My Father Is the Number One Under Heaven - Chapter 59

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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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Episode 59. Who Will Win?
Silence fell over the Training Grounds.
Everyone wore expressions of shock.
Even the Baekrangdae members, who already knew his strength, couldn’t help but laugh dryly as they witnessed Yeo Unhwi’s power again.
And all the Sarimdanhyungdan members watching this match were left utterly dumbfounded.
Most striking of all was the expression on Jomin, the Sarimdanhyungdan Group Leader.
“…You.”
“Yes?”
Jomin fixed a blazing stare on the Sarimdanhyungdan member who had brought him the information about Yeo Unhwi.
“What exactly did you tell me a moment ago? That this man was nothing but an unlearned scholar with no grasp of Martial Arts?”
“No, I’m certain that’s what I heard…….”
“Then does he look to you now like an unlearned scholar who knows nothing of Martial Arts?”
“…….”
The member fell silent.
Even by his own measure, that account made no sense whatsoever.
His attempt to earn praise from the Group Leader with whatever information he’d managed to gather had instead become a blunder.
“Damn it.”
Jomin ground his teeth as he glared at Yeo Unhwi, who stood at ease in the center of the Training Grounds.
Shock wasn’t limited to them.
“…I don’t understand. How is this possible?”
“We were told you knew no Martial Arts.”
The attendants and servants who had arrived here with Peng Sejin were equally bewildered.
“Ha. Truly impressive.”
Peng Sejin had already known that Yeo Unhwi was a Peerless Master, but seeing his strength displayed so clearly like this filled him with wonder.
He found himself anew recognizing that the masked man who had saved him then must indeed be his brother.
A smile spread naturally across his face.
Then,
“Next! Who will step forward! Come on! Our Lord doesn’t like to wait, does he? Or have you all lost your nerve?”
Gutaesan’s confident voice rang out from the back, and all the Baekrangdae members burst into laughter.
In ordinary circumstances, such conduct would be utterly unacceptable in a friendly exchange match, but the situation had long since ceased to be merely an exchange for fellowship—hostility between the two sides had only grown.
Crackle.
Already reeling from an unexpected defeat, the Sarimdanhyungdan members, with Jomin at their head, bristled at Gutaesan’s provocation.
“I’ll go.”
“No, allow me to…….”
The angered Sarimdanhyungdan members stepped forward one after another, eager to face the opponent themselves, but Jomin didn’t answer easily—instead, his jaw worked as he chewed his lip.
His pride wouldn’t allow him to demand why they’d hidden their Martial Arts, why they’d deceived him.
More than anything, Jomin had always believed that whoever had been deceived was a fool—and that made it worse.
The more he looked at Yeo Unhwi’s face, the more fury rose within him.
However formidable the Swift Blade Soyu might be in the Sarimdanhyungdan, he was no match for him.
But he couldn’t bear that smug expression.
It was clear that he needed to show this man his true mettle.
“No. This time, I’ll go.”
Everyone looked startled at Jomin’s words.
He was a man who ordinarily never volunteered himself.
No one had imagined he would step forward to face Yeo Unhwi.
Jomin soon picked up a Wooden Sword and walked up onto the Training Grounds where Yeo Unhwi stood.
“You’ve managed to surprise me.”
“I didn’t know I had a talent for surprising people.”
“Ah, but will there be more to astonish me? I wonder?”
Yeo Unhwi simply smiled without answering.
As if to say, wait and see.
His every movement seemed steeped in ease.
Not a pretense of ease, but genuine composure.
Even with Jomin standing before him.
Jomin found Yeo Unhwi’s demeanor deeply displeasing.
His eyes soon turned fierce.
“I should warn you—my blade tends toward the savage, so do take care. It has a mind of its own and runs quite wild.”
“When one is unskilled, such things happen. I understand.”
Yeo Unhwi nodded as if he comprehended.
“…….”
Jomin felt like he was giving a full measure while receiving only words in return.
The more he spoke, the more he seemed to be tangled up in the conversation.
It was the first time in his life he’d experienced anything like this.
‘This bastard keeps….’
Killing intent blazed sharper in Jomin’s eyes.
Somehow, with every word Yeo Unhwi spoke, he never yielded an inch.
No matter that Jomin was younger than Yeo Unhwi—the very path he had walked was different from anything his opponent had known.
He was a genius among geniuses, chosen as Group Leader from the start by the Murim League and nurtured with utmost care.
Simply because he’d been fortunate enough to strike down a single Sarimdanhyungdan member, he shouldn’t be so bold as to become arrogant before someone like him.
‘Insolent bastard. I’ll make sure to cripple you today.’
Jomin, harbouring an intent to kill, soon composed his expression and fixed his gaze on Yeo Unhwi.
“Well then, there’s no need to drag this out further. Let’s begin at once.”
“Agreed.”
With that, the sparring match was about to commence.
“W-who do you think will win?”
One of the Sarimdanhyungdan members spoke with curious intent.
“You fool. Is that what you call a question? Of course our Group Leader will win.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because our Group Leader scored the second-highest mark in all the Group Leader trials held by the Murim League! And he’s the direct disciple of Elder Cheonjonghu of the Murim League. He was already counted among the finest even in the Late Stage Realm years ago. How could he possibly lose?”
That wasn’t all.
Jomin had already fought and won against renowned swordsmen throughout the martial world, not just among his peers.
That wasn’t something anyone could accomplish.
“That’s true. But the other side doesn’t seem weak either. Besides, they say he broke that old man’s wooden sword—the Extreme Wicked Demon.”
