All roads lead to Rome (Omnes viae Romam ducunt).
Truly, anyone familiar with European history must have heard this proverb at least once.
There was a time when the great empire dominated most of the European continent. Although it now reveals its existence only as ruins, its legacy survives and continues to influence the entirety of Europe.
Thus, Roman gladiatorial combat, having evolved for a thousand years since its debut, can be seen as evidence of how the once-mighty empire conquered the continent.
And now.
The martial prowess of the thousand-year empire, gladiatorial combat, has made its appearance in the Central Plains.
‘An attack?’
He channels strength into his muscles.
His arm inflates with tension, following the command of Eon Cheolsan, drawing a circular trajectory. This is surely intended to block William’s onrushing attack, which resembles a massive wild beast.
‘Is he ready to settle the score?’
Eon Cheolsan’s eyes track William’s movements.
Even a momentary lapse could bring defeat upon himself.
Yet, as a seasoned martial artist, Eon Cheolsan accurately predicts the swing of William’s arm based on his movements. Eon’s legs naturally follow a predetermined path, sketching the Youseongbo (Meteor Step).
“All the more remarkable.”
“Who looks like they’ll win?”
“Well, we’ll see when they clash, won’t we?”
The onlookers’ voices tickle the ears of the two warriors. Neither pays attention to the outside, however, and hesitate not as they glare at each other and advance.
A collision of straight lines.
As the distance between William and Eon Cheolsan closes, William abruptly exerts force into his right foot, striking the ground. Dust rises up to knee-height, making the spectators squint.
‘A stance akin to Jinjog? No, it’s similar but different!’
The footwork, something familiar about it, displayed by the Western martial artist.
Yet Eon Cheolsan notices that, fundamentally, it’s different. His eyes dart upwards in an instant, and in his restored vision, he catches William’s fist coming towards him.
Eon Cheolsan, startled by the unexpected technique, reaches out towards William’s fist.
Surprise is one thing, but there’s no room for stiffening up in the middle of the fight.
Finally, the two warriors’ hands collide.
Or rather, palm to fist.
William’s fist slides across the palm.
In fights between boxers where fists collide, deflecting is one of the most effective defensive methods.
And this was the move executed by Eon Cheolsan.
“You hit like a heavyweight.”
“And you as well.”
Then, as they invaded each other’s space, a brawl ensued.
Block, block, block, then block again.
Punch, punch, punch, then punch some more.
William swings and retracts his fists with terrifying speed, akin to an Asura skillfully wielding six arms.
A seeming chaos of wild punches.
Yet if it were truly random, he would have been counterattacked by now.
‘They all look like feints, but they also seem real. What a disorienting style of boxing. If something like a first strike or golden strike method is embedded in there, I’d have no choice but to suffer a setback.’
And yet he can’t ignore the overwhelming momentum contained in each punch. After all, with every deflection, Eon Cheolsan’s palms send a tingling sensation up to his knuckles.
Eon Cheolsan finds himself at a crossroad, locked in eye contact with William.
Should he give up some flesh to take the bone?
Or should he wait for the gap that will surely appear sooner or later?
While the cumulative damage grows with every passing moment.
At the moment, under the pressure of William’s powerful punches, had it not been for Eon Cheolsan’s mastery of the Iron Fist Technique, capable of smashing rocks barehanded, he would have been on the ground by now.
‘Is this Chinese boxing?’
Recalling a scene from a Chinese martial arts movie he watched in his youth, William is amazed as he sees Eon Cheolsan deflect his punches with a palm.
The sight of deflecting a punch with a palm certainly leaves quite an impression.
‘If I ever get the chance, learning this wouldn’t be bad.’
Whether or not such an opportunity will arise is uncertain, but he continues to throw punches without letting up. Halting an attack would be the height of stupidity.
After all, the most crucial aspect of any fight is maintaining dominance and continuously pressuring the opponent.
The battle between an impenetrable shield and an all-piercing spear ultimately comes down to making the shield bearer drop their shield.
No matter how strong the shield, it’s still wielded by a human, after all.
‘Let’s settle this in one go.’
William suddenly halts his assault and wields an edge of the hand, a move he hasn’t used yet. It appears to be a grand movement at a glance.
