The spectators who had climbed Mount Song since dawn to watch the Orthodox Grand Tournament paid no mind, their eyes glued to the dueling stages. However, the martial artists in the VIP seats, closer to the action, noticed the unusual atmosphere and kept a close watch on the bustling Shaolin elders.
*’Someone stole the Demonic Spirit Sword?’*
At the news that someone had just stolen the Demonic Spirit Sword, which had been sealed at the Shaolin Temple for thirty years, Mujin tilted his head.
The Demonic Spirit Sword was undoubtedly a precious divine artifact.
A sword forged from Profound Iron, a treasure among treasures, couldn’t be anything but.
But was it a divine artifact worth risking one’s life to steal from the heart of the Shaolin Temple?
If one had a life to risk like that, it would be far more profitable to infiltrate the Imperial Palace and steal gold.
As the situation took a strange turn, Mujin decided to wait and watch the matches without getting involved for now.
*’Whoever stole from the Shaolin Temple must have some nerve. If I play this right, things might get easier.’*
He didn’t know who stole the Demonic Spirit Sword or why.
But he was certain of two things.
*’Getting out of Shaolin with it will be harder than stealing it.’*
Having set foot in Shaolin during his time as the Divine Demon, Mujin knew well that it was not a place to be trifled with.
The system of countless warrior monks maintaining various defensive formations was not obvious in normal times, but in a crisis, it would envelop all of Mount Song like a net in an instant.
Having broken through that great, inescapable net alone, Mujin could say this with certainty.
And one other thing. As long as the Demonic Spirit Sword was in someone’s possession, Mujin would find it one way or another.
*’Because only I can sense the faint demonic energy it emits when it receives a person’s ki.’*
The Demonic Spirit Sword was worthy of being called a divine sword, but if left untouched by human hands, it appeared as nothing more than an old blade with no sharp aura.
But the moment it was held, it came alive, leaking demonic energy.
As long as the thief was still on Mount Song, Mujin was confident he could find the one holding the Demonic Spirit Sword.
The matches continued.
Countless martial artists took to the stages, their fates of joy and sorrow decided, creating many memorable contests.
One match in particular caught the eye of Mujin, who had been watching without much thought.
It was the match of Jeong Su-ae, who had drawn gasps of admiration from the crowd the moment she stepped onto the stage, hailed as the New Beauty of the Central Plains.
*’Is she beautiful enough to cause such a fuss?’*
To Mujin, she wasn’t.
She simply exuded a natural elegance, but he didn’t find her as stunning as the rumors claimed.
However, the skill she displayed in the match was excellent.
Her skill level was around the middle of the first-rate, perhaps half a step behind No-sak.
Nevertheless, her mental fortitude, allowing her to steadfastly maintain her sword path and draw out her full potential, was outstanding.
No matter how skilled one was, it was never easy to bring out one hundred percent of that skill at any given moment.
When an unexpected variable emerged and the fight didn’t go as planned, it was only human to become flustered.
This was why real combat experience was crucial.
This was the reason why promising masters from the Orthodox Faction sometimes lost to lesser fighters from the Unorthodox Faction, becoming subjects of gossip.
Even if their skills were slightly inferior, the martial artists of the Unorthodox Faction, who experienced real combat more often than their Orthodox counterparts, all had experience accumulated through survival.
Methods to fluster an opponent, to deceive them, to provoke them.
These were all things that could only be learned and honed through real battles.
Jeong Su-ae’s opponent certainly had a good sense for real combat, relative to his skill level.
He executed surprising variations and skillfully employed techniques rarely seen in the Orthodox Faction.
Most would have been flustered, but Jeong Su-ae remained completely unshaken, steadfastly continuing her own fight.
*’That’s difficult to do unless you have complete faith in your own sword path.’*
Absolute trust in oneself. This was easier said than done.
Dojin and Soyeon also seemed to have learned a great deal from watching her match.
Thus, the first day of the Orthodox Grand Tournament, filled with twists of fate, came to a close.
Back at the guest quarters, Soyeon and Dojin were busy chattering nonstop about the matches they had seen during the day.
“I’m telling you, no! Regardless of internal energy, if he had just extended his technique a little more sharply at that moment, the outcome would have been different.”
“You said that from the start. But in the end, his technique wavered because he was outmatched in internal energy at the crucial moment. It went exactly as I predicted.”