“Hmph. From what I hear, that aged fool was already gravely wounded and spent all his time hiding to recover. Breaking the sword of someone like that—what’s so remarkable about it? And you can bet they all rushed in together. We could do that anytime we wanted.”
No one who had ever faced even once a being known as the Absolute Evils could dare speak such words.
Yet the man held pride in Sarimdanhyungdan and was absolutely certain of Jomin’s victory.
“Besides, Soyu’s loss must have been pure luck. There’s no way Soyu could lose so easily to some novice who just started learning martial arts.”
…No, that didn’t seem right.
Another member, unable to readily agree with the one dismissing Baekrangdae, scratched his cheek.
But he didn’t bother revealing his true thoughts.
It would only lead to more pointless arguing.
From what he could see, Soyu had been overwhelmingly defeated.
It wasn’t a match where mere luck could be invoked.
How could anyone call that tremendous overhead strike mere luck?
In the meantime,
Whoosh.
Jomin took up his wooden sword and assumed his stance.
He was the direct disciple of Cheonjonghu, an elder of the Murim League who was master and disciple with Geomhwang, one of the Nine Absolute Evils.
Thanks to this, despite his cruel and sinister nature, he was called the swordsman with the greatest depth among his generation.
In fact, because he possessed natural talent from birth, he caught the eye of the Murim League elder from childhood and ascended to the Group Leader position early.
And now, in this place, his power was only beginning to reveal itself.
“Ooh. That is—!”
An exquisite swordplay unfolded before the eyes of those gathered at the Training Grounds.
Jomin was deploying his sword technique, the Palmyeongseobeop.
It appeared exceedingly light and beautiful to behold, yet each movement possessed formidable power—this was the hallmark of the Palmyeongseobeop, already counted among the World’s Greatest Sword Techniques and a peerless martial art.
For the very sword technique wielded by Geomhwang was the Palmyeongseobeop.
Of course, Geomhwang possessed other martial arts as well, such as the Chilsipiparrogeom, but regardless, the fact that the Palmyeongseobeop was the foundation and origin of Geomhwang was known to all under heaven.
Soon, what Yeo Unhwi deployed against the Palmyeongseobeop was the Mujindobeop, the foundational sword art of the Peng Clan.
Those unfamiliar with it said nothing, but those who recognized the technique could not hide their bewilderment.
When he could have drawn upon the Ohodanmundo or the Honoewonbyeokryokdo, techniques representing the Peng Clan itself, he instead drew forth the basic sword art that a new member of the Peng Clan would only just begin learning.
Though it was hardly surprising that Yeo Unhwi would not know the Ohodanmundo and the Honoewonbyeokryokdo.
The fact that he even knew the Mujindobeop was remarkable in itself.
“Brother, what on earth are you planning?”
Peng Sejin too was thrown into confusion.
Though he knew well the power Yeo Unhwi possessed, drawing forth the Mujindobeop—the basic martial art of the Peng Clan—against the Palmyeongseobeop, Geomhwang’s technique, seemed an ill-considered move no matter how one looked at it.
And despite Yeo Unhwi being an extraordinary peerless master, Peng Sejin’s heart swelled with worry and anxiety over whether he could truly withstand the martial arts of Geomhwang.
Meanwhile, Jomin was barely suppressing a hollow laugh.
Compared to the Palmyeongseobeop he was deploying, the Mujindobeop seemed far too basic and ordinary.
‘Ha! Are you trying to toy with me?’
Disbelief and irritation mingled in his heart.
But having come this far, he had no intention of showing mercy.
Since this man had stirred his blood to such a degree, he would have to pay the price.
Even if he was the Peng Clan’s son-in-law, this was a legitimate duel.
‘If he loses a limb or two by accident, what could he say?’
He was confident that, as the direct disciple of the Murim League’s elder, no one would dare raise objections to him.
As his thoughts reached that point, killing intent flooded his heart.
Very well then. Today I’ll make you regret the moment you challenged me.
His eyes gleamed.
And then,
Screech!
In the next instant, murderous killing intent began pouring forth from his blade.
What—?
The eyes of those watching the duel widened.
They were all taken aback by Jomin openly unleashing killing intent without restraint.
Peng Sejin and the members of the Baekrangdae shifted nervously, clearly debating whether they should intervene.
Yet through all these vicious attacks, Yeo Unhwi evaded each one with perfect ease.
As if he’d anticipated this, Jomin’s eyes gleamed as he drew out his next technique.
Falling Star Sword.
One of the supreme techniques of the Palmyeongseobeop revealed itself.
Immediately, a formidable wave of energy crashed toward Yeo Unhwi.
Boom!
Crash!
“Dodge!”
Everyone cried out in alarm.
Yet even before the overwhelming force of the Falling Star Sword, Yeo Unhwi’s face remained perfectly composed.
‘This madman.’
Jomin found himself at a loss at the sight. But it hardly mattered to him.
He would soon see.
He would soon see Yeo Unhwi beaten to a pulp by his supreme technique.
He wanted to see if he would still wear that composure then.
But then,
Yeo Unhwi tilted his wooden sword at an angle and guided that tremendous force cleanly away—toward empty space.
Boom!
The overwhelming energy of the Falling Star Sword shattered one corner of the Training Grounds.
What?
Jomin’s face went blank in that instant.
How was that possible?
That technique couldn’t be deflected so easily. In fact, it shouldn’t be.
So how could—?
Then,
“Well then, shall we see what I can do?”
Whether Jomin was dazed or not, Yeo Unhwi grinned and raised his wooden sword.
For reasons he couldn’t explain, Jomin’s entire body went cold at that gesture alone.

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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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