Chapter 42

The silence Dan Woo-sung created was beautiful.

It was a silence born of surprise—no one had expected this newly arrived man, this unknown man, this young man without even a sergeant’s stripe, to knock his opponent out so overwhelmingly.

To Cheol Myeong-ho, this meaningful silence was beautiful too.

‘Wow… He really shut everyone up.’

The expressions on the faces of the comrades carrying away the unconscious Jo A-sol were also something to behold. They knew Dan Woo-sung had deliberately struck the floor with his fist to show mercy, so they couldn’t utter a single word.

“That was impressive!”

“I’ve never seen this guy before…?”

A few people clapped, and a few others began exchanging words with their companions. Only then did the silence break, and the atmosphere finally felt like a proper eve celebration. Even the late-stage disciples of the clans and sects exchanged glances, shrugging their shoulders as if they too didn’t know Dan Wuxing’s true identity.

Of course, if warriors from the Murong and Gu family clans had been present, they could have explained who Dan Wuxing was. But the Gu family was keeping a low profile due to Gu Yingsheng, and the Murong family, too, had no leeway to participate in such a grand gathering like this Dragon-Phoenix Banquet because of their missing former clan head.

Thus, Dan Woosung was a young powerhouse who had suddenly appeared.

Would anyone dare challenge him again?

The late-stage contestants eyeing the championship watched Danwooseong with keen interest, though naturally, none intended to participate in the eve event. To claim victory, one must be in peak physical condition.

Ultimately, a challenger seeking fame quietly stepped forward from the opposite side of where Dan Woo-sung was looking.

This man’s reason for stepping forward was simple.

Although Dan Wooseong had easily subdued Jo A-sol, he had confirmed she possessed no weapon. This was his reasoning.

‘He looks quite strong, but the limitations of his fist technique are clear. And he isn’t even wearing fist armor? His arrogance is excessive.’

He was persuading himself that his thoughts and judgment about Moo Hak were sound enough to act upon here.

The man wielding the swift sword introduced himself.

“I am Yeon Ibo of the Boundless Sword Style, from Hamnyeong.”

In the martial world, it wasn’t just sects that existed; there were also schools that introduced themselves like this. It wasn’t common.

Dan Woo-seong stated only his three-character name concisely.

Yeon Ibo drew the twin swords strapped to his back with a simultaneous swish-swish sound and asked.

“You don’t even have armor. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Dan Woo-sung replied, arms crossed.

“It’s fine.”

At that moment, a man who had been perched diagonally on the window sill of the lodging, watching the scene, interjected in a voice charged with inner strength.

“······Everyone, I apologize for interrupting.”

The voice was clear, causing everyone’s gaze to turn toward one building. Where they looked, the young master of the Chupungnakyeop Hwa Eun-wol clan was fluttering his fan.

Huayue closed her fan and addressed the center of the stage.

“······I wish to present our family’s gauntlets to the master of the fist. Not the offensive kind with metal attachments, but protective ones that simply shield the hands. What do you two think?”

Hwa Eun-wol asked the parties involved, but the onlookers answered.

“Present it!”

“Agreed! That would be fair!”

Danwooseong watched the falling leaves and smiled faintly. It wasn’t strictly necessary, but refusing such an offer wouldn’t look good either.

Yeon Iboh’s expression turned reluctant, but he spoke as if he would readily agree, swayed by the atmosphere.

“What’s the problem? I don’t want the Confucius here to get hurt either. I’ll wait, so deliver it.”

Yeon Ibog glared at Hwa Eunwol for a moment.

‘Damn meddler…’

Hua Enyue, the young master, looked toward the crowd of onlookers and ordered his retainers.

“Yalu, bring the armor.”

A man took the armor from the young master and replied.

“Yes, understood.”

The stern-faced man strode purposefully toward Danwooseong and extended a pair of gloves whose material was difficult to discern.

They appeared thin and elastic, clearly designed solely for hand protection. They were the gauntlets used by participants in the Hwasegga Clan’s Dragon Phoenix Grand Tournament, which he had brought along.

“I’ll put it to good use.”

