The Terminally Ill Young Master of the Baek Clan

A single yellow bead was given to the Iron-Blood Sword Dragon, who had won the martial duel.

No one offered a clear explanation about that bead, but everyone more or less caught on.

It was something akin to merit points.

It served to distinguish the true gems from the common stones among the successors gathered here.

Naturally, even the successors who had been passive until now began to take action.

Thus, Mount Song, which had been quiet, regained its unexpected liveliness.

Even Noh Shik was no exception to this.

Noh Shik was currently facing off against someone.

His opponent was a swordsman, a blade wielder from the East River Sect, who bore the rather impressive nickname of Jiangnan’s Blade.

“Y-you damned beggar!”

Even though the Beggars’ Gang was indeed a sect of beggars, it still belonged to the Nine Sects One Gang.

Though the East River Sect was quite a powerful major sect in the Jiangnan region, his words were excessively harsh.

It must have been because Ak Jung-gwang, Jiangnan’s Blade, had lost his temper.

“Hahaha, a beggar begs for a living, not earns it! You ignorant fool!”

“I-Ignorant? Y-you… stinking bastard!”

“Your vocabulary is truly impoverished. Tsk tsk, I already knew you were thoughtless when you gobbled up even the raw eggs meant for someone else earlier.”

“It was only three! Just three raw eggs!”

The reason for their quarrel was something so trivial.

However, at least their fight was genuine, so people gradually gathered around.

Ak Jung-gwang drew his hefty blade and shouted, “It’s a duel, you ugly bastard!”

“…Fine. Let’s do it!”

Noh Shik, who had been smirking slyly, hardened his expression at being called an ugly bastard.

He wasn’t someone flashy like So Woon or Baek Ha-jun, but to be called that by Ak Jung-gwang felt deeply unfair.

As the atmosphere grew tense, someone called for a monk from the Shaolin Sect.

“Hold on! I am Beop Il. Lay practitioners, do not draw real swords without Shaolin’s supervision.”

Beop Il naturally led Noh Shik and Ak Jung-gwang to the dueling arena.

It followed the exact same pattern as when Baek Ha-jun had dueled Ok Yeong-cheol a few days ago.

Since the appearance of the yellow bead, the successors had engaged in numerous duels.

Among them, some received beads despite losing, while others didn’t get any even after winning.

“In duels, killing is forbidden. I assume you’re aware of the other rules. Ready…!”

Ak Jung-gwang gripped his blade tightly, while Noh Shik wielded a staff made of black bamboo reinforced with iron, the Black Bamboo Staff.

“Begin!”

The confrontation was fierce.

A silence so deep settled that one could hear a pin drop.

“Noh Shik, I’ll cut off your arm so you can’t beg anymore.”

“Snort.”

Noh Shik performed a crude act of blowing his nose by pinching one nostril shut.

This blatant display of animosity hinted at how brutal the duel might become.

But in that moment, while blowing his nose, Noh Shik’s lips moved in a way that was invisible to the spectators.

-You’re not really planning to cut me, right? Let’s keep it reasonable.

It was voice transmission.

Noh Shik had always been a cunning individual, and Jiangnan’s Blade Ak Jung-gwang, despite his appearance, was also a man of calculation.

-Let’s make it flashy, real flashy. Remember how both the Zhongnan Sect and the Qingcheng Sect kids got beads after their duel? That’s the way to go.

Ak Jung-gwang stretched his neck from side to side as if warming up, then naturally gave a small nod.

From provoking each other to engaging in the duel, everything had been prearranged.

Ding-ding-ding!

At that moment, a sound of plucked guqin strings rang out among the spectators.

Noh Shik glanced back slightly and saw a female master from the Sword Pavillion playing the guqin amid the crowd.

Was she providing background music to accompany the duel?

Noh Shik smirked.

“You’re someone who appreciates a bit of flair.”

“You won’t have the luxury to act smug for much longer, beggar!”

Ak Jung-gwang continued to rage.

With Noh Shik’s sly grin as the signal, the duel began.

Despite his large frame, the Jiangnan’s Blade moved with surprising agility.

With a loud bang, he stepped forward with force, leaping into the air without losing momentum, aiming to slice Noh Shik in half.

‘This guy…’

Noh Shik’s expression twisted.

The force behind Ak Jung-gwang’s strike seemed enough to split Noh Shik in two.

Left with no choice, Noh Shik pushed his movement technique to its peak.

His body staggered and swayed as though unsteady, but his foot shot forward with precision.

Ak Jung-gwang’s blade came crashing down where Noh Shik’s head had been moments earlier.

Whoosh!

But Noh Shik had already evaded with movements resembling a drunken stupor.

“Drunken Eight Immortal Steps!”

“Impressive.”

The spectators marveled in admiration.

