As the sun rose during the Yin hour.
Cheon Hwi strolled along a winding, narrow path.
Normally, he would be spending this time at the Wanjing Pavilion, but he had changed course and was heading somewhere else.
Waaaaah—
Cheers echoed from afar.
Cheon Hwi's eyes lit up.
Today, instead of the Wanjing Pavilion, his destination was the source of those cheers.
It was Daolinping, where the Wuyue Gathering was being held.
‘What kind of martial arts do the other sword sects practice? Are they similar to the Huashan Sect?’
Anticipation swelled within him as he imagined the martial arts he would witness at the Wuyue Gathering.
Walking with light, excited steps for a while, he soon spotted a massive gate.
‘This is the place.’
Seeing the plaque inscribed with 'Daolinping' above his head, Cheon Hwi reached out.
The firmly shut doors slowly opened.
Creak—
He couldn't help but frown.
‘There's a ridiculous amount of people.’
The sight that greeted him as the doors opened was far from pleasing.
Daoists were packed tightly around the massive training grounds directly ahead.
Even at a rough glance, there were well over a hundred daoists.
‘Hmm? There are other colored robes too.’
Those wearing the red robes proudly worn by the Huashan Sect made up more than half, but they weren't the only ones present.
Blue, white, black, and green.
Around the training grounds, aside from the red robes, people wearing robes of four other distinct colors stood separated.
As if an invisible wall had been erected between them.
‘It seems each sword sect has its own camp.’
Still, perhaps because this was Huashan Sect territory.
Even if it was a grand gathering of the Wuyue Sword Sects, they were still different sects.
Rival sects at that, so it was only natural.
‘Then I suppose I should go over there?’
Just as Cheon Hwi, having scanned the differently colored robes, was about to head toward the gathering of Huashan Sect disciples—
Waaaaah!
Excited cheers erupted from the front, and the watching crowd stirred.
‘It seems it has already started?’
Cheon Hwi quickened his pace.
Arriving behind the Huashan Sect disciples, he raised his head to see what was happening on the sparring stage.
‘Damn it.’
A curse slipped out instinctively.
All he could see were the backs of the people in front of him.
His view of the training grounds was completely blocked by the wall of people.
Having avoided dealing with crowds, he had completely overlooked this.
He was currently just a fourteen-year-old boy.
And perhaps due to his past illness, his height didn't even reach five chi, making it impossible to see the stage.
‘I need to get to the front.’
He quickly scanned his surroundings.
Spotting a small gap.
Swoosh—
He slipped right through it.
“Hmm?”
The Huashan Sect disciples standing at the very back, cheering as they watched the stage, turned their heads at something slipping into their ranks, and their eyes widened.
A small child was down below.
Large eyes and a high, straight nose.
Coupled with cherry-red lips.
Though he was a young boy still retaining baby fat, his looks assured that he would break many women's hearts when he grew up.
The first to react were the female disciples.
They stared at Cheon Hwi with sparkling eyes.
“Oh my!”
“Who are you?”
At the female disciples' clamor, the nearby male disciples also turned their attention to Cheon Hwi.
Like the female disciples, they admired Cheon Hwi's appearance, but soon tilted their heads in confusion.
“Who is he?”
“Did our sect have a disciple like that?”
Many stared at Cheon Hwi, but no one knew who he was.
It was inevitable.
Since Cheon Hwi had always stayed in his quarters due to illness, those who knew his face in the Huashan Sect could be counted on one hand.
It was even worse after he recovered.
Only commuting between his quarters and the Wanjing Pavilion every day, who would recognize his face?
Feeling uncomfortable with the stares focused on him, a furrow formed between Cheon Hwi's brows.
He had only pushed his way in to see the training grounds, yet he could feel the burning gazes steadily increasing.
‘What are you all staring at?’
But Cheon Hwi was unaware.
That his scowling face only drew even more attention.
“Oh my! Are you scowling?”
“He's so cute!”
Just as the female disciples were making a fuss over Cheon Hwi's changing expressions—
“Hmm? Isn't this my junior brother?”
A massive shadow engulfed Cheon Hwi and the female disciples around him.
“Lord of the Medical Hall?”
The female disciples surrounding Cheon Hwi flinched at the appearance of the Medical Hall Lord, Cheon Go.
Then, recalling the words he had just spoken, their eyes widened.
“But...”
“He called that child his junior brother...”
Panic-stricken, they soon realized Cheon Hwi's true identity, their eyes growing even wider.
“Don't tell me...”
“Martial Uncle Cheon Hwi?”
As they reeled in shock at the appearance of Cheon Hwi, whom they had only heard rumors about—
‘The man in the blue robe from back then?’
Cheon Hwi's eyes hardened as he looked at Cheon Go.
“Hahaha! You're looking much healthier since I last saw you, Junior Brother.”
Unaware of Cheon Hwi's thoughts, Cheon Go greeted him with a hearty laugh.
“Did you come to observe the Wuyue Gathering?”
“I did.”
Cheon Hwi replied dismissively.
Hearing this, Cheon Go quickly glanced between Cheon Hwi and the female disciples eyeing him with interest, then parted his lips.
“It's hard to see from back here. Follow me.”
With those words, he moved.
As the muscular giant, standing well over six chi tall, moved, the tightly packed crowd parted to create a path.
‘Finally, getting to the front.’
Cheon Hwi took a few steps following Cheon Go's striding figure.
Thud.
Cheon Go came to a halt.
Then, he stepped aside.
Oh.
Cheon Hwi's eyes lit up.
The training grounds were clearly visible right in front of him.
“Not a bad spot, wouldn't you say?”
“It's much better now.”
