Chapter : 148 Sword Demon Show-Off

Baekmu Martial Arts Academy – Instructor Division.

In the spacious auditorium, over a hundred instructors were gathered.

These were the notable names, roughly one-tenth of the entire instructor roster.

Aside from the sheer number of students they had to teach, each sect and clan wanted to place as many instructors as possible into Baekmu Academy.

“Even if there’s no age limit, many of them would be hesitant to enroll as students,”
thought Peng Mando, sweeping his gaze over the crowd of instructors.

Each one was a martial arts master of formidable renown.

It had been ages since such a concentration of talent had been seen in one place.

“Compared to the decline of the Martial Alliance thirty years ago, this is remarkable progress,” Peng Mando chuckled.

He couldn’t help but laugh at how all this could have been done earlier, yet excuses were made and deployments refused.

“In the skirmish with the Pasun Blood Sect, only the Gu-Bail factions of Shaolin and Kai provided aid. Even now, countless people are dying in the Yeop region.”

Even just the instructors gathered here could ease the pressure at the frontlines.

The heads of the sects and clans had pushed them into Baekmu Academy purely for internal power struggles.

“Well, it’s fortunate they gathered at least this way. That girl, Hyebong, really used her brains. I guess desire is what moves people,” Peng Mando mused, observing the clusters of instructors and categorizing them.

Broadly, they could be divided into instructors from the Baekga Alliance and those from the Martial Alliance.

Within the Martial Alliance, there were pro-war, anti-war, and neutral factions.

“It’s inevitable that the Baekga instructors are fewer—after all, the Nine Hundred Contention is in full swing, and they can’t pull out too many masters. And perhaps it’s lucky that the Martial Alliance is so divided.”

Peng Mando shook his head, unsure whether to laugh or cry.

“In any case, the important thing is not the instructors, but the Student Council. Baekmu Academy exists for the students.”

The Student Council had independent operational authority, and the student council president was granted command rights.

All the sects and clans that agreed to the academy’s founding recognized this authority.

Even if a student council president wasn’t from their faction, they couldn’t remove students without justification.

“Truly a miniature Martial Alliance. No wonder they’re fighting fiercely.”

As Peng Mando analyzed the surroundings, a commanding voice suddenly resonated through the auditorium.

“Amitabha. I, novice monk Damhae (湛偕), will convey the words on behalf of the venerable Golden Sword Master who could not attend.”

A middle-aged monk in yellow robes spoke.

He was short, about five feet three inches, but his body looked as solid as a stone.

He was the Baekbo Vajra (Hundred-Step Vajra), one of the Four Great Vajras of Shaolin, known among the public as one of the Eighty-Eight Victorious Vajras.

“The venerable master is delayed finalizing matters within the Amipa, but he is expected to arrive before the opening ceremony. Please be at ease.”

“Hehe, if the venerable master is busy, what about the Sword King of our sect? I think he would suit the academy head better than anyone.”

A black-robed martial artist with wild hair chuckled at Damhae’s words.

Those around him felt both discomfort and unease.

“The Gongdong Sect… Absolute Killing Demon Hand, huh.”

One of the Nine Old Sects, Gongdong, had a fierce martial reputation. Their nickname sounded more like a demon than a martial artist.

Their philosophy: to use demonic power to subdue demons—a practice of mastering the demonic arts while despising them.

“Even within the Nine Old Sects, they’re often shunned for getting too close to demonic power.”

Despite this, their skill was real. The Green-River’s headquarters being tied down in Gansu was largely Gongdong’s doing.

The Absolute Killing Demon Hand smiled faintly amidst everyone’s focused gaze, showing confidence and fearlessness.

“Amitabha. I know well the spirit of the Demon-Slaying Sword King, but please, Master Kyunggeo, refrain from bringing up past matters,” said Damhae.

“Hehe, just wanted to lighten the mood. Isn’t this too stiff? Let’s introduce ourselves since we’ll be working together.”

Kyunggeo glanced around and continued:

“I am Kyunggeo. My favorite pastime is cracking demon heads; second favorite is cracking bandit balls.”

“Ahem… hmm…”

Several traditionalists coughed nervously at his bluntness.

But Kyunggeo ignored them.

“You may call me Kyunggeo. ‘Master’ is such a formal title, isn’t it? Let’s get along. With some sparring and bickering, we’ll be fast friends.”

He looked around expectantly, but no one met his gaze. Frustrated, he scratched his head.

“Tch, seems my reputation precedes me. Maybe I acted a bit too boldly?”

“Hey, shut up. Why are you such a show-off (觀悰)?”

An elderly man with white hair scolded him.

“Ah, the important Master of Kunlun, I’ve managed to bring him here.”

Peng Mando’s eyes sparkled at the sight.

The Kunlun Sect was notorious for rarely leaving Cheonghae, but could not be ignored in discussions of orthodox methods.

