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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: The Approaching Duel
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As my body grew more accustomed to training with the sword forms of the Nine Swords of Dugu, my breathing became more precise and relaxed, and the internal energy accumulating in my pupils began to increase.
Naturally, as my power grew, my sword strikes gained force and my speed increased.
Handling the sword became easier, creating a virtuous cycle where I could naturally focus more on my breathing.
And so, as I familiarized myself with the Nine Swords of Dugu, the final night before the duel arrived.
"Um, Young Master."
Mujin, who was diligently chewing and swallowing a piece of tough beef, looked at Masok.
"Sigh..."
"Ah, what is it?!"
Mujin slammed his chopsticks down and shouted in frustration, prompting Masok to answer.
"It's nothing."
That was the fourth time already.
*Thwack!*
"I was trying not to raise my hand while eating, but who do you take me for, a pushover?"
"Haaah..."
Normally, Masok would have clutched his head and retorted vehemently, but this time, he only sighed and buried his face on the table.
Seeing this unusual behavior, Mujin sat down and spoke.
"I know you're worried about tomorrow's duel, but I can handle a mere thief, so don't worry."
"Yes, of course. I believe in you, Young Master. I do, but…"
"If you believe, you believe. What's with the conditions? You believe, but what?"
"Actually, there's a strange rumor going around the streets of Seochang."
"What rumor?"
"That the Cheonghwa Merchant Guild has brought in a master from the Kongtong Sect to witness the duel."
"Kongtong, huh. Since that thief's sect is Kongtong, it wouldn't be strange for one of those black-nosed horses to come down."
At his words, Masok looked at him and raised his voice.
"Young Master! Aren't you worried at all?"
"About what?"
"The Kongtong Sect! Kongtong! The Kongtong Sect that holds a seat among the Nine Great Sects!"
"Right. Those black-nosed bastards holed up on Mount Kongtong. So what about them?"
"..."
Even if the Nine Great Sects had been in seclusion for fifteen years, they were still the Nine Great Sects.
Even Masok, a servant of a martial family, feared their prestige.
They were not an opponent the young head of a failing family could speak of in such a manner.
"Sigh. This is why I'm even more worried."
"What now?"
"If you really speak like that in front of a master from Kongtong…"
"Then what?"
"Our family will be ground to dust and scattered to the winds."
Mujin was about to shout, 'As if some pathetic Kongtong Sect from the Nine Great Sects matters!', but he swallowed his words.
"I suppose so. In my current state, I guess I can't afford to ignore even one of the Nine Great Sects, can I?"
At his words, Masok's gloomy expression finally brightened.
"Young Master. You've finally come to your senses…"
*Thwack!*
"Ugh…"
"In my past life or this one, I have no intention of living by the sword while worrying about what others think."
"Sigh. Still, you must be careful with your words. It could bring harm not only to you, Young Master, but also to the two young ones."
As Masok spoke, rubbing his swelling forehead, Mujin inwardly nodded.
"And they say blood is thicker than water. Even if the master who agreed to be a witness sides a little with that thief… no, with the Cheonghwa Merchant Guild, you must not get too agitated."
"Those dogs from the Nine Great Sects are more than capable of that. But don't worry. There will be more than a few eyes watching. I'll make it so they have no choice but to be convinced."
Masok looked at Mujin with a worried expression.
Normally, Mujin would have trained with his sword forms until dawn after a late dinner, but with the duel ahead, he went to bed early.
"Tomorrow is the day."
At Elder Jo's words, the Chief Steward remained silent, gazing at the crescent moon in the sky.
"..."
Elder Jo did not rush him.
After a long while, the Chief Steward finally spoke.
"Do you know how many years we have been with this family?"
"Thirty-seven years."
The Chief Steward nodded at Elder Jo's answer.
"He was truly remarkable in his youth."
Though it was a sudden reminiscence, Elder Jo nodded in agreement.
"Those were dazzling days."
