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The crowds were bustling, packed tightly together, yet undeniably, space still existed.

“Did you hear? The Sword King entered the preliminaries yesterday.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about it already. How fortunate we are not to be in the same group…”

“I can’t help but wonder what happened.”

The Pang Clan Leader had come into contact with the Hwasan Sect.

The fact that Sword King Peng Zhou was entering the martial arts tournament was enough to create a feverish excitement all around.

Thus, many were curious about what transpired on the first day the Sword King had participated.

“But even if you want to know, there’s no way to find out.”

“That’s true.”

There was no way to uncover any information.

Before entering the preliminaries, the martial artists were subject to a golden binding that forbade them from disclosing what they experienced.

Thanks to this, the other martial artists had no idea what had happened the day before.

“What difference does it make to know?”

“At the very least, they could mentally prepare themselves.”

“Regardless, since the Sword King is competing, it’s obvious he’ll win.”

The great house, known as the Four Great Clans, had a mainstay participating.

Because of that, skeptical gazes were abundant.

“Is this Clan Leader really capable of managing the Divine Dragon Sect?”

“It’s already strange for a Clan Leader to enter.”

With independent martial artists and newcomers stepping into the ring, what did it even mean for someone already renowned like a Clan Leader to participate?

Definitely, there were those who viewed it through this lens.

However,

“But there’s no rule saying a Clan Leader can’t enter. It’s merely prejudice.”

“Right. Regardless of their clan, they are still martial artists.”

Before faulting their positions, there were those who believed they were indeed capable enough.

As these opinions clashed, a debate inevitably ensued.

“Well then, does that mean the Three Eminent Beings could participate without issue?”

“Why are we even discussing them here?”

The Three Eminent Beings, those labeled as absolute beings in the Central Plains.

Would they really pay attention to such a small festival while floating in the heavens?

“For them, it would be nothing but a playground, wouldn’t it? They wouldn’t mingle with mere mortals.”

“Exactly. What would those exalted beings waste their time on such trivialities? It’s laughable.”

“What!? ”

What started as light banter began to carry emotional weight.

As all were martial artists, their rising tempers often led to conflict, but since fighting was forbidden before the tournament, a tenuous calm was maintained.

And.

A young man observing from afar stifled a cough about to burst forth.

“…Ugh.”

The young man with black hair, listening to the conversation, washed away an unknown emotion.

His name was Bi Yi-jin.

He was recognized as a Tua Pacheonmu of the Bi Clan.

Moreover, he was referred to as the former Pejon.

“A playground, huh.”

The biting remark had him swallowing a chuckle.

It was true.

Children still running around on the muddy ground.

That was what Pejon had deemed the value of the martial arts tournament.

‘Hmm.’

No matter how he thought about it, he couldn’t find any enthusiasm.

Being in such a place was inherently strange for someone like Pejon.

A martial arts tournament… who would have thought he’d engage in such a thing in his life?

‘All because I took in one unsuitable disciple; what a mess this has become.’

In his later-stage talent days, tournaments would sometimes be held, but he had never experienced anything like this.

Fighting in front of countless onlookers.

He saw no difference from mere clownish antics.

He solely focused on perfecting his own martial arts.

The fights he engaged in resembled life itself.

If he won, he lived.

If he lost, he died.

That was a repetitive life of conflict for Pejon.

The heart of Pejon was thus.

A fist must contain sincerity.

Such antics did not embody any sincerity.

That was how Pejon viewed the situation, yet…

“Tsk.”

Despite these thoughts, he found himself present at this location.

What could he do?

‘It’s all because of the weird disciple I took in.’

It was frustrating that the one disciple he hardly managed to acquire was so unstable that the master needed to step in.

But also,

‘It’s surprisingly not bad.’

Despite his discontent, he felt intrigued.

The heated atmosphere filled with martial artists around him.

He too was beginning to revel in the warm, passionate air.

‘There are some promising individuals.’

Pejon nodded as he took in the surrounding martial artists.

Finding them promising didn’t mean they had reached the realm.

It meant potential.

Referring to those who showed the trademark signs of talent.

As they gathered from every corner of the Central Plains, there were indeed many promising talents, yet with every glance…

‘Still, none compare to that guy.’

