It didn't take long for the sparring match with the Lord of the Black Alliance to be arranged.
That was only natural—the bout itself had been prepared before I even arrived; only the stakes had changed.
"Still, I didn't expect this many people to show up."
"Wow, the Alliance Lord's sparring matches were always popular. They don't happen often, and he is the strongest in the Unorthodox Sects, after all."
The Illusion Witch said that as she looked out at the training ground, packed with spectators.
"On top of that, word's been spreading that the Black Heaven Tournament might be cancelled this time, so even the common folk have come flocking in."
"The Black Heaven Tournament, huh."
The Black Heaven Tournament is something like the Dragon Phoenix Gathering, created by the Black Alliance.
With so few prestigious families and sects around, the overall level naturally drops off, but they say that by the semifinals or finals, it gets comparable.
Above all, just as the Dragon Phoenix Gathering serves as the first stage for nameless rising talents to make a name for themselves—
The Black Heaven Tournament, even if you don't win it outright, showing potential is enough to earn a place as a warrior of the Black Alliance, so it also carries a sense of being a sort of interview, they say…
"Ah, so that's why. If I win, the next Black Heaven Tournament might disappear, or its nature might change."
"That's probably right. But don't worry! Most of the rising talents—that is, the young martial artists—seem to secretly support the White Moon Sword Lord. Even if the Black Heaven Tournament takes a break for once, they won't hold it against you."
"Whether they support me or not, I have no intention of becoming the Lord of the Black Alliance."
"That's what I'm saying. You're not the kind of person to be satisfied with just the position of Alliance Lord… They really have no eye for talent."
"…"
The words "Aren't you the one with the worst eye for talent?" rose to the tip of my tongue, but I held them back—no need to waste energy before a sparring match.
I let out a light sigh and took one final look at my condition.
My mind was clear, my body brimming with strength, and my internal energy was full.
Truly a state of perfect readiness. …But a slight tremor was hard to suppress.
It was only natural. From now on, I was about to cross swords with none other than the Lord of the Black Alliance himself.
The sparring bout with Namgung Dowi had been a friendly match, far removed from a life-and-death duel. I had won, but that didn't mean I knew how things would go if we truly fought for our lives.
In contrast, the sparring match with the Lord of the Black Alliance would be a form infinitely closer to a life-and-death duel.
It goes without saying that neither I nor the Lord of the Black Alliance had any intention of truly harming the other.
It's just the nature of the martial arts we've mastered. At best, they're practical; at worst, they're techniques honed solely for killing people.
Since there wasn't a huge gap in our skill levels, to truly fight each other, we would have to approach it with the intent to genuinely harm our opponent.
…No. That wasn't the fundamental reason I was tense.
It was because my sparring partner was the Lord of the Black Alliance.
Before my regression. Once, I had thought of him as a petty man who used underhanded methods to check the Iron Blood Faction.
But that impression was overturned in an instant.
It wasn't that I thought Seomun Hwa-rin, who had taken everything—land and status—yet spent every day regretting the past and neglecting his duties, might not have been at fault either.
After finishing my revenge against the Iron Blood Faction. Accepting the version of myself who had been called the Sword Demon, swept up in my own killing intent, and appointing him to a position of importance despite the opposition of countless others.
It was because I had seen his back, always stepping forward to take the lead whenever something happened to the Black Alliance, commanding people with overwhelming martial prowess and leadership.
He hadn't influenced me as a person the way Seol Ri-hyang, Seomun Hwa-rin, or Tang So-wol had.
But as a Martial Artist. As an elder of the Unorthodox Sects, there was no denying that he was a man who quietly walked the path I needed to take first.
Yes. The Lord of the Black Alliance was my senior.
I had even killed a superior who crossed the line and died by my hand, someone who would charge headfirst at a higher-up if things went wrong.
A senior that even I, living with such a crooked attitude, had no choice but to acknowledge.
I had to surpass him. Thinking that unconsciously, my body tensed on its own.
Ignoring the Illusion Witch, who was letting out a sinister chuckle as she watched the crowd gathered outside, I turned around.