Soyeon huffed and looked at Mujin.
“Brother! Who do you think is right?!”
“Hm?”
Lost in other thoughts, Mujin was jolted back to reality by Soyeon’s question.
“I mean, between me and Dojin, who’s right?”
“Sigh. Still on about that? You’re both right.”
“How can that be? We’re saying different things. If one of us is right, the other must be wrong!”
At Soyeon’s words, Mujin looked at her with a serious expression.
“Do you truly believe that?”
Faced with his serious expression, Soyeon paused to think.
“I think so?”
“In martial arts, there are countless paths. Where there is the orthodox path, there is also the unorthodox path, and the demonic path. Just because they walk different roads, do you think masters can only emerge from one?”
This time, Soyeon shook her head at Mujin’s question.
“Exactly. Masters are born from the unorthodox path, and the demonic path is teeming with fearsome experts. They all claim their way is the right one, but in reality, all of them are right.”
Soyeon tilted her head at Mujin’s profound explanation.
“But the martial artists Dojin and I were talking about are both from the Orthodox Faction, right?”
“It’s a mistake to think there’s only one path just because it’s orthodox. A fight between a master with superior technique but insufficient internal energy, and one with ample internal energy but less refined technique. In the end, the victory went to the one with superior internal energy. However, as you said, Soyeon, if the master with better technique had remained unshaken and focused until the very end, the outcome could have been reversed. But that’s not what happened. Asking who is right here is a foolish question. The wise question is, ‘What would I do in the same situation?'”
When Mujin finished speaking, Soyeon and Dojin nodded.
As he spent time with his two younger siblings, the second night at Shaolin deepened.
Feeling the formations and the auras of the martial artists around him throughout the night, Mujin’s gaze grew heavy.
*’Please, don’t get caught.’*
The next morning, as Mujin was once again ascending Hwajeong Peak, Great Monk Hyeon-u landed beside him.
“You seem to have had a busy night.”
At Mujin’s words, Great Monk Hyeon-u nodded with a weary expression.
“Yes. For this to happen when so many people have gathered at Shaolin… it’s been hectic. I apologize for not being able to properly host our guests.”
“Not at all. Thanks to you, the children are broadening their horizons and having a good time. More importantly…”
-Have you found any trace of the culprit?
When he asked via telepathy, Great Monk Hyeon-u shook his head.
-He seems to be no ordinary thief. To have stolen it so brazenly despite the warrior monks guarding the Demon Sealing Mound, he must be a master of stealth. Yet, among the famous master thieves of the martial world, none would dare infiltrate Shaolin… However, we have already cast the inescapable net from the foot of Mount Song, so he will not escape easily.
-I see. I hope the culprit is caught.
-Thank you.
After finishing their exchange, Great Monk Hyeon-u shared a few words with Dojin before hurrying off again.
On the second day, many martial artists visited the VIP section where the members of the Yeomhwa Family were seated.
“A pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so much about the Phoenix of Sichuan preparing to take flight that my ears are ringing.”
Seeing the old man in his neat Taoist robes, Mujin gave a slight bow.
“We meet for the first time. I am Hwa Mujin, Head of the Yeomhwa Family.”
Elder Myeong-hyeon, a Taoist master from Wudang and head of the Doyeong Palace, smiled gently.
When a senior known as the Supreme Fist of Tai Chi, the greatest fist master of Wudang, came to greet him personally, Mujin had no choice but to show his respects and receive the greeting.
“I wanted to meet you in person and put a face to the name. The rumors about you are endless. And now that I’ve met you, I see they don’t do you justice.”
“Thank you.”
Besides him, family heads and elders from the Nine Great Sects, as well as minor and mid-sized sects, visited Mujin relentlessly.
After the Hidden Dragon of Sichuan, once thought to be merely a rising master, defeated the eldest son of the Iron Fortress in a single blow and commanded the elders of Kongtong to descend from Mount Song, there was no shortage of people wanting to get acquainted and form a connection with him.
Worn martial arts robes, hair tied back carelessly. A crude iron sword wrapped in cloth. In contrast to his simple appearance, his core was that of a righteous master who wouldn’t back down even before the elders of Kongtong.
Furthermore, since such a master was still unmarried, it was only natural that people lined up, hoping to form a connection with him.
Martial families with daughters made determined advances, trying to build a relationship with the Yeomhwa Family, and some even brought their unmarried daughters to ask him outright.