Dan Woo-sung put on his gloves and expressed his gratitude to the man named Yalu Seong and to the young master of Chupungnakyeop.

“Young master, thank you for your consideration.”

Hwa Eun-wol replied with a sly smile.

“Not at all.”

Cheol Myeong-ho approached, glancing around, and whispered to Dan Woo-seong.

“Hey, isn’t this thing poisoned or something? Are your hands okay?”

Dan Woosung retorted to Cheol Myeongho’s meddling.

“Think before you speak. Martial artists have sharper ears than you.”

“Oh, really?”

Cheol Myeong-ho glanced at Hwa Eun-wol with a slightly tense expression, and Hwa Eun-wol burst out laughing as she looked back at him.

“Master Umbrella, you were quite impressive too. So you two were friends, were you?”

Cheolmyeongho gave an awkward smile and took a bow.

Hwa Eun-wol watched the two with a faint smile, suddenly forming this conjecture.

‘So your master is the young master of the Galaxy Trading Company. Friends who are also masters? Both of you are peculiar fellows. What an interesting martial world.’

Hwa Eun-wol’s keen insight was truly ghostly in its sharpness.

Dan Woo-sung walked to the center and extended a hand.

“Let’s begin.”

Yan Yibo assumed his stance with twin swords.

The left sword assumed a defensive stance, while the right sword positioned itself for attack. There was no room for half-heartedness in this contest. Even if it was merely a pre-tournament event, to win meant inflicting serious injury on the opponent—or, if luck was unfavorable, even death. A duel offered no absolute guarantee of survival.

Yeon Yibo steeled his resolve before launching his first strike. He slashed Dan Woosung’s shoulder with his right sword, swept downward at the lower body with his left sword, spun once, then accelerated further to unleash a swift sword strike.

The twin swords and twin blades had seen more schools and styles than any era before.

Of course, it was the legacy and influence left behind by Jin Sohwan, who had ascended to the pinnacle of martial arts using the twin swords. Even in the martial world, trends existed, and the Muryang Sword Style was a school that had been influenced by them.

Dan Woosung moved before the sword even reached its striking point. Reading the descending shoulder, the direction of the swing, the position of the hand, and the intent of the footwork, he dodged the twin swords.

Having briefly created distance, Dan Woosung spread his hands wide and glared at Yeon Ibo. It was time to practice combining his body techniques with the Iwa Shin Gong.

Dan Woo-sung regarded the entire Dragon-Phoenix Grand Assembly period, including the eve celebration, as his training ground.

With many watching, he was careful not to reveal his full strength.

As Danwooseong swiftly closed in, Yeon Ibo, unable to discern his intent, crossed his twin blades and swung them forward seven or eight times. True to his fast-sword-using sect, his strikes were dazzlingly swift.

Cheol Myeong-ho, watching from the sidelines, rubbed his forearm.

Goosebumps rose on his skin.

Had he been standing there, he would have been struck by all seven or eight blows by now, his body already torn to shreds.

Unlike before, many things were now evoked by the opponent’s movements.

But Yeon Ibo’s swift sword was deflected by Dan Wooseong’s Five-Element Sword Technique, grazing his body with only hair’s breadth to spare.

Yeon Ibo, having launched the attack himself, was now startled and flustered by Dan Wooseong’s footwork and evasion skills.

‘He’s a master.’

No simpler words could describe the situation.

Yan Yibo altered his basic stance with his twin swords, swiftly shifting seventy percent to defense and thirty percent to offense whenever he detected Dan Wuseong’s approaching movements.

Then, startled, Yeon Ibo leapt into the air. Danwooseong, lowering his upper body, charged in with an odd footwork that seemed to slide, then lashed out fiercely with his right foot as if sweeping the floor.

But only after soaring into the air did Yeon I-bo realize that the lower-body attack had been psychological warfare to set up the next strike.

‘Ah!’

Yeon Yibo aimed his left sword at Dan Wooseong and threw his right sword in a surprise attack.

Swoosh!

There was no choice.

Using dual swords allowed him this countermeasure.

The surging power and speed meant any half-hearted attack would likely result in his sword or arm being seized.

