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Chapter 296

“Do you know that having inner energy or not makes all the difference in strength, agility, stamina, and overall endurance? It doesn’t seem like you’ve trained your body through external arts either… Could it be that so-called magic that’s famous in the Central and Western continents…?”

“Ah. I can use it, yes. But I won’t be using magic in a sword tournament. Traditions should be respected.”

“Since you’ve joined late, you’ll have to endure people’s stares. And to pass the preliminaries, you’ll have to defeat many opponents.”

“If I can’t climb beyond that, then that’s all I amount to.”

At my shamelessly casual reply, he hesitated, then nodded.

“This matter needs the opinions of other clans, but from what I’ve heard, the Muyeol Clan is already in favor of it.”

“Yes. That’s likely. At that age, their pride is at its peak, so they’ll probably want to put me in my place in front of everyone.”

“You speak as if you’re an old man…”

“At best, I’m just over twenty.”

At my smile, he gave a wry chuckle.

“Elder Wu.”

“Yes, Clan Head.”

“Open the armory. Bring out a worthy sword and some elixirs for Young Lord Leon.”

“…What?!”

“He’s the guest who brought us news of Dan Ryeong. And he saved Wuryeong from disgrace in front of so many people. That much is deserved.”

“…Yes. Understood.”

There was no real opposition.

The elixirs didn’t matter much anyway.

In a clan of this size, they’d only be common low-grade ones.

As for the sword—irrelevant too.

Even among the ordinary blades I’ve tossed into my subspace storage, there are swords mixed with orichalcum.

Compared to that, just plain steel?

Meaningless.

Still, I didn’t refuse.

There was no reason to turn down a gesture of goodwill.

Having achieved my purpose, I left the clan leader’s hall and came face-to-face with Wuryeong, who was watching me with a troubled expression.

“Gu Hwan, whatever his character, is called a prodigy of the century.”

If that level counts as a prodigy of the century, then the legendary Eastern Continent of old was, after all, just a place where people lived.

“Him? Didn’t seem that way to me. He could barely stand straight.”

“That was because he was drunk. At the assembly, he’ll be in peak condition…”

The real reason Wuryeong lost so helplessly against him was that the more she clashed, the more her ‘Skin-face Mask’ was damaged.

At her young age—and as a woman—such a thing was crushing.

“You sure worry a lot. Well, I did play neighborhood boss back in the day.”

Though, in reality, that neighborhood boss role now extended to an entire kingdom.

“You should withdraw, even now. I’m grateful for what you did for me, but you could end up gravely injured. You don’t even have inner energy…”

I cut her off and turned away.

“See you at the assembly.”

“What the—…”

She was too stunned to say anything more.

* * *

The assembly, jointly held by the great clans, was, in a word, massive.

Preliminaries in the morning, the main matches in the afternoon.

Those with a certain level of skill could skip the preliminaries, unlike me.

I had to cut down quite a few opponents to reach the main event.

Young men and women from small families or dojos across the land gathered here, eyes blazing, hungry for a chance at fame.

Unfortunately, none looked like they had the ability to make a name for themselves in this assembly.

Naturally, I stood out among the preliminaries.

My foreign hair color and eyes marked me as from another continent.

Add in yesterday’s rumors, and most of the stares weren’t friendly.

They were filled with hostility—or at least wariness.

But above all, what made them scoff was—

“Hah. A guy without inner energy? You think this is a place for you?”

On the sparring ground, a burly young man with a huge greatsword leveled his blade at me.

“I’ll make sure scum like you never dare set foot here again.”

He spread his aura wide and charged at me like a war chariot.

Aura or inner energy—it’s all the same, just different names, different ways of use.

The essence doesn’t change.

Since the main matches were in the afternoon, these young hopefuls from minor groups were more like warm-up entertainment than anything else.

The atmosphere was more like a noisy marketplace than a tournament.

Still, that worked out fine.

Many eyes were already fixed on me.

To them, I was a foreigner to be despised and guarded against, a man with no inner energy. They were curious how badly I’d be beaten.

“To face a superior opponent and yet let your eyes wander! You truly have no talent as a warrior!”

He swung down with murderous strength.

As he lunged, I shifted my gaze from the crowd to him.

In that instant, doubt flickered in his eyes.

His blade, clearly breaking the tournament’s rules, slashed straight toward my neck—

But the tip only carved air, grazing just past my throat.

Thud!!

At the same time, I seized him by the collar.

He braced hard, planting his feet on the ground.

He was bulkier than me, but I was just a bit taller.

“Oh? You dodged once? And this is supposed to be an attack? Don’t tell me you plan to throw me with that feeble body?”

“You sure talk down to me. Obviously, I grabbed you because I’m going to throw you.”

“To mock a warrior until the very—”

Why do they always talk so much?

“Alright. Hold tight now. Off you go.”

BOOOM!!!

And then—I hurled him straight into the sky.

