Chapter 432
## Chapter 432. The Wings of the South (2)
—
The second contender stepped onto the combat platform. Since this was an Infinite Competition, the order of entry was irrelevant as long as the registration was valid.
“Lee Geum-pyo of the Tae-eul Sect wins!”
True to the nature of the event, the third challenger was swiftly undone, and the fourth stepped forward to take their place.
“Lee Geum-pyo of the Tae-eul Sect wins!”
“Lee Geum-pyo of the Tae-eul…….”
By the time the fifth challenger took the stage, the collective mood of the audience began to shift noticeably. At first, they dismissed it as mere luck. By the third victory, doubt crept in. By the fifth consecutive win, they began to realize they were witnessing something extraordinary.
“Lee Geum-pyo of the Tae-eul Sect wins!”
When the fifth challenger was finally forced off the platform after an intense fifty-bout exchange, the crowd erupted into an unprecedented frenzy of cheers.
“Waaaaaa!”
“You’re the absolute best! Tae-eul Sect!”
“Geum-pyo! Can you see me?! We played together when we were kids!!!”
Compared to those he faced, Geum-pyo was significantly younger and wore incredibly modest garments. Watching someone of his profile secure win after win was more than enough to ignite the passions of the common onlookers. The atmosphere surrounding the Tae-eul Sect’s martial arts trial reached a fever pitch.
“He is truly remarkable…….”
“So his acceptance into the Murim Academy wasn’t handed to him on a silver platter?”
On the other hand, a heavy gloom settled over the ranks of the demonstrators. The raw capability displayed by the Tae-eul Sect deviated completely from what they had anticipated.
“Moreover…… that youth possesses far more combat instinct than one would assume.”
Those typically labeled as ‘rising stars’ or ‘prodigies’ often exhibit flawless execution in form and routine. However, they almost always fall short when it comes to actual life-or-death engagements. Wielding a blade for training is entirely detached from wielding a blade to end a life. The chasm between the two realms is as vast as the distance between heaven and earth.
“Where could a boy like that have accumulated such experience?”
Yet, the tactical precision with which this novice from the Academy dictated the flow of battle was astonishing. His situational adaptability was superb, mirroring someone who had spent every waking moment fighting desperately for survival.
“Is there any reason to let them build momentum by offering up successive defeats?”
Losing to the Tae-eul Sect was a concept they had never even considered, but if they allowed this pattern to persist, they would merely become stepping stones to elevate the Tae-eul Sect’s prestige. The shared sentiment among them was that they could no longer afford to let the momentum be wrestled away.
“Those who lack seasoned experience, step back. I do not suggest your martial prowess is inferior to the Tae-eul Sect. It is simply that the youth possesses an anomalously deep reservoir of real combat experience.”
This counsel was taken to heart, and several individuals who were prepared to step up chose to hold back. After all, the Tae-eul Sect only had five graduates from the Academy present. They could easily execute their plans once those five were completely drained.
“……Lee Geum-pyo of the Tae-eul Sect wins!”
With the alteration in their rotation, the impact was immediate. The engagements, which had previously concluded within fifty bouts, now stretched past a hundred. Consequently, Lee Geum-pyo’s breathing grew increasingly labored.
“……L-Lee Geum-pyo of the Tae-eul Sect wins!”
The seventh engagement. The clash exceeded two hundred exchanges, leaving Lee Geum-pyo with visible lacerations in over half a dozen places.
“Can you continue?”
Gang Chae-seok inquired, looking down at Geum-pyo, who had dropped to the ground, propping himself up against his heavy shield while gasping for air.
“Huff, huff, I-I can manage…… I can manage.”
“If your body has reached its limit, yield.”
“…….”
For reasons known only to him, Geum-pyo directed his vision toward the rear. In that spot.
*Sliiiide—*
Jin So-un remained there, drawing his thumb across his throat while maintaining a raised posture.
“I-I can still keep going!!”
Observing this entire interaction, Gang Chae-seok’s expression hardened into granite.
‘No matter how much you deny it, your body says otherwise.’
