Chapter 45

When Hwa Eun-wol glared at him, Dokgo Han, feeling displeased, retorted like this.

“Can you stand by that statement?”

“If you’re willing to take responsibility, you must have something interesting to say. Go ahead.”

“I’ll wager ten thousand taels of my personal fortune that the winner will come from either the Martial Alliance or the Emperor’s Council. The notary will be Namgung Wi, who’s on bad terms with me. What do you say?”

As Dugu Han placed his wager, Hua Yue responded, fluttering her fan.

“Ten thousand taels? Let’s add another ten thousand on top of that—make it thirty thousand taels. I’ll also appoint Namgung Wi as the notary, since we’re not on good terms either. Seems Namgung Wi is a useful man after all.”

Dugu Han chuckled.

“Does the Hua family have that much spare cash?”

“Why are you suddenly worried about me? I’m the head of the household.”

Dokgo Han, who had yet to be recognized as the successor, rose with a look of sheer fury and glared down at Hwa Eun-wol.

“Prince Hwa, thanks to you, I have even more reason to strive harder. My thanks.”

“Not at all. I wish you luck.”

Dukgo Han grabbed his sword and turned to leave, leaving these words behind.

“Better get your money ready.”

Watching Dugu Han fan himself as he walked away, Hua Enyue smiled.

‘What a pain. You bastard.’

Hwa Eun-wol also staked everything on this gamble. While Dokgo Han and Namgung Wi seemed manageable, Dan Woo-seong’s end was unpredictable, making it a gamble to jump into.

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.

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“Please tell us the pseudonym or alias you wish to have written on your nameplate.”

Arriving at the reception desk guided by Baek Han-gyeong, Dan Woo-seong glanced at the nameplate held by the attendant and replied.

“You said an alias or nickname is acceptable?”

Maeng Won, holding a brush, explained.

“Of course. You don’t need to write your real name for the preliminary round.”

Dan Woo-sung looked at the nameplate.

He wanted to write the epithet ‘King of Power’. He couldn’t do that. Because the current Danwooseong had not yet surpassed his past self. It would have been disrespectful to the epithet ‘King’.

Maeng-won smiled and said.

“Write whatever you like. Bring back three nameplates from other participants, and you’ll advance to the finals. Then, come back here to register.”

Danwooseong said.

“Write ‘Fistmaster’ for me.”

Meng Yuan wrote the nickname ‘Fist Master’ on the nameplate with a thin brush. Meng Yuan handed over the nameplate and said.

“Good luck.”

“Thank you.”

Maengwon watched Danwooseong heading toward the preliminary arena for a moment. He found the nickname “Kwon-gaek” intriguing, as he’d never heard it before. Since “swordsman” was a common term, it wasn’t an unusual nickname per se.

‘I get the feeling he’ll pass the preliminary round.’

Having registered so many people, even this low-ranking Myeongwon had developed a certain intuition.

When Dan Woo-sung arrived at the preliminary venue, participants were scattered about the waiting area. Some were resting after their victories, while others, still tense, hesitated to step forward. There was a man who had come all this way just to sit cross-legged and calm his mind, and others who were running in place, seemingly determined to work up a sweat.

At that moment, near the waiting area, a referee scolded a participant in an exasperated voice.

“Hey! That match was decided earlier!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Medical team, come in quickly. The bleeding is severe.”

It was the voice of someone quite old.

At that moment, a sharp crack echoed, and the participant pleaded in a desperate voice.

“No! Referee!”

The elderly judge had apparently broken the participant’s nameplate.

“You lack both the skill and character to advance to the finals. You’re disqualified. If you cause any more disturbance, I’ll have no choice but to call security. Now leave quietly.”

The murmurs in the waiting room grew louder.

“But I won! How can this be? Please, have mercy. I came all the way from Shanxi.”

The judge barked.

“This is the Martial Arts Alliance! Disqualified! Out!”

The old man was truly hot-tempered.

Dan Woo-sung couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘What a temper.’

When Dan Woo-sung presented his name tag to the security guard, he was immediately escorted.

“This way, please.”

Stepping into the corridor veiled by white screens, Dan Woo-sung inquired.

“Could we perhaps go to where that referee who was shouting was?”

