Chapter: 798
Clang—
On the martial arts stage that has yet to be cleaned up, a man raises his hand over a sword.
A sword tied to his waist.
It was the man’s cherished weapon, known as the Eunrang Sword (은아절검), a famous blade crafted by the Tang Clan in the past.
If you sought a sword as beautiful as its name suggested, it would be among the few that one could count on a single hand.
The swordsmanship of the swordsman wielding it was as breathtakingly beautiful, earning him fame.
Swish—!
The Eunrang Sword slides out of its scabbard, revealing its lovely blade to the world.
“…Oh….”
“Wow….”
As if the fame were no exaggeration, the onlookers voiced their admiration.
What of the pressure, though?
“…Is this the Grand Lord of Meng?”
The heated Yeoltujeongeom had descended from the stage, suddenly releasing a sound.
The fighting spirit of the swordsman with his sword drawn dominated the surroundings.
The arrogance sensed little by little, depending on the skill level, was humbled in an instant.
Hiding his cold sweat, Yeoltujeongeom gazed at the man holding the sword.
‘He’s a master.’
Even I, myself, wouldn’t be intimidated by anything. But upon seeing my opponent, even that felt meaningless.
One of the swordsmen leading the main forces of the Murim Alliance.
The anti-monster combat unit.
The Grand Lord of the Iron Dragon Corps. The Silver Wolf Sword.
When he raised his sword, everything around him fell silent.
One hundred masters of the Central Plains.
A position that could only be reached after attaining a certain level, even after stepping into the so-called highest realm—Hwagyeong.
Except for the late Fenglong Grand Master, every head of a righteous sect was included among the one hundred masters.
This was equally true for the Eunrang Sword.
The term Baekdaegosu is often regarded as the dream of martial artists.
For those who reach there gain absolute status, making it a coveted position by all.
Furthermore,
“…Huh… this energy, this pressure…”
“It can be this sharp…!!”
In the end, attaining that status requires the necessary skills.
The Eunrang Sword on the stage was clearly demonstrating this.
He stated that he was a Grand Lord of the Iron Dragon Corps and a master who had stepped into the Hwagyeong.
Gooooooooo—!!!
A chilling pressure emanating from a Grand Master.
It engulfed the entire martial arts stage, which was far from small.
The air became heavy, causing those nearby to wince.
The discomfort wrapped around their entire bodies.
Watching this, Yeoltujeongeom swallowed dryly.
‘…Is this really okay?’
Is this situation really acceptable?
Yeoltujeongeom gazed at a specific spot with trembling eyes.
The area where the previously broken judging stands were cleared, leaving only empty chairs.
A young man was quietly sitting and observing the martial arts stage.
‘The Holy King…’
Holy King Gu Yangcheon.
Yeoltujeongeom considered the one responsible for this situation.
‘Is there really some intention behind this?’
Naturally, the unspoken thoughts would not bring an answer.
Whoosh—
The continuous wailing of the sword and the spreading energy.
The master of the rough vortex they created, Eunranggeom, slowly opens his eyes.
“…Hmph.”
The discomfort was evident in the lightly exhaled breath.
Indeed. Eunranggeom wasn’t happy about this situation at all.
‘This is truly irritating.’
To have stepped onto this stage while receiving so many gazes.
If possible, he wished to never have drawn his cherished blade.
Let alone confront the opponent staring him down.
Nothing about it appealed to him.
With such discomfort layered over his eyes, he stared straight ahead.
In front of him stood a woman.
A remarkable beauty with white hair, blue eyes, and wearing a blue outfit.
Even Eunranggeom, who had faced many trials, felt his attention repeatedly drawn to her stunning appearance.
Her title is Geommuhee, a prominent late-ranking fighter who had made waves at previous friendly martial arts tournaments years ago.
The dance of her sword seemed akin to a cherished performance, with her looks so captivating that she was dubbed a Sword Dancer.
Recalling that, Eunranggeom nodded.
‘Indeed.’
Such a nickname seemed undeserving for a mere late-ranked fighter, but upon seeing her, his thoughts shifted.
‘She is strong.’
It was evident from the moment he laid eyes on her.
The woman before him exuded considerable strength in the eyes of Eunranggeom.
Too strong to be merely labeled a late-ranking fighter.
Perhaps,
‘I might be witnessing the emergence of the next generation’s sword master.’
One could sense her prowess even without drawing swords.
A strong contender to succeed the Maehwa Sword Lord, continuing the legacy.
In the eyes of Eunranggeom, Geommuhee held that much worth.
It was undeniably absurd.
‘They say this is the generation of meteors.’
Both Shinryong and the successor of Geomjon, Seomwolgeom, had similarly impressive credentials.
To call them mere late-ranking fighters was excessive.
‘Among them, the most bizarre presence is…’
Eunranggeom shifted his gaze to the side.