The technique Noh Shik displayed was the movement technique of the Beggars’ Gang.

It was called the Drunken Eight Immortal Steps, as it resembled the movements of an immortal drunk on wine.

“Ak Jung-gwang, show some mercy in your strikes!”

Beop Il warned, but Ak Jung-gwang merely feigned an expression of innocence, as if it had been a mistake.

This time, it was Noh Shik’s turn to attack.

He staggered like a drunken man before suddenly extending his hand.

It was a natural and fluid move, as if his arm were stretching.

The Black Bamboo Staff in his hand grazed the tip of Ak Jung-gwang’s nose.

Though Ak Jung-gwang jerked his head back in alarm—

Thwack!

It seemed he hadn’t completely avoided it.

Ak Jung-gwang froze for a moment.

Drip—

Twin streams of blood began trickling from his nose.

It was clear that his nose had been thoroughly broken.

“Haha, my apologies,” Noh Shik offered an awkward apology, looking slightly embarrassed.

Of course, there’s no need to apologize during a duel.

“You… You scoundrel!”

Instead, the apology seemed to have fueled Ak Jung-gwang’s rage.

Noh Shik, looking aggrieved, bent his waist sharply.

It was a posture as if he were lying flat on the ground. Ak Jung-gwang’s blade grazed just above him.

“Die!”

Ak Jung-gwang then slammed his blade downward, as if he had been waiting for this moment.

If it landed, Noh Shik would suffer a severe injury to his shoulder.

At this critical moment, Noh Shik rolled to the side.

“Lazy Donkey Roll…!”

A technique likened to a lazy donkey rolling on the ground, something no cultured martial artist would ever perform.

But the beauty of being a beggar was the lack of any need for refinement.

As he rolled on the ground, Noh Shik simultaneously pressed the end of his staff against Ak Jung-gwang’s foot.

The springy black bamboo staff bent deeply and then snapped back with a “twang!”

Smack!

The elastic strike landed squarely on Ak Jung-gwang’s chin.

His head snapped upward, and his eyes rolled back, showing only the whites.

Then, as Noh Shik got to his feet, he drove his head into Ak Jung-gwang’s stomach.

This time, it wasn’t light either.

Thud, thud. Ak Jung-gwang’s entire body was struck repeatedly by Noh Shik’s black bamboo staff.

Dududududu!

It was truly a flurry of strikes fitting the term “beating.”

“That’s the Tagu Staff Technique!”

Even excluding the advanced Three Successor Forms taught only to senior disciples, the Tagu Staff Technique was a formidable staff technique.

It was excellent in its ability to batter someone as if they were a punching bag.

“Phew.”

Noh Shik withdrew his Black Bamboo Staff with a satisfied expression.

Until that moment, Ak Jung-gwang somehow managed to remain standing, but then saliva dribbled from his mouth, and he collapsed.

Thud!

Noh Shik scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“I ended up winning.”

The original agreement had undoubtedly been to end in a draw.

But Ak Jung-gwang had intended to ignore that agreement, and Noh Shik had guessed as much.

“The winner is Noh Shik!”

What did it matter who realized the betrayal first?

Even in the orthodox martial world, it was a dog-eat-dog hell where everyone stepped on others to climb higher.

As someone from the very bottom, Noh Shik understood that well.

Immersed in his thoughts, Noh Shik eagerly awaited the reward that was surely coming…

“Well then, thank you for your effort.”

Beop Il did not hand him the bead.

“W-What! You’re not giving me the bead?”

“There is no rule stating that winning a duel guarantees a Yellow Jade Bead.”

“What do you mean…?”

He tried pleading further, but Beop Il turned away coldly.

Noh Shik sank to the ground in dismay.

Ding-ding-ding.

The lady who had been playing a lively tune earlier switched to a sorrowful melody.

The melancholic tune only deepened Noh Shik’s gloom.

“Heh-heh.”

Hearing a mocking laugh, Noh Shik looked up.

Standing in front of him was Hwa So-so, her hands on her hips, wearing a mocking smile.

“What?”

“You’re not getting recognized because of your cheap tricks.”

“…”

“If I noticed it, of course, so did Beop Il.”

“…Damn it. I thought I had it perfect.”

Hwa So-so toyed with a yellow bead, spinning it atop her long fingers as if showing off.

She had recently showcased an outstanding duel and earned the bead.

“Perfect? Not at all. And why would you go through all this trouble when you could easily beat someone like the Jiangnan’s Blade?”

Ding-ding.

“It’s because no one’s willing to duel seriously anymore. After about ten days, people started holding back.”

There was a reason behind Noh Shik’s schemes.

Once it became known that one could earn yellow beads through duels, the successors freely demonstrated their skills.

But as duels and sparring matches repeated, a hierarchy began forming among the successors.

