The banners flew high.
Four great camps had staked their claim across the wide, cracked courtyard of the Assembly fortress. Each represented one of the elite factions vying for dominance—and each bore their own chosen heir to the Murim Alliance.
Drums thudded. Trumpets rang.
Crowds gathered on the battlement ledges, whispering. Gambling. Scheming.
Today was the first official Trial of Claim, where the heirs would prove their worth not with words, but weapons.
Baek Sun-Ho stood before his own small tent, wrapping his hands in cloth. His white robe fluttered in the breeze, the sash modest, his presence oddly unassuming.
So-Ri finished lacing his gauntlet. "You're going in as yourself?"
He nodded. "The mask stays off until it's necessary. I have to prove I can fight as me. Not as myth."
Ma-Rok patted his shoulder. "Don't hold back. Let them feel it."
Yul-Rin added, "But don't blow anyone up. Not too much."
Ji-Mun grinned. "We've already taken bets on whether you'll break the floor again."
Sun-Ho sighed.
Master Jang Cheol-Oh walked by, sipping his infamous tea. "If the floor breaks, it wasn't built well enough."
---
Arena – Trial Circle
The courtyard had been marked with jade dust and array stones. Spiritual formations crackled beneath the surface, suppressing fatal force. Spectators filled the balconies above—sect leaders, elders, spies, and self-proclaimed experts.
The presiding elder raised his hand. "Today's first duel—Baek Sun-Ho of Dustcloud Sect… versus Jin Myeong from the Thunder-Hawk Pavilion."
A few murmurs.
"Wait… that's him, right? The masked ghost?"
"No mask today."
"Maybe it's not him at all—just some other kid named Sun-Ho."
Sun-Ho stepped forward. His opponent—a tall, arrogant youth with gaudy armor—twirled a spear and smirked.
"You're the one they've all been whispering about?" Jin Myeong asked. "I expected taller."
Sun-Ho replied, "I expected more scars. But I guess you've never met a real fight."
The crowd laughed.
Jin Myeong's smirk vanished.
---
The Duel
BOOM—
The duel began with a thunderclap, both contenders surging forward.
Jin Myeong's spear whipped out like lightning, enhanced with thunder qi. Each strike crackled with compressed air.
Sun-Ho didn't dodge.
He stepped in.
CLANG!
He caught the shaft mid-swing, flames bursting from his fingers—subtle, focused, just enough to melt the metal grip.
Jin Myeong flinched.
Sun-Ho elbowed him in the ribs, then pivoted behind the spear's arc.
Whoosh—
He ducked low, swept Jin's legs, and sent him flying.
The audience gasped.
---
Above, sect elders leaned forward. One whispered, "That movement—clean. Refined. But no excess."
Another said, "He's suppressing his power. Look at his stance. It's deliberate."
And another murmured, "He's not just strong. He's… trained."
---
Jin Myeong roared, his pride bleeding. "You arrogant—!"
He slammed the spear down, triggering a burst of thunderwave qi—normally used to level small trees.
Sun-Ho let it hit him.
BOOM!
Dust and sound exploded across the arena.
A moment of silence.
Then—
A figure walked through the smoke.
Unburnt.
Unshaken.
Sun-Ho.
He held his palm out. Lightning crackled from his fingertips—his lightning.
The audience screamed.
"He's dual-elemental?!"
Jin Myeong blinked. "No—wait—"
Crack—ZAP!
A whip of lightning struck the ground beside Jin, exploding into harmless static. The formation absorbed the damage.
But the message was clear.
Sun-Ho could have ended it.
He walked forward calmly.
"I won't burn you," Sun-Ho said, voice quiet. "But I will outlast you."
Jin Myeong tried to swing again—
Sun-Ho disarmed him with one twist, knocked the spear into the air, caught it—
—and gently tapped Jin's shoulder with the blunt end.
The elder raised his hand. "Victory: Baek Sun-Ho."
The crowd erupted.
---
Aftermath
Back in the tent, Ji-Mun handed Sun-Ho a drink. "You know you just terrified half the Assembly?"
Yul-Rin added, "And annoyed the other half by not finishing him with flair."
Sun-Ho sipped. "I gave them what they needed. A taste."
So-Ri smiled. "Your lightning answered perfectly."
Yeon scribbled:
> Showed mercy. Scared them more than violence would have.
Ma-Rok laughed. "Can I get a lightning punch next time? Just one?"
Master Jang sipped his tea. "You've stirred the nest, my boy. Let's see which hornets come flying out next."
---
Distant Balcony
Hidden above, behind a veil talisman, two cloaked figures watched.
One wore robes of the Obsidian Blood Sect. The other had no visible affiliation.
"So," one said. "The rumors are true."
"Yes," the other whispered. "He's awakened lightning. Just like he did… before."
"Do you think he remembers?"
A pause.
"No. Not fully. But he will. And when he does… we strike."
---
End of Chapter 67 – The First Clash of Heirs