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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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Ugh, I’m exhausted.
I sighed, sitting down in a corner of the waiting room to catch my breath.
“I need some elixirs…”
My aura was almost completely depleted just from using Aura Armor once. As expected, the mana consumption was atrocious without armor.
It was an Art designed to be used while wearing at least padded armor, or a gambeson, so it was unavoidable.
Besides, using it bare-bodied made it no different from the common protective chi techniques seen in wuxia stories.
“…Where’s Hye-ryeong?”
I thought she’d appear as soon as I arrived in the waiting room.
I sighed and stood up. I wanted to watch the next match, but in my current state, meditation took priority. My aura was depleted, and I was exhausted.
Even if training was important, rest was equally crucial.
I left the waiting room.
The path to the spectator stands was deserted. The matches were still ongoing.
I sighed and went to look for Hye-ryeong, but she wasn’t there. Mokgyeong, who had his own match coming up, was naturally absent as well.
I glanced at Mokgyeong’s back as he walked towards the arena, then turned away.
…Should I head back to the Haenam Sword Sect’s lodging?
I made my way back.
Fortunately, Hye-ryeong was there.
“Mister?”
“Where did you go?”
“Elder Baek called for me…how did your match go?”
“I won, of course.”
“As expected of Mister!”
Why were you so excited? Your…enthusiasm was a bit distracting.
Did it not hurt to…move like that?
“But you’re back already?”
“Yeah.”
“I used a bit too much aura, or rather, internal energy.”
“That’s understandable, after such an intense fight! Are you going to the training room?”
“Yes.”
I nodded and addressed Hye-ryeong, who was looking at me with concern.
“So, I don’t think I can go out to eat with you tonight.”
“That’s alright…I’ll ask the cook to pack you some food!”
As expected, Hye-ryeong was the best. I met her gaze as she cheerfully offered to pack me a meal. She beamed and flapped her arms.
Was she a human or a penguin?
I ruffled her hair affectionately.
“Mister, you’re messing up my hair!”
So soft. I removed my hand and turned away.
It was time for me to head to the training room.
“Get some rest!”
“See you later.”
I opened the door and reached for the training room doorknob.
And then, I remembered something important.
I was covered in sweat and grime.
I should wash up first.
Sitting cross-legged in the training room, I closed my eyes and began to meditate. Aura flowed into my mana core, spreading throughout my body through my muscles and mana roads.
The meditation technique, modified for use on the battlefield, was highly effective at quickly restoring aura. On the battlefield, where any situation could arise, rapid aura recovery was crucial.
The downside was that it made increasing one’s overall aura capacity much more difficult, but…Western meditation techniques were generally similar in efficiency, so this method was preferable.
Roman gladiatorial techniques involved meditating while exercising, while the Greeks meditated while contemplating some incomprehensible formulas…
Vesuvio…don’t even get me started. That place was a den of madmen.
Even the Demonic Cult would flee in terror if they saw those people.
…Come to think of it, none of those were proper meditation techniques, were they?
Was I being too narrow-minded?
In any case, they all felt like “Is this even meditation?” which was a strange feeling.
Lost in such thoughts, the fight against Paeng Jeok-san surfaced in my mind.
Even during my days rampaging through the West, I always reviewed my previous battles during meditation, so it was a familiar process.
…The fight against Paeng Jeok-san.
Yes.
More than his greatsword or the Five Tiger Severing Blade technique, his footwork was impressive.
To move so nimbly while wielding such a heavy weapon was a significant advantage. This fight had clearly demonstrated that Central Plains footwork techniques were specialized for combat.
While there were stepping techniques in the West, they weren’t quite the same as footwork techniques, and they didn’t produce the same unique effects as those in the Central Plains. Learning a footwork technique like that would be crucial for me.
The problem was integrating it with the Arts I had already learned.
…Could I do it with the Shadowless Divine Thief’s footwork?
A thief’s footwork and a knight’s footwork.
Weren’t they too different?
While I had managed to incorporate some of the footwork techniques, things changed when it came to proper footwork and Qinggong techniques.
