Chapter 166……………………………….
The World’s Greatest Rising Star (1)
“Wow… today…”
“Seriously…”
“…How are there even more people?”
The Black Heaven Four Monsters stared at the massive crowd filling the front of Seonghyeop Hall and let out exclamations of disbelief.
They had seen this scene many times already and thought they would no longer be surprised by the size of the crowd—but today it was different. There wasn’t even room to set a foot down.
“It must be because today’s the final match. Still… this is way too many people.”
“Well… it is the day that decides the World’s Greatest Rising Star, after all.”
At Yeonha’s words, the Blood King stroked his beard and smiled.
He had always known that Pyeongha’s martial prowess was outstanding—but to think that in this world of hidden dragons and crouching tigers he would truly contend for the title of the greatest rising star under heaven…
‘What a remarkable kid.’
Even the Ho-Hyeol Fist technique he had learned in such a short time—Pyeongha used it at the most decisive moments, proudly lifting the Blood King’s spirits.
Everything he had learned from the Black Heaven Four Monsters was etched into each of his gestures and steps, and the practical movements he’d picked up from the Green Forest King and the bandits were fully integrated as well.
How could they not adore this child?
The saying that one could “put him in your eyes and it still wouldn’t hurt” naturally came to mind whenever they looked at Pyeongha.
With affectionate eyes, the Blood King turned to look at Pyeongha standing beside him—
“…Hmm?”
Instead of the determined resolve or eager anticipation he had expected before the match, Pyeongha’s face looked strangely downcast.
The Blood King almost asked why, but then he realized the reason.
The one who would normally be by his side at a time like this… was not here.
“Ahem… Perhaps he’s already saved us seats today as well. Though with this many people…”
“Right. We’re always so grateful to the White Blade Society Leader. After the tournament, I think we should invite him to our home at least once.”
Yeonha quickly picked up on the cue, clearly trying to shift Pyeongha’s attention elsewhere.
But Pyeongha’s expression, gloomy since breakfast, did not brighten. In the end, Black Panther sent a voice transmission to Gwangpae.
<When exactly is Baekryeong coming?>
<Didn’t I say I don’t know? I sent him to look into something.>
<Whatever it was, he should’ve made sure to watch the kid’s match. Forget Baekryeong’s troubles—Pyeongha’s sulking.>
<How was I supposed to know it would take this long? I thought he’d be back quickly.>
<And saying you didn’t know fixes it?>
<You punk? Before the match I’ll—>
“Aren’t… we going?”
Since Gwangpae, who usually cleared a path, was locked in a silent glare battle with Black Panther, Yeonha cautiously spoke up.
Snapping out of it, Gwangpae cleared his throat loudly.
“Ahem! Very well. Everyone, make way!”
His shout, infused with internal energy, drew all eyes around them.
Naturally, attention focused on Pyeongha at his side, and the crowd quickly parted to let them pass.
“It’s the Bloodless Fist!”
“The greatest rising star of the unorthodox faction!”
“You’d better win! Don’t lose to that orthodox brat!”
Most of those cheering were unorthodox martial artists.
But because of what Pyeongha had shown so far—especially his fierce battle with Dohae and the way he had boldly defeated So Gwiun—even members of the orthodox faction called out words of encouragement.
“It’ll be tough to win, but do your best!”
“Show us another great match today!”
Blushing slightly at the cheers, Pyeongha lowered his head shyly.
Seeing the smile that had finally returned to his face, Gwangpae grinned and lightly shoved his shoulder.
“Walk in front. It’s your stage.”
“…Okay!”
Pyeongha nodded vigorously and stepped forward.
Just then—
“Wait! Wait! Please move aside! I’m with them! I’m with them!”
“…Huh?”
The group turned at the voice from behind.
There stood a familiar face wrapped in bandages.
“Brother Sotae!”
“Hey, Pyeongha! See? I told you I’m with them! Let go of me! Let go!”
When Pyeongha acknowledged him, the people restraining Sotae reluctantly released him.
Freed at last, Sotae hurried over.
“It’s been a while, elders! Lady!”
“Ah, you’re still alive?”
“If you were going to greet us, you should’ve come earlier. Why now?”
“Well… I’ve been lying down this whole time. I barely managed to get out today.”
As Sotae scratched the back of his head, the Black Heaven Four Monsters chuckled.
“Just joking. Anyway, glad you look alright.”
“Thank you.”
“Brother Sotae, is it okay for you to be walking around?”
“Okay? The quack doctors tried to stop me from leaving, so I slipped out at dawn. Still, I made it in time.”
“Have you been lining up since then?”
“Yeah. I thought coming early would help, but the line was already packed outside the gates. I figured I’d wait and join you when you arrived.”
“You kept our promise. Thanks.”
“Ahem… well, I almost didn’t make it. Anyway, shall we go?”
“Yeah!”
With Sotae joining them, Pyeongha’s steps seemed lighter as he led the way.
As they entered Seonghyeop Hall—
“Waaaah!”
“The Bloodless Fist is here!”
“Bloodless Fist! Bloodless Fist!”
Thousands of spectators erupted in cheers the moment they stepped inside.
He had received many cheers before, both in matches and outside—but this was different.
