Chapter 37

Dan Woo-sung waited silently until Baek Han-kyung calmed down before asking about the man across from them.

“…Could it be that he came here because he’s connected to Gu Yangsheng? He’s affiliated with the Emperor’s Association and is the young master of the So family.”

Baek Han-gyeong replied.

“I don’t know him. The Imperial Association has been expanding constantly lately. I wouldn’t know which family’s young master he is. He’s not here because of Gu Yangsheng; he’s probably gathered here for the Dragon Phoenix Grand Banquet. Sometimes people arrive early to build connections. It’s not common for late-stage cultivators to gather in one place like this.”

“Ah, the Dragon-Phoenix Grand Gathering.”

Dan Woo-sung chuckled softly.

Baek Han-kyung suddenly glanced at the building across the street. Fortunately, the fallen leaves were scattered about. Still, as if to be cautious, he lowered his voice and said,

“They might have come for the Dragon-Phoenix Grand Assembly. Or perhaps just to see the phoenix.”

Dragon referred to the male late-stage index, while phoenix meant the female late-stage index. He was implying they might have come just to see the beauties.

Dan Woo-sung smiled and said.

“In any case, it’s clear the Martial Alliance and the Emperor’s Association are not on good terms.”

“Well, it’s nothing new.”

I had heard about the Dragon-Phoenix Grand Assembly once from Gu Yangsheng. After Gu Yangsheng joined the Emperor’s Assembly, he had suggested to Dan Woosung that the Dragon-Phoenix Grand Assembly participate.

Baek Han-gyeong looked at Dan Woo-seong.

“Well, it wasn’t because of the Dragon-Phoenix Grand Assembly that I summoned Your Highness. In any case, the event being prepared will proceed without a hitch. Might Your Highness also be interested in the Dragon-Phoenix Grand Assembly? You are young and your martial prowess is outstanding, so you perfectly meet the qualifications for participation.”

Dan Wooseong cut him off sharply.

“No.”

Baek Han-gyeong tilted his head.

“You have no interest in fame?”

Dan Woosung nodded as he sipped his tea. He believed fame wasn’t built that way.

If you become strong, fame will spread on its own.

There was no need to beat up up-and-comers to gain fame. He wanted to spar with the strongest opponents whenever possible.

Baek Han-kyung spoke as if surprised.

Of course, not everyone participates solely for fame. In truth, it’s a festival that even late-stage cultivators like the Crown Prince—who care nothing for renown—flock to. Why? Naturally, it’s for the elixir the winner receives. From the Martial Alliance’s perspective, success is key, so they wouldn’t offer a shoddy elixir. The champion receives the highest-grade elixir, approved by the Alliance Leader himself. He’s not one to skimp on investments for the younger generation…”

Baek Han-kyung took a sip of tea while looking at Dan Woo-sung as if to say, “Still not interested?”

Dan Woosung replied curtly.

“I’ll participate.”

Baek Han-kyung involuntarily spat out the tea he was drinking.

“Phew…”

It was a tense moment, so close that he nearly spat it onto the Crown Prince’s face. Baek Han-kyung wiped around his mouth with a flustered expression and said.

“Ah, my apologies.”

“It’s fine.”

“Your Highness changed your mind so quickly…”

“No need to blame yourself. Everyone makes mistakes. I’m no exception. Anyway, why don’t you tell me about the elixir first?”

Baek Han-gyeong replied.

“Indeed, when it comes to large-scale endeavors, popularity seems crucial. Even the Grand Prince, who cares little for fame, readily agreed to participate. Well, the importance of the elixir to warriors is beyond words. I understand.”

Dan Woo-seong looked around the street.

Come to think of it, there were also many martial artists visible, and young men and women were also seen in great numbers on the streets. Seeing the Grand Prince of the Eunha Trading Company gawking around like a country bumpkin, Baek Han-gyeong remarked,

“Surely Your Highness doesn’t think you could easily defeat all late-stage cultivators?”

“You never know the outcome until you compete, so I don’t dwell on such thoughts.”

Baek Han-kyung offered this advice with a faint smile.

“The Yongbong Grand Tournament is also a proxy battle for the top masters. Their disciples often participate as well. Though it’s a tournament limited to late-stage practitioners, the level is by no means low.”

Dan Woo-seong nodded.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Let’s depart.”

After seizing the merit together, the two men suddenly grew talkative. Yet, as if they weren’t quite ready to address each other as brothers, their titles remained stiffly formal: ‘Prince’ and ‘White Warrior’.

After walking a short distance…

The group from the Imperial Association, who had been walking ahead, came back into view.

Baek Han-gyeong said to Dan Woo-seong with a sour expression.

“Your Highness, the Martial Alliance is not far now. Since we’re returning anyway, let’s try sprinting from here using lightness skills.”

Dan Woo-sung nodded.

“Let’s do that.”

Baek Han-gyeong extended his hand to Dan Woo-sung and said.

“You go first.”

Dan Woo-sung extended his hand in response, saying as if to say no way.

“Don’t refuse. Go ahead. I’ve never lost a race using lightness skill.”

Baek Han-kyung chuckled with a smile.

“The reason this old woman was assigned the mission to go to the Galaxy Trading Guild and return with the Crown Prince is because even in the Mansion, it’s rumored that this old woman’s feet are exceptionally swift. You go ahead first.”

“Let’s just depart together.”

“Let’s go, then.”

Baek Han-gyeong and Dan Woo-seong simultaneously unleashed their lightness skills, splitting to the left and right of the Emperor’s Association group as they dashed off.

Naturally, a faint cloud of dust rose.

