Third-rate Martial Family Becomes the Best Under Heaven - Chapter 225

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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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Third-rate Martial Arts Family, Greatest Under Heaven – Episode 225
The entire hall fell silent. The shock of what had just transpired was simply too overwhelming.
The Sect Leader of the Hyeol Sa-ryeon, one of the Three Great Demon Sects under heaven, defeated in a single move by that Gidung Seobang?
A truth so stunning that even witnessing it with one’s own eyes felt unreal.
The gamblers were the first to regain their senses.
“Yes! Yes!”
“I knew it! I believed in him!”
“Hahahaha! Fifty times! The payout is fifty times!”
“I’m rich now! Hahahaha!”
Wagering on the outcome was an inseparable part of any martial tournament.
One might question how gambling could exist at such a sacred gathering as the Yongbong Assembly, but since participants engaged in it secretly with marked cards anyway, a legendary master from generations past had once declared it mere entertainment—and from that point forward, the organizers themselves began overseeing the betting.
In essence, wagering had become the only form of gambling sanctioned by the Baek Do martial world.
‘They’ve gone mad with joy. Well, it’s practically free money for them.’
Their fortunes had multiplied fifty-fold in a single day.
Who in this world could maintain composure in such circumstances?
Truthfully, no one.
Lakbul was living proof of this.
Seated in the reserved viewing section at the best vantage point, Lakbul grinned from ear to ear, his lips moving as he spoke to the person beside him.
‘Fifty times! All these years of cultivation finally bear fruit… It seems someone placed quite a substantial wager.’
Yet there were those who sensed something amiss.
“The payout for Gaecheon Geomryong was only fifty times?”
“That makes no sense. Based on the rumors circulating, it should have been at least a hundred times.”
“Indeed. Did someone place an enormous bet?”
They had guessed correctly. I sent a transmission to the person I was observing.
-Chu Dal, how much?
-Ehehehehe! What do you think? Fifty times! It hit!
Regardless of how long I’d endured this moment, I’d listened to people call me Gidung Seobang for over a month straight.
After tolerating such humiliation, I deserved a reward befitting my suffering!
‘I wagered every coin I had, even borrowed some… Goodness. I could build several estates with this.’
I wasn’t alone. Baek Heon-so, Jegal Seol-ha, and all the others who truly understood martial prowess—they all wore smiles of satisfaction.
Even Dang-gun, who usually avoided gambling, was grinning like Lakbul.
Mischief seized me, and I sent a transmission.
-You said you wouldn’t bet. How much did you wager?
-Ahem. When there’s money to be made, as the Family Head, I cannot pass up an opportunity to increase my family’s wealth.
As I chuckled, the Sect Leader who had lost consciousness finally came to.
“What… what happened?”
“What happened? Isn’t it obvious?”
Upon hearing the response, the Sect Leader finally noticed me standing unharmed, and bewilderment washed across his face.
Him, collapsed and regaining consciousness. Me, standing perfectly fine.
Unless one was a fool, the situation was unmistakable.
“Don’t cry sorcery. That’s far too predictable.”
Seeing his expression shift, it seemed he truly intended to use that excuse to save face.
Baek Do, a late-stage master, had defeated the successor of the heterodox sect—did he really think a sorcery excuse would hold water?
I’d even given him a heavenly-grade letter of introduction to spread word of his victory, yet he refused to publicize it, making things troublesome.
They say he’s not entirely foolish, but given the circumstances, his grasp on reality seems to have slipped.
‘Well, letting him cry sorcery and knocking him out once more would make the picture prettier, but….’
Chu Dal seemed to share the same thought, as I heard his transmission.
-Brother. If we let that bastard make his excuses and then stomp on him once more for good measure, wouldn’t the gain in reputation be even greater?
-No.
-Why not?
That bastard is a puppet. The spectators are still ecstatic that I knocked out the Hyeol Sa-ryeon Sect Leader in a single second.
But if he were the true Sect Leader—the successor of Cheonmu-sip-jon—it couldn’t have been this easy.
-A puppet has his uses in his own way. Since he seems useful, let’s avoid accumulating excessive ill will.
-…? Isn’t it already too late?
-It’s still manageable. Probably?
Hmm. Now that I think about it, it might not be manageable.
I should lay groundwork in advance.
-Sect Leader. In this Dragon-Phoenix Contest, there are at least five late-stage masters who could target you as a stepping stone. Did you know?
“That… that can’t be…. According to Master’s words….”
-Even if you’re flustered, don’t answer a transmission with your voice.
Judging by his demeanor, it’s clear he didn’t know.
It seems he only heard from the Hyeol Sa-ryeon Sect Leader that someone of his caliber could become a First Dragon, and came to Mu-han.
