Chapter 45
The Hero Tournament (1)
Finally, the day had come!
In the blazing heat, thousands of participants crossed the threshold of the gate where the Murim Alliance’s signboard hung.
“Form a line!”
“Anyone causing disorder will be disqualified!”
The martial guards of the Alliance worked tirelessly to maintain order and guide the participants.
The Hero Tournament was divided into three stages: the first preliminary, the second preliminary, and the finals.
The first round was for outsiders who had gathered from all over, and its format was as follows:
“Cut this Trial Stone and leave a mark at least an inch deep.”
It was no easy task to carve even a shallow mark into the rock, which was as hard as steel. Without excellent martial arts skill and a solid foundation of inner energy, failure was inevitable.
“Guh!”
“Contestant 138, disqualified!”
Many participants tasted the bitterness of defeat and stepped aside.
However, the disqualified weren’t immediately sent home.
“Will you offer your strength in the name of justice and fight for the orthodox sects of the martial world?”
Recruiters from the Murim Alliance eagerly approached the failed participants, trying to enlist them.
Though they weren’t even second-rate martial artists, they could still be useful in numbers when facing the low-level fighters of the unorthodox sects.
Meanwhile, bursts of cheers occasionally erupted in the arena.
“Whoaah!”
“How can that even be possible…!”
Countless fine lines were engraved upon the solid trial stone.
The one who achieved it was a young swordsman, one eye covered by his hair.
Starting with this unknown contestant, more and more participants began to pass the test.
And among them—
Crash!
A massive trial stone shattered to pieces and collapsed to the ground.
In front of it stood a small monk who looked like a child.
“Amitabha.”
Chanting the Buddha’s name with hands clasped together, the monk smiled serenely.
He was none other than Monk Hyeyeon (慧蓮).
Elsewhere, another round of astonished gasps erupted.
An arrow shot by a young archer, who had tied a blue ribbon around his head, had cleanly pierced through the stone.
“Pass!”
The appearance of such impressive martial artists only heated up the atmosphere even more.
By the end of the first preliminary, which had begun at dawn, a total of 89 contestants had passed.
Including those representing the Murim Alliance, 203 participants would advance to the second preliminary.
The next day—
The contestants boarded carriages prepared by the Murim Alliance and left the city of Wuhon, arriving at the site of the second round.
It was a rugged mountain range, with thick forests stretching out before it.
“The rules for this round are as follows,” announced the overseer.
The contestants were to pass through the checkpoints ahead and reach the summit of the distant mountain. The first sixteen to arrive would advance to the finals.
Upon hearing this, Namgung Hyuk thought to himself,
‘A race to the top… a rather common format.’
What surprised him more, however, was that even as a member of the Alliance, he hadn’t known such a place had been prepared.
That meant none of the contestants had any idea what kind of obstacles awaited them.
At that moment, Mo Il-pung spotted him and approached.
“Hey there.”
“Captain Mo.”
“Now that we’re both captains, just call me comfortably.”
With a hearty laugh, Mo Il-pung patted Namgung Hyuk’s back.
Hyuk decided to go along with it.
“Brother Mo, are you well prepared?”
“What’s there to prepare? I just trust in these fists of mine.”
He raised his hands, covered in ornate gauntlets, and grinned.
“This time, I’ll pay you back properly for last time’s loss. So make sure you reach the finals.”
“Of course.”
“That’s the spirit. Remember, I’m not the only one who’ll be disappointed if you lose.”
From the sound of it, Mo Il-pung had probably placed a bet on Hyuk’s victory.
After a brief exchange, Mo Il-pung left.
Namgung Hyuk looked around the area.
‘There he is.’
Among the two hundred or so contestants, it wasn’t hard to spot the bald monk.
Hyuk’s eyes gleamed as he studied Monk Hyeyeon, who was much smaller in stature than he’d imagined.
‘Incredible. He’s concealing it well, but I can sense an immense aura of energy. To train such a small body to that level…’
It was even more impressive than what he’d seen from Grandmaster Gongjin or the Red-Faced Beggar.
Hyuk was so focused on Hyeyeon that he didn’t even look at the others.
“Contestants, step forward as your numbers are called.”
The second preliminary was about to begin.
One by one, the contestants entered the forest—the first obstacle.
“Number 130!”
Looking down at the badge on his chest, Namgung Hyuk stepped forward.
The first trial was a name-tag hunt.
‘Within the set time limit, you must collect three name-tags and reach the entrance to the secret cave at the base of the mountain.’
Right now, Hyuk had only his own tag—meaning he had to take two more from others.
However, injuring or using underhanded tricks against others would result in disqualification.