No one matched his disciple in merit.

Not in physical prowess nor in the glint in their eyes.

‘Tsk.’

It was somewhat pleasurable to think he had taken an exceptional disciple, yet the agony was underlined by realizing he had no one of that caliber.

How was it possible to end up with only such a guy?

Although a means to assuage his regrets, it was still an odd situation.

‘He’s full of secrets.’

With so much in possession, secrets abound.

His disciple was indeed such a being. Yet through it all, he found it hard to hide the strain on his face.

He often wondered but decided not to nitpick.

‘The important part is whether he can fulfill my regrets or not.’

The end of the Tua Pacheonmu.

Could he break through the limits by breaking the boundaries?

That was all Pejon cared about, so his disciple’s secrets were immaterial.

As long as he was secretly utilized for that purpose, Pejon did not mind.

He could throw away the worthless prestige without concern.

Even if he grumbled, he had already imparted too much; it would be unreasonable to switch disciples now.

He needed a body capable of receiving the mental arts of Tua Pacheonmu and possessing the spirit to endure the required hardships to realize them.

Additionally, that body needed to be young enough for physical development in mental arts.

Finding someone who embodied such traits was no easy task.

Pejon considered himself fortunate to have found his disciple.

Of course,

‘There are somewhat similar individuals.’

Though physically meeting the conditions, they might lack in mental fortitude.

Finding them was troublesome; however, it was possible if one sought.

After all, there was one right here.

Pejon directed his gaze.

‘Shin Ryong, was it?’

The young man bathed in attention from everyone around him.

The hope of the Shaolin and a being regarded as a miracle.

That was Shin Ryong.

Seeing him caused Pejon to raise his lips.

‘Well done, raising him right.’

Unconsciously, he marveled slightly.

Although less impressive than how he felt when seeing his own disciple, this level was still remarkable.

‘It feels like looking at my younger self.’

Pejon’s youth.

The time when he heard every kind of bizarre rumor about obsession with martial arts and madness.

Even then, he was labeled a monster.

The young man’s figure resembled that time in his life.

Shin Ryong’s honed physique was akin to finely forged metal.

The aura he exuded suffused the unique brilliance of Shaolin.

Yet.

‘His eyes are dull.’

Despite the prowess he possessed, there was something empty about his gaze.

How could a young martial artist bear such eyes?

Did he suffer from some internal struggle?

Pejon thought with a slight pity as he gazed at his junior.

‘No good.’

He was likely not fit to be a disciple.

Such a conclusion made him shift his gaze away immediately.

Although labeled a rough gem, with those eyes, the end was clear.

However exhausted he might be, the desire should simmer within, yet he found it lacking; as a result, in Pejon’s view, Shin Ryong’s value was limited to that.

No interest.

With that decision, Pejon’s curiosity about Shin Ryong faded.

‘Rather, that guy in front seems more useful.’

Pejon’s gaze turned toward the young man in front of Shin Ryong.

Though he appeared physically and in rank to be beneath Shin Ryong, his eyes shone brightly.

Dressed in a white outfit adorned with plum blossom embroidery.

His close friend, acting as the main guardian of the Hwasan Sect.

‘Yeongpung.’

The Plum Blossom Sword Dragon.

He was now facing off against Shin Ryong Yu Yeon.

The weight of gazes from countless onlookers felt palpable.

In the midst of it all, the miracle of Shaolin.

Shin Ryong was preparing to face the individual before him.

A fragrant floral scent grazed his nostrils.

As he sensed that unknown fragrance and gazed ahead, someone stood there.

“It’s been a while.”

A handsome man with a bright appearance offered a greeting to Shin Ryong.

“Do you remember me?”

As he flashed a cheerful smile, Shin Ryong nodded.

“Of course, I remember. The Sword Dragon Dojo…”

The Sword Dragon of Hwasan.

He was acknowledged as Hwasan’s Leading Talent and was one of five predicted to later become a Sword King.

Currently, he was one of the representatives of Late-Stage Talents.

Hearing Shin Ryong’s words, Yeongpung smiled with delight.

“Oh my, I was hoping you would remember… I’m at a loss for words here.”

At the awkward remark from Yeongpung, Shin Ryong was about to reply.