In that exact instant, Geum-pyo forced himself to his feet, swaying unsteadily as he retrieved his blade and shield.
The eighth engagement. Jeon Suk-ya, the renowned Guisan Swordsman who operated throughout Honam Province, stepped onto the platform. A fierce struggle ensued over three hundred bouts, leaving numerous small and large gashes across Geum-pyo’s frame. The previously electrified atmosphere suddenly grew dead silent.
“Huff, huff, huff.”
Because the spectacle had turned so agonizingly brutal and lopsided, the onlookers held their breath, anticipating a grim conclusion.
“……I initially deemed you presumptuous, but it appears your capabilities match your confidence.”
Jeon Suk-ya offered his first words.
“Regrettably for you, this is where your run concludes.”
The blade of the Guisan Swordsman, which clearly bore the fluid, unpredictable characteristics of the Jeomchang Sect’s whip-sword techniques, lunged from every conceivable angle. Geum-pyo, left with no choice but to concede ground as the bout surpassed two hundred and fifty exchanges, compacted his frame entirely to seek refuge behind the Geumgang-pae.
*Clang, clang, clang, clang.*
Even though the Geumgang-pae was a renowned spiritual treasure, it lacked the surface area to protect his entire form, and his flesh continued to be carved away.
*Squelch.*
As fresh crimson sprayed outward, Jeon Suk-ya, sensing the definitive moment of triumph, vaulted toward the precise angle the shield failed to protect.
“Did no one ever teach you that martial artists forego shields because they inevitably create a blind spot?”
And in that precise fraction of a second.
*Ping.*
A shimmering metallic flash shot forth, instantly winding tightly around Jeon Suk-ya’s blade and forearm.
“W-What is this?!”
He desperately attempted to wrench his hand free from the binding, but the tension was far too immense to be broken by brute force alone. Furthermore, his momentum was instantly reversed as he was violently yanked downward.
*Bam!*
The moment he crashed against the solid earth with the exact velocity of his initial ascent, Jeon Suk-ya scrambled to regain his footing, but.
“Hwanyeong-sura-gak!”
Before his senses could register it, a barrage of phantom footprints materialized directly before his vision.
*Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!*
He threw his upper body backward to minimize the blunt force, yet he remained unable to properly defend himself, still bound and pulled by the line connected to his weapon.
“Bigeom-chulse!”
Immediately following, a cascading illusion of the aforementioned blades unleashed itself directly before his eyes.
*Chrrrrrrrrrr.*
“N-No!”
Jeon Suk-ya, entirely engulfed by a tempest of razor-sharp steel from crown to sole, collapsed into a bloody heap.
“I was taught that the blind spot of a shield exists precisely to lure the enemy into creating an opening of their own.”
“……Who could possibly devise such an insane rational…….”
Ultimately, Jeon Suk-ya lacked the strength to finish his utterance.
“L-Lee Geum-pyo of the Tae-eul Sect wins!”
Geum-pyo, after detaching the Biryong-jo, walked with heavy, shuffling steps back to his position. His shield arm and blade hand hung entirely spent, yet he stood firm once more after carelessly wiping away the crimson pooling down his visage. Concluding that he could no longer permit this display, Gang Chae-seok stepped in to intervene.
“Desist! You have proven your point!”
“……N-No. There are still opponents remaining.”
Gang Chae-seok felt a sharp pang in his chest. A youth at an age where he should be enjoying the simple pleasures of the Jianghu, having only recently crossed into his twentieth year, was desperately enduring a crushing weight. What could possibly compel this young man, who ought to be living without such cares, to carry himself like a hardened veteran? Was it not because the elders of the world refused to conduct themselves with honor? Gang Chae-seok felt a wave of profound mortification and grief wash over him.
“Your contribution is already far greater than required. Step down.”
“No! I, I can endure this. I refuse to witness a disastrous outcome.”
“Geum-pyo!”
Given his current physical state, it was impossible to tell how many weeks of bed rest he would require. Why was this youth subjecting his own body to such torment?