Dealing with all these visitors was quite exhausting.
-You look tired.
A familiar voice reached his ears, and Mujin turned his gaze to find its owner.
-You’re here. Good. Get rid of these pests for me.
Just as Mujin’s telepathic message ended, the presence of the Poison Emperor was felt among the martial artists who were surrounding and talking to him.
“Ahem! You all seem to have a lot of free time!”
Noticing his presence, those who recognized the Poison Emperor greeted him with stiff expressions.
An old man with a plain appearance and simple clothes, not easily recognizable on the street.
But this was the Poison Emperor, a difficult old man who wouldn’t hesitate to spew venom when displeased and wouldn’t exchange a single word with martial artists he disliked.
Not many martial artists in the Central Plains welcomed an encounter with the Poison Emperor.
“Lord Hwa, Lord Hwa. Well then, let’s talk again next time.”
“We’ll see you later.”
“We’ll be on our way…”
Watching the martial artists retreat like an ebbing tide at the Poison Emperor’s appearance, Mujin plopped down in his seat.
-You look exhausted.
-In the old days, these guys wouldn’t have dared to say a word to me, but now they’re all over me. It’s tiring. And they keep dragging women here, trying to set me up.
-Hehehe. That’s because you’re a desirable man.
-That’s not exactly a welcome compliment from another man.
-But what can you do? It’s the truth. I wanted you for a son-in-law myself.
The Poison Emperor sat next to Mujin, acting like a fan to swat away flies.
However, there were also those who approached without a care for the Poison Emperor’s presence.
“Would it be alright if I joined you?”
At the question from the woman whose expression barely changed, Mujin looked up at her.
It was Jeong Su-ae, the one who had left a deep impression on him during yesterday’s match.
As she approached, Soyeon and Dojin’s eyes sparkled as they looked up at her.
Seeing his two younger siblings fidgeting in their seats, Mujin nodded.
“Go ahead. There’s plenty of room.”
As the reserved woman, whose face rarely betrayed emotion, took a seat, another woman who had been watching from a distance began to walk over.
Dojin and Soyeon bombarded Jeong Su-ae with questions, and she answered them calmly and concisely.
“So, you weren’t nervous during your match yesterday?”
“If I am stronger than my opponent, I will win. If my skills are lacking, I will lose. When there are only two possible outcomes, is there a need to be nervous?”
At her unique answer, a look of admiration began to fill Soyeon’s eyes.
Just then, a new woman approached Mujin’s seat.
“I am Seomun Jin-hui of the Seomun Family. I have heard the rumors of the Yeomhwa Family Head and have long admired you. May I join you?”
If Jeong Su-ae was a woman who exuded a refined and elegant grace, the beauty who now stood confidently before Mujin radiated a more direct and alluring charm.
She wore martial arts robes with nothing exposed, yet they couldn’t hide her curvaceous figure, her upturned eyes, and her bright red lips.
She was a woman with a captivating smile that could make any man swoon.
Seeing her approach the Yeomhwa Family’s VIP section and speak to Mujin, several martial artists began to whisper.
-It seems both the Old Beauty and the New Beauty of the Central Plains are interested in the Hidden Dragon of Sichuan.
-What a lucky man. To even catch the eye of Seomun Jin-hui.
Before Jeong Su-ae appeared at the Orthodox Grand Tournament five years ago at the age of eighteen, Seomun Jin-hui had been the one called the New Beauty of the Central Plains.
As both Seomun Jin-hui, who became the Old Beauty with Jeong Su-ae’s arrival, and Jeong Su-ae, the New Beauty, left their own seats to sit near Mujin, fires of jealousy ignited in the hearts of the men.
All the male martial artists glared at Mujin with jealous eyes, while the women glared at the New Beauty and the Old Beauty with wary gazes.
Mujin, who had been looking up indifferently at Seomun Jin-hui smiling at him with her eyes, shifted his gaze to the two handmaidens standing behind her.
*’Oh?’*
“Fine. Since all under heaven are brothers, what’s so difficult about sharing a table?”
The Poison Emperor tilted his head as Mujin answered so amiably.
“Thank you.”
With those words, Seomun Jin-hui sat in the seat closest to Mujin.
The VIP section where the Yeomhwa Family sat was now drawing more attention than the dueling stages.