The Shadowless Divine Thief’s Qinggong was specialized for escape and infiltration. Since it wasn’t designed for combat, it wasn’t ideal for my purposes.
Even if I wanted to modify it, I only had limited knowledge, and I couldn’t easily alter Central Plains martial arts.
To properly modify it, I needed to gather more Qinggong techniques, compare them, and piece together the formulas.
That meant I couldn’t use it in this tournament.
So, Qinggong would have to wait until after the tournament.
Next…sword techniques?
The only sword techniques I had seen were those used by the Mamluks, but they had a strange mix of seemingly impractical yet effective movements.
The way they used their aura seemed wasteful, but their abundance of aura made it practical.
Whether it was an enhancement secret technique or a martial art, the aura consumption was incredibly high. They had enough aura to spare even after using such techniques, which was rare in the West.
If I had learned that sword technique, I would probably be lucky to last five minutes, let alone an hour.
If I hadn’t been significantly stronger, that would have been a difficult fight.
…I wanted to consume elixirs like they were meals and use aura freely too.
Feeling a twinge of envy and regret, I finished my meditation.
My mana core was almost full.
“…When will Hye-ryeong be back?”
I was starving.
I opened the door and looked out the window. The sun had almost completely set, and the stars were beginning to appear.
It was almost the end of dinner time.
Should I polish my sword while I wait?
I sat on the bed and began to clean my sword. After a major fight, meticulous maintenance was essential.
How much time had passed?
Just as I finished polishing my sword, I heard a knock on the door.
“Mister! It’s me!”
“Come in.”
“Hehe.”
“You brought a whole bundle.”
“The cook said you worked hard in your match, so he packed a lot of easy-to-eat food!”
I took the bundle from Hye-ryeong and unwrapped it on the table. Inside were dumplings and stir-fried vegetables. A simple, easy-to-eat meal.
I picked up the included chopsticks and popped a dumpling into my mouth.
As I bit into the dumpling skin, flavorful juices exploded in my mouth.
“This is the life.”
“Hehe, it’s good, right?”
Hye-ryeong giggled, pulling a small, long, cloth-wrapped object from her cleavage, then unwrapped it to reveal a pair of chopsticks.
…Why did she keep her chopsticks there?
“Let’s eat together!”
“Didn’t you already eat?”
“I wanted to eat with Mister, so I packed it up and came straight here!”
That wasn’t necessary.
“Alright. Let’s eat.”
We picked up our chopsticks and began to eat.
We talked about the matches as we ate. Suddenly, Hye-ryeong gasped as if she had remembered something important.
“Mister, I think one of the semifinalists will advance by default!”
“Huh? Why?”
“I heard people talking in the dining hall that both participants in Group 2 were severely injured and can’t compete.”
Both severely injured?
In a sparring match?
Wasn’t Group 2 the Taoist priest and the Shaolin monk?
They seemed like the least likely pair to end up in a draw.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! I heard it clearly!”
“Hmm…alright.”
That meant I might have one less fight.
Although another fight wouldn’t be a problem.
I digested this valuable information as I adjusted my training schedule leading up to the semifinals.
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The day of the semifinal draw.
I was the last to arrive at the arena.
There wasn’t any particular reason; the other two were simply already there.
I glanced at Mokgyeong and Namgung Hwi, then turned my attention to the referee. He cleared his throat as I approached and announced,
“Both participants in Group 2 have been severely injured, so one will advance by default!”
As Hye-ryeong had said, the Taoist and the monk had indeed both been eliminated.
“Since there are only three of you left, please take one of the slips of paper on the table.”
With only three participants, there was no need for a lottery draw. I picked up the middle slip and unfolded it.
Bye.
Should I be happy?
I glanced at Mokgyeong. He was looking at his slip with a determined expression.
Namgung Hwi handed his slip to the referee with a look of disappointment. It seemed he was anticipating a boring fight, just like his character in the original story.
Objectively, he had reason to be disappointed. At this point, Mokgyeong was the weakest of the semifinalists.
First-rate versus peak expert.
Bridging that gap was nearly impossible.
Common sense dictated that it would be a one-sided match.
But…
No.
May he rest in peace.
I silently offered my condolences to Namgung Hwi.
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