluent Middle Plains dialect amazes me… and the lack of any ulterior motives in his eyes is intriguing.”
“He is just someone who doesn’t recognize beauty.”
“Father, please…”
“Hem hem… Anyway, you’re at marrying age, so naturally you’d be curious about men. I can understand that, but first let your old man…”
“Father.”
“I see, I see. Tsk… Being scolded by my daughter makes this Leader seem rather insignificant. Maybe it’s time to pass the position to that young man…”
The Leader laughed nervously while observing a tall man with a dark robe appearing on the stage.
He wielded an exotic sword unusual in Middle Plains, with golden hair, and quickly scanned the arena before locking eyes with the Leader sitting among the VIPs.
If the age matches as written in the records, this man possessed an uncommon sharp gaze for his age.
“A talented one, indeed.”
The Leader’s mouth stretched into an almost wicked grin.
“Father.”
“Go back to your seat.”
“…Please win.”
“Watch as your father showcases his elegance.”
Leaving behind his daughter’s frosty gaze, the proud pillar of the righteous sects and the Leader of the Martial Alliance stepped onto the battlefield.
Xu Yong-ming stood ready to duel.
The story kinda fresh