There stood Tang So-wol, quietly watching me. Her gaze had probably been fixed on me the whole time, not on the crowd outside.
I would have done the same if our positions were reversed.
Our eyes met—hers a dark green. Then, as if she had been waiting for this moment, she approached and slowly straightened my clothes.
Her reaction was as if nothing had happened at all, as if she were merely seeing me off for my usual morning training or a casual outing to clear my head.
A bit of mischief stirred in me at her composed demeanor, and I opened my mouth.
"Tsk, tsk. My betrothed is sending me off to fight the number one of the Unorthodox Sects, and there's not a single word of encouragement or support? That's cold of you."
"Hmm? Encouragement and support…? Does the young hero Cheon truly need such things from me?"
"Hmm?"
"Well, as always, you'll come back having won spectacularly, won't you? I'll simply prepare for what comes after the young hero Cheon's victory."
"…"
Saying that, Tang So-wol lightly patted my chest, as if she were done tidying up.
Watching her nod with a satisfied look, as if she were admiring a masterpiece she had completed herself, a wry laugh escaped me.
"Heh, fine. So, what comes after victory… Surely a betrothed who returns having endured hardship and achieved results deserves a reward?"
"Oh my? Is there something you desire? Or… something you'd like me to do?"
Tang So-wol sent me a suggestive glance. I shrugged my shoulders in response.
"A wish, is it. When we return to the Tang Clan, let's share a drink."
"Pardon? That shouldn't be difficult at all, but…"
"It's not easy. It's an extremely rare liquor—even the Tang Clan would only be able to obtain a single bottle."
"Just what kind of liquor are you talking about?"
Tang So-wol tilted her head, unable to fully hide a hint of disappointment. I reached out toward her.
Squish.
The soft feel of her cheek met my palm. I gently cupped her tilted head with both hands and set it back in place.
She hadn't expected this, it seemed—her face scrunched up slightly as she puffed out a breath. Watching her complexion gradually flush, I grinned and spoke.
"Yeo Ah-hong."
"Huh?"
"I've heard that noble families brew liquor and bury it when a daughter is born. Then they take it out and drink it together at the wedding ceremony. You must have one too, Tang So-wol."
"I do, but…"
"Good. It's a bit early, but a glass or two shouldn't hurt."
"…"
It was a winning answer I'd thought would please Tang So-wol, but what was the problem?
Somehow, Tang So-wol's expression had turned a little subtle. How should I put it? A look tinged with embarrassment, awkwardness, and a hint of guilt?
I stared at her, wondering what she meant, but only for a moment. Tang So-wol cautiously opened her mouth.
"Um… young hero Cheon. That might be difficult."
"Why?"
"Well… it was when I was sixteen or seventeen, anyway, much younger than I am now, and…"
"…Wait. I'm already starting to feel uneasy."
Since my regression, there was one thing that had surprised me when I first saw Tang So-wol. It was that she was far more playful than I'd expected.
So this was what Tang So-wol was like when she was young, before she went through the Clan Extermination—I'd let it pass with that thought.
But now she was talking about something from even earlier than that.
Tang So-wol gave an awkward smile as she watched me swallow my saliva.
"It's unfair that only the adults get to drink, and I'm barred from even entering the place where the alcohol is stored…"
"Surely not?"
"Yes, really. I drank it all. I only meant to taste it, but as is the way with first-time drinkers, I didn't know my limit and got completely drunk."
Tang So-wol looked at me with a sheepish expression, gauging my reaction.
I was so dumbfounded that all the strength drained from me.
"…Then I'll think of something else."
"I—I'll think of something too!"
Tang So-wol, unable to bring herself to let go of my hand, waved only her arm as she steeled her resolve.
Well, at least the tension had eased thanks to her, so I'd count that as a win.
I released Tang So-wol and stepped outside. What came into view was a training ground spacious enough for two Harmony Realm martial artists to go at each other with everything they had.
This was where the finals of the Black Heaven Tournament were held, if I recalled correctly. It was plenty wide for that, and naturally, there were many spectators.
-Waaaaah!
