I Kidnapped the Youngest Daughter of the Sichuan Tang Clan

Chapter 162



What is it that makes a warrior truly a warrior?

Is one a warrior simply by learning martial arts? Is it someone who artificially cultivates internal energy? Or does one become a warrior only by surpassing human limits and materializing qi?

The standards for this are vague, and every person would likely have a different answer.

It’s not a question with a single correct answer, so it’s difficult to say anyone is definitively right or wrong.

Yet, there is an answer that most martial artists would likely agree upon. Something like…

A warrior is someone who holds confidence in their own martial prowess.

On this, most would nod in agreement.

Understandably so, as this is what changes most drastically before and after one begins learning martial arts.

There’s a reason why renowned orthodox sects constantly warn their rising talents to remain humble.

Because, more often than not, those overflowing with sky-piercing confidence end up causing trouble. “In that sense, I’d say this wasn’t my fault. It’s the monks who broke down on their own. Sometimes, one must know how to be humbled.”

“So what you’re saying is, it wasn’t your fault that you crushed them before they could even attempt a single technique while exuding murderous intent. Rather, it’s their fault for losing heart over something so trivial?”

“Exactly! They asked me to go all out, and I did just that. You’ll never see another top expert like me so generously sharing their skills with juniors they just met.”

“Hmph. I recall telling you to go easy at the start. So what you’re implying is that these Shaolin monks you met for the first time today are more important than your fiancée?”

“Wha—…”

Whether in the previous life or now, Tang Sowol is far too skilled at paralyzing me without even using pressure points.

Startled into silence and unable to explain myself, I stood awkwardly while Tang Sowol offered a softened smile.

“I’m joking, so don’t look so distressed. But could you perhaps be a bit more honest?”

“They were more skilled than expected for their level, so I got a little carried away.”

“And?”

“As the rumors of me defeating the Bloodflame Fist Demon spread, they started looking at me with reverence. I felt like showing them something.”

That’s right.

It’s been a while since I defeated the Bloodflame Fist Demon, and I didn’t hide it. I even reported it to the Murim Alliance to raise awareness of the Demonic Cult threat.

By now, it wouldn’t be strange for the rumors to have reached Henan Province.

Shaolin’s post-peak trainees—no, most orthodox sect trainees—are forbidden from traveling the martial world until they’re older and more skilled.

It’s to prevent them from sullying their sect’s name or dying pointlessly due to lack of strength.

Most of the monks gathered here have likely never stepped outside Songshan Mountain.

And yet, suddenly the protagonist of all those wild rumors appeared before their eyes.

If it had been me, I would’ve leapt at the chance too, wanting to know whether the stories were true, and just how powerful he was.

At least they asked politely, saying things like, “I understand there is a gap in skill, but I would like to personally witness your sword.”

Had they been unorthodox sect bastards, they would’ve started with “I heard you’re tough—prove it.”

“Well, I didn’t think they’d be this shaken, honestly.”

“I wouldn’t know firsthand since you’ve never directed your killing intent at me, but… haven’t you grown more intense lately, Brother Cheon?”

“I haven’t.”

When I defeated the Black Sky Sword Lord, it brought closure to a long period of mourning within me.

With that, the festering wounds stopped transforming into murderous intent.

The inner demon within me remains the same. My killing aura hasn’t increased, nor has it lessened.

But I can guess why others, like Tang Sowol, are sensing something different.

“I’ve simply gotten better at handling it.”

“Pardon?”

“There are things you can see more clearly only by stepping back.”

“…???”

Tang Sowol tilted her head, clearly not understanding.

Clinging tightly to something is fine, but you can only see the full picture by letting go.

It wouldn’t be hard to explain this to her, but I hesitate. My insights may influence her path, which differs from mine.

While we both know each other’s martial arts well, our directions are fundamentally different.

More importantly, Tang Sowol possesses the potential to reach the Flowering Stage through her own efforts. Unlike me, who is still feeling out that realm, I worry that I might interfere.

She may not realize it herself, but she’s now standing right at the edge of Peak Stage.

Perhaps unintentionally, being entangled in various matters with me until now has steadily fed her growth.

Those experiences have become nutrients for her.

So I simply shrugged and made a lighthearted remark.

“There are things that only someone who has reached Sub-Perfection would understand.”

“Oh, so now that you’ve flattened the Shaolin monks, you’re trying to push me into inner demon deviation?!”

Tang Sowol smacked my shoulder repeatedly, her grin a mix of disbelief and defiance.

Then the noisy training ground suddenly fell quiet.

Footsteps approached—three sets.

Two of the presences were unfamiliar, but one was very familiar.

Light steps. A slightly excited spring in the stride. And occasional stumbles, as if trying to act nonchalant while sneakily gauging the situation.