He must have thought I was only going to attempt some crude throw.

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But my aim was different.

Like a supersonic missile, he shot upward.

The once-boisterous crowd fell silent, as if doused in cold water.

Then, after a long moment—

A scream grew closer and closer, like stereo sound drawing near.

Thud!!

I caught him effortlessly as he fell back down, as though gravity’s objection meant nothing.

“Huff… huff…”

The crowd’s eyes shifted from the dazed young man in my grasp to me.

The man I’d hurled skyward was utterly broken in spirit.

Even if I threw him out of the ring, he wouldn’t respond.

“Next.”

I said calmly.

Let as many people see and spread the word as possible.

That way, that bastard Gu Hwan will come to watch too.

The best way to drain someone’s spirit is to constantly remind them that they’re about to get fucked.

* * *

The preliminary rounds of the Assembly.

Usually, all kinds of incidents occur there, and sometimes it even ends with deaths.

Of course, everyone signs a waiver beforehand, and outright killing is generally prohibited, so fatalities are rare.

But when fighters with low cultivation clash, sometimes someone does end up dead.

Every now and then, like a dragon rising from a creek, a genius might appear from a lesser clan and make a name for themselves.

But the talents of the great families were in a completely different league.

That’s why no one normally expects anything spectacular from the preliminaries.

But this time was a little different.

Wuryeong of the Four Heavens Clan arrived at the tournament grounds where the preliminaries were underway, her face set and solemn.

She had intended to watch from his very first match, but due to circumstances, she had arrived a little late.

Truthfully, she hadn’t thought he would make it through the preliminaries.

Still, she hoped he wouldn’t get seriously injured.

After all, hadn’t he stepped forward for her sake?

He might be of mixed blood, but that hardly mattered.

She wasn’t one to judge based on rumors alone.

Just then, the murmurs of the crowd reached her ears.

“How many did he send flying?”

“Dunno. They say everyone who faced him ended up getting a good look at the sky. Look at the crowds flocking in—it must be quite the sight.”

“Right? I mean, when else do you get to watch people soar that high and then come down without a scratch, their souls half-scared out of them?”

The conversation was puzzling.

Sent flying?

What nonsense was this?

Frowning in confusion, she quietly headed toward the arena where the matches were taking place.

The roar of the crowd hit her.

And then—cutting through that roar came a scream, loud enough to swallow all sound, shrill and desperate, falling from the heavens.

“Uwaaaaaaaaah!!!”

The blood-curdling cry of terror grew closer and closer, and only then did Wuryeong realize it was a human voice.

Someone was falling from the sky.

And then—

Thud!

The boy caught him with ease, not a single injury on the man, and then looked over at the referee with a smirk.

“Next.”

“……”

The atmosphere was strange—eyes darting, people hesitant, as if no one knew how to react.

Wuryeong racked her brain desperately, trying to make sense of what was happening.

Her confusion, however, was quickly resolved in the very next match.

A man struggled desperately, trying to keep his distance and launch attacks, doing everything he could to avoid being caught in Leon’s grip.

Leon, yawning, stepped in smoothly, deflecting every attack as if brushing away dust, before finally seizing the man by the collar.

“Ooh… ooooh!”

“He’s doing it again!”

BOOOOOOM!!!!

Could that really be the strength of a human?

He had hurled the man high, so high he vanished into the sky.

And it wasn’t even as if he’d braced himself or set his stance.

He had tossed him as casually as one would lob a ball into the air.

Then, just like before, the screams returned—until Leon caught him again, unharmed, as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

Not only was the throw astonishing, but the fact that he could catch a person falling from that height without leaving them injured—this was something that simply defied comprehension.

“Next.”

The referee sighed, too drained to even comment, and unrolled a sheet of paper.

“The main rounds! All remaining contestants have forfeited!”

“So suddenly?”

“Suddenly? You’ve already flung more than five of them so high they nearly lost their souls! After that, how many do you think are still reckless enough to challenge you?”

Honestly, wasn’t it a miracle that more than five had even dared after seeing that?

Wuryeong couldn’t believe what she was witnessing.

Leon clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“Well, I guess it can’t be helped. I’ll just have to toss around the precious young masters from the great clans instead.”

“…Hah…”

Did he really just declare that he’d throw even the scions of the noble families like that? Wuryeong’s head throbbed, her thoughts unable to keep up with the absurdity.

“Hey, waiter, bring me some more boiled pork.”

“Oh, of course, sir! That’ll be—”

“Here.”

“Ah! Thank you kindly, young miss!”

A familiar voice caught her attention.

Turning her head, she saw the woman said to be Leon’s guard.

The blue-haired woman with the veil was calling out to a boy scurrying past with a large water jug and a basket of food.

She acted as though none of this was out of the ordinary, as though she’d seen it all before.

Watching her, Wuryeong felt the demonic thoughts that had been gnawing at her since yesterday quietly retreat into the shadows.

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