Cheers rang out from afar. The Illusion Witch, who had followed me belatedly, began to laugh in a voice truly befitting a sorcery user.
"Heheh. With this many people, the betting pool must be enormous. I've wagered my entire fortune on the White Moon Sword Lord, so you'd better win."
"That was the plan anyway… but your entire fortune, you say. That's quite bold of you."
"To be honest, when I said my entire fortune, I only meant five nyang of silver."
"Why is that? Even if you've been holed up in a mountain valley, a Harmony Realm martial artist shouldn't be short on money."
"When the house was destroyed, the warehouse went flying off somewhere and I couldn't find it. The money pouch I managed to salvage only had what was left over from my last outing."
"…"
Damn. This was my fault.
But thanks to me, she'd been given a chance to earn a fortune, so wasn't that a stroke of luck, all things considered?
Keeping a positive mindset, I stepped onto the training ground.
There, the Lord of the Black Alliance was already waiting for me.
He planted two long and short twin spears into the ground and let out a cackling laugh.
"This Alliance Lord is still the master of the Black Alliance, you know. Aren't you making me wait a bit too long?"
"I saw everything from outside. Didn't you just come out a moment ago?"
"Waiting even a few seconds is still waiting."
The Lord of the Black Alliance snorted, but a sly grin never left the corners of his mouth, and his eyes didn't stray from my every move for even a single moment.
Of course, the same was true for me.
Muscles rippling beneath his loose martial robes. I traced their contours, then drew on my past memories to recreate the Lord of the Black Alliance's martial art.
Over the past few days, the techniques I had visualized countless times in my mind's eye seemed ready to unfold at any moment, surging around the Lord of the Black Alliance.
It was probably within the radius where the Lord of the Black Alliance could thrust his spear directly at me.
He hadn't gripped his spear, nor drawn his blade. But the sparring bout had already begun.
I kept a suitable distance and took my position. Then I offered a respectful fist-and-palm salute. If I had to say it, I was the challenger here.
"Young hero Cheon Hwi of the White Moon Sword. I request a lesson."
"Tsk, we know each other well enough that this is embarrassing…"
Even as he said that, the Lord of the Black Alliance wrapped one fist in his other palm from his own spot, returning my salute.
"Twin Spear King Sangwan Geuk. It's been a long time since I introduced myself as a martial artist rather than as the Lord of the Black Alliance."
Chuckling, the Lord of the Black Alliance drew two spears of different lengths with slow movements, gripping one in each hand. I too drew my sword and pointed it at him.
The spectator stands, which had been ringing with cheers just moments ago, fell silent. They must have sensed the sharp tension flowing between me and the Lord of the Black Alliance.
A beast-like ferocity. And an overt arrogance radiated from him, yet his stance showed not a single opening.
There was no more conversation. I simply knew. Knew when to swing my sword.
Our bodies moved at the same instant, neither of us giving an inch. The soles of our feet slammed into the ground, unleashing internal energy to propel us into sudden acceleration.
A footwork technique accompanied by a sound like thunder. But that sound did not come from the feet alone.
In the same way, I squeezed every muscle in my body, explosively circulating my internal energy to support the movement.
The price I paid was a slight internal injury. And in exchange, I gained an extreme swiftness of sword that outpaced even sound.
The ink-colored blade had long since been stained white. The Thunderclap Sword, wrapped in a white gleam, shot straight for the Lord of the Black Alliance's chest.
A rather unconventional move, slamming a killing technique into the very first exchange. But it seemed I wasn't the only one who'd had that idea.
"Quick, aren't you."
With a battle-hungry twist of his lips, the Lord of the Black Alliance's twin spears moved at the same time.
A bizarre motion that bent along impossible trajectories. A strike carrying the relentless tenacity of one who never lets go of what he's aimed at.
He drives with the long spear, chases with the short one. That simple principle, elevated into an absolute.
A strike that cannot miss.
The killing technique, heavy with the Alliance Lord's Intent, precisely deflected the Thunderclap Sword that had been swung before his own.
KWAANG!
I let out a snicker amidst the fragments of Aura and sand dust bursting in all directions.
Seems we had the same thought.