I Shouldn't Have Joined the Martial Arts Alliance - Chapter 113

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Entering the Murim Alliance without good reason — Chapter 113
The Konglun Sect Master, who had been clenching his teeth and enduring it all for the sake of his dignity, furrowed his brow and glared at the witch Jang Ryeo.
“I’ve always said: even if your mouth is crooked, your words should be straight. Your son may have gained fame, but our Konglun’s tradition is not something that would fall to the sword of a house as lacking in tradition as the Jang Family.”
“Ha! Tradition? Did you just say tradition?”
The Konglun Sect Master straightened his shoulders and spoke with confidence.
“Indeed. Is it not so? The Jang Family’s tradition amounts to no more than a few hundred years. And what they call the Jang Family’s secret martial art—it’s nothing but a patchwork of borrowed techniques. If I’m wrong, prove it.”
The witch Jang Ryeo was at her wit’s end.
“Hmph. If that’s how you want to talk about it, then most of the sects here are using swords that trace back to the old Shaolin and Wudang! Isn’t that right? Of course it is!”
She wasn’t wrong.
“Now, see here—”
“What? Am I wrong? Am I?”
The Konglun Sect Master wanted nothing more than to leap from his seat and hurl every insult he could muster at the witch, but there were far too many witnesses.
Too many watching.
And so.
“…Fine.”
“Hmph. I knew you’d swallow your words for dignity’s sake. Anyway. Tch, tch. As if such petty face matters. That’s your problem—that’s why Kangho rots while you simply watch. Day in and day out, spewing nothing but talk of Orthodox Faction and Greater Righteousness. What good are words when the wound festers and decays beneath?”
“That’s hardly something for you to say, witch.”
After all, the witch Jang Ryeo herself had done nothing for Kangho.
“Hmph. We’ll see.”
Once Jang Ryeo herself became the Murim Alliance Leader, things would be different.
And finally, Sa U-rin and Chung So-un, the second disciple of the Konglun Sect, took their places on the Combat Arena set up in the Training Grounds.
Chung So-un, his face composed, scanned the cheering crowd, then turned his gaze to Sa U-rin across from him and spoke.
“Must be nice, being so popular.”
Sa U-rin shrugged, as if he gave it no thought.
“So you don’t care about popularity?”
“You could say that.”
“Blessed with good fortune, then.”
“Perhaps.”
“Then, shall we see if you’re really as strong as the rumors say?”
With that, Chung So-un raised his wooden sword.
“Though I’ve heard you’re a favorite to win, you look a bit lacking.”
The space between Chung So-un’s brows creased. His raised wooden sword lowered slightly.
“If you’re trying to shake me with talk like that—”
“Why would I? I’m just saying what I feel.”
Chung So-un hated losing in a battle of wits. There was nothing worse than entering a match already defeated in spirit.
“…I have to say, you look even weaker than your reputation suggests. In fact, you look downright pathetic. What’s wrong?”
“Yeah. Fair point.”
“Fair point?”
“Yeah. Just as you said—I’m pathetic right now.”
Unable to use the Dark Shadow Divine Art and the Heavenly Thunder Divine Art, forced to rely only on the Jang Family’s Wind and Cloud Sword, he felt genuinely diminished.
Of course, compared to Chung So-un, he was anything but weak—but that hardly mattered.
Meanwhile, Chung So-un was left speechless by Sa U-rin’s response.
“…You’re insane.”
To demean himself like this in front of an opponent.
He’d heard his mother was mad, but he’d never imagined her son could be mad as well.
“Not quite. I just hear that kind of thing sometimes.”
“…That’s the same thing.”
“Is it?”
…
If he responded further, Chung So-un himself would start to sound strange, so he fell silent.
“Looks like I won the verbal sparring.”
“…But I’ll win when we actually fight.”
“Will you, really?”
“…You can only know what’s longer and what’s shorter by comparing them.”
“Ah.”
That was something Sa U-rin said often enough.
“You’re getting better at this.”
…
Chung So-un couldn’t tell if this was flattery or mockery.
Clearly, this man’s tongue was no ordinary weapon.
“I’ve never seen a strong man who talks much.”
“Do I talk that much? I don’t think so.”
Now that he thought about it, maybe he did.
“You’re the one who doesn’t talk. Is it because you came down from the mountain?”
“The mountain… that’s a stretch.”
Not everyone who lived in the mountains was taciturn. Chung So-un simply lacked a gift for words.
“All right, let’s not worry about that. Shall we get down to business then? The crowd seems to be waiting.”
“…Yes.”
Chung So-un raised his wooden sword again. The surrounding energy grew fierce.
‘As expected.’
He looked gentle, almost innocent, but representing the Konglun Sect as he did, his internal energy was no joke.
He was on an entirely different level from anyone Sa U-rin had faced in the preliminary rounds. As it should be.
So Sa U-rin gripped his wooden sword in earnest. The true contest was about to begin.
Once Sa U-rin and Chung So-un were ready, a drum sounded to mark the beginning of the Round of 32.
Boom, boom, boom!
Crack!
A sound so violent it seemed to tear the Combat Arena echoed through the Training Grounds. In that same instant, Chung So-un moved.
The Cloud Dragon Eight Techniques—the signature martial method of the Konglun Sect, acknowledged throughout the Gangho—unfurled before Sa U-rin’s eyes.
Fast.
And fluid.
It was the moment Sa U-rin understood firsthand why the Gangho recognized the Konglun Sect’s technique.
And following it came the Konglun Sect’s Taihū Sword Dragon Style.
Acknowledged alongside the Cloud Dragon Eight Techniques, it was a sword art that amply demonstrated why Konglun still ranked among the Nine Great Sects. Chung So-un was the living proof.
Hiss.
