episode_0036

A flash of admiration flickered in the eyes of a man seated at the head of the platform.

His name was Pyeong Mugeuk, the Martial Extremity Saber Venerable.

He was the current patriarch of the Hebei Pyeong family and a prodigy of saber arts, known in the martial world to have no rival with the saber.

“Remarkable.”

He admired the completely shattered floor of the martial arts arena.

Qi, by nature, embodies the quality of weight, making it difficult to reside in light materials.

However, metals like iron have high density, allowing qi to settle stably, which is why most weapons are made of metal.

But look at that crude fishing rod.

The wooden bamboo pole, which looked like it was made of connected bamboo, was light and hollow, naturally causing qi to quickly dissipate.

Moreover, with holes at every joint where qi could scatter, it was the worst material for holding qi.

That wasn’t all.

Any master could gather qi into sword energy and unleash it.

But Cheongun had momentarily separated the sword energy gathered at the tip of the bamboo pole just before impact.

He used part of it to create a shockwave, while simultaneously maintaining the other part, infusing it with just the right amount of internal energy.

Controlling a single mass of qi in two directions simultaneously was like splitting a single stream of water and making it flow with different intensities.

It was a technique utterly impossible without naturally exceptional qi perception.

In that respect, the boy named Cheongun could truly be called a genius that appears perhaps once every few hundred years.

Pyeong Mugeuk stared blankly at Cheongun, who had declared his own victory and was leisurely leaving the martial arts arena.

So surprised was he by the skill Cheongun had displayed that his mouth was slightly agape.

The sect leaders, aristocratic family heads, and other elders seated next to Pyeong Mugeuk were no different.

They too could not take their eyes off Cheongun’s retreating figure.

Just then, a woman seated right beside him opened her mouth.

“…That boy, Cheongun, what is his sect?”

Seo Jeongah, the Beautiful Moon Abbess.

At the words of the current sect leader of the Emei Sect, Pyeong Mugeuk’s eyebrows twitched.

“I don’t know. But the name sounds familiar. I recall the Sword Venerable recently took on a new disciple also named Cheongun.”

“But he didn’t use a sword at all, did he?”

“That’s why I said I don’t know. Cheongun isn’t such an uncommon name. Hah. A fishing rod, of all things. Utterly absurd.”

“I agree. He wielded that fishing rod like a club.”

At her words, Elder No Gwang of the Beggars’ Sect, who was observing from nearby, scoffed.

“You observed correctly. Though I don’t know where he learned it, he perfectly embodied the essence of Dangdubonggal [a sudden blow to the head].”

“What is that?”

“It’s a basic technique of the Striking-Head-with-a-Club martial art, used to strike the back of an opponent’s head.”

“…”

That’s a technique?

Though speechless, Seo Jeongah maintained her composure as much as possible.

Just then, Tang Soha, an elder of the Tang Family seated nearby, spoke.

“They say that during the preliminaries, he cut an o-seok plate in half with his fishing line as if slicing a radish.”

“Hah! At that level, wouldn’t it be more like a thread-sword [a sharp thread] than a staff?”

“If that’s the case, since he wields the fishing rod like a whip, shouldn’t it be called an iron whip [a whip made of iron]?”

“And looking at how the tip is sharpened, it also resembles a spear…”

Those seated on the platform fell into confusion.

Though they had traveled the martial world and seen countless weapons, they had truly never heard of or seen a martial artist wielding a fishing rod.

Just then, Geum Myeongju, the Righteous Alliance Leader, who had been listening silently, subtly parted his lips.

“It’s a weapon called a fishing rod [釣竿]. It’s a rare and unusual weapon occasionally used by reclusive eccentrics living near rivers.”

Indeed it was so.

Though Geum Myeongju had never seen it himself, it was something he had briefly encountered in the martial arts secret histories, which contained records from ancient times.

But Seo Jeongah still clicked her tongue, as if displeased.

“Whether it’s a fishing rod or whatever, I don’t feel too good about it. A fishing rod in a sacred martial arts competition. Isn’t that showing too little consideration for the opponent?”

“What can be done? It’s not against the rules.”

“I fully agree with Sect Leader Seo. Losing in a martial arts competition is already humiliating, but what if one loses to such a bizarre weapon?”

“Indeed. He even has a perfectly fine sword hanging from his waist. Can one truly say he has no intention of insulting his opponent?”

A martial arts competition is a venue for junior martial artists to hone their skills.

Furthermore, their own disciples are also participating in this competition.

It’s fine if the disciples lose.

Because there’s always something to learn from defeat.

However, getting hit by some crazy fellow with a fishing rod and getting knocked out is an entirely different matter.

How many people are watching this martial arts competition, after all!

Such a one-sided defeat offers nothing to learn and is only humiliating.

To be knocked out by a fishing rod hit to the back of the head, while already feeling sorrow over a defeat, the humiliation would be unspeakable.