“Of course I would remember… after getting beat up and rolled around like that.”

“It was a bit shabby, wasn’t it? You ended up eating dirt.”

“If I think back to that time, it’s embarrassing.”

The other disciples of Hwasan, standing behind Yeongpung, chimed in excitedly.

Hearing that, Yeongpung’s expression soured.

“…My dear seniors…”

When he turned to look, the men responded with shocked expressions.

“Wow, look at that guy. Is he staring at us? Bro, this can’t be right, can it?”

“The hierarchical order of Hwasan has fallen down to the ground. Must have fallen when that dirt was rolled around.”

“In my day, I couldn’t even lift my head for shame after losing. Look at that guy, brazen as can be. Ugh.”

“…”

As their relentless teasing continued, Yeongpung wiped his face in frustration.

Yeongpung’s “Sa Baek.”

In other words, the second generation disciples of Hwasan were heckling him.

The reason they were so persistent with Yeongpung was because of a friendly match that had occurred about a year ago with Shaolin.

That was when Yeongpung faced off against Shin Ryong, and the Sword Dragon lost.

“It wasn’t just a loss; according to today’s youth, it was utterly trounced.”

“Trampled? It was like being stomped on flour dough.”

“I’d be embarrassed to mention I was from Hwasan after that….”

“Didn’t lose that badly, did I?”

Unable to endure it, Yeongpung snapped back, and the Hwasan disciples burst into laughter.

What on earth was going on?

Yu Yeon was left utterly flabbergasted, staring at the situation before him.

He had come to offer greetings, but the atmosphere from the other sect felt suffocating.

Moreover, why on earth had Yeongpung come to greet him?

Why would the one who defeated him be greeting him?

‘Could it be to assert dominance?’

On one hand, he pondered that might be the case, while on the other, he inadvertently tuned into the ongoing conversation.

“It was a fair fight, and you certainly didn’t lose humbly…”

“Hmm, so you lost, right?”

“…”

“Bottom line, you lost, right? You went all out yet crumbled before the Plum Blossom Leaf against the Hundred Steps Divine Power?”

“And afterward, you got called out by your master and ripped apart, I saw it!”

“…Really? Your master, Shin Seok, summoned Yeongpung and berated him?”

“Yes. I saw Yeongpung on his knees before Shin Seok on the back mountain.”

“Ugh, how embarrassing… Yeongpung just yield! Just leave—I’ll let you.”

“Ha ha ha!”

“…Sa Baek. Please.”

Yeongpung wore a terrible expression as he looked at the second-generation disciples who were quite literally past their adulthood.

Yet, they remained amused.

What’s so amusing about the representative of the Three Great Disciples being defeated by Shaolin?

Yu Yeon couldn’t fathom that.

While being mercilessly mocked, one of the second-generation disciples turned to Yeongpung and began to speak.

“After all that, he still claims to have succeeded the Master’s teachings—”

“That idiot.”

Thwack!

“Ugh!”

Someone swung down fiercely onto the head of the young disciple about to speak.

It was none other than Maehwa Yeonggyeom, the strongest among the second-generation disciples and one of the prominent masters representing Hwasan.

“Watch your mouth. How far do you think you can go?”

Having watched from a distance, Shin Hyeon clicked his tongue.

It was fine to be excited, but careless words could have caused serious trouble.

Especially mentioning Yeongpung’s secret would have been an enormous mistake.

“…I’m sorry, Senior.”

The young disciple who had been speaking acknowledged his own mistake and promptly apologized.

“Apologies should be given to me. We are in the presence of none other than our Sect Leader.”

At Shin Hyeon’s words, the reprimanded disciple appeared shocked.

His eyes moved quickly behind the crowd to locate the old man standing alone, away from the muscular second-generation disciples.

The elder drew far more attention than Yu Yeon and Yeongpung combined.

The 16th Sect Leader of Hwasan, known as the Seven Steel Three Powers—Maehwa Seon Dohwa.

The elder’s true identity was indeed that.

The chastised disciple approached the elder cautiously and offered a bow.

“Sect Leader… I apologize. My disciple has misbehaved…”

During the repeated apologies, the disciple suddenly realized that Maehwa Seon was not facing him.