‘So my speculation was correct.’
-Listen, I’ve postponed your death once. If you understand my meaning, come to my quarters tonight.
He visited Mu-han and acted according to the Hyeol Sa-ryeon Sect Leader’s instructions, only to receive judgment from the Taeguk Sword Master.
The martial prowess of the Baek Do late-stage masters—far different from expectations.
He’s currently lost in panic, but after he thinks it through calmly, that bastard will have realized his position.
“Hobuk Cheon-geom, Great Master.”
Hearing my words, the Referee finally declared the outcome.
“The victor is Baek Yang-hwi of the Gaecheon Baek Family!”
“Waaaaaaa!”
“Gaecheon Geomryong! Gaecheon Geomryong!”
“Hahaha! Much obliged! Fifty times over!”
“A deity has descended upon Mu-han!”
Surrounded by cheers and fervor, I descended from the martial stage.
To secure advancement to the second round proper, I need one more victory, but I plan to wait and observe a bit longer before stepping forward.

* * *
All the finalists declared their specialties and accepted challengers, each showcasing their own strengths.
Take Adu, for example. His specialty was refreshingly straightforward.
“Anyone who can beat me in an arm-wrestling match, raise your hand!”
Adu had garnered nearly as much acclaim as the Shaman’s Hyeon Geom as the tournament’s most talked-about contestant.
As a result, there were almost no challengers for nearly half an hour, but eventually a massive figure stepped forward.
“You won’t use inner qi?”
“That’s right!”
“Then I’ll give it a try.”
The challenger was a towering figure whose sheer size rivaled even Adu’s impressive frame.
Yet the match ended remarkably quickly.
“Adu of Shaolin, victorious!”
“He won!”
The challenger was a disciple of a celestial-ranked martial school renowned for external cultivation.
The overwhelming difference in raw strength—subduing such a person in mere seconds.
The spectators couldn’t help but be entertained.
“Truly Shaolin’s greatest treasure!”
“It’s only natural. Shaolin has always been supreme in external cultivation techniques throughout history.”
Meanwhile, Hyeon Geom of the Shaman sect, counted alongside Adu as a championship favorite.
His match proved excruciatingly tedious.
“Those who believe they can defeat Bin-do through philosophical discourse on the blade, please step forward.”
Those who thought they could hold their own in theoretical swordplay came forward, and Hyeon Geom only secured victory after nearly half an hour had passed.
‘The Shaman’s senior members clearly regret this choice.’
The Taeguk Sword Master maintained an expressionless face, but the elders beneath him showed their disappointment.
They’d been so confident in Hyeon Geom’s victory that they apparently hadn’t even asked about the event format.
I’d personally started things off with flair, and Adu, my most contrasting competitor, had displayed raw, primal excitement.
But Hyeon Geom had chosen philosophical discourse—a spectacle devoid of visual appeal—making the comparison inevitable.
‘If he’d impressed the crowd through philosophical discourse, that would’ve been a skill in itself.’
By its very nature, philosophical discourse couldn’t captivate spectators.
Most of them either hadn’t learned martial arts or possessed only rudimentary knowledge—how could sitting around arguing be entertaining?
Philosophical discourse only looked impressive in the gossip pamphlets circulating through the martial world; in reality, it could never be so.
‘And his opponent didn’t back down either, struggling and making excuses to avoid defeat.’
Unlike Hyeon Geom, Namgung Cheon-yeong displayed himself openly.
“Let those who stand equal to this Soga-joonim in martial prowess step forward.”
With his sword naturally unsheathing and dancing through the air, displaying the divine realm of drawing and wielding without contact—who would dare challenge that?
In the end, Namgung Cheon-yeong became the first finalist to claim victory without facing any challengers.
The way he looked over after being declared victorious suggested he was clearly aware of me.
‘The most entertaining event is… Nang Hon.’
An assassin estimated to be at least at Adu’s previous level of mastery.
This was the very person who had made Yang Hwi abandon the idea of competing in the Dragon-Phoenix Clash in my previous life.
“Anyone confident they surpass me in the number of grappling techniques mastered, please step forward.”
Judging by his level, that fellow was undoubtedly a disciple of some mysterious sect.
Yet the disciplines he presented were distinctly characteristic of an assassin.
Nang Hon demonstrated silver concealment technique, earth evasion technique, transformation technique, and eleven other grappling moves before being declared the victor.
Despite mastering all those grappling techniques, his core martial arts were at the late stage of escape mastery level.
‘This fellow is entertaining in many ways.’
At that point, I casually accepted a challenge and secured my second victory without difficulty.
“Baek Yang-hwi of the Gaecheon Baek Family, advancement to the second preliminary round is confirmed.”
‘So Seo and his companions have all secured their advancement. There were no major upsets.’
