The Red Moon (4)

By the time he looked, the semifinal had already ended.

“How did it go?”

At Jin-hyeon’s question, Han Cheol-sang shook his head.

“It ended quickly. The one called Heo Jang-un won.”

“I see.”

“But he seemed a bit dangerous.”

“Did he?”

“He used a rather blood-reeked sabre art. It was like he knew no other techniques. I’ve seen him fight a few times. I thought he had plenty of real combat experience, but never felt he was vicious. Now it’s different.”

Jin-hyeon looked at the arena.

There were quite a few bloodstains here and there. The Sichuan Branch workers were busily mopping them up.

Do Il-gang spoke with a badly twisted face.

“He’s a cruel man.”

“Why do you think so?”

“The gap in skill was obvious. Even so, he kept making shallow cuts all over the body, then in the end lopped off the wrist.”

Jin-hyeon knit his brows.

“So it wasn’t an accident.”

“It looked like one. With no decisive evidence, the hosts seem to have let it pass.”

It was a duel where lives could be lost to begin with. It rarely actually happened, but he’d heard of people left disabled by a stray blade.

Han Cheol-sang said evenly.

“There are many experts among the hosts as well. They’ll likely warn him behind the scenes.”

All participants agreed to the premise that they might suffer mortal wounds.

With no proof, the hosts couldn’t disqualify him by force. The Radiant Sword Festival was a venerable event and needed a good finish. Disqualifying him now would deflate the mood.

Jin-hyeon asked Seol So-ha,

“How was he?”

Caution tinged Seol So-ha’s impassive face.

“He was strong. Honestly, with my current skill I don’t think I can win.”

It was a frank self-assessment. But she had not given up the match.

“In contests there are always upsets. It is not the strong that wins. It is the winner that is strong. I’ll enter determined to win.”

Jin-hyeon nodded.

“That’s enough. But if Brother Han says this much, you should be very careful.”

“I will bear it in mind. I watched the duel as well.”

“Good.”

Any more talk would only make Seol So-ha tense.

“When is the final?”

“Since both of us still have our stamina and internal energy intact, the final is set for two hours from now.”

Jin-hyeon nodded.

“I’ll wish you victory.”

“Thank you.”

“How about you, Yeo-wol? Is it in your body yet?”

He meant the Three Yang Heart Method. Im Yeo-wol smiled faintly.

“I haven’t converted it to True Qi yet, but the circulation method is completely in my body.”

“That art is worth reviewing even after you become a master who speaks of the world. It’s that good, so don’t get sloppy just because you’ve familiarized yourself with it. Circulate while minding each mnemonic.”

“I will.”

Jin-hyeon clapped his hands.

“We should all watch the final. For now, split up and do what you need to do.”

“Yes.”

Thus Seol So-ha and Im Yeo-wol went to their quarters. They’d grown close enough that Im Yeo-wol would stand guard while Seol So-ha circulated.

Han Cheol-sang seemed to like Do Il-gang. He took him sightseeing here and there and would return later.

Left alone, Jin-hyeon leaned back in the alley leading to the arena and folded his arms. He didn’t feel like walking around.

How long did he wait like that?

“I didn’t know.”

Jin-hyeon, eyes closed in thought, turned his head.

Heo Jang-un was there.

“My opponent in the final. It’s a woman close to you.”

Unlike when the four had met, there were no honorifics now. Jin-hyeon smiled.

“I taught her myself.”

Heo Jang-un cocked his head.

“I think I heard as much. That you’re close with the Seol Clan’s Patriarch.”

“…”

“Why is someone of the Seol Clan so chummy with an elder of the Cheongyang Association?”

“None of your business.”

Heo Jang-un’s face twisted.

From the first sight, he hadn’t liked Jin-hyeon.

It wasn’t because he was a formidable master. He just disliked him on sight. The white hair, the big greatsword, even his voice. Nothing pleased him.

He was even young, yet the heads of Divine Iron and a Cheongyang elder were all but deferential.

Heo Jang-un couldn’t understand it. Whatever his skill, to his eyes the man wasn’t worth that regard.

People can hate others without special reason. For Heo Jang-un, that was Jin-hyeon.

“Your tone is quite arrogant. If you’ve got guts, how about a bout before the final?”

“Ten exchanges.”

“What?”

“Even at your best, you’ll struggle to last ten moves in my hands.”

Killing intent bled over Heo Jang-un’s face.

“Shall we find out?”

Jin-hyeon pointed at the arena with his chin.

“Go get the hosts’ leave. Tell them you’re forfeiting the final.”

“What?”

“Wouldn’t the optics be strange? If you go up mangled by me, Lady Seol wins too easily, and it looks like the girl I half-raised as a pupil is handed the title. I don’t like that.”

“…Would you look at this bastard?”

“If your rage is truly all for me, don’t chase honor with a petty match like this. Come at me for real. Show that much sincerity, and I’ll receive you in earnest.”

Heo Jang-un’s lips twitched.

He didn’t like this duel either. A true fight should weigh blood and life on the scale. Deciding victory because of a bad cut? Child’s play.

But there was no help for it. To become a man of the Divine Iron Merchant House, he had to win this tournament.

‘Damn it. If it were only the merchant house, I’d do as I pleased.’