“Sect… Sect Leader…?”

He tentatively called out to the elder, more times than he needed, and only then did Maehwa Seon respond.

“Ah.”

Perhaps realizing he was being summoned too late, Maehwa Seon smiled gently.

“I’m sorry I didn’t hear you. I was joyfully reminiscing about an acquaintance.”

“Acquaintance? You know someone here?”

Immediately, the disciples’ gazes shifted to where Maehwa Seon had been looking.

Amidst the throng observing them, he had a particular focus, though they had no idea whom he was observing.

At that moment.

“…A disciple from Shaolin pays his respects to the Sect Leader.”

Shin Ryong stepped forward, bowing to Maehwa Seon.

The other disciples followed suit.

Even as they exchanged greetings, Shin Ryong remained perplexed.

‘Why has the Sect Leader come all the way here?’

His disciples might be here for the tournament, but what could possibly bring the Sect Leader here?

It was unfathomable, but he was at the Hwasan Sect Leader’s presence; decorum demanded he acknowledge.

“Indeed, it’s been a long time.”

Maehwa Seon wore a kind smile as he gazed at Shin Ryong.

“A child of Shaolin, you are Yu Yeon, correct?”

“…Yes. Sect Leader, I am Yu Yeon…”

As he spoke, Shin Ryong felt a warm touch above his head.

Maehwa Seon had patted his head.

“…!”

Shin Ryong’s eyes widened in shock.

“You seem to have faced many hardships at a young age. It’s tough, isn’t it?”

“Ah… n-not really…”

“Nonsense. You are at a stage where you should be enjoying yourself. I hope you can create good relations with my children as well.”

“…”

Gulp.

For some inexplicable reason, Shin Ryong found himself biting his lip.

“Thank you for your kind words…”

At the moment he barely managed to articulate his response—

“Big sister! I, I envy that grandpa!”

From nowhere, a loud voice rang.

All eyes focused on the source of the ruckus.

“Bong-Soon…! You can’t do that! We’ll get scolded by the Prince…!”

A woman quickly rushed to stop the child’s impulsive declaration.

“I want to too!”

“No—! Wait…!!”

“I also want to pet the bald head!!”

With that outburst, everyone nearby had to shut their mouths in disbelief.

Especially the expressions of the Shaolin crowd turned rigid.

Had they heard that correctly? Did she just call him ‘bald head’?

Everyone regarded her with disbelief yet—

“I want to! Let me touch that shiny bald head!!”

“…Please, calm down.”

“It looks like an egg! So round!”

“Oh my, what a disaster.”

The woman with green hair attempted to cover her mortified expression as the striking black-haired girl dashed up to where Maehwa Seon and Shin Ryong were standing.

“Hello?”

“…”

With a bright greeting, Shin Ryong found himself speechless.

He couldn’t fully grasp this nonsensical situation.

“Nice to meet you.”

“…Yes…?”

“I’m Bong-Soon.”

She introduced herself casually and then asked Shin Ryong.

“Is it okay if I get to touch your head?”

“…Young lady, what are you saying…?”

Shin Ryong glanced nervously at Maehwa Seon.

“I also want to touch my big brother’s bald head! It’s my first time seeing one!”

“…!”

Those words made Shin Ryong’s heart pound wildly!

Big brother…?

She just called him big brother?

As he was shaking in a daze from the unexpected shock, other martial artists began flooding in to deter her.

“Cult Leader, what in the world are you doing?”

“Little lady… Regardless of whoever you are, it’s terribly rude to request such a thing. The deities shall grow furious!”

To wish to touch a bald head? What a fearsome yet tragic declaration.

The martial artists from Hwasan, who had just been mercilessly teasing Yeongpung, now wore expressions of sheer horror.

Yet she remained undeterred, continuing unabated.

“Is it forbidden? Just once? I’ll not ask again!”

With an earnest plea laced in her voice, the atmosphere grew thick with tension.

As Yeongpung prepared to lose his temper, all were on high alert, poised for a potential confrontation.

Finally, Yu Yeon spoke up, with a stern look on his face as he opened his mouth.

“…Feel free.”

Everyone’s attention became fixated on what the Shaolin’s Shin Ryong would retort.

 

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