The Ignored Granddaughter of a Murim Family - Chapter 260

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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 260
The arrow had been poisoned.
Fortunately, Namgung Ryu-cheong was in the water when the arrow struck him.
Most of the poison had been washed away by the current. I hadn’t even noticed it when I examined the wound, so it wasn’t a serious concern—had he rested properly, that is.
But the forced march to reach the Martial Arts Tournament on time became the problem. With fatigue accumulated, the wound kept reopening as he continued to move.
It was natural for energy to gather at the wound site for healing. So I passed over the excessive concentration of energy around the injury without concern.
Or rather, I was too distracted by what Yalyu had told me.
The faint traces of poison had already been eliminated by Namgung Ryu-cheong’s own body. All I could do was infuse natural energy to help restore his vitality.
After resting for about two days, Namgung Ryu-cheong was barely able to move.
He should have rested longer, but….
“It’s already started!”
Seo Ha-ryeong hurried ahead toward the waiting area for tournament participants.
Following behind her, I caught sight of the viewing stands beneath a crimson canopy.
The renowned Orthodox Sects and the leadership of the Murim Alliance had gathered there. And Wi Ji-baek occupied the foremost position.
He responded to those approaching him with a grave and dignified demeanor.
His likable appearance—that of a stern, principled martial artist—had certainly played a role in deceiving people so completely all this time.
‘That man is Yalyu’s biological father.’
I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t find a single resemblance between them.
“What are you doing? Hurry up!”
I nodded and followed Seo Ha-ryeong, only to stop abruptly as if nailed in place.
My gaze pierced through the layers of spectators and fixed on the Tournament Arena.
The main tournament consisted of one-on-one matches.
The rules were simple.
It ended when one admitted defeat, could no longer continue fighting, or stepped outside the arena.
I leaped lightly onto the wooden tower-like viewing stand.
Those already there cried out in startled alarm.
“Hey, what?! This is my spot, I can’t see because of you…!”
“Who… Gasp! Hush now, be quiet. That woman—she’s Baek Li, isn’t she?”
“What?”
Without properly hearing their words, I looked down at the arena.
The circular arena was easily twice as wide as the preliminary matches. Two figures were already locked in combat on that expanded stage.
I sensed a presence approaching from behind.
“Gasp, Namgung Prince!”
“And isn’t that Seo So-jeo beside him? Why are the main tournament participants here…?”
Namgung Ryu-cheong spoke in a low voice.
“Why the sudden question?”
He seemed to have no idea.
It was natural that he wouldn’t recognize her.
After all, she was wielding martial techniques entirely different from what he had originally learned.
Namgung Ryu-cheong, regarding me with suspicion, turned to ask Seo Ha-ryeong.
“Who is Wi Gu-jung’s opponent?”
Seo Ha-ryeong started in surprise, turning to look at Namgung Ryu-cheong.
“Your voice—why does it sound so hoarse? Completely shot.”
“Stop saying useless things.”
Seo Ha-ryeong spoke.
“Jeok-ya from the Chu Do-mun Sect. I heard his skills are nothing special.”
Namgung Ryu-cheong’s brow furrowed. His expression suggested he had never heard of this person.
I transmitted my voice to Namgung Ryu-cheong.
[It’s Yalyu.]
Namgung Ryu-cheong seemed confused at first, then his eyes widened in shock as understanding dawned.
“…!”
The first match of the main tournament.
It was Wi Gu-jung versus Yalyu.
* * *
Wi Gu-jung, dressed in a resplendent golden martial robe, drew forth a gleaming sword.
His opponent was a young man of unremarkable appearance in a black martial robe with scarcely any ornamentation. Even the sword at his waist looked like a cheap iron blade salvaged from who knows where.
Jeok-ya from the Chu Do-mun Sect.
“A sect of no consequence. Among those who advanced to the main tournament, he is estimated to be the weakest.”
“Surely you didn’t deliberately arrange for me to face such an opponent? Master, there’s no need for this. Do you doubt my abilities?”
“Of course not. I harbor no expectation of your defeat.”
“Then why…?”
“But a mere victory is insufficient. Do you still not understand? Why you are fighting first, why you were given such a matchup?”
To display overwhelming dominance.
It was the same approach as the preliminaries.
Mere championship was not enough to satisfy him.
Wi Gu-jung, recalling his conversation with his master, clicked his tongue slightly.
