Chapter 277
While the Plum-Blossom Swords were subduing Wi Cheol Ho, the waiting room was still in chaos.
Those inside joined forces to seize Shin Ho Won and Gwa Tae Sang, who were attacking people at random.
Wudang’s Myeong Cheon and the Namgoong Clan’s Namgoong Myeong.
Even those who had returned to the waiting room to watch the remaining matches all became one, striving to pin down Shin Ho Won and Gwa Tae Sang.
The first to move was An Ho.
“You dare wreak havoc on Mount Hua? I won’t forgive you!”
An Ho charged with a face that said he could never forgive the two who had sullied the Mount Hua he loved.
Shadowing right behind him were Myeong Cheon and Namgoong Myeong.
“Plum Opens the Way!”
An Ho’s sword lanced out, sharp as a needle, toward the two.
Clang—!
The pair blocked An Ho’s blade more easily than expected.
Just then, other swords flashed past An Ho’s shoulder and thrust for the two—Myeong Cheon’s and Namgoong Myeong’s.
Shrit—!
They barely slipped aside, but Shin Ho Won’s and Gwa Tae Sang’s garments tore.
As they retreated from the blades, Jang Woon hurled himself at Shin Ho Won.
“Lightning Hundred-Volley Kicks!”
Thup-thup-thup-thup—!
Jang Woon’s feet flew, scattering hundreds of afterimages. Shin Ho Won stepped in, raising his sword to catch Jang Woon’s charge.
Pap-pap-pap—!
The phantom after-kicks vanished one by one beneath Shin Ho Won’s dazzling swordwork.
Having stifled Jang Woon’s Lightning Hundred-Volley Kicks, Shin Ho Won leveled his sword, then slashed through empty air.
Whoom—.
A blade of sword-qi came screaming for Jang Woon.
Startled, Jang Woon snapped his body down and dodged.
He meant to counter at once—but couldn’t.
Myeong Cheon’s, Namgoong Myeong’s, and An Ho’s swords were already driving in.
Clang— clang-clang-clang—!
Shin Ho Won backpedaled, parrying the three.
Gwa Tae Sang moved to help him.
He flung open his coat.
A hail of concealed weapons attached to the lining fanned out all at once.
Rrrrrrip—!
Even as the darts hissed through the air, An Ho, Myeong Cheon, and Namgoong Myeong slashed them from the air—and in that gap Jang Woon sprang for Shin Ho Won.
Clang-clang-clang—!
“Lightning Single-Flash!”
Jang Woon skimmed past Shin Ho Won, leaving a single long aftertrail.
Thud—!
Only after Jang Woon streaked by did the hit land, Shin Ho Won’s body jolting.
“Ghk—!”
Reeling from the blow, Shin Ho Won dropped to one knee.
He was rattled.
What he’d been told and what lay before him were nothing alike.
He’d heard their strength would make short work of the Divine Dragon Tournament entrants.
But the reality was not that.
Look now.
The one blocking him, Jang Woon—he’d never even heard the name. And the one who had stopped his comrade Wi Cheol Ho—another unknown.
Both belonged to some faction called Shincheon Manor he’d never heard of.
Not only Jang Woon and Seon Woo Baek; even the Divine Dragons he knew were strong.
Zhongnan’s Cheon Baek Gang and the Black Lotus Union’s Seo Bukpae fit the level they’d expected.
But Mount Hua, Wudang, and the Namgoong Clan were not.
Equal to him.
Or above.
Even after taking a forbidden pill to jack up his qi, he was getting pushed like this.
Truth be told, if he hadn’t swallowed the pill, fighting four at once wouldn’t have been possible at all.
Still, they’d achieved their purpose.
Now they only had to rampage a bit more and get caught.
But he didn’t want to get caught by Jang Woon.
Grit—.
Shin Ho Won clenched his teeth and drew his qi together.
If he was going down, he swore he’d kill Jang Woon first.
“You damned brat. I will kill you myself.”
He had to strike while the other three were tied up with Gwa Tae Sang.
If even one of those three joined in, it would get hard.
Vmmmmm—.
