“Did you catch the tournament?”

“I did! It was incredible! Especially the elites from the major sects and great clans! I honestly wondered if they were even the same species as us!”

Every tavern in Wuhan buzzed with talk of the tournament.

“A Shaolin monk stomped—thud!—and the ground around him went dudududu, shaking so hard I nearly fell over!”

“The Sichuan Tang Clan really lives up to the warnings. Even with most poisons banned, how do they still have so many? Their opponents couldn’t even get close. If you fight a Tang clansman for real, you’ll be poisoned before you can lift a hand!”

They said Mount Hua’s swordplay was dazzling and splendid.

They said Mount Emei’s spearwork overflowed with rectitude.

They said the Hebei Peng Clan’s warriors were built like oxen.

They said the Moyong Clan’s sword routes flowed like water, and none could withstand them.

They said the Jegal Clan’s handsome young lord fought cleverly.

When they were done with tales of clans and sects, they moved on to warriors who belonged nowhere.

Swordsmen, sabremen, and brawlers who scraped up names for themselves across the Central Plains with single-lineage arts.

The strange weapons they brought, the movements so different from orthodox martial artists—even the air around them.

For the onlookers, all of it was novel, all of it something to talk about.

“So—who’d you put your money on?”

A man glanced around and whispered to his group.

As the preliminary rounds played out, the spectators started a betting game to predict the champion.

Those who guessed wrong would have their money split by those who guessed right.

“I’m backing Namgoong Woong of the Namgoong Clan.”

“Namgoong Woong? Is he any good?”

“Of course! The way he swung his sword—whish, whish—so crisp and full of spirit! He looks to have inherited the Sword Emperor’s blood to perfection!”

Conviction filled the man’s face.

Of late, the Namgoong Clan drew attention both because of the rumors sweeping the martial world and because it was the family of the Martial Alliance Lord.

“Come to think of it, wasn’t there another direct descendant from the Namgoong Clan? The eldest granddaughter, I think. Her name was Namgoong...”

“Namgoong Seolhwa?”

“Ah, that’s it! How was she? I’ve never managed to see her.”

The man shook his head, baffled.

“Well... I don’t remember any of her bouts either. Did she even show up for the tournament?”

The two traded puzzled looks.

Then—

“Must mean she’s not much good. Otherwise there’d be gossip. I don’t even know what she looks like.”

“Now that you mention it, neither do I. Anyway, not every drop of the Sword Emperor’s blood is bound to be outstanding, eh? Hahaha!”

They burst out laughing together.

Their laughter blended naturally into the tavern’s din.

****

Thud—!

“Namgoong Seolhwa, victory!”

The blown-back warrior crashed off the stage.

Martial Alliance guards, practiced at this by now, strode up, slung the man over a shoulder, and carried him to the Medicine Hall.

Yu Pyo, who had been watching the bout, approached.

“You’ve ended it as soon as it began—again. Is there no mercy in you?”

Seolhwa, who had been watching the man being carried away, turned to him.

“Why would mercy be necessary in a fair bout? Holding back out of ‘consideration’ is just a way of looking down on your opponent.”

“I’m saying you could take it a bit easier. There’s a way to engage without being condescending.”

“It sounds odd hearing that from you, Division Lord.”

Wasn’t Yu Pyo of Mount Hua the one stricter than anyone about victory, the one who never showed mercy?

“Is this what they mean when they say the seat shapes the man?”

“I pity them, that’s all! Your opponents, I mean!”

One after another, she was blasting them «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» clear off the stage the instant things started; not a single one had even managed to properly lift a weapon.

Rumor had it one fellow, upon waking, protested that he had no memory of fighting and how could he be eliminated.

But as Namgoong Seolhwa said, it was simply a vast difference in skill—a fair bout nonetheless.

“Planning to take the championship?”

“I intend to.”

“Then the tournament participants are the ones to be pitied.”

If Namgoong Seolhwa set her mind on winning, the championship would be hers.

Her realm was already beyond any fair comparison with the current field.

“Go a little easy, will you? Since you’re at it.”

“I’ll try.”

After a nod to Yu Pyo, Seolhwa stepped down from the stage.

People who had just arrived to watch began gathering below.

“What, is this bout already over?”

“Looks like it.”

“That’s odd. I came straight over when I heard it was starting... Who was the opponent?”

“No idea. I just got here too.”

Tap. Tap.

Seolhwa passed calmly between them.

Dressed in plain training clothes, she went unrecognized as a young lady of the Namgoong Clan.