Nodding, Cheon Hwi turned his gaze from the training grounds to survey his surroundings.
‘Hmm?’
Feeling a gaze on the back of his head, he turned around.
Just a zhang behind him, he caught sight of the Sect Master, Hyun Sang, seated alongside the elders of the other sword sects.
At that moment, his eyes met the Sect Master's.
He was greeted by the Sect Master's faint, welcoming smile.
“Hahaha, I'm glad you like it, Junior Brother. I am quite surprised, though. I never expected you to come watch the gathering...”
Cheon Go spoke in a thick, booming voice.
“I just wanted to see some martial arts.”
“...Martial arts, you say?”
At Cheon Hwi's response, Cheon Go stroked his thick, sprouting chin beard.
Then, clapping his hands together, he added,
“Then you missed out. The Tianliu Sword Art that Chiyun displayed when he defeated the Songshan Sect disciple in the first sparring match was truly top-notch...”
Cheon Go said with a proud expression.
His explanation went on, but.
‘What the?’
Cheon Hwi, who should have been listening, ignored Cheon Go's rambling and stared at the sparring stage, only to frown.
‘They're just kids.’
On the stage were a young man who looked to be in his early twenties and a slightly younger-looking girl.
The moment he saw the two exchanging moves, his interest completely evaporated.
Just as Cheon Hwi was losing interest—
Clang!
The girl, forced onto the defensive, staggered.
“...To think Xuelan is being pushed back.”
Cheon Go groaned.
He knew Xuelan was the weakest among the participating disciples, but he had never imagined she would be at such a disadvantage.
“That child from the Taishan Sect possesses remarkable skill. To execute the Taishan Sword Art so proficiently...”
The Taishan Sword Art was a supreme sword technique, one of the best in the Taishan Sect, rumored to take at least ten years to master.
Yet a boy who had just reached adulthood was executing the Taishan Sword Art.
Proficiently, at that.
“Xuelan might actually lose.”
Cheon Go spoke with a heavy heart.
“Yawn.”
Cheon Hwi let out a yawn out of sheer boredom.
The match was far too peaceful, to the point of being tedious.
Even though they wielded real swords, neither attempted to draw blood or aim for injuries.
They simply exchanged techniques fairly, merely showing off their martial arts.
‘Now I see why these orthodox fools lose to weaker opponents.’
He couldn't even bring himself to laugh.
It was a sparring match, but this was too much.
Sparring existed to prepare for life-and-death battles.
Yet what was this nonsense?
There were no variables, no sharpness.
The ongoing match was a prime example.
‘Sigh, she's pulling her sword back there?’
Xuelan had struck first.
But to block her opponent's sword aiming for her shoulder in that opening, she withdrew her initial strike.
‘Tsk, if she had just followed through, her opponent would have suffered a fatal wound. Withdrawing it only puts her at a disadvantage.’
He watched their exchange with pity.
‘Kids these days have no ambition, none at all. In my time, we thrust our swords ready to get our guts spilled. And look at them, making a mess because they're afraid of a little cut.’
The very last ounce of expectation he had left completely evaporated.
At first glance, it looked fierce.
Sparks flew every time their swords clashed as they wove their footwork, enough to make the crowd hold their breath.
However, that was solely by their standards.
To Cheon Hwi, who had witnessed blood-soaked sparring matches daily in the Demonic Cult, this was hardly satisfying.
It was entirely child's play.
‘The next match will be different, right?’
Just as Cheon Hwi thought that—
Clang!
Xuelan was sent flying backward.
Thud, roll—
Overpowered in the clash of internal energy, she stumbled back several steps.
Her neatly tied hair came loose, disheveled, and she breathed heavily.
“Hah, hah.”
After a moment, Xuelan caught her breath and raised her sword.
Her sword-hand trembled from the aftermath of the previous clash, and the internal energy remaining within her was faint.
However, the light in her eyes burned intensely.
Crackle—
A chilling frost spread around her.
Drawing out every last drop of her remaining internal energy from the Yunv Heart Mantra, she gritted her teeth and swung her sword in a wide arc.
Her most confident sword stance.
The Shunv Sword.
Swish!
Witnessing this, her opponent, Dao Wu of the Taishan Sect, also swung his sword.
Clang!
A sharp metallic ring echoed.
“It was a good match.”
Dao Wu respectfully offered a cupped-hand salute toward Xuelan, who was down on one knee, holding her sword in a reverse grip.
“...”
Xuelan gritted her teeth and stood up straight.
Despite her hands trembling from the shock of the clash, she gathered them together and returned the salute.
“...It was a good match.”
At that moment.
“Well done!”
“Martial Sister, you were amazing!”
Comforting words erupted from the Huashan Sect's camp.
Everyone had sensed Xuelan's impending defeat from the midpoint of the match.
However, seeing her fight so tenaciously until the very end, they were deeply moved.
“Hmm, good.”
Cheon Go, standing beside Cheon Hwi, also smiled with satisfaction.
Xuelan was merely a registered disciple without a Daoist title, while her opponent was the Taishan Sect's Head Disciple.
The moment he stepped onto the stage, Xuelan's defeat was a foregone conclusion.
Yet Xuelan did not go down easily.
She persevered until the very end, and even drove her opponent back a few times.
“...The future of our sect is bright.”
Cheon Hwi looked at Cheon Go and the Huashan Sect disciples as if they were absurd.
‘What? The future is bright? As if it's bright.’
Perhaps Cheon Hwi's cynical thought was right.
Their smiles didn't last long.
In the very next match that followed.
“...I have lost.”
Chijae, who was regarded as an outstanding talent among the second-generation disciples alongside Chijian, had been defeated by a disciple of the Hengshan Sect.