Reincarnated Sword Ghost-Chapter 18 : Special Test

Special Test
The saying that victory and passing had no direct relation was actually true.
As the words implied, at the end of each fierce duel, a winner and loser were chosen, but both were simply told to return home, regardless of the outcome.
"......"
The victorious martial artist glanced heatedly at the scholar-looking man for a moment, but soon turned and walked back the way he came.
There was no point in protesting.
Everyone tacitly understood that the man making decisions here was not the true authority.
Again, names were called, and matches repeated.
Jeong-un watched as martial artists around his own age swung swords at each other.
It was a duel between true martial artists, something he had never witnessed in his life.
'They all truly deserve to be called prodigies.'
Compared to the martial artists of the Yu household or Five Star Gate, the ones before him made the former seem almost unworthy of the title.
Every sword swing crackled with fierce internal energy, and it wouldn't be surprising if it turned into real combat instead of a test.
But that was all.
'It's not all that special, though.'
They imbued their blades forcefully with internal energy and executed movements trained countless times.
Though the martial arts were unfamiliar, it wasn't a spectacle that widened his eyes in amazement like when he first saw Cheong Jin.
He understood why eliminations were happening so relentlessly.
"Quite romantic, isn't it?"
A voice spoke suddenly from beside him, causing him to look over.
The speaker appeared to be a couple of years older than Jeong-un.
His pale face and sharp jaw made him look more like the son of a high-ranking government official than a martial artist at first glance—a strikingly handsome man.
"What do you find romantic?"
"Just look around."
He gazed about as if admiring nice scenery, then grinned and continued.
"In this place filled with flowers and wood, those with dreams of storming the world test their skills against each other without malice. Surely whoever planned this test understands what romance truly is."
"It certainly isn't a common sight."
The man laughed softly at his reply.
"I'm Murong Cheon, trained in swordsmanship at the Murong family of Zhejiang."
"I am Yu Jeong-un of the Yu household in Hanzhong."
"The Yu household, you say..."
Murong Cheon looked slightly surprised, apparently expecting to recognize the name.
"It's not a particularly famous place."
"I see."
His face was filled with curiosity but he refrained from asking further, as if understanding there was a story behind it.
'I don't know much about the Murong family either, really.'
Jeong-un realized he himself barely knew anything about Murong Cheon's background, having only heard the name.
There was no need to get caught up in each other's lineages; they would discover each other's abilities soon enough when their swords clashed.
"Young master Yu, aren't you at all nervous?"
"...?"
Wondering at the question, Jeong-un glanced over to see Murong Cheon shrug.
"It's just that you alone seem unusually calm. No matter how well you control your heart, your fingertips are bound to tremble a little."
"Yet you yourself seem more than composed, elder brother."
At Jeong-un's words, Murong Cheon let out a hearty laugh.
"I'm just pretending to be fine. Inside, I feel like I'm burning up. I hope it's over with quickly."
"I'd rather have as many rounds as possible."
"Hmm?"
Seeing the confusion on his face, Jeong-un explained.
"Isn't this a rare chance to test our skills against martial artists we'd never otherwise meet? I'd feel regret if I only got to do this a couple of times."
"......"
As Murong Cheon looked at him, mouth slightly agape—
"Hanzhong's Yu Jeong-un, and Pyo Jin-cheon of Changju in Northern Zhili."
At last, Jeong-un's name was called.
***
Pyo Jin-cheon looked at the young man standing before him.
'Arrogant bastard.'
Pyo Jin-cheon ground his teeth slightly.
He had lost sleep for days thinking about him.
This nameless nobody who dared apply to the Special Test, answered back to him with every word, and above all, humiliated him before Tang Yerin, making him look like a man without ambition.
'Just my luck.'
When their names were called together, he had nearly let out a cheer.
He'd been anxious the whole time, but the moment he saw his opponent was Jeong-un, he felt at ease, thinking even his ancestors must be blessing him.
