Chapter 33: Chapter: Dragon Phoenix Tournament (6)

༺ Fifth Chapter – Dragon Phoenix Tournament (6) ༻

Anhui was burning hot.

The excitement from the first day was unrelenting and carried all throughout the group stages.

Now, everywhere you went in Shexian were stories about that day’s duels.

It was inevitable.

This year’s Dragon Phoenix Tournament was shaking up the established rankings that hadn’t changed for a long time.

Firstly, the Poison Phoenix had awakened from her six year silence and returned.

She displayed martial arts skills that were worthy of her name as the successor of the Sichuan Tang Clan, advancing to the finals of her group.

Her opponent was the long-anticipated White Phoenix Hyeun, and their clash was set for four days later, with bets already being placed on the outcome.

“But it’s the Poison Phoenix! Have you forgotten the events from six years ago? No one lasted more than three seconds against her on her way to the finals!”

“That was when the White Phoenix was in a different group! And even then, the Poison Phoenix only lasted three seconds against the Sword Dragon in the finals!”

“The Sword Dragon is an exception, isn’t he? Besides, this time her opponent isn’t the Sword Dragon but the White Phoenix! I’m betting on the Poison Phoenix. I can’t imagine her losing.”

“Well, I’m betting on the White Phoenix. I don’t know what the Poison Phoenix has been up to for six years, but still, the White Phoenix has been consistently proving her skill.”

And there were more bets being placed, especially for the group with Strange Dragon Zhuge San, Fist Dragon Il-woon, and Immortal Dragon Hyungong.

“It has to be the Fist Dragon! He’s recognized as a once-in-a-century talent from Shaolin! Who else will make it to the top four but him?!”

“Nonsense! Have you ever seen the Immortal Dragon frown in a duel? Even against Namgung Jincheon, he maintained his composure. Surely the victor of this group is him!”

“Fist Dragon!”

“Immortal Dragon!”

Was it a cruel joke that no one predicted Zhuge San to win at all?

Given that such a gathering of the Dragons in one group was unprecedented, they were being called the ‘Group of Death’ and were becoming the hottest topic of debate.

However, overshadowing all these discussions were the two individuals who had become the talk of the tournament.

Needless to say, they were the Sword Dragon Namgung Jincheon and Ink Sword Mok Riwon.

“...Indeed, the Sword Dragon lives up to his fame. So far, he hasn’t swung his sword more than once in a duel. It’s certain he’ll be the victor of his group.”

“The Ink Sword is also incredible. As if saying he won’t lose to the Sword Dragon, he’s ended all his matches within a second.”

There was no disagreement this time.

Even though the group stages weren’t over, all the martial artists watching were certain those two would advance to the semifinals of the tournament.

There was no need to discuss the Sword Dragon; Mok Riwon was no different.

On the first day of the tournament, he fully displayed his arrogance by openly provoking Namgung Jincheon and proving his skill.

Then, he shattered the perception of being written off as a mere oddball by breaking his opponents’ swords in the first second.

“...The winners of the first and fourth groups are already basically decided.”

“Not just that. There’s talk that the newcomer, Ink Sword, will surpass the other Dragons and make it to the finals.”

It was an absurd notion for a martial artist who had only been known in the martial world for a few months to receive such an assessment.

But nonetheless, Mok Riwon was receiving such acclaim.

Here in the Central Plains, one must prove themselves through their sword.

And Mok Riwon had proved himself.

“If those two meet, it will have to be in the finals.”

“That’s right. The first group and third group will meet, and the second group and fourth group will meet to face off in the semifinals.”

“The Sword Dragon will definitely make it to the finals, and the man called Ink Sword...”

“Will have to determine his standing against the winner of the second group.”

The inn fell silent.

Would the man called Ink Sword be a worthy opponent for the Dragon that emerged victorious from the ‘Group of Death’?

“...I will bet on the Fist Dragon if he becomes the winner of the second group.”

“I’ll bet on the Immortal Dragon if he comes out on top.”

“I’ll bet on the Ink Sword.”

“Hm?”

“Somehow, I just have a feeling that he will earn the new title of Dragon in this Dragon Phoenix Tournament.”

The words of one man made the other two chuckle.

But they weren’t mocking him.

“That would be a pleasant twist, don’t you think? I’m looking forward to it.”

“It’s not surprising for a new master to emerge in the martial world.”

The three men raised their glasses.

“But you know, right?”

