Chapter 431: Wings for the Southern Flight

Throngs of people flooded into Taeul Sect.

Most had come not out of interest in the Gate-Opening Ceremony itself, but to see the people attending it.

Those hoping to forge even the smallest connection with the great figures present.

On the surface, however, they were here to congratulate Taeul Sect.

The gifts they brought alone were enough to fill an entire riding ground.

Naturally, none could wrangle a seat at the head table with the Alliance Leader or Grand Strategist.

They had the good sense to be content with exchanging distant greetings and making themselves recognizable from afar.

Murong Gang, thoroughly unaccustomed to this sort of affair, dodged the crowds and went hunting for Jin So-un.

The other three, however, skillfully carried out the role expected of them, lending Taeul Sect face in the process.

These interactions served as a mechanism to reestablish Taeul Sect in people’s minds.

On the day of the ceremony itself, countless attendees participated with reverent bearing.

Murong Gang, Namgung Tae-ha, Hyeok Mu-gang, Jegal So-myeong, Wang Geum-san.

The incongruous sight of these five titans seated in the front row of Taeul Sect’s guests stirred an odd emotion in the attendees.

“On behalf of our humble sect, I wish to express our gratitude to all martial brethren who have honored our Gate-Opening Ceremony with their presence.”

Not a single one of them belonged to a position where they would personally attend a celebration for Taeul Sect — they were the sort to command Taeul Sect, not congratulate it.

“For a long time, Taeul Sect sealed its gates due to internal circumstances, and in doing so, shirked the responsibilities that came with our standing.”

Yet those very titans displayed a more reverent attitude than any other guest present.

This, in turn, compelled the other attendees to straighten up.

“Taeul Sect has completed its preparations and will no longer close its gates. We will not avoid the challenges before us. We will bear our responsibilities.”

Even the sort of people who would normally cause drunken scenes or throw tantrums at others’ events were sobered by the naturally forming atmosphere.

“Taeul Sect’s sealed gates are no more. Therefore—”

The Taeul Sect members, dressed in formal attire for the ceremony, could barely contain the overwhelming emotions surging from deep within their chests.

“I hereby declare the gates open!”

When the gates had been sealed, no one had noticed.

Even if they had, no one would have cared.

But now.

“OOOOOOH—”

Look at this moment.

Thunderous cheers and applause shook Taeul Sect to its foundations.

This was no longer the Taeul Sect of old.

No — this was a new Taeul Sect.

Hundreds of warriors waited outside the gate for the ceremony to end.

But in this moment, the people of Taeul Sect were not afraid of them.

Just as Hong Mun-gi had said — no matter what happened, Taeul Sect would never close its gates again.

***

Three days of music that never ceased and lights that never dimmed.

Countless people came and went, enjoying the wine and food offered to them.

As the ceremony’s festivities drew to a close, the crowds did not leave Taeul Sect.

Rather, they could not leave.

Because the true event was about to begin.

The Martial Duel Tournament.

Unlimited duels.

It was common enough for a sect’s celebration to include a small tournament as entertainment.

But an unlimited tournament that accepted every single challenger was anything but common.

And so the visitors to Taeul Sect found it impossible to turn away.

It was, after all, a chance to see the capabilities of the sect that had been setting the murim abuzz.

Moreover, the widely predicted grim outcome only stoked people’s curiosity further.

The fall of a hero.

A hero’s emergence inspires awe and anticipation.

But a hero’s fall — the proof that the object of one’s reverence was ultimately just as lowly and human as oneself — offered an even greater thrill.

Rather than reaching for a star in the heavens, people preferred to drag it down to earth.

Human nature.

Whether they’d cheered for Taeul Sect or envied them — watching their predetermined doom with their own two eyes was endlessly fascinating.

“Confident, are you?”

I’d finally been cornered by Elder Murong Gang.

More precisely, he’d tracked me down with uncanny accuracy.