Eon Cheolsan neatly deflects the hand edge aimed at his neck with the back of his hand.
Though the force pushes his hand inward, the damage is minimal.
The time for a counterattack has come.
‘He’s getting impatient? Such large motions!’
In any boxing style, a meaningful strike inevitably requires larger movements.
Some of the spectators observing the non-lethal match shake their heads.
“He’s getting hasty.”
“That’s what happens when you keep getting blocked.”
‘…No, how could this be now?’
Eon Cheolsan instead looks at William’s face, which shows no sign of distress.
Simultaneously, his vision flips.
‘What?!’
Only now does Eon Cheolsan realize he’s been caught by the leg and thrown.
Takedown.
‘Looks like they don’t have this kind of throwing technique in the Martial Realm.’
After all, Martial Realm practitioners prioritize lower-body conditioning during their training, so the idea of grabbing and flipping an opponent’s lower half never would have crossed their minds.
“I concede.”
“Good fight.”
William lifts Eon Cheolsan with a hand and helps him up. Eon Cheolsan smirks while gripping his hand and rises.
‘A most educational sparring session.’
“Who would’ve thought this unexpected ending.”
“To think he’d flip an opponent like that. That could be quite useful, yeah?”
“Still, if internal energy had been used, the outcome might’ve been different.”
“Where do you think only the Iron Wind Fist uses internal energy? That Westerner didn’t seem to use it either.”
Amidst the murmurs of many passersby, rumors of the Blue-Eyed Lion spread.
Of a ‘unique master of strong boxing and golden strike techniques.’
—————-
“Mister! Great fight!”
Where did he even get the towel from? William uses the towel offered by Hye-ryeong to wipe the sweat beading on his forehead.
“Thanks.”
“Your movements were spectacular. Who would’ve thought you’d trip your opponent that way. The martial techniques from the west are truly fascinating.”
Mugwang expresses admiration. Perhaps having experienced something similar, he seems to empathize somewhat with Eon Cheolsan’s situation.
“That was an interesting match.”
“Blue-Eyed Lion! That was a great sparring session!”
My head spins from the cries echoing amidst the many voices calling out to me.
I turn my body to Eon Cheolsan and bow respectfully.
“Great sparring, Eon master.”
“Haha, on the contrary, it was beneficial to experience the Western martial techniques. Next time, if you visit our main house, I’ll be sure to treat you to a meal.”
Seems like I avoided someone troublesome. Dealing with such people can be exhausting.
“Haha, then, maybe we’ll meet again when the next opportunity arises.”
What? Did I really come here just for a sparring match?
As the crowd parts, I watch Eon Cheolsan’s retreating figure.
Still.
“But Mister, you’re probably going to have a pretty hard time for a while!”
“Huh? Why?”
“Because all the martial artists who think they’re good will come seeking sparring matches with you.”
At Hye-ryeong’s offbeat remark, I slap my forehead.
So this was the start, not the end.
“Really troublesome.”
No doubt most will come because I’m a Western martial artist. Not associated directly with the Hainan Sword Sect yet in an ambiguous position, losing to me would allow them to claim mental victory by blaming their loss on being unfamiliar with my techniques.
And more importantly, a victory over me would earn even the most ordinary martial artist some praise.
I don’t use any assassin techniques, so the martial artists in town must view me as a tempting challenge. Perhaps it’d be better to find a strong opponent and deal with them outright.
After all, every martial student is drawn to the cycle of becoming stronger.
Though such a person might not exist.
“Let’s head back and finish eating.”
“The food must be cold by now…”
“We can just order more.”
“Wow, Mister is rich!”
“Do you forget my financial situation despite knowing?”
“Hehe.”
Hye-ryeong sticks out her tongue playfully and smiles.
Anyone who sees her face, so alluring it naturally draws such remarks, can’t help but smile back.
“Perhaps I’ll have to adjust my schedule sooner than expected.”
“Don’t worry about it. Our journey is nearly over.”
…Is a month left considered nearly over?
This must be due to the vastness of the land. People from Central Plains seem to have a generous sense of time.
“I can’t wait to see the Martial Alliance.”
“Whatever you imagine, it will surpass those expectations.”
With an air of anticipation, I tossed in a sentence and followed them into the inn.
Under completely different gazes than those we received upon entering.
