Sanghyeok, who had been sitting quietly preparing for the finals, spotted Han Baeksa entering with an excited, flushed face and rose from his seat.
"You've arrived, Head of the Family."
"You. Did you really do it properly? How could he move like that?"
"Didn't I tell you that Yakseon treated him this morning?"
"Even so, Yeongsu even took the Cheonjin Pill…!"
"He simply lacked the skill."
Sanghyeok said calmly.
"Isn't it Yeongsu's fault for failing to defeat someone who had even been poisoned?"
At that moment, Han Myeongho stormed forward in agitation.
"What did you just say? Huh?!"
Han Baeksa stopped his enraged son and looked at Sanghyeok.
"…Fine. As you say, he did look to be in poor condition."
"I kept my promise. I betrayed my friend and pledged loyalty to Unseong. So now it's your turn to keep your promise, Head of the Family."
"Our agreement was that Yeongsu would win. But you failed."
Sanghyeok frowned.
Han Baeksa spoke as if granting him a favor.
"But Unseong hasn't lost yet. If you win and convey my wish to His Majesty, I'll release that female servant, as promised."
It was a statement that made one snort in disbelief, but Sanghyeok pretended not to notice.
"What is this wish?"
"It's simple. There's news that a large expedition force will be formed for the Northern Great Rainforest incident. I want the medicines, weapons, and provisions used then to be purchased from Unseong."
Just business?
People had died, all to monopolize a single business deal, and yet he spoke so brazenly?
Sanghyeok swallowed his anger as he watched Han Baeksa lie without changing his expression.
Any lingering sense of affection born of blood ties crumbled away.
Still, he had to pretend ignorance until the very end.
Ju Eunhee had to remain someone who was dead.
"…All right. I'll do that."
"Good. Make sure you do. If you handle just that, taking you back into Unseong won't be difficult either."
"I want to rest. Please leave me alone."
"Very well."
Han Baeksa left with a smile, and Sanghyeok stared at the retreating figure of the family head.
"Whew. You endured it well. You endured it."
Muttering that, Sanghyeok steeled his resolve.
Now, let's become the upright and admirable man Father wanted.
"You raised your son so well! Hahaha!"
"He grew up well on his own. I didn't do anything. Hahaha!"
Right outside the waiting room, Father and Yoo Hyeonseong were laughing loudly, clinking cups together.
The father who always worried whenever there was a tournament or a fight was simply enjoying the moment now.
The tension's gone. The tension.
But that was a good sign.
In the past, it had felt like sending an incompetent son out into dangerous waters, but now it meant that anxiety was gone.
Just then, Yoo Hyeonseong spoke.
"Seoha seems like he'd take good care of Arin and his own household. His martial arts are that impressive."
"Well, isn't that his choice? As long as Seoha is happy, I plan to support him."
"Hahaha, I see."
Yoo Hyeonseong let out a small sigh and glared at me.
Even if you look at me like that, no.
Choosing a life partner is a once-in-a-lifetime decision, and Arin has to be happy too.
If she married someone like me—ugh.
I don't even want to imagine it.
Just then, Park Minju approached from the side.
"Are you okay? You don't look so good."
"Oh, this? I'm fine. But why are you here? Shouldn't you be going to Sanghyeok's waiting room?"
Park Minju blushed and spoke.
"Well, we're not close enough for me to just go in. I want to, but… more importantly, did you resolve the issue?"
"The issue?"
"Sanghyeok. What situation was he in? No, don't tell me. He might not like me knowing. No—still, I want to know. Could you tell me?"
She was having the whole argument by herself.
It made me want to tease her.
"I'm not telling you. Watch the finals. Then you'll know."
"I don't think I'll be happy no matter which one of you wins…"
"You'll be happy if Sanghyeok wins."
"Well, yeah, that's true."
You admit it just like that?
"It'd be nice if both of you could win. Get along. That's impossible, right?"
"It's possible."
"It is? How?"
Park Minju spoke as if she couldn't understand.
Of course, there could only be one champion.
But what is victory?
Isn't achieving the goal you set for yourself—or something beyond it—what we call victory?
If two people whose goal is the championship meet, only one winner emerges. But if they have different goals, there can be two winners.
I intended to make this final exactly that.
After about half an hour of celebratory performances, the final match began.
"Top scorer of the entrance exam. Cheongsin's new tiger cub. Lee Seoha! Will he avenge his brother? Unseong's hope, Han Sanghyeok!"
The announcer eagerly set up the rivalry.
With Han Yeongsu having suffered a humiliating defeat at my hands, the clash between Unseong's illegitimate son and Cheongsin's genius drew considerable attention.
And once word spread that King Shin Yucheol himself was watching, the stands filled to capacity.
Sanghyeok and I faced each other and nodded.
Like Han Yeongsu, Sanghyeok came out wielding twin swords. I planned to face him with Single-Sword Style, so I held only one.
I looked at Sanghyeok and nodded.
Just as planned.
Just as planned.
"We begin now!"
At the announcer's shout, the gong rang out, and Sanghyeok and I charged at each other simultaneously.
Sanghyeok clenched his teeth and swung his twin swords, while I countered with Gong Sidaebo, enduring the onslaught.
Tatata-tatata-tatak!
Wooden swords collided without pause, and the spectators rose to their feet one by one, eyes wide.
A murmur spread.