“The Clan Head of the Murong Clan acting like a Gentleman on the Beam — people will point fingers, won’t they?”

“Cut the crap.”

My attempt to deflect with a few clever words failed utterly. This old man had no concept of dignity.

If he hadn’t truly been from an Orthodox Path background, he’d probably have ended up as the Black Thought Alliance Leader. Then again, he’d have become a public enemy and been killed long before that.

“What are you scheming to pull a stunt like this?”

“Do I need a scheme? We didn’t even want to open the gates in the first place.”

“If you had no scheme, why would you prop up old men like us as decorative screens?”

“Nobody’s using you as a screen, Elder.”

What nonsense.

Where in the world would you find a decorative screen that outshone its owner?

“You really plan to fight until you lose?”

Murong Gang tilted his head as if he genuinely couldn’t comprehend.

This is why pampered young lords from prestigious houses never work out.

“Taeul Sect isn’t a massive, powerful sect like the Murong Clan. Why must you assume we have to win?”

“If you know you’ll lose, why bother fighting at all?”

And yet, in his past life, Murong Gang had fought the Demonic Cult knowing full well he’d lose.

Even knowing his clan would be destroyed, he’d gone so far as to make all of Murong Clan’s martial arts public to the murim.

Humans were such contradictory creatures.

The man who now prioritized his clan’s honor and reputation would one day sacrifice everything — himself and his entire clan — for the murim.

“Has the Murong Clan never once, across its centuries of tradition, suffered a defeat or seen its influence diminish?”

“……”

“The will to keep fighting even after losing again and again. The resolve to take another step forward no matter how small you’ve become. Isn’t showing that what tradition and history are? I was taught that’s how you build a legacy.”

Murong Gang’s eyes widened sharply for an instant.

Then he sank into deep contemplation.

It’d be nice if he could go do his thinking somewhere out of sight.

“Damn it…… whether it’s the soil that’s good or the tree that grew well, there’s no way to tell.”

Murong Gang muttered something cryptic, then —

“I noticed a fascinating ‘monster’ living in the old Taeul Hall. Don’t tell me you were planning to use him?”

When had he even seen that?

“What do you take me for, seriously?”

“……”

“Are you going to keep this up?”

It bordered on disrespect, but anything less blunt and this man simply didn’t get the message.

“Ahem! If it’s not that then fine, why are you getting all worked up! Anyway, remember well that you owe me one.”

At least he seemed to understand.

Though it cost me a sizable lump on my head, and the External Elder card I’d prepared as a secret weapon went unplayed.

‘Absolutely no help at all.’

***

The Grand Training Ground, which had served as the banquet venue, was cleaned spotless.

The feasting guests withdrew to the rear of the grounds.

Those who couldn’t find seats perched on buildings and walls.

Taeul Sect’s recent construction had expanded its capacity considerably, but there was no way to accommodate the sudden flood of spectators, so nobody stopped them from climbing wherever they pleased.

“The Martial Duel Tournament will now begin.”

The first person to step onto the stage was Geum-pyo.

Jin So-un leaned in and whispered into the back of the tense Geum-pyo’s head.

“I recently learned a wondrous Forbidden Technique. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that guarantees you’ll grow a whole level — if you can just endure it.”

“……Out of nowhere?”

“If you fail to beat ten opponents, I’ll bestow that ‘opportunity’ upon you.”

“……”

Geum-pyo’s entire body trembled at his Senior Brother’s boundlessly generous encouragement.

‘What the hell kind of freakish thing has he learned this time?’

Had his Senior Brother — the way he phrased things like that — ever once brought back a normal training method?

Opportunity, his ass.

It was surely a torture session — no, a training regimen — requiring him to teeter on the brink of death while enduring agony so excruciating he’d beg to die.

His Academy classmates had gotten genuinely angry upon hearing about Taeul Sect’s training methods, accusing them of lying.

What rational person would undertake such grotesque training?