Seo Mun-Hwarin, who had spied on Seol Lihyang and me the night before, had arrived at the training ground. She was accompanied by two large-shaven monks.

“Ahem. I see you arrived early. Hyang-i had something to take care of and will be here shortly.”

“Something to take care of?”

“You know, that place… the Haewuso.”

“Ah.”

So it really was that kind of business.

I nodded and turned to the two large monks standing beside her with serene smiles.

“Could it be that you two are…?”

“Nice to meet you. Are you the famed Blood Flame Sword Demon, by chance?”

“You may have heard from the Abbot, but we are humbly called Diamond Warriors. I am Geum Myeong, and this is my senior brother, Gak Myeong.”

They joined palms in greeting.

I hadn’t expected two Diamond Warriors to come.

“You came to spar with Senior Seo? But both of you?”

To my question, Geum Myeong, whose gentle tone contrasted his massive build, shook his head.

“No. I alone will receive instruction from the head of the Seomun Clan. Senior Brother Gak Myeong simply accompanied me.”

“I heard three spectators were allowed, so I came along shamelessly.”

Gak Myeong, the burly monk, spoke a little sheepishly.

Despite his hulking body and rough features, his expression and eyes revealed a gentle sincerity.

“There’s no issue. We agreed on three spectators per side without other conditions… and I’m one of them.”

The agreement between Seo Mun-Hwarin and Abbot Jeonghyeon was simple:

Since he couldn’t personally step in, he would send one Diamond Warrior as her sparring partner.

The match would be private, its results not shared, and each side could bring three spectators.

That was all.

As someone at Sub-Perfection, I had more than enough qualification to observe. And so did Gak Myeong.

Grateful for the sentiment, Gak Myeong nodded at me.

“Thank you for the consideration. I’ll go fetch the other two—could you wait a moment?”

“We’re waiting on someone ourselves, so that works perfectly.”

With that, Geum Myeong and Gak Myeong began calming the shaken post-peak monks still reeling from the earlier sparring.

They shouted at those caught in light inner demon deviation with Buddhist qi, and offered gentle encouragement to those rethinking their futures.

Eventually, they filtered out everyone but two—one being the runner-up of the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering, the other an older post-peak monk.

And around the same time, Seol Lihyang arrived, looking especially tired today.

Her bleary eyes made me speak cautiously.

“Are you… feeling unwell lately?”

“Why so sudden?”

“No need to be embarrassed. And don’t worry either. The Pure Yin Physique is inherently imbalanced, disrupting the harmony of yin and yang. Even if you control it with martial arts, it’s hard to avoid minor issues.”

“Uhh, thanks for worrying, but what are you talking about?”

“You said you had something to take care of, but took a while, so I just thought…”

“Y-You!”

Seol Lihyang’s face turned crimson, and she unleashed slaps filled with frosty qi at my back.

If one landed, not even I—who had recently made great strides in external arts—could laugh it off. Some internal damage and frostbite would be inevitable.

That is… if I got hit.

Dodging her flurrying hands, I spoke calmly.

“Calm down. There’s a solution to everything, right?”

“Maybe if you just let me hit you a few times! Stop dodging already!”

“Talk to me after you drop the qi from your hands.”

As her face grew redder, so too did the chill in her palms sharpen.

“If the issue is imbalance, it just needs correcting. The fastest way would be to replenish yang energy—but that’s only temporary. Once you ascend in realm, most problems will sort themselves out.”

“I said that’s not it!”

“Now that I think about it, I’ve sparred with Tang Sowol and Senior Seo before, but not really with you. If you set aside time today—”

“This is all your fault! And you’re still talking nonsense?!”

“...Huh?”

“W-We did that yesterday, and I couldn’t sleep properly, which is why I overslept! I just washed up and did my hair, that’s why I was late—not whatever you’re imagining!”

As Seol Lihyang shouted in frustration, everyone—including Seo Mun-Hwarin, Geum Myeong, and the other spectators—turned their eyes on us in silence.

Then came a series of awkward, unnatural coughs from all around.

“Ahem. Now that everyone’s arrived and those who had to leave have left… shall we begin the sparring?”

“Yes, that would be best. This match is to exchange martial insight, so let’s refrain from using energy techniques.”

“Namu Amida Butsu. I, Geum Myeong, will humbly learn from the Lady of the Seo Mun Clan.”

Geum Myeong pressed his palms together in gratitude and assumed his stance. Seo Mun-Hwarin also raised her fist.

Everyone shifted focus to the duel, as if nothing had happened.

Only Seol Lihyang remained, gritting her teeth as she whispered in my ear.

“One day… I’ll pay you back exactly the same way, so look forward to it!”

“…Mmm.”

How cruel.

All I had ever done was be kind.

Letting out a quiet sigh, I watched as golden light enveloped Geum Myeong’s fist.

The match had begun.

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