Dan Wooseong precisely seized the hilt of the flying sword with his left hand, then swung it in a changed direction. With a clang, Yeon Ibo’s sword flew away.

Having lost both swords in an instant, Yeon Yi-bo, seemingly determined not to lose a warrior’s pride, thrust forward once, kicking off the ground, and thrust out his double fists.

Dan Woosung’s counterplay that followed resembled the movements of the Wudang sect.

Using the Flower-Twirling Palm, he wrapped Yeon Yibo’s hands around each other, then stepped back, twisting them violently left and right.

Yan Yibo’s body seemed to tumble, floating up before spinning three or four times in midair with a sharp whir, then crashing to the floor with a thud.

Before Yeon-ibo could even get up, Dan-wooseong stomped his right foot next to Yeon-ibo’s head.

Crack!

Yeon Ibo, who had been trying to rise, stared at Dan Wooseong’s foot in an awkward position. Looking at the spot where his foot had struck, the ground was gouged out. His breath finally caught in his throat. He had nearly died.

At that moment, Dan Wooseong helped Yeon Yibo to his feet.

“Young Master Yeon, are you alright?”

Yeon Yibo snapped back to his senses with a startled expression and unconsciously replied in formal speech.

“Ah, I’m fine.”

Once the outcome was decided, instead of silence, cheers erupted from the pre-event gathering, as if everyone had just witnessed a splendid martial arts duel.

Since no one was injured, the spectators’ relieved hearts also played a part. Loud applause rang out from all around.

Yeon Ibo said to Dan Woo-sung, who was supporting him, with a flushed expression.

“I’ve learned a valuable lesson.”

“It was a good sparring match.”

Yeon I-bo replied with a smile.

“I’ll be rooting for the Yongbong Grand Assembly.”

Dan Woosung gave a faint smile and nodded slightly toward Yeon Ibong.

The man hosting the eve ceremony walked out, fan in hand. He tapped his palm several times with the fan, drawing everyone’s attention.

“······As the host of this eve celebration, I shall forbid the martial arts of Confucius, who has departed this world.”

As boos erupted from all sides, the host chuckled and said.

“That won’t do. I inquired with the Martial Alliance members, and they said you are the eldest son of the Galaxy Merchant Guild. You are a young hero participating in the Dragon Phoenix Grand Tournament finals. The stage where the strong must fight should be far more splendid than the eve celebration. What do you think, young master?”

Dan Woo-sung retorted.

“This is where we draw the line.”

The host bowed to Dan Woo-seong and said.

“We shall meet at the Dragon-Phoenix Grand Tournament finals.”

Dan Woosung nodded to Cheol Myeongho and said.

“I’ll secure lodging for you first.”

Cheol Myeong-ho replied as if relieved.

“Let’s go.”

When Cheolmyeongho passed by, not a single person moved out of the way.

But as Danwooseong began to walk, the crowd naturally parted to make way. Cheolmyeongho muttered under his breath, his face flushed with anger.

“Being weak is the crime. They’re criminals. Parting like the sea to make way for him? This is fucking ridiculous.”

Dan Woosung smacked Cheol Myeong-ho on the head and said.

“Watch your mouth.”

As people watched, Cheol Myeong-ho deliberately replied in a loud voice.

“Yes, Master, please stop hitting my head.”

“You lunatic, what do you mean ‘Master’…”

As the onlookers stared at Danwooseong and Cheolmyeongho, Danwooseong found himself blushing uncontrollably, his entire face turning bright red.

He’d just been hit by Cheol Myeong-ho.

Whether it was a misunderstanding or not, he had become the kind of man who would smack his disciple’s head, making it a truly embarrassing situation.

Dan Wooseong said.

“I get it, so just shut up.”

Cheol Myeong-ho deliberately replied with even greater politeness.

“Yes, I’ll keep my mouth shut from now on.”

At that moment, Cheol Myeong-ho gained a profound realization. He now understood that in crowded places, he wouldn’t get hit by his friend.

It was truly fortunate.

Hwa Eun-wol, perched by the window of the lodging like a fallen autumn leaf, watched this scene intently, a faint smile playing on her lips.

ⓒ Yoo Jin-seong

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