The Heaven-Slaying Sword

It was a sight to behold.

The huge arena decorated for today’s festival was adorned with all kinds of rare ornaments and flags of famous martial arts sects arranged in order.

In the center stood Sword King Namgung Hyuk, delivering his speech with a serious expression.

Ceremonial words like this Dragon-Phoenix Tournament ending successfully and satisfactorily or the martial arts world having a bright future ahead.

Although they knew it was out of necessity, the audience couldn't deny they were becoming bored.

Why wouldn't they be?

The reason they gathered here today wasn't for the Sword King's speech, was it?

The real stars of the event hadn’t even come out yet.

Everyone’s eyes were on the closed door in the middle of the arena.

[…Now, we will proceed with the main event.]

Then, Namgung Hyuk announced what they had all been waiting for.

The crowd erupted into cheers.

As he raised his hand with an indifferent face, the drums started to beat loudly.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The door opened, and a man and woman stepped out.

They were Tang Hwa-seo and Hyungong, the semifinalists.

The two people who came out walking while maintaining a certain distance between each other arrived in front of Namgung Hyuk and made a fist-palm salute.

Then Namgung Hyuk acknowledged their achievements with a ceremonial attitude as before.

There were no prizes shown.

What they would receive was a secret manual of the Alliance, which would be personally chosen by them after the event.

The audience was busy whispering while looking at the man and woman receiving the tokens.

“The Poison Phoenix has made a splendid comeback. No one can look down on her name anymore.”

“The Immortal Dragon was also brilliant. Considering his opponent, had he not participated this year, perhaps it might have been the Immortal Dragon who reached the finals.”

The people around nodded at the word ‘he’.

Ink Sword Mok Riwon.

The man who became the greatest surprise and abnormality of this year’s Dragon Phoenix Tournament and throughout the Central Plains.

As stories of him continued, audience's attention eventually turned to the next person walking up.

[Next, the second place Sword Dragon Namgung Jincheon.]

Namgung Hyuk’s voice was imbued with his majestic inner qi. His demeanor remained formal despite calling his grandson’s name.

“Woooooooo!!!”

A handsome man with sky-blue eyes and sharp features ascended to the stage as the audience cheered.

It was Namgung Jincheon.

“Seems like someone’s in a bad mood. Was the defeat that shocking?”

“Don’t even start. Have you heard what everyone in Anhui has been talking about these days? The Sword Dragon may have fallen prey to his inner demons. Some say he might never hold a sword again.”

“Hey, isn’t that too exaggerated?”

“You never know with people.”

The whispers continued.

Second place.

It was normally a result that anyone would be praised for, but not the Sword Dragon.

When the one who always came out on top suffered a shocking and humiliating defeat, the martial artists who were always eager to gossip about others, took vulgar pleasure in whispering about his downfall behind his back.

However, they weren’t entirely wrong.

Namgung Jincheon had indeed fallen to his inner demons and had been unable to sleep properly for several days.

The first time he had ever lost and the doubts that emerged with it.

They were undoubtedly eating away at Namgung Jincheon’s high self-confidence.

Namgung Hyuk looked at his grandson.

The gloomy look on his face he had never seen before and his dispirited walk irritated him.

“...Stand up straight.”

He said in a low voice.

Namgung Jincheon slightly narrowed his brows and followed his command.

“I apologize.”

“Do not show weakness. The martial world is cruel and has no mercy for the weak.”

The conversation ended with that.

Namgung Hyuk added no further admonishment, focusing merely on leading the event.

[The prize is ten thousand year cold iron. The Sword Dragon shall use this to create the sword he desires.]

A martial artist from a noble clan who had been waiting behind Namgung Hyuk came out carrying a crate the size of an adult male’s upper body.

When Namgung Jincheon made a fist-palm salute, a martial artist stood up behind him, and then they left the venue together.

[Next…]

The moment those words left his mouth, the arena fell silent.

They were all tense because they would finally get to see the protagonist of today’s event.