Considering the pay and treatment Divine Iron would give, it was worth swallowing his temper. But if he truly blew up, he could overturn everything and void the deal.

The problem was Ha Suk-heon. Since he was the one who recommended him to Gong Cheong, who knew what would happen if he caused trouble here.

Heo Jang-un tamped down the fury about to erupt.

“Just wait. I’ll send back that pupil you fussed over, covered in blood.”

“Don’t get careless. Lady Seol is strong.”

“She’s still just a wench. If you like, I’ll tear her clothes to shreds and let you gawk at her naked body. Her face is pretty too. Ah, don’t tell me you’ve already fucked her?”

It was a blatant provocation. Jin-hyeon shook his head.

“Your mouth’s too loose.”

“?!”

“You don’t think Hero Ha or the merchant house will let you slide for that, do you? If you didn’t think of that, your head’s just decoration.”

Heo Jang-un’s face flushed red.

Jin-hyeon smiled coldly.

“If you’ve staked your life on the blade, speak words you can answer for. Don’t flap your tongue with cheap taunts.”

“…”

“Beat it.”

Having tried to needle him and been savaged in return, killing intent thickened around Heo Jang-un.

It was then.

“Disqualified already?”

Startled, Heo Jang-un looked back.

Mun Jung was standing there before they knew it.

“It’s been barely a quarter-hour since the warning.”

Heo Jang-un bowed before he knew it.

“I greet the Branch Chief of Sichuan.”

“Don’t waste your energy here. Prepare for the match with a solemn mind. As I said, if you make that ‘accident’ that didn’t look like an accident again, you’re out, no question.”

Grinding his teeth, Heo Jang-un bowed again in silence and hurried away as if fleeing.

Mun Jung looked at Jin-hyeon. Jin-hyeon closed his eyes and crossed his arms as if unaware.

Staring idly at him, Mun Jung waved and walked off into the distance.

But that didn’t mean there was no conversation between them.

[When shall I see you again?]

[In five days. Find me then.]

And time passed.

At last, the Radiant Sword Festival’s final match opened.

As with the semifinal, even more people gathered for the final.

People were packed everywhere but the arena itself. The murmuring made it feel as if buildings rumbled.

The viewing stands were full. Renowned masters from afar looked down at the arena, their eyes shining no less than the crowd’s.

Soon after, the referee ascended.

“Uwaaah!!”

Cheers erupted before any introduction. The referee raised a hand with a smile.

The roar slowly tapered off.

The referee spoke, voice infused with internal energy.

“The Radiant Sword Festival’s final match begins now.”

With the tremendous cheer, the earth seemed to shake.

“Black and white brackets, step forward.”

Seol So-ha and Heo Jang-un stepped onto the arena.

The cheers, which seemed they could grow no louder, swelled further.

One was the eldest daughter of the Eight Martial Houses, a rising star of Sichuan Murim who reached the finals at twenty after felling renowned masters. The other, a consummate bladesman who had put down every foe within ten moves with clean, seasoned martial arts.

A veteran master versus a rising star. No one could help but watch with interest.

The referee did not speak of rules. At this stage there was no point.

“This match will decide the champion and runner-up. Please show fine chivalry that considers your opponent.”

The two glared at each other without replying.

The referee raised his hand.

“Both sides, to your positions.”

They walked to the edges of the arena.

Her companions waved again to Seol So-ha, but she closed her eyes on purpose, not to lose focus.

But she received her people’s support in her heart.

Turning slowly and opening her eyes, she looked at Heo Jang-un smiling at the far end.

Red-flushed eyes, a grin wrinkling both cheeks. He looked like a snake.

Seol So-ha wasn’t swayed by his expression or words.

‘He’s strong.’

Now she felt she could tell. Even without his aura blazing, facing him gave her a sense of how strong he was, and what arts he might unfold.

Such sense was good for survival, but could keep one from taking risks.

‘This isn’t a gamble. I can win.’

Seol So-ha’s hand touched her sword.

‘Only to win.’

The referee shouted,

“Begin!”

At that moment, the two rushed at each other.

Unlike Seol So-ha, Heo Jang-un was secretly surprised. She knew the gap in skill, yet chose a head-on clash from the start?

‘Stupid bitch.’

Scoffing inwardly, Heo Jang-un set his hand on his blade.

‘I’ll toy with you, then finish you with flourish.’

Flash!

With a crisp sound, the pudao flashed out, cleaving straight for Seol So-ha’s collarbone.

And.

The instant she drew, Seol So-ha’s longsword traced a fierce arc for Heo Jang-un’s collarbone as well.

She didn’t evade or guard. She aimed for the same point. A mutual-destruction ploy.

Startled, Heo Jang-un twisted blade and body at once.

Jjeong!

Her longsword lost its way against the curving sabre strike.

Kwaduk!

With the force of Heo Jang-un’s palm, the arena floor dented.

And from that spot, Seol So-ha suddenly used Moon-Shadow Divine Steps and unleashed Willow-Snow of the Moonlit Snow Shadow Sword for his fingers.

Pit!

The two swiftly switched positions.

Heo Jang-un’s face twisted. A small cut had opened on his left hand, the one without the blade.

Seol So-ha looked at him with cool eyes.

Her eyes, clear to the point of translucence, were like crystal carved of ice.