As some people accumulated multiple beads, duels gradually became rarer.

In fact, it wasn’t even clear whether the beads’ purpose was purely for scoring or something else.

Hwa So-so generously offered a suggestion, “Well then, how about dueling me?”

“A duel with real swords? I must decline. Your sword is far too sharp, Young Lady Hwa.”

Ding.

“Then we could spar with wooden swords. People have earned beads from wooden sword sparring too.”

“But their ribs ended up broken.”

“That’s true.”

Ding-ding! Ding…

“Leave it. Why would a beggar need a Small Recovery Pill? I don’t even want it that badly.”

“There you go again with such pathetic talk…”

Ding…

“Oh, for crying out loud!”

Hwa So-so finally couldn’t hold back anymore.

The somber tune from the guqin was beyond irritating.

“What are you doing? Do you think Noh Shik is funny or something?”

“No, Young Lady Hwa, I’m fine, but why—”

“Stay quiet for a moment. She’s been playing this mournful tune non-stop, like she’s mocking someone.”

Hwa So-so’s sudden outburst left Noh Shik even more flustered.

“Oh my. I was only trying to help.”

The woman playing the guqin smiled softly as she responded.

She had an attractive appearance, with single-lidded eyes.

Perhaps because she came from Southern Sea Potalaka, her attire and the long hair pinned up with an ornamental hairpin were unique.

“Help? How?”

“At the Sword Pavillion, people always appreciated it when I played tunes fitting the situation.”

“Does the Sword Pavillion only have weird people?”

“Oh my…”

The woman’s identity was revealed to be Na Hee-yeon, the Seven-String Sword Edge.

She was a successor from the Sword Pavillion, having earned as many as four beads.

“What exactly were you trying to help with?”

“I thought Young Lady Hwa might have romantic feelings for Young Master Noh Shik… so I was trying to create an atmosphere.”

“I challenge you to a duel.”

Hwa So-so placed her hand on her sword and glared at Na Hee-yeon.

Her eyes darkened, and a blade-like aura radiated from her.

The sharp energy she exuded caused the air in the room to become so heavy that it was hard to breathe.

“Oh my…”

“You’ve crossed the line.”

Yet Na Hee-yeon, the direct target of that overwhelming aura, remained completely unfazed.

“Very well.”

As she manipulated her zither, a thin, long sword smoothly emerged from it.

“Anytime!”

Thus, another duel began.

Plum Blossom Radiance Hwa So-so was younger sister of the famed Divine Sword of Mount Hua Hwa Mu-cheon.

And Na Hee-yeon was the Seven-String Sword Edge, a disciple of the Sword Pavillion Master, and one of the Ten Grandmasters.

The duel between the two female swordswomen drew the attention of many successors.

Almost all of the successors flocked to witness the duel.

Among them were Blade Maiden Peng Mu-ah and Iron-Blood Sword Dragon Baek Ha-jun.

However, they stood a bit apart, observing from a distance.

Peng Mu-ah carefully watched the duel before turning her head as if losing interest.

“The Seven-String Sword Edge has won.”

Though the duel’s outcome hadn’t yet been decided, she spoke with certainty.

Ha-jun nodded in agreement.

“Indeed.”

Those with deeper understanding often saw more.

They had already grasped the duel’s outcome intuitively.

Peng Mu-ah asked casually, “How many?”

“Four.”

“I have three.”

“I see.”

Peng Mu-ah expressed slight disappointment.

She too had shown remarkable achievements.

“Now, no one wants to duel, so it’s impossible to gather beads.”

Since collecting beads seemed important, she diligently participated in duels to gather them.

However, despite her superior results compared to others, Peng Mu-ah’s expression wasn’t pleased.

“Why isn’t Baek Yi-gang showing up?!”

She had expected to meet Yi-gang upon arriving at Shaolin.

Given his critical condition, how could she not visit him as a friend?

Yet, Yi-gang was nowhere to be seen.

She even tried visiting him in person, but the Shaolin monks firmly refused.

“Doesn’t it bother you too?”

“…”

“Why aren’t you answering?”

Ha-jun was staring blankly in one direction.

At first, she thought he was watching another duel, but his gaze was fixed on something much farther away.

Peng Mu-ah frowned and also looked in that direction.

“Oh…”

At first, she didn’t recognize him.

He wasn’t wearing his usual flashy attire but rather a shabby gray robe.

His previously well-maintained hair was now dry and rough.

Above all, his posture while walking was completely different from before.

“That…”

It was Yi-gang, who once walked with confidence and elegance, like a nobleman.

But now, with his arms dangling limply, he looked neither like a nobleman nor a martial artist.

“…Is that Yi-gang?”

Even though she knew, Peng Mu-ah couldn’t help but ask.

And instead of answering, Ha-jun leapt toward Yi-gang.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!