The elder’s presence signaled their success in bringing a Kunlun master for support.

“Show-off? I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Do you realize that if all hundred instructors spoke, how long would it take? They’re not silent because they’re obedient.”

“Hah, if a mouth exists, it speaks; if… well, it acts. Who needs permission?”

“You shameless wretch! A Daoist with such manners! I’ll discipline you like a minor sect member!”

Master Yo-gyeon scolded Kyunggeo, but those perceptive could tell he deeply cared for him.

By criticizing Kyunggeo, he subtly protected him from worse consequences.

“Ah, they must know each other. Makes sense; Kunlun is the first line against the Demonic Sect, Gongdong the second. Interaction is natural.”

Kunlun was like a hermit in the Nine Old Sects, minimally involved in internal faction struggles.

“Ahem! Master Damhae, now that this elder has spoken, please continue.”

“Amitabha. Thank you,” Damhae said, bringing his palms together.

“As you know, the placement exams are ongoing outside. They will be divided broadly by Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, and within that by Plum, Orchid, Chrysanthemum, and Bamboo groups.”

“So, the weakest are Spring-Plum, and the strongest are Winter-Bamboo?”

A dark-haired instructor asked, and Damhae nodded.

“Exactly. As Master Hakgyeong said, classes and groups are divided by skill. Later, groups will be further divided into Blue, Red, Yellow, White, and Black.”

“Four seasons and Four Gentlemen followed by Five Elements? So the latter isn’t based on skill?”

“Correct. After all placement exams, the academy head will personally organize the groups.”

Everyone nodded. The impartiality of the Golden Sword Master was well-known.

“I see… the high-level students are kept separate to prevent problems,” thought Peng Mando.

“The Winter-Bamboo group will gather the strongest Dragon and Phoenix candidates. One misstep and a huge fight could occur.”

The Golden Sword Master aimed to separate students like water and oil into five groups.

“Naturally, Spring-Plum groups will be the largest, with hundreds per group.”

“Hah, but the lower-tier students shouldn’t even be admitted,” someone muttered.

“Not entirely. If they have brains, they need hands and feet too.”

“Well, it’s an academy in name only,” someone chuckled.

The instructors began speculating on future plans based on Damhae’s words.

“Amitabha. Also, before the student council president is elected, the academy head will directly command the students for one semester.”

As Damhae mentioned the ‘student council president,’ all instructors’ eyes turned toward him.

“A semester lasts six months, divided into two halves. Each half contains two three-month periods: a study period and a practice period.”

“Study and practice periods?”

“Yes, three months learning theory within the academy, three months practicing outside.”

“This is serious. The Black Daoist sects and the Nine Heavenly Sects better watch out.”

All instructors knew the practice period marked the start of the White Daoist martial counterattacks.

“So… who will lead?”

“Qualifications?”

“Authority?”

The instructors gazed at Damhae with anticipation. Only one announcement remained.

“Amitabha. Only students in the Winter-Bamboo group may establish battalions.”

“I see…”

“Fair, indeed!”

Damhae continued calmly:

“Minimum ten, maximum one hundred. Battalion leaders must achieve results during the practice period.”

No one was unaware of what those ‘results’ meant.

“Guangdong is a gold mine. Hunting the Paecheon guys will yield abundant merit.”

“The Yeop region is ideal. Defeating Pasun zealots will quickly boost fame!”

“Green Forest suppression is fine too. Popular support will follow.”

While instructors planned, Damhae added:

“The student who achieves the greatest results this semester will become the Student Council President.”

A brief silence.

Then the auditorium erupted with ambition, desire, and energy.

“So it begins. The competition that will shape the next generation.”

Peng Mando looked around, sensing similar expressions all around.

“Gu-Pae probably isn’t aiming for the presidency,” he thought, recalling one enthusiastic nephew.

“And Sonhwa’s son… right, the top candidate.”

He muttered the name of the most famous current post-war martial artist in his mind:

“Namgoong Hoyeon.”

“Namgoong Hoyeon!”

Bang!

A man burst through the door, shouting urgently:

“Namgoong Hoyeon has arrived to take the placement exam!”

“Impossible. Today is Spring-Summer group exam; Autumn-Winter is the day after tomorrow,” Damhae frowned.

High-ranking students had been arranged to take exams separately to avoid accidents.

“He just lined up blindly!”

“What? Send him back immediately.”

“Well… the crowd gathered to watch Namgoong Hoyeon’s exam numbers over a thousand. We can’t turn them away.”

*”Hah…” Damhae sighed.

Peng Mando pinched his forehead.

“Sister said he was quiet and nice… this is a troublemaker!”

Kyunggeo’s muttering perfectly reflected the sentiment of everyone in the auditorium.

“Hah, the ultimate show-off, huh?”