His sword hummed in his grip, a red aura wrapping the blade.
“I’ll cut your body to pieces.”
Hup—!
Shin Ho Won launched straight for Jang Woon.
Jang Woon shifted to meet him—when—
“You cur!”
Splat—!
A figure suddenly appeared between Jang Woon and Shin Ho Won.
It was Seo Sangbo, Lord of the Black Lotus Union.
He’d rushed over the instant he heard his son had been ambushed.
Shin Ho Won flew like a rag doll from Seo Sangbo’s single strike.
Strong among young dragons though he might be, Shin Ho Won was never a match for Seo Sangbo, a top expert at the Manifestation Realm.
Crash-bang-bang—!
Seo Sangbo, having swatted Shin Ho Won away, saw Seo Bukpae, gasping raggedly, writhing in pain.
He sprinted over and checked his son’s condition.
Worse than he feared.
His meridians were roiling. At this rate, he’d fall into qi deviation and be crippled—or dead.
Scooping up his son, Seo Sangbo raced for the physicians.
Leaving the unconscious Shin Ho Won where he’d dropped him, Jang Woon ran straight to Cheon Baek Gang of Zhongnan, who lay collapsed.
As he was checking the man’s body—
Thwack—!
With a tremendous sound, Gwa Tae Sang’s body hurtled past Jang Woon like a skimming stone.
It was Zhongnan’s Sect Leader, Cheon Geukrin.
His snow-white beard trembled with rage.
He’d wanted to kill the wretch in a single palm, but he stayed his hand—for now. He had to learn why they’d made this mess.
Cheon Geukrin didn’t like holding back.
While An Ho, Myeong Cheon, and Namgoong Myeong bound the subdued attackers, Cheon Geukrin strode to his son—Zhongnan’s future head—Cheon Baek Gang.
The one tending Cheon Baek Gang was Jang Woon.
“What did you just feed this lad?”
“A Harmony Pill.”
At that, Cheon Baek Gang looked up at Jang Woon in shock.
“Harmony Pill? You fed him something that precious?”
“Precious or not, it’s not worth more than a life.”
“Hoh!”
Cheon Geukrin took a liking to Jang Woon.
He’d already liked that the boy was guarding his son; now hearing he’d unhesitatingly given away a pill so rare only deepened it.
“I’ve done the first-aid I can. I know a physician. Would you like to go to him?”
“A physician you know?”
“Yes. A miracle doctor.”
“Good. Take us.”
If Jang Woon called him a miracle doctor, Cheon Geukrin wanted to see.
Cradling his unconscious son, Cheon Geukrin followed Jang Woon out.
His son’s health was the most urgent thing.
As for those damned bastards’ identities, the ones remaining would wring it out of them.
****
Huashan’s Sect Leader, Cheongyang Jinin, his face flushed crimson with fury.
The tournament was halted; the audience dispersed.
He’d poured his soul into this event—to trumpet Mount Hua’s vigor and to send An Ho’s name ringing across the world.
And the scum who ruined it were right in front of him.
Wi Cheol Ho lay on a cot, his severed limbs treated and wrapped in white muslin. The other two, Gwa Tae Sang and Shin Ho Won, were bound and pressure-point sealed.
As he glared at the three—
An elder who had gone to identify their sects returned, face grave.
“The sects they belong to do not exist anywhere in the Central Plains.”
“Is that true?”
“It is. We confirmed with the Beggars’ Sect and the Afternoon Gate.”
“Damn it!”
“They entered under nonexistent sect # Nоvеlight # names and hid their strength thoroughly. It’s clear they came with another purpose.”
At the elder’s words, Cheongyang Jinin fixed the trio with a fearsome stare and asked,
“Speak. What did you come for?”
“We came purely to win the tournament.”
“Purely? And yet you ambushed and attacked your opponents?”
The three smirked at Cheongyang Jinin’s rebuke.
“Isn’t it more of a problem that blade-eaters sit around so comfortably? You should always be on guard and ready to fight.”
“So you’re saying what you did was right?”
“Not right—but the ones who got hit are at fault too.”
