The Sin Of A Man Of Resolve (3)

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. What about you, Brother Han?”

“Me? I just knocked out a rookie and roughed him up a bit.”

Han Cheol-sang pulled a table over.

“Duck, huh?”

“I timed the order for the trip and cleanup, and it landed just right. You must be hungry, so let’s have a bite.”

“But in about two hours it’ll be dawn… well, why not?”

Filling Jin-hyeon’s cup, Han Cheol-sang asked,

“How was the Black Bamboo Fort Master?”

“Nothing much. He gathered some elites just in case, but only around twenty. His own skill was below the Divine Spear House Master’s.”

“I see.”

Chewing, Jin-hyeon’s eyes widened.

“This is good. Did this tavern always have this dish? The sauce is sweet and salty—killer.”

“I added it myself.”

“Brother Han?”

“I got friendly with the head cook. Thought I’d whip up a sauce, and he let me use the kitchen.”

“As expected, great cooks get along well with one another.”

“We got to talking about what each dish lacked. His skill’s fine, but he doesn’t have much experience.”

Jin-hyeon suddenly wondered.

“By the way, where did you learn to cook?”

Han Cheol-sang gave a wry smile.

“Training the Life-Severing Blood Blade was hell. Worse than the hardship, I had to live for months with my internal energy sealed in a beast-ridden mountain to force my killing intent to grow.”

“Old-school, but effective.”

“After living like that, my master finally treated me to dishes at an inn. I was fifteen… I never forgot those flavors.”

“Hm.”

“It became a hobby. I studied a bit. The inn’s head cook was kind and taught me a lot.”

Han Cheol-sang grimaced.

“I once ate a dead tiger out of hunger, and it tasted like a year old rag. Fish left out for days would be less foul. I vomited several times trying to chew that meat.”

“Tiger meat is awful indeed.”

“You’ve had it?”

“To stay alive. I’ve had wolf too. Wolf beats tiger.”

It was the kind of conversation that would make ordinary people doubt their ears.

After a few rounds of drinks.

“Patriarch.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wish to become a Hegemon?”

Jin-hyeon snorted a laugh.

“Lately everyone keeps asking my goals and plans.”

“Asking if you want to be a Hegemon is a bit different.”

“Is it?”

Smiling, Jin-hyeon asked,

“Why? Do you want me to rule the era?”

Han Cheol-sang’s face was earnest.

“I don’t care what the Patriarch does. I’ve already come under the master of a wealthy family, after all.”

“Oh really.”

“I may leave someday, but if the master of the house I rely on wants something, I should help.”

Jin-hyeon shook his head.

“What I want is you smiling, making dumplings, living well.”

“…”

“I want Yeo-wol strong and not stingy with her smiles. I want the Seol Patriarch and Lady Seol stronger too, living splendidly as they have, but unshaken by threats.”

“Is that so?”

Han Cheol-sang smiled.

“Then yes, it seems that you wish to be a Hegemon.”

“That’s a Hegemon?”

“Saying you’ll etch your name in history and rule the land doesn’t make you one. A true Hegemon governs his people and his world well.”

“An interesting reading.”

“To achieve what you want, you must be stronger than anyone. That is because you have to survive to the end to see them become that.”

“That’s also an interesting explanation. And somehow convincing.”

“Moreover, you’re the sort who thinks the whole world you see is your home.”

Han Cheol-sang drained his cup and spoke.

“You’re a Hegemon. Moderate and unhurried, but the real kind.”

Jin-hyeon struggled not to let a laugh slip.

“If that pep talk was for the rough night, it worked. Though I didn’t expect you to mix and pour the sauce yourself.”

“So then.”

Refilling his own cup, Han Cheol-sang asked,

“What now? You toppled and seized one of the Eight Martial Houses. This rumor will spread across Sichuan soon.”

“Not soon, by tomorrow half of Sichuan Murim will know. Plenty saw the Black Tiger Fist Sect move, even at night.”

“Will that be alright? If they dig properly, they’ll trace it back to you.”

“It’s fine.”

Jin-hyeon smiled, eyes bright.

“The half-baked ones won’t know. But the people who should know, will.”

“…”

“I did this to see one such person’s reaction. If he plays dumb and rough, I just need to go into hiding.”

The sun stood high.

Seol So-ha took a deep breath.

“Nervous?”

“Yes.”

So honest.

“Don’t warm up with internal energy alone. Rotate shoulders, knees, wrists, ankles. Moving your body makes a real difference.”

She immediately began rotating her shoulders, knees, wrists, and ankles as told.

“The neck matters most. Keep it supple. Warm the cervical muscles so blood flows well to your head.”

“Ah, yes.”

“Fights between masters are decided in instants. To make up for one mistake, trained reflexes and cognition are vital. Loosen the area that runs from neck to shoulder well.”

Turning her neck this way and that, she gave an awkward cough. Many spoke of mindset and qi flow, but no one had told her to loosen cervical muscles.

But Jin-hyeon’s face was serious, and as always she didn’t doubt him.

