The Legend of the Northern Blade - Chapter 182: The Butterfly Effect (1)
Chapter 182: The Butterfly Effect (1)
Jin Mu-Won entered Heaven’s Summit, followed by Ha Jin-Wol and Myeong Ryu-San. Since they had no grounds to stop him, the warriors of the Outer Hall let him pass. Some shot him looks of disapproval, but most stared at him in awe.
Regardless of the circumstances, Jin Mu-Won was a prodigy who had defeated Yeon Cheon-Hwa, one of the Four Northern Pillars. His martial prowess was undoubtedly the strongest among the younger generation, and rumors were already circulating that he might rival the Nine Skies.
By now, everyone in Heaven’s Summit knew his face. The impact he had made on the jianghu was that immense.
“Hehe! Look at you, you’re a celebrity now. How does it feel?” Ha Jin-Wol teased.
“It’s not a particularly enjoyable experience,” Jin Mu-Won replied.
“Does the attention bother you?”
Jin Mu-Won nodded silently.
Ha Jin-Wol grinned slyly. “You need to be more shameless. If you’re going to accomplish great things in the future, you’ll receive far more attention than this.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“Hehe! That’s the fate of the famous. Still, whatever you do, never bow your head. Keep your head held high and proud. This is an opportunity you fought hard to get.”
“I understand.”
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In contrast to the two calmly conversing men, Myeong Ryu-San was clearly a nervous wreck, constantly wringing his hands and glancing around.
Ha Jin-Wol chuckled at the sight. “You seem nervous, too.”
Myeong Ryu-San groaned. “Ugh, don’t talk to me. I feel like I’m about to piss my pants.”
“Hehe!”
“Damn you! This is killing me.”
Myeong Ryu-San couldn’t hide his anxiety. He had also applied for the Demon Hunter selection tournament, and today was his first match.
After Tang Gi-Mun’s poison had unlocked his latent potential and qi, his martial arts had improved a great deal over the past months. Through arduous training, he had now reached a level where he could skillfully project his qi externally.
As a result, he had gained considerable confidence in his abilities. Using them in a real battle, however, was another matter entirely. Because of this, he was extremely nervous.
Ha Jin-Wol asked, “Who is your first opponent?”
“A martial artist from the Martial Moon Sect.”
“Hmm… If you’re not careful, you might be eliminated on the first day. The Martial Moon Sect is famous for its fist techniques. Their unique martial art, the Thirteen Fists of the Yellow Leopard, is quite well-known. They say that anyone struck by it has their bones shattered.”
“Hey! Do you have to jinx it? You always pick the unluckiest things to say.”
“Hehe! Why? Are you scared?”
“Me? Scared? No way!”
Jin Mu-Won smiled faintly at Myeong Ryu-San’s bravado. The stage where Myeong Ryu-San was to duel was on the far right end of the training ground. Two martial artists were in the middle of a fierce match there, and a large crowd had gathered to watch.
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Sword qi and fist qi were flying wildly in every direction. Both fighters were clearly highly skilled martial artists.
In the past, just watching them would have made Myeong Ryu-San wet his pants. Even now, he felt his lips go dry.
Holy shit, this place is teeming with monsters like that?
This was a golden opportunity for him to make a name for himself. Although he dared not dream of becoming a captain, if he could join the Demon Hunters as a regular member, it would be an honor for his family, and he could live proudly in his hometown of Sichuan.
He stole a glance at Jin Mu-Won. The man’s gaze was fixed on the stage as if he were completely absorbed in the fight unfolding there.
Myeong Ryu-San bit his lip. He knew he could never catch up to Jin Mu-Won, no matter how hard he tried. Still, part of him wanted to outdo him somehow.
Suddenly, a familiar voice called out, “Master Jin!”
The three men turned toward the voice.
Myeong Ryu-San’s eyes widened. “Miss Nam?”
Nam Soo-Ryun approached them gracefully, a young martial artist walking beside her.
Nam Soo-Ryun clasped her hands together and greeted, “Master Jin, are you here to watch as well?”