“Huh? Ah, sure, no problem.”

Meng Yuan scratched his head, then guided Dan Woosung to the preliminary martial arts stage where the old man shouting had been.

Dan Wooseong pushed aside the screen and entered, bowing respectfully to the elderly referee with snow-white hair.

The old referee’s expression was stern, as if it read, ‘I am a stubborn old man.’ He seemed like a man who had spent many years in the Martial Arts Alliance, marked by sincerity and obstinacy.

Though Old Judge didn’t know who Dan Woo-sung was, he returned the greeting politely and extended his hand.

“Young man, hand over your nameplate.”

“Yes.”

The old judge read the name on the nameplate.

“A guest of honor, I wish you good fortune.”

“Thank you.”

As Dan Woo-sung turned away, a participant guided from another waiting area immediately entered the stage and handed their nameplate to the old judge.

As the old referee read the nameplate in a stiff tone, his gaze wavered slightly.

“Seven Moves to Ascend to Heaven, I pray for good fortune.”

Suddenly, the stubborn old man clenched his teeth, perhaps finding the nickname amusing. The black-clad figure, a sword tucked in his chest, turned around. Upon belatedly spotting Danwooseong, his eyes widened.

“Gasp!”

The old referee spoke.

“Injuries resulting from the contest are unavoidable, but if one intentionally harms their opponent…”

Before the old referee could finish, the man in black spoke.

“…I withdraw.”

The old referee’s eyebrows shot up.

“What? Why?”

The old master would slip into informal speech whenever he got excited. Truth be told, he was a senior figure in the martial world from a bygone era, so no one would dare complain even if he spoke informally.

The man in black spoke.

“Ah, I saw my opponent’s skill at the eve tournament. My own skill is lacking.”

The old referee glared, scrutinizing the man in black from head to toe before bellowing.

“Get out! You’re disqualified! Come back in ten years! What kind of attitude is that for participating in the Dragon-Phoenix Grand Tournament! Do you think the Dragon-Phoenix Grand Tournament is a joke!”

“Why are you angry…”

“Get out!”

As Dan Woo-sung crossed his arms, the challenger left with a sullen expression.

The old judge snorted and declared.

“Challenger, your opponent has forfeited. You win by default. Will you rest or continue?”

“I’ll keep going.”

“Well, there’s no time to rest anyway. There are plenty of lunatics this year too.”

The referee ordered the attendant waiting outside.

“Bring in the next participant.”

While waiting briefly, the old referee stared intently at Danwooseong.

‘Hmm, young but definitely a strong contender.’

But perhaps unable to quell his anger from the previous participant, he muttered to himself.

“There are so many fools out there, you understand. ‘Ascending to the Heavens in Seven Steps’? ‘Returning to the Heavens in Seven Steps’ would suit him better.”

This time, Dan Wooseong clenched his teeth slightly.

The old man cleared his throat habitually and asked,

“Hmm, judging by your face, you don’t seem the type to show off your strength at the pre-festival gathering.”

It was a question about how he had performed at the eve festival.

Dan Woo-sung replied.

“Do you read faces too?”

“Well, with age comes a certain insight.”

“I stepped in because I thought an acquaintance was about to get beaten up.”

“Ah.”

The old man’s expression suddenly changed, as if he were finally satisfied.

“Well done. That’s the attitude of a martial artist who trains in the ways of the world.”

Dan Woo-seong smiled as he looked at the old master.

Occasionally, even the White Path faction would enrage the King of Power to the point of trembling. This time, it was like the Gu Yang family. Yet, because of these old masters and the chivalrous figures who often appeared, it was impossible to truly hate the White Path.

The next participant entered and handed his nameplate to Judge Luo.

The old referee declared.

“Life-Stealing Demon Staff, I wish you luck. I won’t permit withdrawal.”

The Life-Stealing Demon Staff, with his hair hanging down in disarray, tilted his head and retorted.

“Pardon?”

“Are your ears not working? I said there is no withdrawal.”

“Ah, I had no such intention.”

The old referee said.

“Alright. That’s more like it. Exchange greetings, and let’s begin.”

Tal Myeong-gwa-jang looked like a beggar from the Open Sect, and since he hadn’t seen the eve ceremony, he felt no emotion upon seeing Danwooseong. He maintained a polite expression, then pointed his crooked staff at Danwooseong and asked.