"Appearing in the martial world alone, he displayed such prowess that even the haughty Tang Clan had no choice but to acknowledge him."
"Weren't we both drawn to his light, vowing to dedicate our lives to him?"
"And now, we are about to break that vow."
The Chief Steward's words pierced Elder Jo's heart like a dagger.
"This… is not a betrayal of him. We must ensure his bloodline and martial legacy continue, must we not?"
"I know. Even without your persuasion, I know it better than anyone. Seventeen years. It's been seventeen years since I began tending to the Young Master's madness. They say ten years of nursing a sick parent can test any child's devotion, don't they? But it's been seventeen years. Seventeen years of protecting the declining Yeomhwa Family alongside the Young Master."
"...Even if we meet him in the afterlife, he will not blame us."
"Haaah."
Sighing at the night sky, the Chief Steward asked.
"Are the preparations made?"
"What preparations could there be? Just the little wealth we managed to hide away. A precious bit of money to establish a new home. There's nothing more to pack. Just the warriors and four command medallions are all we have."
For a martial family that once made Sichuan tremble, it was a pitifully meager collection of belongings for a move.
"You go on ahead."
"You…"
"He is still his blood. Someone has to be there to collect the body."
"Do you think the Cheonghwa Merchant Guild will let you go? You will suffer greatly."
"As if a mere band of merchants could dare to do anything to me."
"A master from Kongtong will be there."
The Chief Steward's brow furrowed sharply.
"Hmph! What's so proud about abetting a theft? There's no need to worry."
Hearing his words, Elder Jo steeled his resolve.
"If you insist, then do as you see fit. You must be careful. That cunning woman is the one who brought this family to ruin. She will not be easy to deal with."
"Don't you worry. Just wait for my signal at the promised place. The two young ones will be very frightened, so…"
The Chief Steward was already fraught with worry just thinking of the two young children.
Thus, the night of deep sorrows passed, and the day of the duel finally dawned.
The promise to meet at noon in the open square in front of the Grand Welcome Tower in Seochang had already spread not just throughout the city, but all across Sichuan.
The eldest son of the Yeomhwa Family, suffering from madness, was to duel the second son of the Cheonghwa Merchant Guild, a lay disciple of the Kongtong Sect.
Though the exact reasons were unknown, most believed it was an attempt to settle a grudge from seventeen years ago.
Naturally, many people from Seochang, as well as martial artists from all over Sichuan, came to watch.
As a result, the Grand Welcome Tower, said to be the finest tavern in Seochang, was bustling from early in the morning, and the merchants who set up stalls nearby enjoyed an unexpected boom in business.
"The meat seems a lot tougher these days. Is it just me?"
"It's not just you. The cheaper cuts of beef are all this tough."
Mujin tilted his head at Masok's reply.
"Are we out of money already?"
"How would I know? The money the Chief Steward gives me is dwindling by the day."
Masok replied with a sullen expression, his forehead red and swollen.
"Are you sulking?"
"Am I a child? Why would I sulk?"
"You are sulking. You shouldn't have made such a fuss first thing in the morning."
Masok, whose forehead had swelled up after trying to persuade Mujin to run away when the Kongtong master appeared in Seochang that morning, pouted.
"Don't worry. The things you're concerned about won't happen."
"..."
After the meal, Mujin leisurely rested his body, then slung the cloth-wrapped iron sword over his back and left his quarters, where the Chief Steward was waiting for him.
"Are you on your way?"
"Of course. I have to go. You didn't come here to tell me to run away too, did you?"
"They are the words of a warrior who will succeed the eldest son of a martial family. Such a thing should not happen."
Mujin nodded at the Chief Steward's surprisingly reasonable words.
"That's right. We're both warriors, so we understand each other. Then wait here. I'll be back after I beat that thief."
"I will accompany you."
At the word 'accompany,' Mujin briefly frowned.
He recalled his master's words from long ago, that moving in packs was something only the weak did.
But he quickly changed his mind.
'I'm the head of a family now. I should get used to it.'