The roar crashing in from all directions felt as though it pierced his skin and pounded deep into his chest.
“Oh! Elders! Over here! Over here!”
The White Blade Society Leader waved from one side of the stands.
As the group approached him, an unexpected figure stood beside him to greet them.
“You’ve arrived.”
“Baekryeong… why are you—”
“Uncle Baekryeong!”
Baekryeong, absent all morning, stood there with the White Blade Society Leader.
While Gwangpae looked stunned, Pyeongha beamed and rushed over.
“What happened? I thought you might not make it.”
“What are you talking about? Even if I couldn’t, I would have. This is the most important match of your life.”
Baekryeong looked at him more deeply than usual and patted his shoulder.
“Win. As long as you don’t let your guard down, you can.”
“Yeah. I’ll definitely win.”
Now, unlike when he first left their residence that morning, everything felt complete.
Resolve and confidence shone in Pyeongha’s eyes when the Alliance Leader’s voice rang out.
“From this moment, we proceed with the final match of the tournament! Pyeongha, disciple of the Blood King! Namgung Muhwi of the Namgung Clan! Step onto the stage!”
“Waaaah!”
“Little King Tyrant Sword!”
“Bloodless Fist! Bloodless Fist!”
The hall echoed with their nicknames.
Pyeongha took a slow breath, stepped onto the railing, and leapt down onto the platform.
Thud.
“Waaaah!”
The cheers thundered.
Watching Pyeongha below, Gwangpae turned to Baekryeong.
“Why were you waiting here? You could’ve said something.”
“I wanted to meet someone before the match began.”
“Meet? Who?”
Instead of answering, Baekryeong glanced toward the opposite side of the stands—the spot where the Myriad Divine Ghost King had sat the previous day.
“You mean him?”
“Yes. But he didn’t come. No matter how long I waited.”
“Tch… With that pride of his? After his disciple was humiliated yesterday? He’s probably hiding in his quarters.”
“He’s not there.”
“…What?”
“It seems he left last night. I thought he might at least come to watch the finals… but he’s nowhere to be seen. A pity.”
A chilling killing intent flickered briefly in Baekryeong’s eyes.
Just as Gwangpae was about to ask via voice transmission—
“Waaaah!”
Another thunderous cheer.
Namgung Muhwi had ascended the opposite stairs and walked to the center of the stage.
As arrogant as ever—but beneath his gaze today lay firm determination.
He, too, had staked much on this final.
When the two faced each other, the Alliance Leader spoke.
“The victor of this match shall earn the honor of being officially recognized by the Martial Alliance as the World’s Greatest Rising Star! However, there is one more matter to announce before we begin!”
“…Hmm?”
“Another announcement?”
After letting the murmurs settle, the Alliance Leader continued gravely.
“Including today’s winner, five rising stars who displayed outstanding performance in this tournament shall be selected! Three months from now, those five shall represent the Central Plains in a friendly competition against the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult!”
“What?!”
“The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult?!”
“A friendly competition? Really?”
“Did I hear that right?!”
The hall descended into chaos.
But only for a moment.
“Waaaah!”
“This is insane!”
“Can we go watch?! Damn it—I need to call in every favor I have in the Martial Alliance!”
The cheers rivaled even those from when Pyeongha and Namgung Muhwi first stepped onto the stage.
It was inevitable.
The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult—a fanatical sect worshiping the Heavenly Demon.
A singular force of overwhelming might, governed solely by the law of strength.
To resist their invasion of the Central Plains in the past, the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Families had formed the Martial Alliance.
When the Cult had invaded centuries ago, the martial world of the Central Plains had nearly been annihilated. Even now, their name alone evoked fear.
And now—these rising stars would test their strength against them?
Not a war of blood—but a rare chance, after centuries, to measure each other’s power.
As excitement peaked, the Alliance Leader smiled in satisfaction and raised a hand.
“Then let the final begin. Commence!”
Standing face-to-face on the platform, having heard it all, the two stared at each other with shining eyes.
“To represent in a match against the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult…”
Namgung Muhwi smiled faintly and drew his sword.
Shing.
“Not a place for someone from the unorthodox faction to meddle. Even if I defeat you, I’ll make sure to cut off at least one of your arms so you won’t dare participate.”
“I don’t plan on participating anyway. After this tournament, I have somewhere to go.”
Seokdu’s hometown—the Sun Palace in the Great Desert.
Just getting there would take nearly a month. Making it back in time for a match three months from now would not be easy.
But—
“…Someone else can go in my place. But I will never lose to you. I still have much to collect from you.”
“Never lose? Unfortunately, if resolve alone were enough to win, there would be no need to practice martial arts—”
“I never said I’d win with resolve alone.”
Pyeongha, who had been standing naturally with arms relaxed, bent his knees slightly.
“To borrow my uncles’ words… I’m going to beat you senseless. A lot.”
“…What?”
“So… it’s going to hurt. Quite a bit.”
Bang!
The moment he finished speaking, Pyeongha kicked off the ground and shot forward.
Faster than in any previous match, he closed the distance in an instant and threw a punch.
Craaaash!
To block, Namgung Muhwi swung his sword.
Sword and fist collided—and the shockwave swept across the platform floor.
