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< The King of Power, Inherit the Heart >
When Danwoo returned after a very short time, registered for the main event, and left, the members at the reception desk read the name tags with bewildered expressions.
“Seven seconds of ascending to heaven, the leader of the escaping monster, the enemy prince… Were they weak?”
After finding the nickname on the list, I drew a line through it, indicating elimination. No contestant had ever passed the preliminaries so quickly.
As Maengwon was staring blankly at Danwoo Seong's back as he walked away, his colleague next to him spoke.
"what's the matter?"
“That guy looks like a contender for the championship.”
This is because the expression on the man's face as he brought the three nameplates in an instant was truly calm.
"where?"
When Maengwon pointed to Danwooseong, his colleague said.
“I don’t know?”
“What do you know? Just accept the application.”
The man put the name tag that said "Mengwon" into the wooden box where the name tags of the finalists were being collected.
There was a thud sound because there was nothing on the floor.
.
.
.
The nameplates of the finalists poured out of the wooden barrel with a loud noise.
All the judges were gathered in the brightly lit reception area.
It was the moment when the main draw was drawn up.
The members came carrying a large situation board.
The scoreboard was adorned with thin nails, each one sculpted into a mountain shape with a decreasing number of nails as it ascended. Naturally, the winner was the one whose nameplate was placed atop the mountain.
The draw officially included the organizers' trickery.
It was somewhat surprising.
But when you know the circumstances, it feels a little different from a trick.
This is because the brackets are drawn up only to keep the strong players apart based on the judges' discussions and opinions.
First, the judges divided the preliminary contestants into three groups: A, B, and C. They then adjusted the skill level of the two contestants with A to ensure they didn't face off in the first round of the main tournament.
Moments later, the referee, who had cheerily declared Dan Woo-seong's passing, hung a name tag reading "Kwon Gaek" on the far left of the bracket. This would guarantee him the first match.
The referee said.
“Of all the people I’ve judged, Kwon Gaek is the only one who is a master.”
No one disputed the referee's words. The other referees then began placing the names of the players with the highest level of skill on the bracket. Despite the occasional debate, the bracket was completed smoothly.
As if on cue, someone entered the reception area, and those who had been looking at the brackets simultaneously bowed.
“Meet the leader!”
Leader Yoo Jeong-hong nodded and came in, then looked at the bracket while carrying his backpack.
“There aren’t many people who have advanced to the finals.”
The referee replied.
"Sometimes, we even eliminated those who had won three consecutive matches. As the leader said, we weeded out those who lacked character."
Yoo Jeong-hong looked at the referee and said this.
“Elder Song, has there ever been an instance of Sima Weidao interfering?”
The blunt-tempered old referee looked around at the junior referees, and when no one spoke, he looked at the leader and said.
“There wasn’t any.”
Yoo Jeong-hong nodded.
"Thank you for your hard work. Let's go with this bracket."
Then the judges and members applauded in unison as if a great burden had been lifted.
“Thank you all for your hard work.”
As Yoo Jeong-hong was leaving the reception desk, he stopped and said this.
"Biryongdae, Unryongdae, and Baekryongdae are to assess the locations of the finalists and assist them to prevent them from being ambushed by unscrupulous individuals or drawn into unnecessary fights. The elders are to divide the personnel and control them. Anyone who causes harm or trouble to the finalists, regardless of whether they are from a prestigious sect or a third-class family, is to be arrested and imprisoned in the Brain Prison. We will set an example through harsh punishment."
“I obey your orders.”
“If a finalist gets hurt, it will be considered shameful for the Murim Alliance.”
Only when the leader Yoo Jeong-hong disappeared, his pack on his back, did the judges and members breathe a sigh of relief. It was inevitable, because the leader was always terrifying.
The stubborn old referee nodded, crossing his arms.
"Yes, you're right. Everyone, please take care of it. I'll take care of it too."
Someone said with a laugh.
"Elder Song, you can rest. Aren't you busy with your research?"
The referee snorted.
"That's nonsense. I'm still healthy, so I can't eat free food. If you're an elder and don't do your job and just act like a jerk, you'll start to think about other things. Old people, you should learn to lead by example."
A man said this.
“Elder Song, please rebuke me whenever you see anything lacking.”
Judge Noh, Elder Song, was impressed.
"If anyone heard me, they'd think I'm always angry. There's something to my words, isn't there?"
On the other side, a gray-haired junior member of the elder council intervened.
“What are you talking about? You’re always angry.”
“This guy······.”
"This guy? I'll be seventy in a day or two. Senior, I've been hearing that guy's ramblings for thirty years, and my ears are calloused."
“If you feel wronged, you should have been born first, you punk!”
“Does that make sense?”
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Everyone burst into deliberate laughter, skillfully drowning out the stubborn men's bickering. One man shouted in a booming voice.
“Okay, seniors, let’s eat first!”
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.
.
Leader Yoo Jeong-hong was taking a walk with his escort when he climbed up to the main stage alone and looked up at the night sky for a moment.
Looking at the stars shining brightly and densely, it seemed like the weather would be fine on the day of the main event.
As Yoo Jeong-hong waved his hand, the guard disappeared without a word.
Yoo Jeong-hong sat in the high seat where the leader sat and stared blankly at the empty stage.
The memory was still vivid.
I saw the young, tousled Yu Jeong-hong, who had made it to the finals, and remembered his triumphant spirit after his victory. The faces of those who had competed against me flashed before my eyes, and I recalled the tone of the leader I feared at the time, as well as those who had either passed through the Murim Alliance or turned their backs on it for various reasons.
It was all in the past.