It wasn’t only because the star of the show had finally made his appearance.

This was the moment a new dragon would be born.

The tension in the air intensified with anticipation over the dragon title that would soon be given to him.

[…The awards for the winner will begin.]

Namgung Hyuk received a beautifully sealed letter from a noble clan martial artist.

Written inside the letter was the title that would be bestowed upon Mok RIwon today.

They had already decided on a title in advance?

Even going as far as to wrap it up formally and announce it?

No one seemed to question it.

The title of a Dragon was special.

As a symbol recognized throughout the Central Plains, it had to be chosen so carefully that even the masters of renowned sects discussed it several times before bestowing it.

Consider the title of ‘King’, as another example with a similarly complex selection process. Could you feel the weight of it now?

All eyes were glued to the letter in Namgung Hyuk’s hand as he unfolded it.

In the silent arena, Namgung Hyuk’s lips moved.

[A new dragon has been born.]

The supreme being who once reigned as king of this martial world declared.

[There is a newcomer who has shown overwhelming skills. A martial artist who has proven himself with the sword.]

He listed the feats a man had shown during the tournament.

[A man who wields a sword that is sometimes ruthless, sometimes graceful, and sometimes bold. However, even so, there is one nature he has maintained throughout.]

He defined Mok Riwon.

[A dragon that paints the very land he steps on with ink. The deepest, darkest black, somberly shining, and thus proclaiming his existence. The orthodox martial arts world will henceforth know him by this name.]

It was the nature that defined him.

[Ink Dragon. Step onto the stage.]

Ink Dragon Mok Riwon.

The man who would be called that from now on came out through the door.

The silence was broken.

“WOOOOOOOW!!!”

A deafening noise erupted throughout the scorching venue; plunged into the heart of that frenzy was a man flaunting his bright smile.

On the stage, Namgung Hyuk said to Mok Riwon who had finally arrived in front of him.

[Congratulations on your victory.]

He handed over the token with those words and following him was a man from Shaolin, Fist Dragon Il-woon.

[The prize is the Lesser Rejuvenation Pill. The Ink Dragon shall receive this and strive to contribute to the justice of the martial arts world.]

The ceremony concluded.

Namgung Hyuk waved his hand and dismissed Mok Riwon, who proceeded to leave the arena.

But the passion and heat in the venue remained lively.

Although the awards ceremony ended short and sweet, the excitement didn’t die down even through the tournament’s end. In fact, it continued long after the tournament was over and night had fallen.

It was because today, a new dragon was born in the martial world.

* * *

Mok Riwon stood in the middle of a secret room with a beaming smile, inwardly shouting his new title.

‘Ink Dragon!’

It was a pity it wasn’t Heroic Dragon, but it was better than nothing.

After all, wasn’t it none other than the title of a Dragon?

The title that was only given to the rising stars representing the Orthodox Faction was bestowed upon him as well.

From now on, where he went, he would be called a Dragon.

If someone asked his identity, he would be able to say, ‘The martial world calls me Ink Dragon!’

‘The people are calling me Ink Dragon…!’

Imagining that scene, Mok Riwon clenched his fists excitedly, overcome by emotions.

Fist Dragon Il-woon looked at Mok Riwon awkwardly.

‘You look truly happy...’

It wasn’t like he couldn’t understand how he was feeling.

He also couldn’t fall asleep and was grinning from head to ear the day he received the title of Fist Dragon.

Of course, he wasn’t happy about his own results, but he sympathized with those feelings.

“Benefactor Mok, congratulations on your victory.”

“Ah! Thank you! I showed an unsightly appearance for a moment being so happy!”

Mok Riwon’s cheeks turned bright red while Il-woon smiled deeply and extended the box towards Mok Riwon.

“Well then, shall we begin?”

A box the size of a human fist.

The moment it opened, Mok Riwon let out an exclamation.

“Oh…!”

A pungent scent filled the secret room.

At the same time, a refreshing air filled his lungs.

The Lesser Rejuvenation Pill.