“Lee Geum-pyo.”
Just then, a detached, slow drawl drifted over from the direction of the Tae-eul Sect camp.
“That is sufficient, withdraw.”
Instantly, a spark of clarity returned to Geum-pyo’s dimming eyes.
“T-There are still challengers remaining.”
“I am hardly satisfied, but I shall overlook it this once, so step down.”
“T-Then, that dreadful miraculous opportunity…….”
“Indeed, I shall spare you from it.”
“Understood!”
Geum-pyo instantly turned his gaze to Gang Chae-seok and blurted out,
“I concede the match!”
“……???”
“Ah, I cannot go on. Absolutely impossible. I feel as though I am about to lose consciousness!”
Leaving those words behind, Lee Geum-pyo ambled back to his sect’s side.
“…….”
The countenance of Gang Chae-seok, who remained frozen watching this baffling resolution, was a mix of bewilderment and sorrow.
Eun-ho eventually made his way back after defeating a total of four adversaries. Sa-ryeon claimed victory over five, while Dong-ryong managed to overcome eight. Compared to the monumental stand made by Geum-pyo, it might have seemed lesser on paper, but given that the caliber of the demonstrators had risen sharply following Geum-pyo’s display of martial might, it was an incredibly impressive feat. Particularly when Dong-ryong, who still bore the appearance of an adolescent, triumphed over eight foes, the morale of the Tae-eul Sect soared to new heights once more.
However, the momentum ground to a sudden halt after Gwak Sam-nam exhausted himself against a single opponent, and Un Ji-hyang fell without securing a single victory. Song Ja-mun and Gong Ji-hyang subsequently suffered back-to-back defeats due to their obvious lack of real-world experience. While Wang So-so managed to arrest the downward spiral by securing three victories, the vibrant energy from earlier had entirely evaporated.
The demonstrators quickly picked up on the fact that the vast gap between the disciples trained at the Murim Academy and the standard disciples was astronomical, prompting them to exchange mocking sneers as their confidence surged. Meanwhile, the vitality within the Tae-eul Sect ranks plummeted to its lowest point yet.
“It appears our run has concluded here.”
The volume of first-generation disciples within the Tae-eul Sect was incredibly sparse. They were the individuals taken in during the sect’s darkest eras, but because a significant portion had relocated to the urban centers to earn a livelihood, their connections to the Tae-eul Sect had naturally faded over time. In those days, the Tae-eul Sect simply lacked the financial stability to sustain them. Furthermore, sending out any more second-generation disciples would result in nothing short of a string of unmitigated disasters. In Eun-ho’s estimation, forcing untested youngsters onto the stage to be battered was an act of sheer madness.
“What nonsense are you uttering? There remains one more.”
Naturally, my perspective on the matter was entirely different.
“Who?”
“Gang Yu-seong.”
Eun-ho cast a backward glance, spotting Yu-seong standing completely paralyzed with apprehension, and spoke.
“……**Dae-sahyeong**, have you completely lost your senses?”
At this point, challenging authority had become an everyday occurrence. This is precisely why influence can be so dangerous.
“Would you prefer to experience a ‘miraculous opportunity’ yourself?”
“……**Dae-sahyeong**, both Ja-mun and Ji-hyang have sustained injuries. Yu-seong is far too young for this.”
“Yu-seong.”
“Y-Yes!”
“You are capable of handling this, correct?”
“I-I shall give it my all, no, I will do everything within my power!”
“No need. There is no reason to exert yourself fully. Merely perform adequately and return.”
Gang Yu-seong, whose nerves were entirely shot, synchronized his arms and legs awkwardly as he marched forward, drawing a wave of mockery from the gathered crowd.
“Wahahahaha!”
Eun-ho observed the sight with absolute despair before turning to me with gritted teeth.
“Are you truly intent on throwing a child like that to the wolves?”
My goodness, he truly does not know when to be quiet.
*Tap, tap.*
“Ugh! W-Wait!”
I quickly struck his acupoints to freeze his movements and silence his tongue, locking Eun-ho’s gaze firmly toward the training square, and whispered.