Even then, I didn't particularly hate anyone.
Because I thought that no matter where you are, you are all the same.
But he remained in the Murim Alliance until the end.
It was a very long time, but looking back, it feels like it flew by in an instant.
Friends gradually disappeared, and the number of subordinates with whom I found it difficult to share my feelings increased. As time passed, many of those subordinates also disappeared.
Especially in the decisive battle against the demons, the Orung Great Battle, countless deaths were lost. Those who had been competing in martial arts on the stage disappeared, and the horrific scenes of the Orung Great Battle were replayed before my eyes.
The screams were vivid in the leader's ears.
If you ask who was the greatest sinner in the tragic Battle of Orung.
Not only Madou, but Yoo Jeong-hong himself was also a sinner.
Because he was a fierce general, his followers did not spare their lives.
Yoo Jeong-hong's expression suddenly sank.
Wouldn't it have been right for the strong to fight and the weak to flee? How could those so-called "unmanned" have waged such a war? In Yu Jeong-hong's view, a world where only the strong gathered to determine victory was sufficient.
Only regrets without answers remained, leaving a lonely feeling.
Yoo Jeong-hong was originally a man who did not fall into such weak thoughts.
So, looking at the night sky, I had this thought.
He said that this might be the last Yongbongdaeyeon he would host.
.
.
.
“The leader has something to say.”
As the Yongbongdaeyeon began, the leader of the Yu Jeonghong movement stood up in the Grand Council.
A crowd filled the area around the stage. As people shouted Yoo Jeong-hong's old nickname, Yoo Jeong-hong raised his hand, quelling the awkward cheers and commotion.
Yoo Jeong-hong slowly looked around at the juniors of Kang-ho who had gathered with their arms linked.
I saw juniors from the Moonpa and Sega, juniors whose names I didn't even know, juniors from the Galaxy Top, and even a crazy man holding a black umbrella on a sunny day.
Yoo Jeong-hong smiled.
The worried expression that had once lingered in his thoughts in the dark night was nowhere to be found. He had returned to his usual confident and somewhat arrogant appearance as the martial arts leader, Yu Jeong-hong.
“The Dragon and Phoenix Festival has begun.”
The crowd became quiet at Yoo Jeong-hong's words.
"Forty-five years ago, a young man with a scruffy head, who borrowed money from people around him to come here from Shaanxi to participate in the Dragon and Phoenix Festival, stands before you. Back then, the rules of the Dragon and Phoenix Festival were different than they are now. There were often those who died due to bad luck. I remember defeating a master from the Sega clan in the first round, and a master from the Geumhyeolmun clan in the second. I later learned that a master from the Black Path clan had secretly joined the fight. Back then, even winning once or twice was no easy feat. Just like you slackers."
When Yoo Jeong-hong chuckled, everyone else smiled as well.
"The man who came in second was Jeon Woong, who started his career in the Murim Alliance with me. Jeon Woong received the Taesungdo (太星刀) as a gift, and I received the Suwolgyeom (水月劍). It was a time when winners weren't given anything in particular, but the leader of the alliance took care of us, and a senior member of the council even offered the Taesungdo. Back then, how strong would Jeon Woong and I have been? Because I received the Suwolgyeom, I honestly couldn't leave the Murim Alliance, even amidst all the ups and downs. The thrill of receiving the Suwolgyeom made me stronger. And so did all my juniors…"
“Yes, my lord.”
“The winner of this year’s Yongbongdaeyeon will receive Amipa’s Baeknyeonjeonghwasam.”
The participants' expressions changed, and many opened their eyes wide. This was because the elixir was impossible to obtain even if one wanted it. Only those who entered the Amipa and became Jang Moon-in's immediate disciple had a remote chance of consuming it.
"I'm sure each of you must be wondering what the wise master of the Amipa thought when he asked the unknown winner to hand over the Baeknyeonjeonghwasam. He must have felt it wasn't enough to give even a disciple of the Amipa. He simply expressed his regret for not being able to participate in the Yongbong Daeyeon. To the most outstanding swordsman in this Yongbong Daeyeon, I will present the Taeseongdo, which lost its master in the Oreung Daejeon."
Yoo Jeong-hong pointed to the sky with his finger.
"My friend in heaven, Jeon Woong, will also be watching with joy. And to the most outstanding swordsman… did you think I would give the Suwol Sword? That won't do."
As smiles spread everywhere, Yoo Jeong-hong laughed along and said.
"Gu Ga Cheol Bang will be delivering a sword specially crafted for this competition. To elaborate, Gu Ga Cheol Bang is the creator of the Unforgettable Sword, wielded by the Hwasan First Swordsmen of all time. The new sword's name will be chosen by whoever acquires it. Juniors…"
Yoo Jeong-hong said this while pulling out the sword he had on his waist with a squeaking sound.
"Even after the young man with the messy hair became the leader of the gray-haired sect, this sword, whose edge remains unscathed, is called the Suwol Sword. All my life, I've valued and cherished the upright and noble juniors of the martial arts world. Because after we depart for heaven, you will be the ones to guard this place. The Baeknyeonjeonghwasam, the Taesungdo, and even the Nine-Ga-Cheol-Bang sword. There's only one reason why our seniors give them to you without any strings attached."
As Yoo Jeong-hong straightened the Suwol Sword, the sunlight that poured down bounced off the sword's body.
The white-haired martial arts leader, Yu Jeong-hong, looked up at the clear sky. He spoke in a swearing tone to his friends, seniors, and juniors who were watching from somewhere.
“Because we are the white way.”
<The King of Power, Inheriting the Heart> End
ⓒ Eugene Sung
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