The Martial Alliance’s interior was as splendid as its exterior.

Everywhere she looked, Seolhwa saw ornaments and carvings of dragons, and the halls gleamed with gold and ivory, grand beyond measure.

This is nothing like the Martial Alliance of my previous life.

Back then, they had not even built new halls. They had merely purchased a large building and declared it their base, and even then they rarely gathered.

The martial world of her previous life had already been in chaos when the Alliance was formed:

The extermination of Mount Hua and Shaolin.

The death of Namgoong Mucheon.

The corruption of the Wudang Sect, the decline of great clans.

The splintering of the lesser sects.

Nowhere in the orthodox martial world had there been the strength to gather or help anyone else.

The Martial Alliance had been powerless.

...

Seolhwa gazed up at the magnificent main hall of the present Alliance.

Three great characters inscribed upon the massive plaque:

[武林盟 (Martial Alliance)]

This life would be different.

Already, so much had changed.

“Lady Namgoong!”

She lowered her eyes from the plaque to see the ones calling her.

Jegal Hwi, Peng Hogwang, and a man in a green robe.

Jegal Hwi approached with a glad expression.

“It has been a while, my lady. Have you been—”

But he cut himself short, swallowing the words. His downcast eyes spoke volumes.

“It would be too light to ask if you have been well, after all that has happened.”

The death and funeral of Namgoong Mucheon.

The battle with corpse-handling enemies.

The exposure that countless sects had ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) had their ancestral remains stolen and turned into Jiangshi.

The Namgoong Clan had come to be revered as the house that defended the history of the martial world, and Namgoong Mucheon was hailed as a hero.

But that was only the aftermath.

“I worried for you, my lady. It must have been hard.”

“....”

Under Hwi’s sincere gaze, Seolhwa hesitated before answering.

“I knew. That Grandfather hadn’t passed away.”

“Even knowing, standing at a loved one’s funeral is never an easy thing.”

“....”

“You bore much.”

Perhaps thinking she was uncomfortable, Jegal Hwi quickly ended there and turned to introduce his companions.

“This is Young Lord Peng Hogwang of the Hebei Peng Clan. And this—”

“I am Tang Hojin, second son of the Sichuan Tang Clan.”

The man in the green robe introduced himself. His narrow eyes and crooked smile recalled Tang Clan Head Tang Munryong.

“I must apologize for my elder brother’s rudeness at the last assembly. My mother instructed me to convey her regret when I met you.”

“That matter was apologized for sufficiently. You needn’t speak further of it.”

“...Understood.”

Unlike his rude, defiant elder brother Tang Gajin, Tang Hojin had a courteous and calm demeanor. His qi felt in no way lesser either.

Then Peng Hogwang offered his hand.

“Last time, we did not have the chance to speak properly. Peng Hogwang of the Hebei Peng Clan.”

Seolhwa took his hand, but it was so large she could only grasp three of his fingers.

Hogwang blinked in surprise as he looked at their joined hands.

“What is it?”

“Ah... your hand is so small...”

“Indeed. Yours is enormous.”

They released each other.

Seolhwa smiled lightly.

“I heard you are much older than I am, Young Lord Peng.”

She was six years his junior.

“Then please speak comfortably.”

“....”

Hogwang blinked, dumbfounded.

Jegal Hwi suddenly turned his head away and coughed sharply into his fist. The twitch at the corner of his mouth was barely hidden.

“...?”

Did I say something wrong?

While Seolhwa looked confused between the two, Hogwang awkwardly nodded.

“Y-yes. Perhaps... then...”

He scratched the back of his head, laughing stiffly.

Jegal Hwi cut in.

“Anyway, I just saw Woong earlier. He was here to register for the tournament. Are you not also?”

“I’m on my way to register now.”

Members of the fourteen factions could register at the Martial Alliance ahead of the official period, so their experience and ability could be assessed for proper placement.

“Why come separately? Woong has already finished and gone to his quarters.”

“I parted with him before entering Wuhan. I wanted to see the streets on my own.”

“That’s dangerous these days.”

Seolhwa turned to him.

“These days?”

“Haven’t you heard? Pretenders claiming the Sado Union roam about. The elders say we must be especially careful during the tournament.”