“You wretch! Must you taste something hot before you speak straight?”
“Why? Planning to torture us? I wonder what the world will think, learning that the Way tortures people.”
“If no one learns of it, it never happened.”
Cheongyang Jinin gestured, face like a demon.
“Make their mouths tell the truth.”
At his order, the Plum-Blossom Swords dragged the trio off, faces grim.
Once they were gone, another problem remained to solve.
“What about the matches?”
“Mm.”
Headache.
The round hadn’t properly finished, and thanks to the surprise assaults, even those slated to advance to the next bouts had been harmed.
“Hebei Pang Clan’s Pang Kang and Shaolin’s Il Gwang are badly injured. Their entry in the next round is doubtful.”
“The Namgoong Clan and Wudang haven’t even had their matches yet.”
“Sect Leader, what shall we do?”
Cheongyang Jinin looked around at those asking what to do, sighed, and spoke low.
“I’ll go ask the other sects for their views. We’ll speak again when I return.”
“Understood.”
Cheongyang Jinin moved off, steps heavy.
****
“Amitabha. Shaolin will forfeit.”
That was Shaolin’s answer when asked what they wished to do.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes. If that is the boy’s fate, what can we do? To force it while injured would only do harm. We’ll consider this a good lesson and let it pass.”
Cheongyang Jinin looked to the Pang Clan’s Lord.
“We will also forfeit.”
“The Pang Clan as well?”
“Yes. From here on, all that’s left are tricky opponents. The championship is already out of reach. We’ll withdraw and see to my son’s recovery.”
Cheongyang Jinin let out a breath of relief inside.
“Then we’ll hold the Namgoong Clan vs. Wudang match tomorrow, and redraw the bracket based on that result.”
All nodded.
They should have been running the quarterfinals, but they would be skipping the middle and moving straight to the semifinals.
Cheongyang Jinin felt a spike of pure irritation.
Those damned bastards. Their tongues should be loosening about now, shouldn’t they?
He swore he would find out exactly who had sent them.
****
That evening.
One of the party that had gone to interrogate the three who had wrecked the Divine Dragon Tournament returned.
Cheongyang Jinin, thinking they’d finally talked, asked,
“Well? Did the truth come out of their mouths?”
“About that...”
“Why the hemming and hawing? Who are they from?”
“Th-that is...”
The Daoist hesitated, flustered, and Cheongyang Jinin cocked his head.
“You fool, I’m asking you. Where are they from, and what did they say their purpose was?”
“Martial Deity Heaven.”
“...What?”
For a moment Cheongyang Jinin wondered if he’d misheard.
“They said they were sent by Martial Deity Heaven. That they were told to go make trouble.”
“And I’m supposed to believe that?”
“It’s certain. Said on the brink of death.”
“Proof?”
“We’ve already found it.”
“There’s proof?”
“Yes. They slyly altered their sect names on the applications.”
“Altered their sect names?”
“Yes. One Origin Gate’s Wi Cheol Ho was a man of Martial Deity Heaven’s Heaven-and-Earth One Origin Gate. Dao Immortal Gate was actually Dao Forest Gate, and Golden Flower Gate was Golden Immortal Gate.”
“Hoh...”
“It seems they changed only the sect names while using their real personal names.”
“Unbelievable.”
Silence fell for a beat.
“Truly—this was ordered by Martial Deity Heaven?”
“Yes.”
“Why on earth would Martial Deity Heaven?”
“Perhaps they were wary because the Divine Dragon Tournament was drawing too much attention?”
“You think that passes for a reason? Do you take Martial Deity Heaven for a small-minded clique?”
“Then Sect Leader does not believe it?”
“I cannot. It could just as well be a fabrication to set Martial Deity Heaven and our Central Plains at odds.”
“No. It came out of one of them at the end of torture. It can’t be a lie.”
He was even more at a loss.
What would Martial Deity Heaven have to gain by sabotaging the Divine Dragon Tournament?
Even the sects under Martial Deity Heaven are free to enter whenever they like—that is this very tournament.
There was no reason to hide their names just to participate.