"We meet again."
Pyo Jin-cheon spoke stiffly, addressing him now as an equal.
"I hope you've been well."
"......"
It was that very composure.
Speaking with an impassive gaze as if nothing mattered to him.
It wasn't a significant remark, but it had annoyed him greatly before.
'Just some backwater rube, and yet...'
After that day, Pyo Jin-cheon double-checked if Yu Jeong-un was actually one of the rising stars of Hanzhong.
As expected, no such name had ever been known.
Certainly a nobody, and nearly as young as himself—there was no way he was some expert in disguise.
'I don't know how he passed the first round.'
Pyo Jin-cheon too chalked up Jeong-un's passage to pure luck.
After all, if he'd failed then, they wouldn't have met in a duel.
Besides, the first test had been almost laughably simple.
Even he himself didn't know what the passing standards were.
For instance, the examiner had cut him off in the middle of his statement and just sent him through.
He must have so thoroughly exceeded the mark that they'd passed him without even listening to the end.
"Begin."
The examiner watching them gave the signal.
Tadak─!
Immediately, Pyo Jin-cheon pushed off the ground using lightness skill and launched forward.
His hand was already gripping his sword guard.
His most confident technique: the Seven Star Sword Technique(七星劍法)'s first move, Explosive Strike.
A rapid sword move that cut down the opponent's opening the instant the sword was drawn.
It was the signature move that had propelled his school, the Seven Star Gate, into the ranks of the greatest sects and made Pyo Jin-cheon a prominent rising star in his region.
He'd spent countless hours perfecting this technique—perhaps, he thought, just for moments like this.
Soon, the distance was down to just a few steps.
His opponent hadn't even properly gripped his sword yet.
As expected.
With a smirk, Pyo Jin-cheon tightened his grip and drew his blade.
Then, he spotted Jeong-un's foot moving slightly.
'Trying to dodge now, are you...!'
Pyo Jin-cheon's eyes widened.
Suddenly, Jeong-un was right in front of him, having closed the distance in a surge.
'This lunatic!'
Yet his opponent still hadn't drawn his sword.
He was startled, but he only needed to cut him down anyway.
Then, Pyo Jin-cheon noticed Jeong-un's left hand.
'Not unable to draw, but...?'
His left hand was clenched into a fist.
He'd never intended to draw the sword in the first place.
'Cocky bastard!'
Pyo Jin-cheon thrust his sword hand forward.
The distance was tight, but enough to land his slash—it was his specialty, after all.
'I'll cut you down!'
Suddenly, Pyo Jin-cheon felt something was off.
His hand couldn't move forward any further.
Pyo Jin-cheon's gaze darted to his right hand gripping the sword guard.
"......!"
Somehow, his opponent's right hand had caught his wrist.
It halted his sword, which had been half drawn from the sheath.
'When did he...!'
Grinding his teeth, Pyo Jin-cheon channeled internal energy into his right hand, ready to force his way through.
"......!"
But it was like having a boulder pressing against him—he couldn't budge it at all, despite being proud of his strength for his age.
In fact, the sword, which had been halfway drawn, was now being pushed back into the sheath by Jeong-un, who was gripping Pyo Jin-cheon's wrist.
Srrrrng—
The sword slid right back in, despite Pyo Jin-cheon still holding on.
It was humiliation: to have one's draw suppressed by another.
"You...!"
This time, Pyo Jin-cheon raised his free left hand.
While he had mainly practiced swordsmanship, he wasn't ignorant of close combat.
With a hit at this range, he could break the opponent's jaw.
At that moment, his eyes met Jeong-un's.
'... Is he smiling?'
Those eyes seemed truly delighted.
Pyo Jin-cheon felt his blood boiling in reverse.
He tried to swing his left hand.
He wanted to break that face.
But his own body staggered first.
The power pushing him back through his sword arm finally toppled him, shaking him from the waist.