There sat the architect of this ridiculous chaos, the true monster referred to as the representative of the Yooseong generation.
‘Holy King.’
Master of the stars.
The young man confirmed as the greatest among a torrent of geniuses.
Holy King Gu Yangcheon.
He was staring right at Eunranggeom.
Clench—!
Under that gaze, Eunranggeom gritted his teeth.
The eyes inspecting him with interest were unbearable.
No matter how lofty his status was, he was still the child of Eunranggeom.
Young and inexperienced.
Even among the younger generation dubbed the Meteor Generation, he ranked among the youngest.
‘A typical monster…’
Looking at that boy, Eunranggeom shivered involuntarily.
The youngest king. Such an attribute held no significance.
Many had doubts about the Holy King’s true power; Eunranggeom felt the same uncertainty.
However, he wasn’t the type to deny its existence like one might with the Twin Swords.
Rumors had it that he had dispatched the Sword King effortlessly.
That was the consensus reached among hundreds in attendance. Remembering that, Eunranggeom reflected.
‘If it were me.’
If he were in his shoes,
Could he have dispatched the Sword King with such ease?
‘…’
Internally, Eunranggeom shook his head.
He was confident of victory.
Eunranggeom was sure that he could defeat the Sword King.
However, discussing a total triumph was somewhat ambiguous.
It wasn’t just Eunranggeom who felt this way.
Including all Grand Lords, there were only two masters capable of effortlessly defeating the Sword King.
The Guardian Lord—the Sword Master.
And the Blue Dragon Lord—the Ilcheong Sword.
Only those two might accomplish such a feat.
‘But the Holy King did it.’
That implies,
‘Are we saying that even if he’s not a saint, he’s a master on par with the Ilcheong Sword?’
It was hard to believe.
Was that kid really close to reaching the level of a teenage high-ranking master?
It sounded utterly nonsensical.
‘…’
Nevertheless, Eunranggeom refrained from expressing further denial.
Reality was what it was.
No matter how much he wanted to downplay it, the truth remained.
Eunranggeom furrowed his brows as he scrutinized the Holy King.
A young man reclined with his chin propped on his palm, observing quietly.
When he tried to sense the energy around him, it was impossible to discern it properly.
That signified that even if he couldn’t surpass him, he was on par.
‘Damn it.’
As the realization sank in, Eunranggeom grimaced further.
A mere lump of flesh just appeared out of nowhere and sat in such an esteemed position, looking down on them and provoking them. To Eunranggeom, that was infuriating.
It was true even now.
‘To stoop to such nonsense.’
While he drew his sword and showcased his pressure, it all felt exceptionally beneath him.
It teetered on the brink of absurdity.
“Phew…”
This man,
The Iron Dragon Lord Eunranggeom.
Was just a pawn for that brat’s play.
“—Let’s have a bet.”
The Holy King smiled, looking at Eunranggeom. He suggested they make a wager.
If Eunranggeom were to win, he would present him with the Seongryongdae.
There was, of course,
‘You’re not aiming to have my feet licked, right?’
It came across as excessively shameful, yet an enticing proposal nonetheless.
So, this led to the following.
“—I’ll listen.”
I’d certainly like to hear what sort of bet you’re proposing.
Eunranggeom unconsciously uttered those words.
“Oh? Really?”
The Holy King grinned, as though he had been waiting for this moment.
“Then please spar with that one.”
“What?”
He pointed a hand toward the martial arts stage.
Eunranggeom had to follow suit, squinting and frowning at the location.
“—Are you referring to Yeoltujeongeom?”
Yeoltujeongeom, a renowned swordsman expected to soon reach Hwagyeong.
Is he expecting a spar with him? Eunranggeom observed the Holy King with a puzzled expression.
“Yes? No. The one next to him.”
“—Next… to him?”
That can’t be.
“—Do you mean the Sword Dancer?”
“Yes.”
The Holy King insisted that Eunranggeom spar with Geommuhee.
Upon hearing this, Eunranggeom’s face scrunched up even further.
“Your Majesty, are you in your right mind?”
“Why? Is that undesirable?”
“This is nothing short of disrespect toward me.”
Sparring with the late-ranking fighter beside him, not even a fully-fledged martial artist.
Moreover, the certain Holy Dragon who had reportedly reached Hwagyeong and the expected successor of the Sword Lord.
Now he expected him to fight the mere Sword Dancer.
This wasn’t something that could happen without disregarding his esteem.
At that moment, Eunranggeom was about to tell the Holy King that he had been insulted.
“Well then. What’s the issue? If you don’t want to, don’t do it.”
“—Your Majesty.”
“If you don’t want to be involved, just don’t. Am I ordering you to fight? I only want to show you something.”
The Holy King pointed toward the Sword Dancer, his expression serious.
“I intend to stake my pride to show you that your ignorant perception of her not being worthy is wrong.”
