Return of the Sword Emperor - 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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Chapter 21: The Martial Tournament (2)

From early morning, countless people streamed toward Jeonggang Mountain.
From all four directions, every path leading to the Nok Rim Headquarters was filled with bandits who had come from across Jungwon, and even people with no connection to Nok Rim climbed in small groups, two or three at a time.
Under normal circumstances, it would be unthinkable for outsiders to approach, but today was an exception.
The Martial Tournament to determine the successor of Nok Rim Tu Wang had transformed into a festival not just for Nok Rim, but for the martial artists of the surrounding regions.

“Ugh, this feels so strange.”

Yu Seollan, wearing the face mask, kept touching the back of her neck and muttering to herself.

“You haven’t adjusted yet. It should feel fine after a little time. The senior procured a quite excellent mask for you.”

Dokgo Jin, also wearing the face mask and transformed into an entirely different visage, spoke with a smile.

“Ha! This is clearly abnormal. I never thought I’d hear such words from a mere stripling who’s been in the Milkgeom Dan for only a few months, of all people.”

Yu Seollan continued to grumble but made no real objection or complaint. She had long since felt in her bones that Dokgo Jin was an extraordinary human being.

“In any case, Nok Rim’s power is more impressive than I imagined. I’ve heard that after Nok Rim Tu Wang became the leader, they underwent tremendous growth, but this is truly beyond my expectations.”

Yu Seollan could not help but marvel at the endless procession of people.

“These are not mere bandits to be dismissed. There are quite a few skilled masters among them.”
“True. If there are this many already, I can’t imagine how many masters must be gathered at the headquarters.”

Yu Seollan’s expression shifted constantly as she surveyed her surroundings while carefully suppressing her own presence.
After traveling for another half day, the two finally arrived at the heart of Nok Rim—the Jeonggang Mountain Headquarters.
The Nok Rim Headquarters, surrounded by five peaks called the Five Peak Watchtowers like a folding screen and with an enormous basin near the summit, was positioned in a location of natural strategic advantage.

“For the first time, I found myself envying these bandits.”

Yu Seollan was half-mesmerized by the overwhelmingly vast landscape.

“I agree. It’s a shame the others couldn’t come.”
“It can’t be helped. Given their condition.”

Yu Seollan shrugged her shoulders.
She seemed not so much regretful as eager to boast about the landscape before her to her companions once she returned.
The grand training ground where the Martial Tournament was held was equally impressive in scale.
Nok Rim’s grand training ground resembled a military barracks—the width left and right appeared to exceed thirty zhang, and the length seemed to be at least fifty zhang.
A square martial platform had been erected in the center of the training ground, and spectators crowded around it.

“Damn it, we’re too late. How am I supposed to see anything properly from here?”

Yu Seollan, forced to find a seat far removed from the martial platform due to the sheer crush of people, voiced her disappointment.

“Still, with the platform raised, it should be possible to observe the Pimoo without obstruction.”
“There’s a world of difference between watching up close and watching from this distance. I can’t properly sense the fighters’ instantaneous movements or subtle shifts.”

Yu Seollan continued to express her regret.
This was no ordinary Martial Tournament—it was, in name, the contest to choose the successor of Nok Rim Tu Wang.
It went without saying that the participants possessed exceptional skill, and to witness such masters in combat held value in itself.
Then it happened.
From one corner of the training ground, which had been as chaotic as a marketplace, silence began to spread.
The silence soon permeated the entire training ground, and Yu Seollan and Dokgo Jin turned their heads toward the direction from which it originated.
A group of people mounted the platform that had been set up at one end of the training ground. At their center stood Nok Rim Tu Wang, the leader of Nok Rim.

“So that’s Nok Rim Tu Wang.”

Yu Seollan murmured without thinking, and Dokgo Jin jabbed her arm sharply.

“Speak carelessly and you’ll bring ruin down on us.”

At his hushed tone, Yu Seollan realized her slip and quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. To speak of Nok Rim Tu Wang—the god of these bandit-infested lands—so thoughtlessly was as good as begging for death.
As Yu Seollan glanced nervously around, Dokgo Jin watched Nok Rim Tu Wang with eyes gone still and cold.
The distance was too great to observe him clearly, yet his presence radiated outward unmistakably.

Just then, Nok Rim Tu Wang’s gaze—cast over his men as he encouraged them for the tournament—turned toward Dokgo Jin.
It wasn’t a deliberate focus on him, yet those eyes, gleaming with a chill edge, seemed distinctly aware of his stare.
But Nok Rim Tu Wang withdrew his attention just as quickly and announced the start of the Martial Tournament.