It was truly utterly useless [lit. one hundred harms no benefit].

However, there was one person who thought differently.

It was none other than Pyeong Mugeuk, the patriarch of the Pyeong family.

He asked the Alliance Leader.

“Alliance Leader.”

“Speak.”

“I wish to take that boy, Cheongun, as my disciple.”

At his words, the air instantly froze.

Before the Alliance Leader could even reply, Seo Jeongah spoke first, her voice raised.

“What are you saying? A disciple?”

“Exactly as I said. For someone so young, not even twenty yet, to reach that level of mastery – isn’t that a heaven-given talent? Furthermore, didn’t everyone see it just now? How he momentarily dispersed his sword energy to control the force. His ability to control qi is truly astonishing. His internal energy also appears pure, far from any dark arts. Frankly, he’s a talent I covet.”

“…Are you serious?”

“I do not speak with two tongues.”

His words were true.

Honestly, Cheongun’s strange behavior and words, combined with the nature of the martial arts competition, had made his presence uncomfortable.

No matter how rare young talents are in the martial world, if they are not ultimately one’s own people, they are as good as ignored.

But what if he were one of their own?

That fellow knocks out an opponent in one blow?

It’s not an insult, but a source of pride.

That fellow’s strange behavior and words?

A strong person is allowed to be like that.

It was truly an example of ‘I am right, he is wrong’ [我是他非].

What I do is right, what others do is wrong.

Was that why?

Instead, the atmosphere slowly began to warm up to the new direction Pyeong Mugeuk had suggested.

Geum Myeongju, the Righteous Alliance Leader, chuckled at them.

It was truly a pathetic spectacle, to act like that instead of welcoming the birth of a new master.

More than anything, he was at a loss.

The reason was…

“There’s something you all are mistaken about.”

At the Alliance Leader’s words, their heads turned.

“That child already has a master.”

Pyeong Mugeuk nodded.

Since he participated in the Dangajihoe, he must have a master.

But there was no need to worry about it.

He didn’t seem to have learned any unique martial arts, and using a fishing rod as a weapon implied that his sect was insignificant.

In that case, he could simply pay a suitable price and have Cheongun join his own sect.

But.

“His master is the Sword Venerable.”

“…The Sword Venerable?”

“Jin Mooseong, the Red Night Sword Sovereign. He is that boy’s master.”

****

Cheongun, executing light footwork, bounded swiftly through space.

His speed was remarkably fast.

The reason was that he still had several days until the next match, and there was something he absolutely had to do before winning the martial arts competition.

It was none other than martial arts betting.

Wherever humans gathered, regardless of era or time, gambling has always existed.

Desire invariably accompanies money, so gambling could be called humanity’s eternal friend.

Thus, Cheongun too felt the need to dedicate himself to revitalizing the economy of the Central Plains.

Above all, Cheongun knew the winner of this competition.

It was none other than Cheongun himself.

Just then, Cheonwi, who was following Cheongun, called out.

“Great Hero! Where exactly are you going?”

“To gamble.”

“Huh? Gambling?”

“Yes.”

Cheonwi was slightly flustered.

In the current situation, ‘gambling’ could only mean martial arts betting.

But despite everything, to gamble?

While not forbidden by law, isn’t it a practice that a young talent of the orthodox sects, dedicated to martial arts, should absolutely shun?

“Great Hero! Why would you engage in such a thing?”

“You do it too. There’s money to be made.”

“Huh?”

“Quiet down and just follow.”

Cheongun increased his speed.

Cheonwi increased his internal energy to match Cheongun’s suddenly elevated speed.

Moyong Jin, following behind, also sped up, grumbling.

“Isn’t it cheating to be fast even with light footwork?”

“He’s a master, isn’t he?”

The light footwork they had learned was impressive enough to be called divine art anywhere.

Yet, Cheongun’s light footwork boasted a speed that was on an entirely different level.

After running for a long time, Cheongun slowed down.

An inn appeared before his eyes, built slightly away from the bustling street.

Outwardly, it was just an ordinary inn, but from deep inside, boisterous voices could be heard loudly.

Cheongun pushed open the heavy wooden door and entered.

Inside, as expected, it was crowded.

People were packed into various seats, placing bets on the martial arts competition results, and on one side, numerous individuals were gathered, chattering while looking at the competition bracket.

Cheongun naturally headed towards the inner area where the betting counter was located.

Just then, Cheongun stopped abruptly.

Familiar faces were standing at the counter.

Among them, a man with a particularly shiny bald head met Cheongun’s gaze.

“Young Hero?”

It was Bang Jongdae, the Righteous Alliance Leader Geum Myeongju’s direct disciple, a bald monk.

At the same time, his eyes met with a woman standing behind him.

“Junior Brother Cheong!”

The precious jewel of the Namgung family.

It was Namgung Yul.