He saw Jeong-un's approaching fist aimed at his unguarded abdomen—there was no way to stop it.
Puhk─!
Pyo Jin-cheon's abdomen caved in and he was thrown backwards, rolling across the ground.
"......"
The arena went silent.
"Keuk, keuhk...!"
Soon, only the sound of Pyo Jin-cheon coughing on the ground echoed.
It had all happened in a single instant.
"What did I just see...?"
"The one who attacked first didn't even get his sword out?"
As whispers spread among the spectators, the examiner announced:
"Hanzhong's Yu Jeong-un."
"...?"
"Proceed to the next round."
He was the first to pass—the crowd erupted in astonishment.
"Does such close combat exist in Shaanxi?"
"He's not a disciple of Mount Hua or Zhongnan?"
Jeong-un approached the still-prone Pyo Jin-cheon.
Pyo Jin-cheon, having caught his breath, raised his head to meet Jeong-un's eyes shining like stars.
"I'm surprised. So you can even use internal energy to reinforce your footwork like that."
"...?"
"Though it seemed a bit unrefined in execution, I still learned a lot."
"...!"
Pyo Jin-cheon almost shouted in anger, but instead coughed raggedly while clutching his abdomen.
All he could do was glare fiercely at Jeong-un.
"Successful applicants, proceed to the next round."
"Yes."
Jeong-un bowed to the examiner who had approached unnoticed.
"Northern Zhili's Pyo Jin-cheon."
"......"
Called by name, Pyo Jin-cheon hung his head.
"Rise. You'll prepare for a rematch," said the examiner, looking down at him sternly.
"N-no failure?"
"No decision can be made yet."
"Pardon?"
"You didn't even draw your sword, so I saw nothing. Now, stand up."
Pyo Jin-cheon's face flushed red.
Jeong-un looked at him with eyes of envy.
***
Passing through the flower garden and following the path, Jeong-un found himself once again on a wide main road.
'We're going deeper in.'
He felt himself moving from the outskirts into the inner areas.
The buildings in the distance were growing taller, and the entrance gate was now totally out of sight.
Curiously, despite the vastness, there was no one else in sight—it felt a bit unnatural, perhaps because the Heavenly Martial Hall had deliberately cleared certain areas for the tournament.
He arrived before a giant, eight-story pavilion visible even from afar.
A few people, likely those who had already passed the second test, were there.
Once again, a scholar-looking examiner stood by the pavilion's entrance.
At that moment, Jeong-un stopped in his tracks.
'Now I see why this is called the cradle of prodigies.'
Jeong-un's eyes fixed on a man just exiting the pavilion, apparently having finished his trial.
Even at a glance, his energy was refined nearly to the level of the famous 'half-step return to foundation' technique.
His overwhelming aura unmistakably proclaimed him a master swordsman.
He descended the stone stairs with elegance, exchanged some words with the examiner,
"Congratulations on your admission."
and accepted a token before turning away.
Then, for a moment, his eyes met Jeong-un's.
"......"
For a brief moment, he regarded Jeong-un with a peculiar gaze before moving on.
Jeong-un watched his back until he vanished.
"That man's name is Yong Somaeng."
"...?"
Turning his head, Jeong-un saw Murong Cheon, who had approached unnoticed.
Nodding in understanding, Murong Cheon explained,
"He's the esteemed chief disciple of the famous Wudang."
"... So I'll be training alongside people like that from now on?"
At Jeong-un's words, Murong Cheon smiled knowingly.
"It's truly despairing, being of the same era as such martial artists..."
"My heart races with excitement."
"...?"
"I'm really glad I came here."
Murong Cheon blinked in surprise for a moment, then laughed as he met Jeong-un's smiling eyes.
"There's still one more trial left, you know."
"Now I have a real reason to pass."
"Then you must."
With a shared nod, Jeong-un turned and strode toward the pavilion.
-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
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