Perhaps because of my concentration, the cheers of the crowd sounded distant.
An assault like a thunderous storm.
Sanghyeok attacked with veins bulging on his forehead.
The skill the prodigy had built over six months was comparable to what I had honed over a year, relentlessly polishing future techniques.
But I had no intention of simply letting him win.
Even amid the sharp attacks of the Cheonroe Twin Sword, I counterattacked to create openings.
An attack that would shatter bones with a single hit.
I had no intention of going easy on Sanghyeok either.
Only then could we truly display our abilities.
So why were we fighting like we were trying to kill each other?
That was exactly our plan.
The night before.
After Ju Eunhee departed for Hwagang, Sanghyeok and I discussed the finals.
"A performance?"
"If the final ends anticlimactically, won't His Majesty—who might even come to watch in person—be disappointed? So we go all out. You use the Cheonroe Twin Sword aggressively, and I counter with Single-Sword Style."
"The Cheonroe Twin Sword? Why not Single-Sword Style?"
"If we both use Single-Sword Style, it'll be boring. We'll just use footwork, wait for openings, and end it in one blow. Grit your teeth and fight. If I see an opening, I'll win immediately. Half-baked acting won't work on you."
King Shin Yucheol wasn't someone we could fool.
"But if we're serious, can I really match you?"
"That depends on your effort. You obtained the secret manual your father left you and practiced it every day, didn't you?"
Sanghyeok nodded.
He had avoided me and Arin out of guilt, doing nothing but train every day.
Considering Sanghyeok's talent and the quality of the secret manual, he must have built considerable skill.
"Then we just fight like that, and whoever wins makes the wish."
"Not quite. The last part is the most important. The ending has to be flashy. When we give the signal, we use Dragon Flash at the same time. And then…"
When I told him about the final scene of our performance, Sanghyeok stared at me in shock.
I patted his shoulder and said,
"Don't mess it up."
And with that, all preparations were complete.
And so the final arrived.
Sanghyeok's skill exceeded my expectations.
Cheonroe Twin Sword, Lightning Hundred Claws.
The same technique Han Yeongsu had used.
But this one was powerful enough to leave massive claw marks carved into the arena floor.
'Damn, he's tough.'
A genius was still a genius.
With the Shinro Mind Method and his father's secret manual, he was growing far faster than I had anticipated.
But not yet.
A few months weren't enough to catch up to someone who had trained himself to death for a full year.
I took Lightning Hundred Claws head-on and began pressing Sanghyeok back.
As our energies collided, deafening shockwaves rang out in all directions.
At the same time, every spectator sprang to their feet, holding their breath.
There were no cheers.
Only thousands of eyes watching Sanghyeok and me as we danced violently.
After exchanging hundreds of blows, our swords met.
I spoke to Sanghyeok.
"Huff, huff. Tired?"
"I'm at my limit. I moved too violently. My whole body's numb. Hey."
"You did well. You've improved a lot. At this rate, I might actually lose."
"Putting on airs while holding back?"
I wasn't holding back.
He was mistaken about that.
Either way, the plan had to continue.
"Let's end it. We burn it at its brightest."
"Fine. Just like the plan."
"Yeah. Don't mess it up."
We widened the distance between us.
As Sanghyeok threw one sword into the air, both of us took the stance for Dragon Flash.
The strongest strike.
The foundation of Single-Sword Style, and the technique Sanghyeok and I had practiced the most.
Single-Sword Style, Dragon Flash.
The moment two dragons charged at each other as if to kill, a thunderous roar erupted, and both wooden swords were flung high into the air.
I immediately turned and took my stance—but only the hilt remained in my hand.
Sanghyeok, on the other hand, caught the other wooden sword as it fell from the sky and instantly assumed a Single-Sword Style stance.
In the silence that followed, I opened my mouth.
"Well, damn. My weapon broke. Guess that's it."
I shrugged, tossed the hilt out of the arena, and raised both hands.
"I surrender."
At that moment, the spectators who had been holding their breath erupted into cheers.
"Wooooaaah!"
The cheering crowd soon began shouting at the announcer.
"It just broke! Do it again!"
"That's right! You can't lose just because your weapon broke!"
"Rematch! Rematch!"
The ones shouting the loudest were probably the ones who had bet on me.
Given that they had the social standing to attend the Seongmu Grand Battle, their voices carried.
But there would be no rematch.
Since I lodged no protest, the final ended right there.
Ignoring the flustered announcer, I approached Sanghyeok and hugged him.
"Congratulations. Champion."
"…Is it really okay for me to win? You could just win yourself and make the wish."
"I told you, it's a wish I can't make. Even His Majesty couldn't grant it if I asked. But if you ask, he can."
I smiled meaningfully and patted Sanghyeok's shoulder.
"So you have to make the wish. Don't betray me."
"I'd rather be torn limb from limb than betray you."
There was sincerity in Sanghyeok's eyes.
And thus, the final where no one truly lost was complete.
Sanghyeok won the championship, of course, and I hadn't disgraced Cheongsin—and I'd achieve my wish as well. Couldn't I be called a winner too?
Just then, I saw the deeply moved King Shin Yucheol approaching from afar.
Beside him, Han Baeksa followed with a beaming smile.
He must think he'd won.
All right, then.
Let's make the wish.
A wish so shocking that Han Baeksa could never have imagined it.