Watching them while fluttering his fan, the Young Master of the Falling Leaves Pavilion remarked,

“Those two are quietly getting on my nerves. You two follow slowly. I’ll teach them a lesson in what lightness skill truly is.”

“Young Master, please teach them a lesson!”

“What a bunch of jerks. Look at them deliberately kicking up this dust storm.”

The young master of Chupungnakyeop snapped his fan shut with a loud thud and began chasing after the two, deploying his lightness skill.

Moments later, the three of them raced like a whirlwind down a quiet road, having left the bustling district behind.

The young master of a great clan, a martial artist of the Martial Alliance, and the eldest son of a merchant guild were running together—it was no ordinary sight.

But what was truly uncommon was that the merchant house’s young master was the fastest.

Danwooseong was facing the wind at the front, maintaining a suitable distance. He kept just enough space to remain visible, knowing that too great a gap might leave the two feeling desolate.

‘Emperor’s Reminiscence, Martial Alliance—hurry up and catch up. You lot…’

But why was that Falling Leaves guy putting himself through this? His lightness skill was quite fast, but Baek Han-gyeong’s lightness skill was no less impressive. The two were fighting a bloody battle, giving it their all as if they’d met their perfect match.

They had no other choice.

Unlike the lightheartedness I felt at the start, I’m now running to avoid finishing last. After all, overtaking the Grand Prince of the Galactic Union was something the two of us gave up on not long after we started running.

The race wasn’t over, but their goal was second place.

Finishing last would render their earlier psychological warfare meaningless, making it all the more crucial. With the honor of the Imperial Association and the Martial Arts Alliance at stake, they were running desperately, as if their very lives depended on it.

.

.

.

Around the time Dan Woo-sung set off again for the Martial Arts Alliance…

Cheolmyeongho, the lone wolf, was lurking around the Galaxy Trading Company. Fortunately, he encountered Chief Manager Ihwaeon returning from an external assignment, along with an unfamiliar man escorting him.

Though he was the younger brother of a friend he hadn’t seen in ages, Cheolmyeongho boldly called out to him.

“Hey there, Chief.”

Lee Hwa-eon narrowed his eyes and looked at Cheolmyeong-ho.

“Who are you?”

He didn’t seem to recognize him. Cheolmyeong-ho showed him the scar on his cheek and said.

“Why don’t you recognize me? It’s Cheolmyeong-ho.”

Lee Hwa-eon replied with a reluctant expression.

“Ah, Brother Ho-ri, what brings you here?”

“What’s the matter? I’ve come to see your brother. Please send word. I have something important to discuss.”

Lee Hwa-eon said it as if he were deeply sorry.

“But my brother isn’t home.”

“That can’t be. He made an appointment with me—how could he be away?”

“What promise?”

Cheol Myeong-ho blinked his eyes for a moment.

‘…Ten thousand downward strikes, you little bastard.’

For some reason, he didn’t want to tell him.

Cheol Myeong-ho asked.

“Is where he went a secret?”

Lee Hwa-eon replied.

“Well, it’s not exactly a secret. He went because he had business with the Martial Alliance.”

“No, why the Martial Alliance! Why there! Why on earth! When and why!”

Cheol Myeong-ho bellowed, and Yi Hwa-eon calmly replied.

“Brother, you had circumstances that forced you to leave suddenly. If it’s truly important, you should chase after him and discuss it. Well then, Brother Hori, I’m busy, so I’ll take my leave.”

Li Hua’an gave Cheol Myeong-ho a slight bow before entering the Eunha Trading Company first. The remaining bodyguard then looked at Cheol Myeong-ho for a moment before silently entering the Eunha Trading Company as well.

The character for “Alliance” was engraved on his back.

‘Martial Alliance?’

Cheolmyeongho bellowed.

“When is the Crown Prince coming back?”

“No set date!”

At Lee Hwa-eon’s words, Cheol Myeong-ho slapped his own forehead. Glaring inward at the Galaxy Trading Company, he said.

“Hey! Listen up! I told you guys if the Prince didn’t tell me about the next shipment, I’d take a shit right in front of the gate. Did you hear that? Didn’t you? Hey, you little bastards!”

Cheol Myeong-ho muttered as he turned away.

“……Who am I talking to?”

Cheol Myeong-ho sighed.

‘Did I wait too long? Oh well.’

Cheol Myeong-ho muttered absentmindedly.

“Since it’s come to this, I’ll storm the Martial Alliance.”

I couldn’t help but be curious.

I made a very simple plan: head to the Martial Alliance, find this bastard, and then ask him about it. Then I set off immediately. My curiosity was truly relentless.

He planned to chase after him as quickly as possible, riding horses, taking boats, and even hitching rides on carriages.

Suddenly, Cheolmyeongho picked up his black iron umbrella as if by habit and swung it vertically down at the air. A booming sound followed. His movements were quite disciplined now, allowing him to unfold it much more easily than before.

“······One hundred thousand, two hundred and three.”

Cheolmyeongho said with a serious expression.

Anyway, the bastards I hate most in this world are the ones who start to say something but then don’t. They really took me for a fool. Eh, no. I’m not a fool—I’m a poisonous bastard.

Having achieved a hundred thousand downward strikes, the martial master Cheolmyeongho headed for the Martial Alliance. He was determined to track down the young master who had put him through hell and then left without a word. Martial Alliance or whatever, it didn’t matter. Whether he went to Shaolin Temple, the Demon Sect, or the Amipha Sect, he was going to chase after him and ask.

What comes after the downward strike, you ask…

Danwooseong, oblivious to the situation, kept telling him to do it thirty thousand times or fifty thousand times over, and Cheolmyeongho, the stubborn bastard, was so frustrated he could have exploded.

ⓒ Yoo Jin-seong

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