“…Hmph.”
Only then did Eunranggeom realize it.
That the Holy King had set this up due to his previous remarks.
“If that’s the case, back off. Just be quiet and sit tight.”
“…”
After hearing that, Eunranggeom relaxed his eyes slightly, speaking up.
“That’s a regretful statement.”
“I’ll handle that too.”
“…I’ve heard that woman is the Holy King’s fiancée. Even so, are you pressing ahead?”
“That’s true. Are you going to do it or not?”
“…”
Silence hung briefly.
Countless thoughts clashed in his mind, but ultimately, what lingered in Eunranggeom’s thoughts was the mention of Seongryongdae by the Holy King.
He really doubted whether he would be able to seize it.
One thing was certain,
‘It’s enough justification for something.’
The words of the Holy King, alongside the unfolding circumstances.
The results that were bound to follow from this.
No matter how he scrutinized it, there didn’t seem to be a loss. As long as he won the bet.
“—So, when you say spar, isn’t it just about winning? What method are we using?”
“Feel free.”
“Huh?”
Do whatever you want?
“So, are you saying that merely winning in the duel suffices?”
“That is up to your senior.”
“…”
What on earth could their intent possibly be?
Does he truly believe that Geommuhee could take victory?
Perhaps the Holy King presumed he was some sort of monster while others perceived him the same way.
But that didn’t matter.
The more arrogant the opponent was, the better it was for him.
However,
There was one thing he still needed to ask.
“Holy King.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve heard all that’s been said. In that case, what do I lose if I lose this bet?”
Since this was a bet, both sides had to face consequences.
If the Holy King wagered something like that, he must have something to sacrifice as well. With that in mind, he posed his question.
“Oh, that? Just this.”
Upon hearing it, the Holy King smiled.
“…”
With that, Eunranggeom made a choice.
The result of that choice was as follows.
“Lady.”
“…?”
At the call, Namgungbia raised her head and gazed at the Eunrang Sword.
What beautiful eyes. That thought momentarily crossed his mind.
“I don’t harbor any ill will toward you, my lady. It’s especially true since I have a connection with your father.”
Geommuhee’s father was the Namgung Clan’s Sword King.
While not a deep affiliation, Eunranggeom was acquainted with him.
“Thus, if you’re open to it—”
Swish—!
“…!”
At the sound, Eunranggeom’s eyes widened.
They could cease at this moment.
In response to the concern-filled invitation, Namgungbia drew her sword.
Observing this, Eunranggeom questioned her.
“Are you truly willing to spar with me…?”
“…”
“…Even if the Holy King is like that, do you too believe I have a chance of winning?”
The Sword Dancer was formidable.
As he stated earlier, it was a level he recognized clearly.
Still, being strong doesn’t inherently mean stronger than every other.
Eunranggeom maintained a clear understanding of where Geommuhee stood.
Her level was truly impressive, but that was where it was capped.
She still had a long way to go to reach his caliber. That was the conclusion Eunranggeom arrived at.
“Really, what is going on here…?”
In this situation, did a couple dare to disregard him in tandem?
Crack—!!
Eunranggeom clenched his fist tightly.
“Alright.”
Yeah, let’s see what you’ve got.
He had no clue what the Holy King aimed to reveal, but since he had come this far, he couldn’t back down now.
Having come to this point, he could only reveal his true prowess.
Zing!
The Eunrang Sword let out a whisper of its name.
“I will grant you three seconds before starting the duel.”
“…”
“Come.”
Three seconds of allowance.
Eunranggeom spoke with a restrained voice, igniting fervent interest in everyone around.
Exactly three seconds.
Eunranggeom was prepared to let that time pass and make his strike on the fourth beat.
However, as he planned to conclude this ridiculous duel,
“Three seconds?”
Namgungbia tilted her head at him.
“Yes. Three…”
Whoosh—!
Suddenly, Namgungbia began to swing her sword.
Once.
Swish—!
Next, a second time.
Swish—!
And finally, the third swing.
After executing three strikes, Namgungbia wore a unique expression, locking eyes with Eunranggeom.
“Three seconds.”
All the observers promptly covered their mouths in shock.
“…This…!!”
Snap.
In a heartbeat, Eunranggeom’s face flushed crimson.
His rising anger propelled him to shout loudly.
“Even if I attempt to be considerate, people unreasonably dismiss me like this!”
Thud.
“…!?”
Even Eunranggeom’s words didn’t linger for long.
A chilling sensation rippled down his neck.
The sword’s blade was mere inches from his skin.
“An allowance?”
Eunranggeom bowed his head at the voice that emanated before him.
What had previously seemed distant now echoed directly in front of him.
A subtle floral scent wafted through the air.
Her silken white hair swayed gently.
At that very moment,
“…Who…?”
Namgungbia whispered into Eunranggeom’s ear.
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