'How did someone who's already entered the Sun Vein end up here?'
The first emotion to surface was bewilderment.
'So it wasn't just that one Seomun fellow from the start.'
What followed was disappointment and revulsion toward the Sun Vein leadership for pulling such transparent schemes so brazenly.
It was only natural.
What he intended to seize and manipulate from behind the scenes was not merely the Moon Vein, but the entire Sun and Moon Gate.
From the standpoint of someone who harbored no particular deep grudge over the annihilation of the Taewon Yul Family, the Sun Vein's insistence on resorting to such sordid tactics time and again could only breed considerable disappointment.
Above all, the examiner's blatant avoidance of his gaze—a dead giveaway if ever there was one—also stirred no small amount of irritation.
'And what do they think that will accomplish?'
Because even if the opponent before him had received high-level Blazing Yang Qi Arts instruction from the Sun Vein—
The moment any of it was exposed in this arena, Yul Hwi would immediately counter with his Extreme Yin Qi, and the man would clearly be unable to accomplish a thing.
'What is the point of doing something so obviously idiotic?'
Between the formidable martial arts of the Moon Master and her elders, and the existence of the Martial Vein he had just learned about from Baek Seol—
From the perspective of someone whose expectations for the Sun and Moon Gate had been soaring, the Sun Vein's repeated displays of disappointment drew sigh after sigh from him.
Even if the man stubbornly wielded his Blazing Yang Qi Arts, determined to eliminate him here and now before he could formally enter the Moon Vein—
Or even if he concealed that sinister intent and subtly leveraged his Blazing Yang Qi to pressure and intimidate him—
'From initial planning through feasibility assessment to execution—every single aspect earns a failing grade.'
By the cold standards of an assassin, that is.
This was truly a botched effort with an abysmally low chance of success.
At the very least, anyone who had heard even a secondhand account of how he had aided the Moon Vein's elders back in Taewon should never have attempted such a reckless and idiotic operation.
'Has the Blazing Yang Qi packed their skulls so full that their intelligence has dropped?'
It was bad enough that such a thought even crossed his mind.
"......"
Having already dismissed the examiner—who had retreated to the far edge of the arena—from his attention, Yul Hwi focused entirely on the man before him.
'They say eligibility is revoked entirely once you pass forty.'
The swordsman before him had a bearing that placed him right around that age.
Judging by the hilt, worn smooth and shiny, and the wrapping wound around it, so frayed it was nearly filthy, one could vaguely surmise that this man had not idled away his years in the martial world.
A seasoned, mature pinnacle-level swordsman.
That was the true nature of the opponent he had to defeat at the tail end of today's Vein Entry Trials.
And he had to do it with both his Extreme Yin Qi—which had become practically synonymous with his innate internal energy—and every technique of the Phantom Slaughter Demonic Art sealed away.
'What a strange feeling this is.'
He had always operated as an assassin, holding an overwhelming advantage over his targets and raining down one-sided attacks.
Yet somehow, in this second life, a day like this had actually come.
'Then let's see what he's got.'
Perhaps wary of the overwhelming displays in the earlier bouts, his opponent stood perfectly still with his sword held straight—showing no intention of attacking first.
In that case, disagreeable as it was, there was no choice but to open the flow himself.
Step. Step.
"...!"
The distance between them was a mere two jang.
On this small arena, just three jang to a side, Yul Hwi's first choice was provocation.
Step. Step.
"Tch!"
A calculated measure, one might say, to sow even greater confusion in an opponent whose mind was already bursting with a tangle of thoughts.
'Now then. What will you do?'
Despite taking shorter strides than usual, just four steps had closed the gap to a single jang.
By the standards of a pinnacle-level martial artist, this was virtually the same as standing close enough to feel each other's breath.
'Show me what's inside.'
Flex, flex.
Lightly loosening the fingers of both hands as if ready to strike at any moment, Yul Hwi kept his gaze fixed on the man's sword-gripping right shoulder and both legs, never looking away for even an instant.
Step.
The moment he took one more step forward—
DART!
'?! He moves like that from here?'
The opponent's response sent a faint ripple through Yul Hwi's mind, which had been settled as still as a mirror-still lake.
Because the man had retreated.
Within a distance where he could have simply swung his sword and landed a blow, he had chosen to pull back as if fleeing.
Considering that this was an arena where the outcome had to be decided, it was a difficult choice to readily understand.
TAP.
"Hwuup!"
And the instant his left foot caught the very edge of the arena by a hair's breadth—
"Chahaaaat!"
SWOOOSH!
From the blade of his opponent, who had converted a deep inhalation into a fierce battle cry, a Sword Wind of formidable power came tearing forth.
The sound of air being shredded alone was enough to tell that sword qi had been woven into it.
The distance between them was now too close to opt for evasion, and on this cramped arena, the Sword Wind's breadth and destructive radius were far too great and wide to find anywhere to dodge.
'So this was his aim...!'
By regulation, falling off the arena meant automatic disqualification and defeat.
Yet trying to meet that Sword Wind head-on, given how difficult it was to evade, turned his earlier bold approach into what now seemed like a reckless choice.
Having focused solely on when the man would draw out his hidden Blazing Yang Qi, he had been caught off guard rather badly.
But he could not afford to stand here endlessly regretting what was already done.
"Hup!"
In the end, for the first time in today's Vein Entry Trials—no, for the first time since leaving Taewon—Yul Hwi drew the dagger from his breast, and his expression froze over like a sheet of ice.
'No choice.'
The razor-edged Sword Wind that had already closed to arm's reach.
It was the masterful, fully formed finishing blow of a seasoned pinnacle swordsman.