The first preliminary round, which took a full half year to commence when including the preliminary competition with betting slips, had finally begun.
For something that took so long, the results seemed somewhat anticlimactic and predictable.
‘What matters is what comes next. I wonder how it will unfold.’
Well, I’ve cast the bait. Now let’s see what fish bite.

* * *
The first and second preliminary rounds were separated by a seven-day interval.
The Shaman claimed it was consideration for those injured in the first round, but in truth, it was merely building anticipation.
Rumors need time to spread like wildfire and ignite.
Without question, the hottest topic was the eldest son of the Gaecheon Baek Family.
…Though the nature of the situation differed greatly from ordinary circumstances.
“Hahahaha! Fifty times! Fifty times!”
“Hmph. Did you really wager on it?”
“A man doesn’t speak with two mouths! What did you say back then? You asked me to give you the money if I was going to waste it, didn’t you?”
“I concede. You had foresight. I didn’t know. Who would have thought the Hyeol Sa-ryeon Sect Leader was such a hothead.”
The Hyeol Sa-ryeon Sect Leader, who had been counted among the leading favorites for the championship regardless of his origins, suffered the humiliation of being defeated in a single instant by a disciple of a minor martial family.
Therefore, it would have been natural for rumors to spread like, ‘The Gaecheon Geomryong, whom everyone thought was just a pillar of support, turned out to be such a powerhouse that he defeated the Hyeol Sa-ryeon Sect Leader in a single instant!’
However.
“I wondered why the Hyeol Sa-ryeon sent their Sect Leader.”
“Word came from Gui Province that he was only appointed Sect Leader a few months ago. They wanted to see Baek Do’s level.”
Given the circumstances, it would have been natural for the disciple of a minor martial family to gain considerable renown precisely because of the difference in origins between the heterodox sect and Baek Do.
Yet the direction of the rumors boiled down to: the Hyeol Sa-ryeon Sect Leader turned out to be a weakling.
“Brother! Aren’t you indignant about this!”
Baek Heon-so fumed before me as I calmly drank my wine.
“About what?”
“No matter how much of a figurehead he was, defeating the Sect Leader in a single instant is a tremendous feat! So you should be gaining enormous renown! Yet the rumors spreading are like this!”
“Seo.”
“Yes! You must feel wronged too, brother!”
“Wronged? On the contrary, this is favorable.”
“Favorable?”
“Yes. Thanks to it, the odds are still high.”
“Huh?”
The odds that had been sixty-to-one had dropped considerably, but they still hovered around ten-to-one.
If not for the rumor about me defeating the Sect Leader, the numbers would have been astronomical rather than merely tenfold.
“Besides, it’s something I anticipated.”
“You knew such rumors would spread, sir?”
“To be precise, I thought it would be one of two possibilities.”
Either they would elevate Gaecheon Geomryong as a clear favorite to win, being a master strong enough to defeat the Sect Leader.
Or they would diminish the Sect Leader’s standing.
‘I wondered which direction the rumors would go. Turns out it was the diminishment route.’
“The rumors circulating now are the result of manipulation by the Shaman or other prestigious sects.”
“Manipulation? But why…?”
“They judged it better to break my momentum immediately rather than grant my disciple tremendous renown and risk losing.”
In other words, they deemed it more important to check the Baek Family immediately than to elevate my disciple’s reputation.
Thanks to that, the odds will remain favorable for a while.
“Once I become the First Dragon, all these baseless rumors will vanish anyway. So don’t worry about it.”
“That’s true. You’ll definitely become the First Dragon, brother!”
Baek Heon-so’s eyes sparkled with admiration and trust.
Watching him, I reached out to pat his head… but this kid had grown too much.
I settled for a light tap on his shoulder instead and opened my mouth.
“Right. Now go downstairs and bring our guest up.”
“A guest?”
“Yeah. You’ll see when you get there.”
Moments later, Baek Heon-so returned with someone.
“Brother. Is the guest you mentioned the Sect Leader?”
“You brought him well.”
The Sect Leader’s face bore complex emotions that were difficult to express in words.
“Seeing you came, you must have figured it out roughly. Then shall I accept your thanks?”
“…Thanks? This Sect Leader came to hear the reason behind your words.”
Did he still not understand, or did he simply wish to pretend ignorance?
“You were sent as a scapegoat to build justification. I saved you from that, so you should offer your thanks, shouldn’t you?”
I finished speaking and observed the Sect Leader’s expression shift.
So this bastard had figured it out but wanted to deny it?
A smirk escaped my lips.
“Come now, even if you’re a figurehead, you’re still the Sect Leader of the Hyeol Sa-ryeon. Let me hear what thanks a Sect Leader offers.”

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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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