“The Blood Wind has already swept through Heukgol Chae. Not by our design, but still.”
“Those dogs of Madoryeon got what they deserved. It pleases me.”

“True enough. As for those sent by Jeongmu Maeng, we should investigate them more carefully. A small force achieving such results—they are no common men.”
“Do so.”
“And Baek An-gwi has arrived here.”

“Yes.”
“Surely one of such caliber does not mean to meddle in Nok Rim’s affairs.”

“Excellent.”

“No. Some rats have crept in covertly. But they are insignificant.”
“Such rabble mean nothing to us. When might we expect those we truly seek to arrive?”

“Even if it takes ten days at most, I believe we can turn Jeonggang Mountain into an inferno of retribution.”
“Is that so? Then…….”

Jeok Yeom Beopwang’s face broke into a satisfied smile at Cho Soo’s response, and he turned his gaze to the left.

“It is time to cast the bait once more.”

A blade with a handle red as blood and a steel gleaming white as snow.
The Yo-Geom Saryeong, which they had briefly released into the world before secretly reclaiming, radiated its presence with full force.

* * *

At opposite ends of the martial arena, two fighters locked eyes while breathing heavily.
Already several rounds had passed since the two began their contest.
True to a championship finals deciding the ultimate victor of the Martial Tournament, their clash was fierce and unyielding, neither clearly superior to the other.

“Impressive. Honestly, I didn’t expect them to be at this level.”

Admiration escaped Yu Seollan’s lips as she watched the two fighters, whose hands were slick with sweat.

“I sensed something when Gong Ja-gyeol went down, but I never imagined he was hiding strength to that degree.”
“He’s certainly formidable.”

Dokgo Jin nodded readily and turned his gaze toward Gong Ja-gyeol, who stood at the edge of the training ground with a dazed expression fixed on the arena.

‘I’m not sure whether he took the Elixir I gave him, but it seems he understood what I was getting at.’

To be precise, Gong Ja-gyeol’s skill fell short compared to Jeon Woong.
Though he would eventually transform into a master of incomparable excellence as time passed, at this point Jeon Woong held a clear advantage.
Yet in the semifinals against Jeon Woong, Gong Ja-gyeol’s performance had seemed clumsy and unpolished somehow. Some observers wondered how he had even made it that far.

‘Had he not trusted my words, he would not have fallen so helplessly.’

Reading from the conflict visible in Gong Ja-gyeol’s expression, Dokgo Jin felt a smile play at his lips.

“Who do you think will win?”

Yu Seollan nudged Dokgo Jin’s side and asked.

“Jo Sa-eung will emerge victorious.”

Dokgo Jin’s smile faded quickly as he answered without a moment’s hesitation.

“The world assumes Jo Sa-eung is stronger than Jeon Woong, and my gut agrees, but aren’t you being overconfident? Honestly, it’s been neck and neck so far.”
“That’s merely how it appears.”
“What do you mean?”
“Unlike Jeon Woong, who has given his all from start to finish, Jo Sa-eung still has reserves left.”
“What? You’re saying he hasn’t been fighting at full strength?”

Yu Seollan’s expression turned skeptical.

“Yes, I’m certain he’s holding back about thirty percent of his power. Now that the time for a decisive blow approaches, I believe he will reveal that difference.”

Before Dokgo Jin had even finished speaking, Jeon Woong steadied his breath and lifted his heavy blade horizontally.
The Gisuseok stance, executed according to the orthodox principles taught by Nok Rim Tu Wang.
Though the posture was brief and spare, the inner force concentrated at the blade’s tip pressed down upon the very air itself.
Dust from the floor swirled slowly outward from Jeon Woong as its center, muddying the spectators’ vision.
Meanwhile, Jo Sa-eung stood with his shoulder angled slightly, his blade’s tip moving with casual flicks.
Though he held back his strength, the glint in his eyes—patient as a viper waiting for its opening—was lethally sharp.

“Ha!”

As Jeon Woong stepped forward with a powerful shout, the blue stones laid across the martial stage compressed beneath his feet, leaving deep imprints.
His sword crossed the distance in a single breath and fell directly toward Jo Sa-eung.
A stroke devoid of any flourish.
Yet because of its simplicity, it was all the more dangerous.
Jo Sa-eung, aware that he would lose in a direct collision—both in raw force and inner strength—immediately twisted his body away.
Where the blade passed, countless blue stones shattered into fragments that scattered in all directions.