"Fine, let's do that."
As Mujin finished speaking and was about to move, the Chief Steward spoke up.
"Before that. You wouldn't happen to be carrying the Red Flame Arts with you, would you?"
"Red Flame Arts? Ah. It's right here."
Mujin pulled three manuals from his robes.
It was the only treasure left in the now-failing Yeomhwa Family.
"Leave them here."
Mujin nonchalantly handed the manuals to the steward, who had extended his hand.
"Well, I've memorized it all, so I don't need to carry it around anymore. Tell Elder Jo to keep it safe."
"Yes. We will guard it with our lives. You need not worry."
Mujin tilted his head for a moment at the Chief Steward's somewhat solemn demeanor, then started walking.
On his way out, Elder Jo, who was waiting at the main gate, bowed deeply to Mujin.
"Go… and return safely."
Mujin nodded awkwardly at the uncharacteristically formal gesture.
The Chief Steward handed the manuals to him and sent a telepathic message.
*-The two young masters and these manuals… I'm counting on you.*
*-Do not worry. I will be waiting.*
And so, the two men finished their farewells with grave expressions.
The three of them walked through the unusually crowded marketplace, making their way through the throng of people toward the Grand Welcome Tower.
"It's the Young Master of the Yeomhwa Family!"
Someone's shout caused the crowd to part, creating a path for Mujin to walk comfortably to the front of the tower.
Behind him, Masok let out another sigh.
"Haaah."
As if understanding his feelings, the Chief Steward comforted Masok.
"Do not be too sad. He is going on his final path as a warrior."
"Pardon? What do you mean by that? His final path?"
The Chief Steward looked at Masok as if to ask what he was talking about.
"Are you not worried that the Young Master… might meet an unfortunate end?"
"No. I'm not worried about the Young Master in the slightest. On the contrary, I'm worried he might cause a huge accident by injuring his opponent too severely. If he can't control his temper and points his sword at the Kongtong master… sigh."
The Chief Steward stared at Masok, completely baffled by his incomprehensible words.
'Can madness be contagious?'
He began to worry that Masok, having been so close to Mujin, might have caught his madness.
In front of the six-story Grand Welcome Tower was a wide-open square, surrounded by a massive crowd that had even set up ladders to get a better view.
Duels between martial artists were always a great spectacle for many, and they stirred the competitive spirit of countless warriors.
The second son of the Cheonghwa Merchant Guild, a lay disciple of the Kongtong Sect.
The eldest son of a failing martial family, suffering from madness.
The eldest son of the Yeomhwa Family, once said to be born with immense martial talent, driven mad by his cousin, the second son of the Cheonghwa Merchant Guild.
The history between the two was more than enough to pique the curiosity of many.
And with a duel where people gathered and a winner would be decided, one thing was never missing: betting.
"Alright, alright. Place your bets, everyone! This is a wager guaranteed by the Bangho Chamber, so you can bet with confidence!"
There were burly men, a middle-aged clerk tirelessly recording in a ledger, and a slender man hawking bets.
Naturally, many people were jumping in to place their money.
"What are the odds on the Cheonghwa Merchant Guild's side?"
"Hmm… let's see… at best, it'll be a quarter of your bet."
"So there's still a payout, I see."
"Most of the people in Seochang have bet on the second son of the Cheonghwa Guild, but it seems the warriors and people from outside are betting on the martial family."
"Those folks are going to lose a lot of money. I'll bet two silver taels on the second son of the Cheonghwa Guild."
"Old Dong from the fabric store on the Cheonghwa Guild… two silver taels."
And so, the duel that had captured the attention of Sichuan was finally about to begin.
"It's been a while."
At the appearance of Bu Cho-yeon, who naturally hadn't missed the event, Mujin smiled.
'Let's see if you can still smile like that after watching your son get crippled right before your eyes.'
In Mujin's eyes, the deep killing intent of Jeongcheon, once called the Divine Demon, began to form.