Which was precisely why the constant refrain between himself and Eun-ho was: rather than accept any “opportunity” the Senior Brother offered, it’d be better to hurl yourself off the nearest cliff.

“Hoo……”

His racing heartbeat gradually steadied.

If the Senior Brother had mentioned “opportunity” and the number ten, that ultimately meant he believed Geum-pyo had the skill to handle ten opponents.

Click, click, click.

His first opponent climbed onto the opposite side of the platform.

Six chi tall, powerfully built, a coarse beard, and a massive Great Chopping Saber.

The fighting spirit radiating from his entire body.

This was the very image of a “warrior” that Geum-pyo had envisioned as a child.

Gulp.

Ten of those?

Could he really do it?

He felt a searing gaze and turned his head.

SWISH—

There was his Senior Brother, smiling as he drew his thumb across his own throat.

Forbidden Technique, opportunity, growth……

‘Maybe it’d be better to die right here.’

His flagging confidence blazed back to life.

“Taeul Sect’s Second-Generation Disciple Lee Geum-pyo requests your guidance!”

He offered a clasped hands greeting, and his opponent scowled.

“You’re using a shield?”

“Huh? Ah…… yes.”

“You don’t even know the basics.”

“……”

What was he talking about?

Basics?

Wasn’t what he’d learned getting beaten up by his Senior Brother every day the basics?

Before he could even ask the genuinely innocent question of which part of him was lacking —

RAAAAH!

His opponent erupted with fury as though he’d been personally insulted.

His martial arts uniform swelled to bursting and the Great Chopping Saber spun in a massive arc.

Strange.

Leaving that many openings would invite a surprise attack, wouldn’t it?

‘Ah! He’s showing openings on purpose!’

Geum-pyo raised the Diamond Shield higher and tucked his body behind it.

He needed to assess his opponent’s fighting style first.

But then.

“Thousand-Jin Crushing Strike!”

His opponent helpfully announced the technique name and telegraphed the saber’s destination.

Geum-pyo, half-doubting, angled the Diamond Shield to deflect the saber’s trajectory.

THUD.

The Great Chopping Saber slammed into the ground and the attack glanced off.

And in that instant.

Geum-pyo saw it.

The wide-eyed expression of the “warrior.”

It was, beyond any shadow of doubt —

‘……He’s shocked?’

A face painted with alarm and fear.

WHOOSH.

Instinct took over and the Phantom Shadow Kick deployed on its own.

His body simply moved.

All of it was ingrained through sparring with his Senior Brother.

If he didn’t lash out in moments like these, the Senior Brother’s merciless barrage would come crashing down.

BOOM!

A crisp impact.

WHOOOM—

The six-chi warrior’s body sailed through the air, cleared the edge of the training ground, and —

CRASH!

— slammed into the three-hundred-year-old tree in Taeul Sect’s courtyard, collapsing unconscious on the spot.

“……”

A cold silence, as though sudden rain had fallen, settled over the venue.

Every pair of eyes fixed on him with an odd expression.

Only then did Geum-pyo realize his mistake, and he belatedly shouted:

“Ph-Phantom Shadow Asura Kick!”

“……”

He’d only ever fought life-or-death battles; this was his first formal duel.

He’d had no idea you were supposed to call out your technique name.

But even after his belated attempt to correct the gaffe, the atmosphere showed no sign of changing.

“I…… I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had to call it out……”

The moment he hurried to bow his head —

Click—

Kang Chae-seok, serving as referee, walked over and raised Geum-pyo’s hand.

“Taeul Sect’s Lee Geum-pyo wins!”

And simultaneously —

WAAAAAH!

A thunderous roar erupted from the Taeul Sect disciples.

Applause and cheers soon followed from the spectators as well.

What on earth was happening……

“Geum-pyo.”

Just then, as the bewildered Geum-pyo looked around, Kang Chae-seok leaned in and whispered.

“Even in formal duels, you don’t actually need to call out technique names.”

Geum-pyo’s face turned red as a persimmon.