The man who had previously expected Tang Hwa-seo and Il-woon’s victory spoke up.

Another man laughed in response.

“Indeed, in the end, the victor will be the Sword Dragon.”

Clink–

Their glasses touched.

Despite the rise of a new star in the Orthodox Path, some truths remained unchanged.

Sword Dragon Namgung Jincheon.

He was the definitive leader of this generation.

On a certain night in Shexian, three men at an inn looked forward to the upcoming fights, toasting to the unfolding events.

* * *

“Brother Mok, did you hear?”

“Hm? What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been given a new name, Brother Mok.”

“Amitabha.”

Amidst the bustling crowd, Il-woon joined his palms in prayer and chanted while steadying his breath.

Zhuge San felt an inexplicable anxiety looking at Il-woon’s serene demeanor.

“Brother Zhuge! Hang in there!!!”

Mok Riwon was cheering from afar, but regrettably, it didn’t seem to be much help.

[Let’s begin! Strange Dragon Zhuge! Fist Dragon Il-woon!]

The announcer raised his hand high.

Zhuge San took out a jade stone from his robe, rolling it around his hand as he drew upon the inner qi from his dantian.

In that moment.

Bang–!

Il-woon aimed for Zhuge San’s foot lightning fast, and upon noticing that, he quickly dodged the punch, but even then his face turned white as a sheet of paper.

“W-What are you...”

“Amitabha.”

The floor of the arena shattered.

Despite the material not being easily breakable, when Il-woon withdrew his punch, the stone crumbled into fine pieces.

“M-Monk...?”

“Amitabha.”

Il-woon smiled gently.

“WOOOAH!!!”

The crowd’s cheers intensified with Il-woon’s display of martial arts.

It was then that Zhuge San realized.

‘This is....’

He might be bidding farewell to this world if he wasn’t careful.

“Amitabha.”

Zhuge San looked at Il-woon creaking forward.

He was still muttering ‘Amitabha’, but his eyes harbored a chilling feeling.

That had to be it.

Il-woon still hadn’t given up on silencing Zhuge San.

Normally by this point, he would have assumed he was safe to trust and left him alone, but unfortunately, Zhuge San’s usual behavior had been a bit too frivolous.

So, his solution was simple.

Since he couldn’t break the Killing Precept, he would show an overwhelming difference in their martial strength and instill a deep-rooted fear in Zhuge San.

“Amitabha.”

Zhuge San made a swift decision.

“I surren...”

Boom–!

“...der, I surrender! I surrender! I SURRENDERRR!!!”

Zhuge San panicked and fled.

Il-woon finally smiled contentedly and joined his palms in prayer again, while the audience tilted their heads in unison at the unexpectedly easy conclusion of the match.

“...What was that?”

A man who had bet that the Fist Dragon would reach the semifinals was caught up by a strange mix of emotions, not sure whether to feel happy or sad about the outcome.

* * *

On the same night after finishing his training, Mok Riwon was humming a tone on his way back to his lodgings, pondering over the events that day.

‘Monk Il-woon was indeed impressive.’

Although Zhuge San had surrendered quickly and didn’t show many techniques, Mok Riwon could still ascertain the extent of his martial arts through his fists.

‘It must be one of Shaolin’s 72 Arts, the Golden Sand Palm.’

Even though it was a fist rather than a palm technique, it was obvious that the power that shattered the arena floor came from the Golden Sand Palm since he didn’t feel any qi in Il-woon’s fist that crushed the ground.

‘Even external arts can achieve such feats, it seems.’

His spirits lifted.

Mok Riwon’s heart thumped with anticipation, wondering what would happen if qi were infused into that fist.

Naturally, Mok Riwon hoped that Il-woon would be his next opponent.

In two days, it would be the last match of his group.

Next week, the winners of each group would compete in the semifinals of the tournament.

As his anxiousness and excitement intermingled and caused a pleasant thrill, Mok Riwon walked on cheerfully when suddenly,

“Oh my, Benefactor Mok?”

A woman’s voice entered his ears.

Shiver–

Chills ran down his spine, and his fingers trembled.

Turning his head creakingly, the figure that he saw was–

“How fortunate, what a striking coincidence to meet you here, isn’t it?”

It was White Phoenix Hyeun, smiling slyly at him.

“Eek!”

Under the dark night, even with the moon hidden behind the clouds,

Mok Riwon jumped as if he had seen a ghost at the sight of the pale Hyeun.

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