And then, a martial artist who had been preparing for his match, his eyes burning with the same fire as the other men as he glared at Mujin, stepped onto the stage.
-It’s the Sword Dragon of Wudang, Cheong Mu-hak!!
-The Sword Dragon of Wudang!!!
Shouts erupted from all over as people recognized the man who had stepped onto the stage.
One of the strong contenders for victory in this Orthodox Grand Tournament and the head disciple of the Wudang Sect.
Cheong Mu-hak, the man who would lead the next generation of Wudang, shifted his gaze from the Yeomhwa Family’s VIP section to look at his opponent.
The fourth son of the Tang Clan’s direct line. Dang Ho-cheon.
He was a year older than Mujin, but he was a newcomer with no particular reputation to speak of.
Seeing the Sword Dragon of Wudang, who seemed more focused on the Hidden Dragon of Sichuan in the VIP seats than on him, Dang Ho-cheon clenched his jaw.
*’Does he not even see me as a threat?’*
The moment Dang Ho-cheon, building up his momentum, met the eyes of the Sword Dragon of Wudang, Cheong Mu-hak, the monk official shouted.
-Begin!
The matches began simultaneously on all four stages.
But the crowd’s attention naturally focused on the stage where the Sword Dragon of Wudang was fighting.
A fight between the head disciple of Wudang, one of the Nine Great Sects, and a direct descendant of the Tang Clan, the greatest family in the Central Plains, was a subject that piqued everyone’s interest.
-Is that your grandson?
Watching Dang Ho-cheon’s opening stance, Mujin sent a telepathic message to the Poison Emperor.
-Yes. My son’s youngest, the one he dotes on. He’s just now come out into the world to gain experience, and his first opponent has to be a strong one.
The Poison Emperor expressed his regret, wishing his grandson could have gained experience against an easier opponent.
-The shock will be great.
At Mujin’s message, the Poison Emperor nodded with a bitter expression.
Though both were first-rate martial artists, there was an insurmountable gap in skill between the Sword Dragon of Wudang and Dang Ho-cheon.
The moment the match began, Dang Ho-cheon shot forward, throwing a punch at the Sword Dragon of Wudang.
Seeing this, Seomun Jin-hui spoke.
“In your eyes, Lord Hwa, who do you think will win?”
Seomun Jin-hui leaned toward Mujin, her voice sweet and alluring.
“Well. I apologize for saying this in front of Elder Poison Emperor, but I believe Taoist Cheong Mu-hak has the upper hand.”
“Oh, my, I thought so too… My apologies, Elder.”
“It’s fine. I see it the same way.”
The Poison Emperor glanced at Seomun Jin-hui, who smiled with her eyes and stuck out her tongue playfully, and inwardly shook his head.
*’She’s no ordinary fox.’*
Seomun Jin-hui exuded sensuality without being vulgar, leaving room for advances without seeming easy.
-I thought you had no interest in women?
At the Poison Emperor’s question, Mujin replied, his eyes fixed on the dueling stage.
-I don’t.
-And yet you let that girl sit by you.
-I’m not interested in her, but in her handmaidens. Don’t look at them. Their senses are extraordinary.
At Mujin’s words, the Poison Emperor extended his senses to examine Seomun Jin-hui’s handmaidens, but he couldn’t feel any particular energy.
They felt like ordinary servants from a martial family who had learned some basic martial arts, nothing special.
The moment the Poison Emperor felt a flicker of doubt.
-Woooooah!!!
-As expected of the Sword Dragon of Wudang!
-Incredible!
Less than thirty exchanges into the match, Cheong Mu-hak’s sword was already at Dang Ho-cheon’s throat.
“I have lost…”
At Dang Ho-cheon’s words, the Sword Dragon of Wudang sheathed his sword with fluid speed and once again sent a fiery gaze toward Mujin.
Mujin, who happened to be looking at him, met his eyes and tilted his head at the challenging, spirited look the Sword Dragon of Wudang was giving him.
-He’s provoking me right now, isn’t he?
-He is. Looks like he’s been gearing up for it.
-Does my family… have a grudge with Wudang?
The Poison Emperor smiled and replied.
-Since you won’t tell me about the Seomun Family’s handmaidens, I’ll keep my mouth shut as well.
-…
Descending from the stage, Dang Ho-cheon walked toward the Yeomhwa Family’s VIP section, where his grandfather was, with his head hung low.