“Are you ready?”

Dan Wooseong replied in a casual tone.

“I am.”

The Disgraced Commander narrowed his eyes.

‘Hmm.’

When it was difficult to gauge his opponent, he had no choice but to utilize the advantages of his long weapon.

Tal Myeong-gwae charged forward.

He swung his staff in a wide arc through the air, then thrust his left foot into the ground, closing the distance in an instant with a swift thrust.

Dan Woo-sung advanced a step and swiftly thrust out his right fist.

Crack!

The tip of the staff and Dan Wooseong’s fist collided directly.

Tal Myeong Gwae Jang’s eyes widened as far as they could go. Who would counter a weapon in such a brutish manner? It was astonishing. Yet, in a split second, the tip of the staff swelled and split apart. With a crack, the entire staff shattered into dozens of strands, forcing Tal Myeong Gwae Jang to stumble backward.

Tal-myeong Gwae-jang grimaced, clutching his right arm. A searing pain, like his shoulder was being torn apart, surged through him.

Then, with a startled expression, the old judge pointed a hand toward Danwooseong.

“Victory! Stop it.”

Dan Woo-sung replied curtly.

“Yes.”

The old referee asked Tal Myeong-gwae.

“Are you alright? There’s a medic outside. Let me take a look at your arm.”

“Understood.”

Tal Myeong-gwaejang walked out with a pained expression, then turned back to look at Dan Woo-seong as if suddenly remembering something.

“I’ve learned a thing or two.”

Danwooseong then returned the gesture with a respectful bow.

“I apologize for the cane.”

“Ah, no need. If it had hit you… Well, anyway.”

As the guest fighter secured his second victory, the old referee seemed in high spirits, smiling as he stroked his beard.

“That feels like a weight off my chest.”

It was not something a judge should say. He was an old man with childlike traits.

“Shall we proceed?”

“I will.”

“Good. Bring in the next opponent. And you, come here for a moment.”

The old referee called Dan Woo-seong over, then examined Kwon Gab from head to toe as he spoke.

“What is that? I’ve been in the martial world for over fifty years, but this is the first time I’ve seen such armor.”

Dan Woosung extended his hand as he replied.

“It was a gift from the young master of the Hwaseo Clan. I don’t know the exact material either.”

“May I touch it?”

“Go ahead.”

Noh Sim-pan examined Dan Woo-seong’s hand with a look of wonder.

“The material, you see. It feels almost like the celestial white silk the Baekrisega clan occasionally produced. If so, it’s incredibly precious armor. I can’t be certain, though. It probably won’t cut well with blades either.”

“Hmm.”

Hwa Eun-wol had handed it over so casually that Dan Woo-sung was the one left feeling dazed.

The next contestant entering was startled. The judge was kneading Dan Wooseong’s hand.

The old referee also looked at the participant with a startled expression.

“Hm, come in. Your nameplate.”

“Yes.”

“Nothing to worry about. Just checking your gloves.”

“Yes, understood.”

“Let me see. His nickname is the Bare-handed Prince, a martial artist?”

“Yes.”

“This should be a good match. Exchange bows and begin.”

The newly arrived challenger, the Bare-handed Prince, bowed toward Danwooseong as he spoke.

“You made quite an impression at the eve ceremony.”

The Bare-Handed Gentleman smiled with an expression brimming with confidence. Dan Wooseong returned the greeting with an impassive look.

The referee raised one hand, paused briefly, then scanned the two men before lowering his hand and declaring.

“Begin!”

Simultaneously, as if springing from their spots, both men closed the distance and unleashed their first strikes.

Boom!

The sound of a drum exploding echoed, and the enemy master flew out beyond the screen. Because Dan Woo-sung deliberately channeled his internal energy into his fist using the iron wall technique, the enemy master was knocked back by his own strength and internal energy.

Referee Noh’s mouth hung open slightly.

“Heh heh, you’re the first man in my lifetime to pass the preliminary round with just two punches.”

The old referee handed Dan Woosung three nameplates and declared in a hearty voice.

“Pass! We’ll see you in the finals!”

ⓒ Yoo Jin-seong

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