The preliminaries ended, and several days of rest were granted before the main event.

It was to let the contestants shed the fatigue piled up during the prelims and to draft the bracket based on the preliminary results.

Tap— tap-tap—

In that interval, Seolhwa went to find the Green Forest War King.

His abode was Mount Wutai in Shanxi.

A mountain northeast of Xingxian, where Seop Mugwang and Chor Yeon had stayed.

Clack—

Dusk, as the sun sank and darkness began to settle.

After running without rest for two full days, Seolhwa reached Shanxi and stopped before a small temple halfway up Moon-Bound Peak on Mount Wutai.

From the temple came the steady cadence of sutras being chanted.

[Is the Green Forest War King really in a place like this?]

To the eye, it was just a plain little temple.

Hardly the sort of place you’d expect the chief of the Green Forest—master of seventy-two stockades—to reside. It was quiet and peaceful.

— I told you before. The Green Forest War King is a Shaolin defrocked monk.

Even in the previous life, when the Green Forest War King’s whereabouts were revealed, many were puzzled.

But once it came out that he was a defrocked monk of Shaolin, the uproar shifted from where he lived to where he came from.

[So he made it all the way to chief of the Green Forest—and still lives as a monk?]

— You’ve got the order wrong. A monk—the War King—became chief of the Green Forest.

He broke the precepts and was defrocked, yet never once thought of himself as anything other than a monk.

[What a strange one.]

— Just in case, be ready.

[This seat is always ready.]

Black qi swirled around Seolhwa as she took on the aspect of the Shadowless Demon God.

Deliberately letting her presence be felt, she approached the temple.

At some point the steady clack of the wooden fish stopped dead, and the chant of sutras fell silent as well.

Hooo...

Seolhwa did not slacken her guard.

The Green Forest War King was a Flowering-realm master ranked among the ten foremost under heaven.

Even if she used the Imoogi’s power, she could not guarantee victory.

Step. Step.

As she drew near, Seolhwa halted, sensing the qi emanating from within the temple.

Vmmm...

A vast, menacing presence spilled out from the temple.

Like a beast hidden in a cave, baring its wariness with a low growl.

The resonance made her whole body prickle.

Even so, Seolhwa did not retreat.

Vmmmm—

Answering the power rolling out of the temple, she released a mightier surge of her own.

At dusk, deep in a quiet mountain, for a moment the qi of two predators clashed in fury.

Huff—

The temple doors swung wide, and a hulking monk stepped into view.

His garb was that of a monk to the letter, but the force he exuded was far too baleful to be called Shaolin cultivation.

Layered atop it was a keen, killing intent.

He didn’t even think to hide it.

At last—worthy of the Green Forest’s chief.

“Who are you, and how did you call me out?”

“Please. You’re the one who called me out.”

A tic jumped in the Green Forest War King’s brow.

With that scowl, he looked all the more forbidding.

“What do you... Ah. You’re the Shadowless Demon God.”

“Right.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Finding the chief of a bunch of bandits is nothing.”

The Green Forest War King’s lip curled.

Even his smile was vicious.

“If you’re so capable, why come all the way here? You could handle a trifling matter on your own. I daresay you already know how to fix it.”

“I do.”

In truth, the Green Forest’s impersonation of the Sado Union could be solved by killing a handful of them.

Make the deaths as cruel and agonizing as possible and set them as an example, and those coin-grubbing brigands would never dare borrow the Sado Union’s name again.

However—

“I don’t desire meaningless killing. You slighted us by posing as the Sado Union, but it isn’t a deed that merits death.”

“For the head of the filthy Unorthodox, you’re dripping with chivalry. So—you came to beg a favor of me?”

“As if.”

Whooosh—

Dense shadow rippled around Seolhwa.

Blood-dark killing intent braided through it, and beneath the mask her eyes flashed.

“I came to warn you.”

“...”

“Stop meddling with the Sado Union. If you want one more day of playing monk in this place, you’d best quit here and now.”

At her provocation, the Green Forest War King’s killing intent thickened.

He thrust out his clenched fist, and the prayer beads wound around his arm coiled down to wrap his hand.

“Do not slander my Buddha-heart.”

“For a defrocked monk to preach Buddha-heart—there’s a contradiction, isn’t there?”

In that instant, the Green Forest War King’s fist whipped out.

Beads lashing, his punch ripped toward Seolhwa fast enough to seem to tear the air.

She did not evade the oncoming blow.

“Monk Gong Cheon was in danger.”

“!”

Hoo—

His fist halted before her mask.

Wind coiled around them like a miniature cyclone, then scattered.

Seolhwa continued.

“By chance our paths crossed and I could help, so his life is safe—but he lost an arm.”

A tremor ran through the War King’s fist.

Beyond that great knuckle, his discomposure {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} was plain.

‘In the previous life, the Green Forest began to move when the Shaolin Abbot died and Shaolin sealed its gates.’

All of a sudden the Green Forest War King led his men down from the mountain and attacked the Blood Demon Cult.

In the end, the entire Green Forest was absorbed into the Blood Demon Cult—but the sudden battle with the Green Forest inflicted heavy damage on the Blood Demon Cult as well.

Back then, why did the Green Forest attack the Blood Demon Cult?

‘In hindsight, it’s simple.’

Revenge.

A defrocked monk who had to leave the main temple but never forgot his master and brothers—upon news of their deaths, he was driven to a bloody vengeance.