“Thank you for your help last time, Miss Nam.” Jin Mu-Won returned the greeting. He had not forgotten that she had defended him, putting the honor of the Mount Mu Sect at risk.
“There is no need to thank me. It is my duty to stand up for what is right.”
“What brings you here?”
Nam Soo-Ryun gestured to the young martial artist standing next to her. “This is my junior brother. He said he wanted to participate in this duel tournament to gain experience.”
The young man introduced himself, “I am Jang Hak-Jin of the Mount Mu Sect. It is an honor to meet you, Northern Blade Jin Mu-Won and Scholar Ha.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” Jin Mu-Won replied.
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“You’re quite the handsome fellow,” Ha Jin-Wol quipped. “The heroines of the jianghu are going to drool all over you. Hehe!”
As Ha Jin-Wol said, Jang Hak-Jin was tall with handsome, well-sculpted features. Moreover, as a disciple selected to represent the prestigious Mount Mu Sect, he boasted powerful martial arts skills.
Myeong Ryu-San glared at Jang Hak-Jin contemptuously. The warm glances the man occasionally sent Nam Soo-Ryun’s way bothered him. Even worse, Nam Soo-Ryun had not glanced in his direction once.
Am I really that insignificant?
A sense of bitterness lingered in his mouth, but such was his current reality. In the vast jianghu, he was nothing more than a bottom-feeder.
Just you wait. I will rise to the top someday.
Grinding his teeth, he rekindled his fighting spirit.
Just then, Nam Soo-Ryun turned toward him. “I heard that you are also participating in the tournament, Master Myeong. I wish you all the best.”
“T-Thank you,” Myeong Ryu-San stammered. His mind told him to respond coolly, but his face refused to obey. With a single glance and word from her, his mouth stretched into a goofy grin.
Ha Jin-Wol clicked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk! Close your mouth. A fly is going to get in.”
“Eek!”
“Well then…” Nam Soo-Ryun said her goodbyes and walked away with Jang Hak-Jin. He would not be fighting today. He had received letters of recommendation from the Mount Mu Sect Elders, so he would only ascend the stage after the participants had been narrowed down to three hundred.
Ha Jin-Wol’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he watched them leave.
Jang Hak-Jin, eh? Not only is his stamina and inner arts overwhelmingly superior to the average participant, he also gets to conserve all his strength before the main matches. Talk about unfair!
By the time the normal contestants reached the main tournament, their qi and stamina would surely be depleted. If they sustained even a minor injury on top of that, they would be unable to exert their full strength. They were starting with every possible disadvantage.
WHACK!
Ha Jin-Wol slapped Myeong Ryu-San on the back of the head.
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Myeong Ryu-San shot him a dirty look. “Hey! You really…”
“Keep your head on straight, you fool.”
“Fuck you!”
“Everything depends on the choices you make in the moment,” Ha Jin-Wol said in an unusually serious tone. “You will face many temptations, but remember that sometimes, the longest path is the fastest one.”
Myeong Ryu-San scowled, but Ha Jin-Wol had already walked past him and headed off into the distance.
Huh? Was that asshole actually trying to encourage me…?
A shadow briefly fell over Myeong Ryu-San’s face.
CRASH!
Suddenly, one of the combatants was thrown from the stage and tumbled across the floor. A large wound marred his flank, and he curled up like a shrimp from pain.
“Master Ahn Oh-Gyeong of the Furious Tiger Sword Sect is the winner!” the referee shouted.
“Waaaah!”
A loud cheer erupted from the crowd around the stage.
No one spared a glance for the loser who had collapsed below the stage.
After some time, the young man finally got up, his side still stained red with blood.
“Keuk!”
Hot tears streamed down his cheeks, but it wasn’t because of the pain. He was crying because he had lost the golden opportunity that had finally come his way so meaninglessly.
He was the disciple of a Sect Leader from a small and obscure sect. For a young martial artist whose dreams had been stolen by larger powers nearby, joining the Demon Hunters was his only hope. Now, though, all of that hope had vanished like a burst bubble.
The young martial artist left the duel stage without treating his wound.