Since they might cause disturbances to target the event.

“...I see.”

In truth, Seolhwa had chosen to move apart from the Namgoong entourage precisely to confirm this herself.

To see whether those impostors were hiding in Wuhan’s streets, and also to confirm the patrol routes of the Sado Union’s Guardians, which she had quietly deployed.

“There’s been no trouble. I saw nothing unusual.”

“Still, be cautious. You are especially at risk, being of the Alliance Lord’s bloodline.”

“Yes, I will.”

Seolhwa smiled.

“Thank you for your concern.”

****

The tournament began.

The preliminaries were held in the Martial Alliance’s central courtyard, open for all to witness.

Eight narrow stages hosted bouts simultaneously, with the four Division Lords overseeing two apiece.

Victory in the preliminaries was decided in three ways.

First: being driven from the stage.

“Yaaah!”

With a fierce shout, a swordsman rushed in.

Jegal Hwi, folding fan raised before his lower face, gazed at him with bored eyes.

Both feet cannot hold weight evenly. Each step collapses his center—he’ll never find speed that way. Martial arts are balance above all.

Swiish—

The sword swept diagonally through the air.

Jegal Hwi snapped his fan shut, catching the blade.

Clang—!

Though it was fan against sword, the sound was like steel upon steel.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Hwi parried each blow, left hand clasped behind his back, retreating step by step.

The man, convinced he pressed the advantage, grew more excited, slashing harder.

But Hwi’s gaze upon those vigorous swings remained as flat as ever.

Without balance between upper and lower body, there’s no strength in the stroke. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Clang! Clang! Clang!

“How long will you keep running?” the man shouted.

At that instant, Hwi pivoted sharply on his right foot.

“!”

The man, leaning forward to press his rush, lost balance at once and staggered.

He stood at the stage’s edge. One more misstep, and he would topple off.

Hold it... hold it...!

With all his might, he barely stopped himself from falling. Relief filled him—

“Next time, return with your balance.”

Tap.

Something nudged his back.

“Uh—”

He tipped forward, slow but inevitable.

As he fell, he looked back—

Shhhk.

The fan opened, veiling Jegal Hwi’s face. His steady eyes curved faintly above it.

Thud—!

“Jegal Hwi, victory!”

****

The second way: yielding.

Whooom—Boom!

Shaolin monk Hyeon stamped down, the stage shuddering like an earthquake.

Hummmm—

Golden qi rose around him like shimmering heat.

“I shall face you with my utmost.”

His opponent gaped, unable to close his mouth.

He had joined only because his village master suggested it as good experience—like those friendly sparring matches with the next town.

So why did it feel like a raging bull was about to charge?

“Haaah!”

As Hyeon gave his battle cry, the man threw up his hand.

“I-I yield!”

The two faced each other a moment—then Hyeon clasped his fist and palm in salute.

“An excellent match.”

Flustered, the man returned the bow.

“Hyeon, victory!”

****

The third way: judgment of the overseeing Division Lord.

Clang—Clang! Clang! Shrrrk!

“Ugh—!”

The fighter was driven back yet again.

He shook his head to clear his blurred vision. His body trembled, breath ragged, barely able to keep his footing.

“Damn...”

Across from him stood his foxlike opponent, still smiling.

Tang Hojin of the Sichuan Tang Clan.

All he had done was hurl throwing blades while keeping distance, yet somehow the gap could not be closed.

Each dart carried such force that the man’s palm split and bled from the strain of gripping his sword.

He stared at his shaking hand.

Not like this... I can’t give up now. I came too far for that. I still have more to show.

He clenched his sword and lunged—

Grab.

A hand seized his arm. He looked up.

It was Yu Pyo, Lord of the Suzak Division.

“Defeat.”

“I—I can still—”

“You’ve already breathed in too much poison. You can hardly stand.”

“...Poison...?”

“The first rule of combat is to gauge your opponent. Not to charge blindly.”

Yu Pyo released him and turned to Hojin.

“Give him an antidote.”

“Yes. At once.”

Tang Hojin smiled gently and nodded.

“Tang Hojin, victory!”