“If you don’t believe me, go and see for yourself. But if you want to protect Shaolin, you would do well not to ignore my warning.”

The Green Forest War King gave no answer.

But the force and killing intent he’d been exuding had long since dissipated.

“I’ll take that as you understanding.”

She was turning to go, leaving him standing there with a complicated look—

“Someone came here—wearing a mask and a bamboo hat like you.”

Seolhwa looked back at him.

“A man with a long scar on his face. Even the mask couldn’t hide that much, so I remember.”

“...What?”

“He incited us to stir up trouble by impersonating the Sado Union. Said that was how we could protect Shaolin.”

“!”

“Yes. He said the same thing you just did.”

Seolhwa went rigid.

Shock colored the face hidden beneath her mask.

A long scar. A bamboo hat. And a mask.

Him.

The one who goaded the physician into stealing Namgoong Mucheon’s mandate of heaven, and pushed Soryong into spiriting away the Namgoong spy.

Now he had incited the Green Forest to sow discord between the Sado Union and the Martial Alliance.

‘Who is he?’

Who could he be, to know that the Green Forest War King is a defrocked monk of Shaolin?

At this point in time, the Blood Demon Cult had no interest in the Green Forest and thus did not know the War King’s identity.

So the likely suspect, the Fourth Blood Lord, was probably not the one.

But the fact that the Green Forest War King was a Shaolin defrocked monk was information that no one—not just the Blood Demon Cult—should know.

‘Who in the world...’

“Tell me.”

“...”

“Whose word should I believe?”

****

The main event of the tournament was held in the Martial Alliance’s main arena.

Across from the great dueling stage, in the front pavilion, sat the Martial Alliance Lord, the fourteen Elders of the Martial Alliance, and the heads of the various factions, while spectator stands ringed the stage.

The waiting area for the main-event contestants was on the first floor of the pavilion, out of the spectators’ line of sight.

“Namgoong Woong, win!!”

“Snow-Plum Sabre! Snow-Plum Sabre!”

When all the Elders were seated, the Martial Alliance Lord Namgoong Mucheon stepped to the fore of the pavilion.

At the raise of his hand, everyone in the arena fell silent.

Namgoong Mucheon slowly swept his gaze over those gathered in the arena and wore a faint smile.

He called out, short and sharp.

“Begin!”

Before the words had even finished—

Boom—! Boom-boom—!

The drums announcing the start of the tournament thundered.

“Waaahhh!!”

Roused by that majestic beat, the crowd erupted, each chanting the names of those they supported.

“Golden Lotus Rain! Golden Lotus Rain!”

“Jegal Hwi! Jegal Hwi!”

Amid the cheers, the main event began.

Boom-boom— boom-boom-boom—

The first bout pitted the unaffiliated spearman, Silver-Flash Spear, against Namgoong Woong of the Namgoong Clan.

“Victory conditions are the same as in the prelims. Only—don’t expect me to stop the match easily. Give me a good, rousing fight.”

Seop Mugwang, Chief Division Lord of the Martial Alliance and judge for the main event, chuckled and patted Namgoong Woong and Silver-Flash Spear on the shoulder.

Unlike the flustered spearman, Namgoong Woong was used to Seop’s antics; he gave Seop a brief cupped-fist salute.

Seop pointed to opposite sides of the stage.

The two saluted each other and went to their marks.

Boom-boom-boom—!

The drumbeat signaling the start of the bout rolled out.

“...”

“...”

The two assumed their guard stances.

In an instant, the mischief in Seop Mugwang’s eyes sharpened to a keen edge.

As he lifted his arm, the warriors around the stage, each bearing a Martial Alliance banner, raised their flags.

The moment Seop’s arm fell, they drove the flags down in unison.

At that instant—

“Haah—!”

Tak!

The spearman, Silver-Flash Spear, leveled his spear at Namgoong Woong and charged.

Namgoong Woong drew a short breath.

And then—

Tat—!

He, too, raised his sword and sprang toward Silver-Flash Spear.

Swick—!

The long spear thrust for Woong’s flank before he could quite close.

Pang—!

A small blast of compressed air popped; Woong’s hem tore.

Tat—!

As if he’d anticipated it, Woong kicked off the ground, leaping as he unfolded his sword art.

Azure Sky Flying Swallow Sword!

A body like a swallow winging up into the blue vault.

Second Form: Heaven-Soaring Sky!

Sh-sh-sh-sh-shik—!

Blue qi shimmered off Namgoong Woong’s blade like heat-haze.

Tadatat—

Sensing danger, Silver-Flash Spear worked his footwork, retreating to open distance.

Takakakakang—!

Edges sparked; qi collided.

To close the gap, Woong swung with aggressive cuts; to deny that gap, the spearman swept his shaft, batting aside each stroke.

An inch.

A fight decided by a single inch.

Clang—!

Woong knocked aside the spearhead; as the shaft tilted—

Kagagagagak—!

He didn’t miss: he scraped down the shaft, shoving it aside as he drove into the opening.

“Hup!”

When Woong came within two steps, the spearman suddenly clenched on his grip.

The shaft bent outward like a bowstring away from Woong.

Slaaash—!

And when the bent shaft snapped back to true, using its rebound—

“!”

Woong realized—too late to dodge. The returning shaft was simply too fast.

Thuuud—!