Jin Mu-Won stared blankly as the young man hobbled off. That young man was not alone. At that very moment, countless losers were leaving the other platforms in solitude.
Only the victors were celebrated. No one gave the losers a warm, sympathetic glance. They were the ones who would be forgotten and disappear into the background.
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Jin Mu-Won let out a soft sigh. This cruel world was ruthlessly eliminating countless young martial artists.
The referee announced, “Next up! Master Nam Mu-Seok of the Martial Moon Sect and Master Myeong Ryu-San from Sichuan! Will you both please come up to the stage?”
In an instant, Myeong Ryu-San’s face turned pale. Although he had been psyching himself up, now that his name had been called, his heart began to pound wildly and his legs felt heavy.
Nonetheless, he forced a confident expression onto his face. He could not afford to lose the battle of wills from the very beginning.
Damn it! At least, I can only die once…
Nam Mu-Seok of the Martial Moon Sect walked up from the opposite side of the platform. He was an enormous man, at least twice Myeong Ryu-San’s size. His muscles were as impressive as his large frame. It looked as if a mere graze from his fists, which were as large as cauldron lids, would cause serious injury.
He grinned at Myeong Ryu-San.
Myeong Ryu-San flinched. He quickly bit his lip, however, and stepped onto the duel stage.
Immediately, his nerves threatened to consume him. Standing face-to-face with Nam Mu-Seok, his opponent’s size felt even more immense.
The referee looked at the two of them. “As you know, the rules are simple: Defeat your opponent, but do not kill them. I hope you both do your best. Only the victor has the right to participate in the next duel.”
“Hmph!”
“Hehe! It looks like you’ve learned a trick or two from some nameless sect. How about you give up before I break all your bones?” Nam Mu-Seok taunted.
Myeong Ryu-San narrowed his eyes. “You should be the one to back off. This hyung’s hands are sturdier than they look.”
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“Hah! The nerve.” Nam Mu-Seok scowled, and a chilling glint appeared in his eyes.
Myeong Ryu-San felt goosebumps crawl up his arms at the intense killing intent. Still, there was no way he could eat his words or surrender.
“Then, let the duel begin!”
The referee stepped back, leaving only Nam Mu-Seok and Myeong Ryu-San on the stage.
“I am going to chew up every last one of your bones,” Nam Mu-Seok snarled, assuming the starting stance of the Thirteen Fists of the Yellow Leopard, the signature technique of the Martial Moon Sect.
CRACK!
He stomped his foot intimidatingly, sending cracks through the blue stones of the stage.
Myeong Ryu-San flinched again, but stayed put and took his own starting stance.
“YAAAAAAH!” With a roar, Nam Mu-Seok launched himself at Myeong Ryu-San.
Despite his massive build, his movements were as nimble as a leopard’s. In an instant, he closed the distance and threw a powerful punch.
POW!
Right from the start, he unleashed the Leopard King’s Rising Strike, the fifth technique of the Thirteen Fists of the Yellow Leopard.
A wave of fist qi so powerful that the old Myeong Ryu-San could never have imagined it rolled toward him like a tidal wave. Despite his panic, though, his body moved automatically before the punch could hit him. He took one step to the left, then another step back, and escaped Nam Mu-Seok’s range.
He had not calculated the move in advance. Rather, it was a instinct he had developed thanks to Jin Mu-Won’s frequent beatings.
“Huh?” Surprised at himself, Myeong Ryu-San gasped.
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Nam Mu-Seok launched a second attack, but again, Myeong Ryu-San dodged the attack with unexpected agility.
“……” Finally, the fear and worry in Myeong Ryu-San eyes vanished.
Unlike Jin Mu-Won, Nam Mu-Seok lacked an overwhelming presence, and he wasn’t as skilled at exploiting openings. Each of his techniques was powerful, but his movements lacked fluidity and felt disconnected. While he had felt only despair against Jin Mu-Won, Nam Mu-Seok somehow seemed sloppy in comparison.
Suddenly, he thought he might actually stand a chance at winning.
Fuck it. This guy is no big deal!
Myeong Ryu-San’s gaze turned hostile.
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