The Ignored Granddaughter of a Murim Family - Chapter 265

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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 265
At that moment, the Buddhist Monk rushed forward urgently, crying out.
“Stop, stop! Cease this at once! This match is improper!”
Through my golden eyes, I could see a wave of energy flying from beneath the red canopy toward the Buddhist Monk. He was transmitting his voice through qi. The urgency was palpable even in that energy.
The Buddhist Monk continued speaking.
“Today… the young lady Baek Li… hasn’t even fought the semifinals? Moreover, this one won by default, so between the two of you… it’s unfair in terms of stamina!”
I spoke while adjusting my sword.
“I cannot withdraw. If we stop now… what would people think?”
These were people with keen ears. They could not have missed the murmuring reactions of the spectators.
The Buddhist Monk hesitated and looked around.
“That’s… no! Your argument itself is flawed. The finals were originally scheduled for tomorrow. No matter how much the participants agreed, you cannot change the promised date so hastily! Don’t speak as though I’m unreasonably refusing something obvious!”
That was when it happened.
“I permit it.”
The voice resonated through the Tournament Arena. And though it was very familiar to me, it was a voice that should not have been here.
A stately elderly man walked into the spectator seating beneath the red canopy. Everyone’s eyes were fixed upon him. His presence was that overwhelming. His gait was light, yet it carried the momentum of a tidal wave crashing ashore.
“Grand… Family Head!”
I had never expected my grandfather to arrive.
And beside my grandfather stood my father, whose presence was not overshadowed in the slightest—a figure who seemed to radiate light of his own.
‘So that’s where he went!’
It appeared he had gone to receive my grandfather.
My grandfather leisurely surveyed the Tournament Arena before speaking slowly.
“It seems I’ve arrived at just the right moment.”
My grandfather’s eyes met mine, and he smiled broadly.
That smile made my chest open wide with relief.
“The Baek Li Family Head!”
“What? The Baek Li Family Head? Is it really him? The Baek Li Family Head has come! What brings him here?”
People startled by my grandfather’s appearance erupted into commotion.
“Go fetch them at once! Something extraordinary is happening today! We can’t miss this!”
“Seeing him in person, he truly is remarkable. I’m glad I came to this martial arts tournament. To witness three of the ten greatest masters. He’s on a different level from the Wei Alliance Leader or Taego Jinperson.”
Amid the chaos and admiration, Taego Jinperson spoke calmly.
“Baek Li Family Head, it’s been a long time. I thought you’d be exhausted from restoring your family’s honor, but rumors truly cannot be trusted.”
“Well, that’s not something I should say, is it? I wondered if I’d collapse somewhere while chasing after those Demonic Cult bastards, but you look healthy.”
It was banter only masters of equal standing could exchange. Others dared not even think of interjecting.
My grandfather walked leisurely toward the seat beside Taego Jinperson, his hands clasped behind his back. The Alliance members hurried to prepare a place for him.
“You didn’t show your face at your son’s finals, yet you’ve come to watch your granddaughter’s. How unexpected.”
When I was young, my grandfather would frequently leave the family and travel about, which he enjoyed.
However, after the Demonic Cult’s attack on the Murim Alliance, he remained at the family residence. Even when he did leave, he never ventured beyond Hunan Province.
“Heh heh, when you grow old, everything in the world becomes tedious. There’s no amusement. But how could I miss such an event?”
“A fair point.”
The two of them stood facing each other side by side.
Grandfather stroked his beard and spoke toward the Buddhist Monk on the Martial Arts Arena.
“When the Murim Alliance first held this Martial Arts Tournament, the purpose was to share experiences and achieve harmony by testing our martial prowess against one another.”
“….”
The Buddhist Monk dared not even respond under the terrifying pressure.
“Since when have we wielded our swords to display ourselves before the masses? Since when did the tournament exist for the sake of rules? The rules exist for the tournament, not the other way around. Is that not so?”
* * *
No one could have anticipated it.
That an obscure sect called Chu Do-mun would advance to the finals like this.
“Who do you think will win?”
“Well, surely Baek Li, wouldn’t you say?”
“Didn’t you see her kill Wi Gu-jung with a single strike? Could Baek Li do the same?”
“Ah, but did you not see how Baek Li performed in the semifinals?”
Opinions were divided.
This was also the reason I had tried to prevent myself from fighting in today’s finals.
The Murim Alliance wished for my victory, but I could not be certain I would achieve it.