“Still so crude.”

Jo Sa-eung muttered with a sneer, moving his sword with fluid grace.
It was the same form that Jeon Woong had deployed, yet the variations and trajectories were subtly different.
Where the blade should have aimed at the center, it abruptly changed direction mid-strike and pierced toward the ribs instead.
Jeon Woong’s thick brows twitched.
He hastily retrieved his sword to block the attack, but his defense was incomplete.
The tip of Jo Sa-eung’s blade cut through his sleeve and left a deep gash on his forearm.
Jo Sa-eung did not miss Jeon Woong’s flinch.
His twisted blade shifted twice, then thrice in rapid succession.
An erratic sword pattern that alternated between thrusts and cuts poured forth like a tempest, leaving countless wounds large and small across Jeon Woong’s body.
Blood streamed from Jeon Woong’s entire frame, and in the blink of an eye he was drenched in crimson, yet he did not retreat.
He was not as swift as Jo Sa-eung, and he lacked the ornate Byeoncho technique, but he possessed an unshakeable composure that never wavered.
Resisting the urge to be swayed by his opponent’s elaborate movements, he guided his sword along only the simplest trajectory.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Violent collisions rang out.
As blade met blade, sparks erupted in all directions.
Jeon Woong’s steadfast determination had finally found its mark.
No matter how many times Jo Sa-eung twisted and changed his blade’s path, ultimately it could not evade Jeon Woong’s sword.
A direct collision infused with inner strength.
With each accumulated impact, Jo Sa-eung’s wrist began to tremble slightly.

‘I can’t continue like this. Direct contact is dangerous.’

Jo Sa-eung’s body blurred suddenly.
Leaving afterimages, he drove toward the flank, targeting Jeon Woong’s blind spot.
In that instant, as though he had been waiting, Jeon Woong’s counterattack came screaming in.
Jo Sa-eung’s eyes widened.
His expression showed that he had realized his opponent had deliberately lured him.

“Too late.”

Jeon Woong drove his sword downward at terrible speed, a satisfied smile on his face.
The pressure felt like a massive mountain crashing down upon him.
In the moment when everyone predicted Jeon Woong’s victory, the eyes of Nok Rim Tu Wang, who had been watching the match with an expressionless face, flickered with interest for the first time.

“It’s over.”

A quiet murmur.
Just as most of the Nok Rim leaders beside him nodded, anticipating Jeon Woong’s triumph, Jo Sa-eung twisted his lips into a smile.

“As expected, so simple.”

Jo Sa-eung’s blade bent strangely in mid-air.
Rather than meeting the attack head-on, he twisted and deflected the side of his opponent’s blade.
Jeon Woong’s face contorted in shock at a movement that had no place in their original forms.
Because they had trained together under Nok Rim Tu Wang as their master, they shared the same techniques, the same rhythm, the same Geomri.
Yet as time passed, the paths they had taken diverged considerably, and Jeon Woong had not anticipated this difference.
Panic caused Jeon Woong to expose an opening, and Jo Sa-eung’s blade seized that fleeting moment, driving deep beneath his throat.

“Agh!”

Sighs erupted from all sides.
No one watching the tournament doubted that Jeon Woong was dead.
Jo Sa-eung’s counterattack had been that swift and merciless.
Yet the tragedy they had anticipated never came to pass.
Nok Rim Tu Wang had somehow wedged himself between the two fighters and seized Jo Sa-eung’s wrist.

“That’s enough. The match is over.”

Jo Sa-eung’s eyes trembled violently—he had never expected Nok Rim Tu Wang to intervene.

“That was an excellent technique.”

At the praise from Nok Rim Tu Wang, Jo Sa-eung slowly withdrew his blade—it had hung mere inches from Jeon Woong’s throat. He then turned and bowed deeply to his master.

“Thank you, Master.”

He offered a respectful bow to Jeon Woong as well, who stood with his sword hanging limp at his side.

“That was a fine match, brother.”
“Congratulations…to you.”

Jeon Woong forced a smile while drowning in a shame that would never wash away.

‘Damn it. That was my chance to finish him.’

Jo Sa-eung bitterly regretted losing this perfect opportunity to eliminate his greatest rival.
But the regret was fleeting.
A roar of celebration swept across the training ground and shook Jeonggang Mountain itself.
Jo Sa-eung raised both arms to acknowledge the cheers, his face radiant with the smile that only victory could bring.

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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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