He was displeased. His master’s insistence on controlling every detail according to his own designs did not sit well with him.
But then again… it was not an unfavorable situation for him.
Meeting an easy opponent early on and conserving his strength as he advanced would not be a bad thing.
Yet as Wi Gu-jung gazed upon his opponent without particular interest, his brow twitched with displeasure.
His opponent’s demeanor was far too composed.
Normally, opponents would be visibly tense, and occasionally those lacking sense would regard crossing blades with him as an honor.
But in this opponent, no such signs could be found, no matter how carefully one looked.
Rather, he seemed almost bored.
It was absurd.
“Jeok-ya of the Chu Do-mun Sect, your confidence is remarkable?”
His opponent tilted his head curiously before responding.
“So is yours.”
“…What, what did you say?”
Wi Gu-jung doubted his ears at this unexpected reply.
Is this fool lacking in brains?
“Wi Ji-baek cherishes you most, does he not?”
Wi Gu-jung, whose face had been blank for a moment, cried out belatedly.
“Do not speak the Alliance Leader’s name so carelessly!”
“I don’t want to.”
“What? …This fellow is completely out of his mind.”
A vivid blade aura coalesced upon the precious sword in Wi Gu-jung’s hand.
Whoosh.
“I suppose I must educate your mind a little.”
A twisted smile formed at the corner of Wi Ji-baek’s lips.
“No one bears responsibility for what transpires in the Tournament Arena.”
This was the Tournament Arena where blades flew without restraint. None could predict what calamities might unfold.
Wounds were inevitable, and injuries ranging from severed fingers to lost limbs were commonplace. Many suffered grievous wounds that left them unable to move.
“Let me see how that serene face of yours contorts.”
Wi Gu-jung’s movements were swift yet concealed.
The footwork and body techniques of Mu Young Shin-tu were worthy of being called the pinnacle of the Martial World. Without such martial arts, how could he have committed so many crimes?
Wi Ji-baek had subtly modified Mu Young Shin-tu’s martial arts so that people could not recognize them, making them his own secret techniques.
Wi Gu-jung, Wi Ji-baek’s disciple, had also mastered these arts.
Though visible to the eye, one could not clearly sense his position. It felt as though Wi Gu-jung existed in multiple places upon the Tournament Arena.
He seemed to approach from the left, yet the attack came from the right.
An attack aimed at the right shoulder.
Wi Gu-jung spoke with an annoying smile.
“Curse that three-inch tongue of yours.”
The blade approached along an inescapable sword path as if to sever the arm, and it seemed as though it would cleave the opponent in two, but….
Clang!
It was pathetically blocked by the iron sword he had dismissed as mere steel.
“Hm?”
Sensing something amiss, Wi Gu-jung quickly shifted his footwork to escape.
But the opponent’s blade was faster.
Wi Gu-jung’s eyes widened.
In that brief moment, had he sensed the future? Wi Gu-jung’s face contorted in terror.
“Wait….”
And those were Wi Gu-jung’s final words.
Thud.
Wi Gu-jung collapsed upon the Tournament Arena.
A soft voice fell upon the corpse.
“More tedious than expected… hardly entertaining.”
* * *
Blood scattered across the Tournament Arena.
The form of Wi Gu-jung lying motionless seemed like a crude, tasteless jest.
“….”
“….”
A deathly silence enveloped the arena. Half a beat later, several figures scrambled frantically onto the Tournament Arena.
“Physician! Physician!”
The Physician in a sky-blue robe, who had been waiting near the Tournament Arena, rushed up onto the platform with urgency.
Then, as if a dam had burst, the crowd began to murmur and stir.
“What on earth happened…?”
“Could he be dead?”
“No, surely not. He’s the Wi Alliance Leader’s disciple.”
“Then why isn’t he getting up?”
The Physician’s eyes trembled as he checked Wi Gu-jung’s pulse.
The Physician slowly shook his head.
The High-ranking Monk in a yellow robe, who had ascended with the Physician as the referee, cried out with undisguised bewilderment.
“Jeok-ya of the Chu Do-mun sect, victory!”
The crowd, who had been staring at each other’s faces, erupted in cheers as if on cue.
“Waaaaaaaa!”
“The very first match is already burning hot!”
“Chu Do-mun? What kind of sect is this that produces such a skilled warrior?”
“I was certain the Wi Prince would win. I never expected the Chu Do-mun blade to be this sharp.”

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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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