He moved swiftly into the forest.
‘Those who entered first have already hidden their presence.’
Naturally, early entrants would hide in ambush, waiting to strike at latecomers.
‘So that’s why the stronger participants were given higher numbers.’
He thought of the Four Demon Envoys’ sub-leaders and Monk Hyeyeon, who were yet to enter.
It would be best to secure his tags before they appeared.
Szzzt!
Lightning energy surged around Hyuk’s feet and scattered outward.
‘Oh? So many hiding nearby.’
He detected eight distinct presences within a ten-jang radius.
Although he could pinpoint their exact locations, Hyuk pretended not to notice and continued walking casually.
Then—
“Got you!”
A participant lunged from behind in ambush.
But his blade sliced nothing but air.
“Too sloppy.”
Even without knowing his location in advance, Hyuk could’ve easily blocked such a crude attack.
Zap!
With two fingers, he precisely struck the opponent’s acupuncture points, immobilizing him in an instant.
“One down.”
Far too easy.
He glanced at the fallen fighter.
It might seem like the opponent was weak, but that wasn’t true—only those at least of first-rate skill could pass the first round.
“Well then, let’s go find the next one.”
Hyuk strolled through the forest with leisurely confidence.
At the base of a cliff was a wide, open cave.
Its entrance had been expanded, and the words “Bulhwegul (Cave of No Return)” were carved above it—likely through inner energy.
This was the second checkpoint.
“Whew… finally made it.”
Emerging from between the trees, Hyuk muttered to himself.
Though he’d secured his tags early, the array formations throughout the forest had disoriented him, delaying his arrival.
His poor sense of direction hadn’t helped either.
‘I could’ve just blasted through the formations with thunderforce, but…’
Doing so would’ve drained too much energy for the next stage.
So he’d chosen patience instead.
“You’re late!”
Mo Il-pung greeted him cheerfully.
In contrast, Yang Mi-ryeong ignored him completely—keeping her word that during the tournament, they were rivals only.
Meanwhile, Baek Ja-un, dressed in plain white instead of his usual White Tiger Squad uniform, was staring daggers at him.
Sensing the gaze, Hyuk shot a sharp look back.
‘Good. The more competition, the better.’
He then counted the number of people gathered near the cave.
Less than an hour remained, and only about forty contestants had arrived.
‘Even if the maximum number of qualifiers is seventy, this feels too few…’
Just as he wondered about it, another figure emerged from the forest.
It was the young swordsman who covered one eye with his hair—his clothes spotless despite the difficult terrain.
Scratching the back of his head, he gave an awkward smile.
“Am I the last one here?”
His casual demeanor hardly matched that of a skilled martial artist.
But then—
“Show your collected name-tags,” said the overseer.
“Ah, yes.”
The young swordsman nodded and reached into his robe.
Rustle.
To everyone’s astonishment, he pulled out nearly twenty tags.
“What… is all this?”
“Haha, I don’t know. I just happened to collect them on the way.”
He laughed it off as if it were nothing, but the onlookers were shocked.
‘He fought that many people alone?’
‘And yet he looks completely unharmed!’
Namgung Hyuk watched the man closely.
‘The Red-Faced Beggar never mentioned anyone like this. To think such a strong, unexpected contender was hiding here…’
He approached the swordsman.
“Congratulations on passing the first stage.”
“Haha, whoever you are, thank you.”
“I’m Namgung Hyuk. May I have your name as well?”
“I’m Ju Shin-woon. Just a wandering swordsman, no fancy title.”
He looked only a few years older than Hyuk, but something about him hinted at noble origins.
‘He must have his reasons for hiding his identity.’
Hyuk didn’t pry further. In the finals, they’d simply face each other as opponents.
He clasped his fist in greeting.
“Let’s both make it through this next stage and meet again in the finals.”
“Agreed.”
After their brief exchange, the overseer began explaining the next challenge.
They were to pass through the Cave of No Return and exit on the mountainside.
Then came a chilling announcement:
“This cave is filled with mechanical traps and formations. Many have been maimed or killed in its tests before. Anyone wishing to forfeit, raise your hand now.”
How dangerous must it be for them to issue such a warning?
But none of the remaining contestants backed down.
“Very well. We’ll begin with the last in line—each entering at intervals.”
Ju Shin-woon stepped forward first.
“Haha, I suppose I’m up first. See you all on the other side.”
He bowed lightly and entered the cave.
Next was Namgung Hyuk.
‘A cave full of danger, huh?’
For some reason, he found himself smiling.
And so, Namgung Hyuk was the second to step into the Cave of No Return.