A few glanced sidelong only because of her striking looks.

Just as she was gliding out of the arena—

“Sister!”

Someone grabbed Seolhwa by the arm.

Namgoong Woong.

“Where are you going in such a hurry? Isn’t it your turn?”

“I’m on my way back.”

Woong’s eyes went round.

“Already?”

Wasn’t it only just time to start?

“You sent him flying, nice and clean.”

Seolhwa and Woong turned to the man approaching with a flutter of his fan.

Jegal Hwi.

Laughing, he snapped his fan shut with a crisp tac.

“I enjoyed your bout, young lady. I’ve never seen a duel so merciless.”

A faint crease touched Seolhwa’s brow.

“It was a fair bout.”

“Oh, I liked it, of course. Anything you do is to my liking.”

Jegal Hwi smiled, eyes curving.

Beside them, Namgoong Woong watched him with a curious look and was just about to slip between the two when—

“Hey—isn’t that Namgoong Woong?”

“He’s with Young Lord Jegal! Move—let me see those handsome faces!”

Seolhwa glanced around.

The moment Woong appeared, the murmuring crowd had been swelling; with Jegal Hwi joining them, onlookers were flocking in.

“You’re popular.”

“Are you jealous?”

“Why would I be?”

“A shame. I’d hoped you’d be, at least a little.” 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Seolhwa’s brows lowered.

He’d seemed almost normal for a moment; he was still as odd as ever.

“Young Lord Hwi!”

“Young Lord Woong!”

In an instant, the press of people turned into a heaving mass.

Those hoping to exchange even a single sentence with the two edged closer and closer.

Woong showed no sign of impatience, obligingly engaging the crowd. In the midst of it, he suddenly glanced around.

“Huh? Brother Hwi—where’s my sister? She was right here a moment ago...?”

Jegal Hwi smiled.

“She slipped away just now. Like a cat.”

Softly, softly.

Playing at being strangers as she drifted farther off.

A trace of regret showed in Jegal Hwi’s face as he looked toward the tide of people that had swallowed Seolhwa.

*****

[I can’t stand noise. If people start recognizing me, I won’t be able to roam as I please, and what a nuisance that would be.]

Out on the street, Seolhwa walked along crunching on a candied fruit skewer with the Imoogi.

Even after completing her third preliminary, hardly anyone recognized her.

With eight stages running at once, the crowd’s gaze was scattered.

[It’s a pity this peaceful spell won’t last long.]

—It isn’t all that peaceful even now.

Why did she slip out of the arena and roam the streets whenever she had the chance?

To check with her own eyes whether anything suspicious was afoot.

[Yet since the tournament began, no one particularly suspect has shown themselves, has there not?]

—We can’t relax until we identify the backer.

Right up until the tournament drew near, they had strutted about brazenly, impersonating the Sado Union; the instant it began, they went silent—that was what made it unsettling.

As if they were plotting something.

[They’re not blind. With the Martial Alliance’s warriors and the Sado Union’s elites drawn up like this—]

—Hush.

Seolhwa stopped and drew up her senses.

Again.

Someone was tailing her again.

The street was packed, but she could feel it clearly.

From the moment she left the Martial Alliance compound, someone had been steadily following her.

[Shall we go?]

—No.

She stilled the squirming Imoogi in her sleeve.

—We shake them now.

At the same time—

Tak—!

Seolhwa darted into a nearby alley.

“!”

The Bamboo-Hatted Man, who had been watching her, jolted and hurried after her.

But when he reached the alley where she’d vanished, all that remained was a single slender stick of wood.

He stared at the empty alley a moment longer, then melted back into the crowd.

****

“Greetings to the Union Lord.”

Sado Union, Wuhan branch.

Ever since the impostors appeared, the Sado Union had been on full alert.

They had kept a careful station within the martial world; now they were on the verge of becoming its public enemy—it was only natural.

Since the tournament began, the Sado Union had been secretly patrolling the streets of Wuhan.

If the Martial Alliance publicly governed the tournament, the Sado Union had taken charge of the places beyond its reach.

“The backer?”

As the Sado Union Lord took the head seat, the Hao Sect Master and the Union’s officers—who had already been standing by—sat down.

“We’ve identified them.”

Seolhwa looked to the Hao Sect Master.

At last, the backer behind those impersonating the Sado Union had been revealed.

“Where?”

Tension drew across the Hao Sect Master’s face.

She wetted her lips briefly and spoke.

“The Green Forest.”

Seolhwa’s brows knit beneath her mask.

“The Green Forest...?”