And to meet that wily assault, Yul Hwi unhesitatingly slashed upward in a diagonal arc with the dagger gripped in a reverse hold in his right hand.
To cut through a Sword Wind forged from sword qi, one naturally needed sword qi of equal or greater caliber.
Therefore, unable to reveal his Extreme Yin Qi first, the solution he chose as a stopgap was to partially adapt and deploy a single technique from the Phantom Slaughter Demonic Art.
One of the killing techniques from the old Phantom Slaughter Sect—which had ceased to be a demonic art and which he had recently renamed Extreme Kill Art, in the process of being redefined anew.
Extreme Kill Art.
Traceless Life Seizure.
A strike stripped clean of the Phantom Slaughter Sect's characteristic gloomy killing intent and demonic qi.
It shared the same name, form, and foundation as the original Phantom Slaughter Demonic Art technique, yet the covert killing intent and demonic qi that had been embedded so deeply they could never be erased were now completely purged—a flash of light born of utter dispassion.
The result—
"?!"
The massive Sword Wind that had filled the space between the wide-eyed opponent and Yul Hwi vanished without a trace.
'This much should be fine.'
He felt a small amount of cold qi scattering like sunlight shattered on rippling water below his knees, but fortunately the surroundings had grown rather dim, and it seemed no one had noticed.
'I can't completely suppress my Extreme Yin Qi when externalizing my internal qi, after all.'
This was something even Yul Hwi himself could not help.
Having been forced to deploy a killing art he had no intention of revealing publicly was already an unforeseen development in its own right.
'In any case, the conclusion is clear.'
If he wanted to avoid showing any more of his hand on this cramped arena, he could not afford to yield the initiative to an opponent who was clearly a seasoned swordsman.
'While I'm at it, I might as well find out when he plans to bring out that irksome Blazing Yang Qi.'
The opponent, having just now mastered his surprise, was moving to resume his attack.
Locking eyes squarely with him, Yul Hwi's lips pressed into a hard, flat line.
'Your turn now.'
Whoosh.
The late evening sky had already blanketed the space above the arena in darkness.
With torches only just being lit here and there around the grounds, Yul Hwi's figure—standing in one corner of the small, three-jang-wide arena—dissolved into thin air as if evaporating into the void.
***
SLICE.
"Khrgh!"
"Halt! Stop!"
A mere quarter of an hour after he had begun pouring out his devastating, one-sided offensive in earnest, the winner of this year's summer solstice Vein Entry Trials was decided.
"The victor is Yul Hwi of the Taewon Yul Family! Yul Hwi is the champion of this Vein Entry Trial!"
"......"
The examiner, eager to leave this accursed arena behind as soon as possible, bellowed the resounding declaration.
Murmur, murmur.
Whisper, whisper.
Yet the crowd, which should have erupted in thunderous cheers and fervent acclaim, was strangely subdued—restraining itself from raising its voice.
"What on earth was that martial art......"
"Did you feel it? It was as if his very existence vanished......"
Whisper, whisper.
Murmur, murmur.
They merely huddled in small groups, exchanging opinions in hushed tones, as if wary of drawing attention.
"Heh!"
THUD!
That was an entirely natural reaction on their part.
In all the years of the Sun and Moon Gate's Vein Entry Trials, held twice annually, there had never been a single instance of a participant deploying any martial art other than the Sun and Moon Gate's foundational arts.
And now, the first outsider ever to be recruited—the second son of the Taewon Yul Family, drifted in from the distant lands of Sandong—had suddenly unleashed some inscrutable martial art of unknown origin and made short work of a seasoned pinnacle swordsman.
"Hey, are you all right? A stretcher! Bring a stretcher! Quickly!"
Below the neck, his body—upper and lower alike—was draped in shredded rags, blood pouring from him in streams.
One look at that gruesome state, as if thin, tight scores had been carved into a slab of pork before it was laid upon the grill, and wariness surged unbidden, along with an instinctive urge to recoil.
Step. Step.
Yet the very person who had planted this quiet dread in the hearts of the crowd was merely descending from the arena at an unhurried pace, as if nothing at all had happened.
The fact that not a single drop of blood marred his pristine attire naturally deepened the crowd's fear all the more.
'Fear is born of ignorance toward the unknown.'
The advice that the Former Sect Master had imparted to him immediately after he passed the Demon's Gate long ago—words that had guided the entirety of his life.
As he silently reflected on them, Baek Seol approached with a thoroughly blanched face, inching closer with halting steps.
"Young Master Yul......"
"You look as though you've seen a ghost."
"...!"
"Let us part here for today. Fighting bout after bout has left me rather fatigued."
With strides that declared no reply was needed, he trudged toward his quarters.
His gaze was fixed straight ahead, aimed at the gap the crowd had split wide open on either side of him.
'So he held back until the very end......'
But the thin thread of qi sense he had covertly extended was firmly latched onto his most recent opponent—the man now lying silently on a stretcher as it was carried further and further away.
The opponent who, even while his entire body was ravaged, had refrained from unleashing his true art—the Blazing Yang Qi Arts—until the bitter end.
'That man.'
But Yul Hwi had seen it clearly.
The vicious murderous intent and loathing that had clung to the man's pupils throughout the entire fight.
That was precisely why he had deliberately cut only the outer layer of fabric and skin to induce excessive bleeding, bringing this farce of a bout to a halt.
He had sensed it instinctively.
That his opponent—who would fully recover in a mere hour or two—would without question come seeking him again within a few days.
'When that time comes, I'll pry every last thing out of him.'
What schemes he harbored, and why someone unaffiliated with the Sun Vein had learned the Blazing Yang Qi Arts.
And—
'Why he directed that venomous glare at me, a complete stranger he had never once met before.'