This was a Martial Arts Tournament held within the Orthodox Martial Arts Sects. The names of the Nine Great Sects and the Ten Great Families had always remained steadfast, and it was natural that this had long been their exclusive festival.
Since Wi Ji-baek, this was the first finals to feature someone not born into a prestigious family.
From Yalyu, I sensed no aura or qi whatsoever. Concealing one’s aura is a tedious task. Yet Yalyu, now as always, suppressed his presence. For him, it was a habit as natural as breathing.
Through my golden eyes, the blood-red qi that violently filled his dantian and meridians was palpable, yet to the naked eye, his robes remained unmarred by a speck of dust, merely fluttering gently in the breeze.
Yalyu’s gaze fixed on the space behind me as he transmitted his voice.
[You didn’t tell him, did you?]
[I’m regretting it.]
[You wouldn’t tell him even if you went back.]
I remained silent.
Yalyu smiled with his eyes and slowly shifted his stance.
[You couldn’t tell him because you were worried Namgung Ryu-cheong would stake his life on this match, weren’t you?]
If Namgung Ryu-cheong knew that Yalyu was a Demonic Cult Member and targeting the Cheonma Jibow, he would never accept this as a mere tournament match.
Since the Murim Alliance had become an untrustworthy organization, he would attempt to stop it himself rather than report it to them, and then it was clear he would engage in a life-or-death battle.
Yalyu was right. That was why I could not speak.
Yalyu had killed Wi Gu-jung without revealing his identity as a Demonic Cult Member. Even if Namgung Ryu-cheong investigated alone, he would find no evidence of Yalyu’s true nature.
Yalyu tilted his head with curiosity.
[So you didn’t really want to stop me?]
[That’s not it.]
[Or were you concerned about him?]
At my silence, Yalyu smiled faintly.
[Ah, or were you worried about me?]
I spoke calmly.
[All of that is wrong.]
Observing Yalyu’s puzzled expression, I transmitted my voice.
[Because I can stop you.]
A brief silence stretched on.
“Hahaha!”
Yalyu burst into hearty laughter.
I waited expressionlessly for him to stop.
[My apologies.]
Yalyu apologized, his laughter still lingering in his voice.
I spoke calmly.
[Wi Ji-baek has fallen from power.]
[Ah, I heard.]
His response was so simple it left me wondering if that was truly all—devoid of any emotion whatsoever.
No anger, no hatred. It was as if he’d merely acknowledged the existence of a stone. The bitterness of it struck me even as I understood.
What had I expected? Knowing the answer made it all the more bitter.
“….”
Yalyu rolled his eyes for a moment before speaking.
[Right, what did I say? The world is overflowing with garbage.]
I did not answer, instead pointing my blade steadily toward the solid wall before me.
We had already exchanged our greetings. The match had begun.
The smile gradually faded from Yalyu’s face.
I had spent long years with Yalyu since childhood, watched him train countless times, and crossed blades with him on many occasions.
Yet all of that had only ever benefited Yalyu.
Yalyu was familiar with my swordplay, but I knew his only from that single moment when his blade had sought my throat.
Zing—
Light gathered upon the blade’s edge as if mist were being absorbed into it.
Whoooosh!
I surged forward like a torrent, driving toward Yalyu. The energy coalesced upon the blade was so formidable that the sword felt heavy in my grip.
In that fleeting instant, I crossed into his attack range.
The luminous blade descended toward his form. Yalyu showed no panic, immediately targeting my ribs.
I kicked off from the empty air, launching myself high into the air. Spinning my body, I continued the motion without pause, sweeping my blade in an arc.
Clang!
The hazy light traced the path the blade had traveled. His sword halted mere finger-widths before my neck.
Yalyu’s stern expression was illuminated by eyes that gleamed blood-red.
In that brief moment, he had blocked the direction of my blade. Yalyu’s sword was now shrouded in a blood-crimson radiance.
The shockwave from the collision swept across the arena.
Tap.
With a light sound, I landed and immediately pressed forward, channeling force into the hands gripping our blades without retreating.
White sword energy and blood-crimson sword energy wavered against each other as if they would consume one another.
On the night my advancement to the semifinals was confirmed, a visitor arrived.
Beneath the bright moonlight that evoked memories of the day he had fallen long ago, he handed me something he had brought.
“What is this?”
“It will be of help to you.”
It was a thinly bound manuscript, clearly created not long ago.
As I read through the tome right there, my expression shifted to one of astonishment.
It contained Yalyu’s martial techniques.
He had always provided aid when I needed it most. Even if he was no longer the Jeggal Hwa-mu I once knew.

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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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