“Observe carefully. Witness the pinnacle form that an individual who truly comprehends the **Tae-eul-jin-gyeong** within our Tae-eul Sect can achieve. For this is the exact trajectory that all of you must eventually follow.”
*Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.*
The weight of thousands of judging eyes. The martial artist opposite him, glaring with pure animosity. Even his own form, entirely frozen with terror. A chilly sweat trickled down his back, and the frantic racing of his pulse made his vision swim.
‘Can I actually do this?’
‘What if my defeat brings utter humiliation?’
‘Am I going to ruin the reputation of the Tae-eul Sect?’
‘Am I about to fail the very people who gave me everything?’
The toxic cycle of anxieties grew longer and heavier with each passing second.
Gang Yu-seong held a deep affection for the Tae-eul Sect. He appreciated it immensely now that the sect’s material conditions had vastly improved, but his devotion had existed long before that. They had taken him in, alongside his three younger sisters, without demanding a single thing in return, and they had expressed profound sorrow on his behalf when they discovered he had lost his parents. The Tae-eul Sect served as a genuine sanctuary and family for Gang Yu-seong and his siblings.
And now, the frantic trembling of his soul refused to quiet down because of the overwhelming dread that he might bring ruin to that very sanctuary.
*Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.*
He was terrified. Terrified of becoming an outcast. He was filled with dread. Dread that he might lose his home. The shaking of his hand as he gripped his hilt remained uncontrollable.
“Hey youngster, do you even possess the knowledge of how to properly grip a hilt?”
A massive wave of derisive laughter rippled through the ranks of the demonstrators. It was entirely mistaken. Who was he to think he could represent the honor of the Tae-eul Sect, to stand for his family on this stage? Hot tears began to blur his sight.
Amidst the sprawling sea of onlookers, his young sisters, watching his figure with pale, terrified expressions, entered his field of vision. Sandwiched between towering adults, one small girl desperately clutched the hand of an even smaller child, shivering from sheer anxiety. Would I ever possess the strength to safeguard those children throughout their lives? Furthermore, would I be capable of shielding the people of the Tae-eul Sect?
His pulse was hammering far too violently, suffocating his breathing. He wished to flee. He desperately wished to retreat.
At that exact moment, a deeply familiar resonance reached his mind via sound transmission (**Jeon-eum**).
[I have never instructed you to carry the weight of the Tae-eul Sect on your shoulders.]
It was the distinct voice of the individual who had served as his ultimate benchmark and guiding light from the moment they first crossed paths.
[Do you truly believe the Tae-eul Sect is so fragile that it requires a boy of your years to protect it?]
Gang Yu-seong unconsciously shifted his posture and gave a slight shake of his head.
[Place your faith in your family. For your family is not something that will shatter or fracture so easily.]
At the explicit mention of ‘family,’ the dam broke, and a quiet sob escaped his lips.
“Hic…… hic…….”
Upon witnessing him break down in weeping right before the commencement of the bout, both the demonstrators and the general public erupted into boisterous amusement.
“Boy. If you require a crying session, vacate the stage and do it elsewhere.”
The opposing martial artist made no effort to mask his irritation at being paired with someone who amounted to nothing more than an emotional toddler.
“N-No. I am alright. I can…… hic, I can perform.”
And his resentment toward the Tae-eul Sect grew even fiercer for having the audacity to push such an unformed child onto the platform.
“I imagine you view this stage lightly because it is framed as a martial exhibition. Let us discover if your elders still consider it a wise learning experience after their disciple is carried away as a permanent invalid.”
*Boom!*
The challenger’s garments billowed violently as a tremendous surge of inner energy radiated in all directions. The loose dirt and gravel bordering the Great Training Ground were violently swept away in an instant as a savage, suffocating intent locked onto Gang Yu-seong.
“Begin!”
Accompanied by the resounding declaration from Gang Chae-seok, the martial artist dashed forward, executing the swift and lethal ‘Arrow-like Shadow’ movement technique.