“Your opponent is strong. Not far below you as you are now. In real combat experience, he has the edge.”

“I know.”

“But there’s no need to be too tense. You’ve fought two masters stronger than you for your life.”

Her eyes widened. The tension had kept her from thinking that far.

‘That’s right.’

Remembering the Black Cat Twin Swords, her taut body eased.

Jin-hyeon smiled.

“Still, don’t space out. Read his eyes and feet and it won’t be too hard.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

A moment later.

“Contestants from the Black and White brackets, please come up.”

Seol So-ha drew a deep breath again.

It was then.

Tadadak!

Startled, she glanced back.

The grinning Jin-hyeon, serene Han Cheol-sang, and awkward Im Yeo-wol each raised a hand.

They each gave her a pat on the back, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Go have a blast.”

“Yes. I’ll fight with joy.”

With that, Seol So-ha stepped onto the stage.

At that, a thunderous roar of cheers rang out. One of the most famous figures at this year’s Radiant Sword Festival was Seol So-ha. With her outstanding beauty, her resolute swordsmanship, and the considerate heart she showed at the end by sparing her opponent, she was especially popular.

Her opponent was the famed Gansu wanderer, Tiger-Eye Blade Maeng Heo.

In his mid-thirties, he’d entered the Kangho ten years ago, cutting down many bandits and villains wanted by the Heavenly Will Alliance.

His flaw was a cruel hand, and he refused local sect offers, walking the Kangho alone.

Renowned yet aloof. Such a man had joined the Radiant Sword Festival.

“How is it?”

At Han Cheol-sang’s question, Jin-hyeon asked Im Yeo-wol,

“What do you think, Yeo-wol?”

“The saber-wielder?”

“Yeah.”

Im Yeo-wol’s eyes grew deep.

“With my ability, I can’t gauge what level of master he is. But… he’s strong.”

“Why do you think so?”

“His gaze is sharp.”

Strong because his gaze was sharp. If anyone heard it, they’d snort in ridicule.

But Jin-hyeon didn’t brush off Im Yeo-wol’s words.

“Is it only his gaze that’s sharp?”

“I’m not sure, but I feel something ominous about him. I don’t know how strong he is, but people with such an aura usually throw a heavy opening blow.”

Jin-hyeon’s eyes widened a touch, and so did Han Cheol-sang’s.

“You’ve seen a lot of real combat, haven’t you?”

“Ah, just… yes, a little.”

Im Yeo-wol looked awkward again.

Thinking she was truly the avatar of awkwardness, Jin-hyeon said,

“That ominous feeling you sensed is killing intent soaked into his body. Call it the scent of blood. He’s killed many.”

“I see.”

“Veterans like him know the weight of the first move. As you said, odds are he’ll launch an oppressive strike the moment it starts.”

Jin-hyeon whistled low.

“You’ll become a master fast once you train properly, Yeo-wol. I misjudged you.”

“…Thank you.”

“But still.”

Jin-hyeon folded his arms with ease.

“In pure skill, Lady Seol won’t lose.”

Han Cheol-sang nodded.

“I think so too. But matches in the Kangho aren’t judged by skill alone.”

“Right. Complacency, nerves, mistakes, openings, all of that are part of skill.”

Jin-hyeon smiled.

“Let’s see some skill, shall we?”

Soon, the duel began.

Jjeong!

As Im Yeo-wol judged, Maeng Heo rushed in and struck hard with the very first move.

Seol So-ha’s response was excellent. Reading his momentum, she defended with full force, then used the Seven Purities Sword to counter in a flow like water.

Maeng Heo, surprised by her sharp counter, immediately fell back, blade sweeping.

Jjeo-jeo-jeo-jeong! Jjeo-jeong!

Their blades clashed as if possessed, heralding a spectacular start.

The crowd roared at the two masters’ ferocious exchanges. From the very first exchange, neither bothered to test the other, and they simply crashed into each other. It was a bout as fiery as they come.

As the arena simmered in frenzy.

Watching Seol So-ha’s responses with careful eyes, Jin-hyeon suddenly noticed someone that drew his gaze.

‘That guy.’

The youth in a bamboo hat among the spectators.

The same youth who’d fled without paying for noodles not long ago.

Jin-hyeon smiled.

‘Come to think, he made the main bracket too. I’m curious what kind of fight he’ll show.’

Watching the two of them clash blades as if possessed, the young man even clenched his fist tight. He couldn’t help but get swept up in that sheer, exhilarating force.

It was right when Jin-hyeon looked back to the arena after scanning the surroundings.

Seuek.

His white hair rippled on its own.

He slowly turned.

There stood a middle-aged man, hands clasped behind, gazing at the sky. It was the Sichuan Branch Leader Mun Jung.

Mun Jung lowered his gaze from the sky to Jin-hyeon. Jin-hyeon smiled faintly, and Mun gestured behind with his chin.

“Brother Han, I’m stepping out. Watch over Lady Seol.”

Without looking back, Han Cheol-sang said.

“If it’s dangerous, run. I’ll draw my blade and come at once.”

“I will.”