Chung So-un’s wooden sword danced as it swung toward Sa U-rin.
Yet Sa U-rin remained unmoved. Even his eyes didn’t shift.
He simply felt.
Sa U-rin didn’t perceive through his five senses alone. Because the Honwon-gong existed in the world, existing here as well, he simply felt.
As Chung So-un bore down on him with mounting force, doubt crept into his mind.
‘…Why?’
Why was this man so at ease?
By now, Sa U-rin should have moved—either dodging or raising his own wooden sword to block. That was what should have happened.
Yet he remained still.
And that unease gnawed at him. Something felt wrong.
So Chung So-un didn’t want to simply press forward with that unsettling, worrisome feeling.
It felt as though an invisible trap waited just ahead.
‘That’s right. Even a sturdy bridge should be tested before crossing.’
Click.
Chung So-un’s movement, which had been like lightning, suddenly stopped.
Sa U-rin, who rarely grew flustered, found himself momentarily taken aback.
“…What are you doing?”
He’d never expected this. To stop mid-attack like that?
It wasn’t as though he’d suddenly needed to relieve himself.
“I sense danger behind your move.”
“……”
For a moment, Sa U-rin was left speechless.
So only true geniuses came to the Cheongryong Murim Tournament—and this man possessed truly exceptional talent, didn’t he?
Of course, even in the preliminary rounds, he’d faced those who met the standard of geniuses by minor sect standards.
But they were geniuses who had not transcended the limits of the minor sects. In that sense, they weren’t truly geniuses at all.
A true genius had to surpass those very limits to earn the name.
In any case.
This Chung So-un from the Konglun Sect before him seemed to possess the genuine talent befitting a member of the Nine Sects and One Gang.
He appeared to have keen senses sharp enough to perceive danger. Had it been otherwise, Chung So-un would likely have fallen victim to Sa U-rin’s unexpected ambush and been defeated within a few moves.
But Chung So-un had sensed it intuitively and halted his attack—wasn’t that what had just happened?
It showed remarkable instinct and judgment. In other words, Chung So-un was among the top-tier geniuses the Gangho could boast of.
So Sa U-rin spoke.
“You have something rare.”
It was no accident that he represented Konglun.
“I hear that so often it’s stopped being flattering.”
“…I see.”
Chung So-un had grown up hearing the word “genius” and endless praise so often that his reaction felt muted.
Sa U-rin himself would likely have shown something similar. Being in the same circumstance.
“You go in first.”
“……Me?”
“Yes. You.”
Troublesome. This Chung So-un would never launch a first attack now.
He hadn’t wanted this to drag on…….
It was going to take longer than he’d hoped. A tedious exchange of feints and parries.
What could be done?
The opponent had no intention of striking first…….
“……Understood.”
There was only one way: overwhelm him with Honwon-gong.
Until he collapsed from exhaustion.
So Sa U-rin kicked hard against the Combat Arena floor.
Crack!
A harsh sound cut through the crowd’s roar as it surged toward Chung So-un.
Clang!
Sa U-rin’s wooden sword clashed against Chung So-un’s. As expected. And Chung So-un’s face still wore that smile.
Right, for now he could manage that. Chung So-un’s internal energy and physical strength were still full.
But soon he would learn.
That internal energy, physical strength—they all have a bottom eventually.
And Sa U-rin would work tirelessly to make that moment come sooner.
Because if he let this match drag on…….
Did he want to die?
—he would be subjected to his mother’s relentless nagging, and that was certain.
He had heard it.
What his mother spat at the Konglun Sect Master.
Thank goodness he had heard it. If he hadn’t…….
Clang, clang, clang!
Chung So-un was desperately blocking Sa U-rin’s relentless assault.
‘……This can’t be……!’
He had never imagined such an unceasing torrent of attacks. The man looked desperate, like he was about to soil himself.
Usually, desperate men have openings, but the Witch’s son shows none.
‘Perhaps…….’
He should have attacked first. But no—the opposite filled his mind.
‘……Right.’
……This is the best choice.
He’s barely keeping up with the current assault. If he’d been caught in a surprise attack…….
It would have been far too easy to fall.
And if that happened…….
Konglun would be utterly disgraced—anyone could see that.
From the start, he hadn’t expected Konglun to win the tournament. Of course, the goal was victory in the Cheongryong Murim Tournament, but that was just what it was—a goal.
A goal.
The true favorite was someone else entirely.
The elders of Konglun knew this, and anyone with decent information in the Gangho could see it just as easily.
Who would win the Cheongryong Murim Tournament this time.
So Chung So-un’s duty was simply not to disgrace them—that alone was enough.
But…….
Clang, clang!
The Witch’s son’s assault grew fiercer. He’d thought it couldn’t get fiercer, but it only accelerated, grew rougher.
‘This bastard…….’
Is he a monster?
If he kept drawing on his internal energy like this and launching continuous attacks, it should be running dry by now…….
No, by the normal logic of combat, his energy should already be bottoming out…….
Yet he keeps pouring it out?
No matter how hard Chung So-un tried to use Konglun’s famed lightness technique to create distance, he couldn’t escape the Witch’s son’s reach.
Chung So-un was being pushed harder and harder.
What in blazes!
Has he actually become a monster?!
As if he’d crawled inside Chung So-un’s own mind, as if he saw through every movement before it happened—that’s how the man attacked. Every time Chung So-un moved, how did he know to strike that exact spot…….
I’m mad enough to jump out of my skin!
‘If I just keep taking this…….’
Soon, wouldn’t it seem like Chung So-un was destroying himself?
Still, if I’m to preserve even a shred of the Konglun Sect’s honor, I ought to mount a proper attack before I lose…….
There’s no opening, no opening at all!
No, it wasn’t that there was no opening.
He simply wouldn’t give me one.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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