The phenomenon occurred when one of Shaolin’s signature spiritual elixirs came in contact with air.

Mok Riwon swallowed his saliva and reached out to the pill neatly sitting in the box.

“Is it fine to consume it as is?”

“Yes, while you may absorb the qi of the spiritual medicine, my disciples and I will set up protection.”

“Understood! Now, excuse my impoliteness!”

“Go ahead.”

Mok Riwon didn’t wait a second longer and sat cross-legged. While doing so, he carefully removed the packaging of the Lesser Rejuvenation Pill and swallowed it.

‘Whoa…!’

The moment it entered his mouth, the scent burst out with a ‘hwaak’, softly melting as it touched his saliva.

As the spiritual elixir went down his stomach and awakened his senses, everything became vivid, and he quickly recited his master’s esoteric verbal teachings.

Saaaaa–

An ink-black qi flowed out.

Mok Riwon couldn’t help but admire the purity he felt as the Lesser Rejuvenation Pill was being absorbed.

As expected of Shaolin’s spiritual elixir.

‘How can it be so pure?’

This purity was different from the inner core of the Man-Faced Spider he had consumed before; there wasn’t even a single speck of dirty qi or impurities within.

Originally, if the qi was not one’s own, there was bound to be resistance while absorbing it, but the Lesser Rejuvenation Pill was willingly giving up its own self and becoming a part of him as if it would gladly harmonize with any qi.

His dantian gradually increased in size, the qi flowing through his meridians growing violently. Mok Riwon’s cultivation was extremely unstable due to the Supreme Demonic Body, greatly pleased with its increased power.

‘Calm down.’

Mok Riwon firmly grasped the reins of his qi and manifested a world within his mind.

There, the constellation of the sword was still inferior in its radiance compared to the others.

Mok Riwon pushed the rampaging qi under his control into that constellation.

Hwaaaak–!

In that moment, the qi flooding out from Mok Riwon became more imposing.

The fourth constellation he had finally completed expanded his mental image.

However, that wasn’t the end.

The Star God Technique was a martial arts of harmony, thus requiring him to properly connect the newly established constellation of the sword with the other existing constellations.

Similarly to when he completed the previous three stars, Mok Riwon drew a path between the third and fourth constellations, and he added one more principle to the revolving constellations.

Heaven, Earth, Man.

And Sword.

The third and fourth constellations defined their intersection as such.

“Phew...”

Mok Riwon exhaled and opened his eyes, the light in them much clearer than before.

Now, he was clearly at the Middle-Stage Peak Realm.

Il-woon had to hold back how surprised he was that the flow of Mok Riwon’s qi had changed as soon as he took the spirit pill.

‘…It seems that his insight was not lacking in the first place, but rather his cultivation of qi.’

Considering the swordsmanship he displayed, his realm in comparison seemed too low, and this seemed to be the reason.

These kinds of circumstances were occasionally seen.

Unlike more prestigious sects who could consume spiritual elixirs matching the level necessary for their insights if they so wished, martial artists from other smaller sects often struggled because they lacked the qi to fully assimilate their enlightenment.

Suddenly, Il-woon bitterly smiled.

‘I should congratulate him, but...’

It wasn’t as easy as he wanted.

He himself was also a martial artist.

When a peer of a similar realm grew and surpassed you, there was a sense of deprivation and envy.

They were feelings that were unbecoming of a disciple of Buddha, so Il-woon tried his utmost to suppress those thoughts, and then he opened his mouth.

“Congratulations, you have made progress it seems.”

“Thank you for setting up the protection! I keep being in your debt!”

At Mok Riwon’s smile while saying that, he made up his mind once again.

“…It was nothing. And thank you.”

“Did I do something?”

“Something like that.”

That he would never fall behind.

If his talent was lacking, he would put in enough effort to make up for it.

And he would stand shoulder-to-shoulder with these brilliant talents.

Fist Dragon Il-woon.

He was a man who in the face of a towering wall, thought of challenging it, not giving /genesisforsaken