The second round resumed with even more intensity. With the final round looming, fights were swift and decisive. Yu-jun faced a stronger opponent this time, and knowing he couldn't win through sheer strength, he focused on outmaneuvering them instead.
Though both were experts in qi refinement, Yu-jun was only at the Verdant Bloom stage in martial cultivation—the third stage, granting external qi attacks, heightened senses, and accelerated healing. It was a coveted breakthrough for martial cultivators, but his opponent had already reached the Blazing Tempest stage. Even a single stage difference was overwhelming. At that level, a martial artist could perform qi manifestation outside the body. Meaning they could project energy from their body alone.
Well, even if I lose here, it's fine. Mother only made me enter in order to get some recognition. Already making it to the second round is a feat in itself. He thought.
The moment the fight began, his opponent lunged forward, a blade wreathed in flickering blue qi slashing toward him.
Yu-jun twisted his body at the last second, barely dodging as the force of the attack split the ground where he had stood. His only chance was speed—he couldn't overpower someone in the Blazing Tempest stage just yet.
He darted around his opponent, feinting left before pivoting right, his blade flashing toward an exposed opening. But before he could land a hit, a pulse of qi erupted from his opponent's body, forcing him back.
Qi manifestation. The bane of his existence at that moment. Without it, it would be hard for him to defeat his opponent.
Yu-jun barely had time to react before a wave of energy struck him square in the chest. Pain flared through his ribs as he staggered back, barely keeping his footing. His opponent didn't relent. Another attack came, a blade of condensed qi slicing through the air. Yu-jun blocked, but the force sent him skidding across the arena, his arms numb from the impact.
He gritted his teeth, trying to find an opening, but his opponent moved faster than before, pressing the advantage. A sudden burst of qi shot toward him. He dodged—too slow. The energy clipped his shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground.
Dazed, he forced himself up, knowing fully well that if he stayed down any longer, his chances of losing would only increase, and he couldn't afford to lose in such a miserable way. But his opponent was already above him, blade poised at his throat.
"It's over," the referee called.
Yu-jun exhaled sharply, frustration burning in his chest. He had done everything he could—but in the end, the gap was too wide. Normally in the first round, fighters were paired off with people similar in strength to them—giving them a fair chance, but when it came to the second round, all bets were off. It didn't matter who you could pair with. Your only focus was working using any means you had at your disposal.
Kang Choon-hee who was sitting in the VIP section thanks to her connections was fuming with rage and disappointment as she watched her son make his way out of the arena.
Her anger was unmistakable, and Yu-jun knew he could potentially incur her wrath. Just as he was about to think of an excuse to get her off his back, his eyes swept past the crowd and landed on Eun-woo who was looking down on him at the same time. His face remained unreadable, almost expressionless, but Yu-jun had been around Eun-woo long enough to know what this look meant. For Eun-woo, his eyes were a sure tell to what he was feeling. And having been on the opposite end of that look many times—it was how he looked at Seo-yoon whenever he did anything—he knew what this expression meant.
Inadequate. Not worth looking at any longer.
Yu-jun's jaw clenched at that moment as a burst of anger and frustration erupted within him. He suddenly wished Seo-yoon was around so he could have some vehicle to take his frustrations out on. His eyes accidentally flickered towards the person sitting next to Eun-woo as he no longer wanted to see that look directed toward him. His brows furrowed as he couldn't recognize who that person was, but they oddly looked familiar. Like he had seen them before.
Strange, he thought. But before he could think more of it, a piercing voice shattered his thoughts, and Yu-jun had the uncontrollable urge to flee.
"Kang Yu-jun! Just what was that horrible performance out there?!" His mother yelled.
The young master felt a sudden headache. "Are you trying to embarrass the Kang name out here? Do you know how hard it was to convince the people in charge of the tournament to let you in despite your low level? Just what are you trying to do?" She exclaimed.
Yu-jun rolled his eyes. We all know you didn't have to do much. It was all that old man's doing. He thought but kept to himself.
"Just who is going to want to invest in you now? You were practically useless out there! What has that man been teaching you all this for you to be this bad?" Her yelling persisted, and Yu-jun was starting to feel the stares of people around them.
"Ugh, can we talk about this later? The next event is about to start." He said through gritted teeth before walking off.
Kang Choon-hee opened and closed her mouth, left speechless. Do-yun took this opportunity to leave before her anger was directed at him. The madam watched as her two sons left, leaving her to stand there all alone. "Just what did I do in my past life to deserve such useless and ungrateful children?!"
~*~
Just as Kang Yu-jun had stated, it was time for the next event that would take place before the last round—The Exhibition Match. After the semifinals, the Heavenly Summit Tournament hosted an exhibition match featuring two renowned martial experts for one of the three big sects. Unlike the rest of the tournament that fights for victory, this one is more of a display of mastery meant to inspire younger cultivators to grow and continue their journey in martial arts.
Wooyun couldn't help but wonder who these two martial artists could be, and just as he was about to ask Eun-woo if he knew anything, the young man stood up from his seat.
"Where are you going? The match is about to start?" Wooyun asked.
"I'm well aware. I will be right back." He said.
Wooyun narrowed his eyes as he watched Eun-woo leave. There was something strange about the way he looked at him as he said that but he didn't think much of it. "Hurry back then." He yelled but Eun-woo didn't answer.
He made his way down the stairs—leaving the arena for a brief moment.
Near the back of the stage, there was a pavilion reserved for the next fighters. That is where he met Yang Kyung-min who was set to fight the next match after the exhibition was over. His eyes lit up upon seeing him. "Young master Heo! It's such a pleasure to see you!" He greeted. "I hear you will be fighting against Song Baerin."
Eun-woo nodded. "Congratulations on making it to the final round." He said simply.
"Thank you. I look forward to watching you fight." he said. As he walked off, another man approached Kyung-min, his eyes curiously watching Eun-woo leave.
"Who is that man? I don't think I recognize him." He said.
Kyung-min's smile disappeared and his face became unreadable. "He's the precious disciple of the second leader of the Sun Sect as well as the son of the Heo Clan patriarch." He explained.
The other man's eyes widened. "You mean he's Heo Eun-woo? The first person to ever reach master level at only nineteen years old?" He exclaimed. "I hear he's reaching grandmaster level!"
Hae-ruin's eyes darkened when he heard this. He had been gunning to become the youngest person to reach grandmaster status but Eun-woo had taken the spot from him. To think he was on the verge of a breakthrough this quickly.
"Let's not waste our time speaking on such matters, the match is about to begin."
And just as he said this, the first opponent—Song Baerin appeared, donned in his navy blue robes that were synonymous to the Sapphire Sword Sect. On the opposite side appeared Eun-woo who stood out even from far away. Wooyun recognized him immediately. He was a hard guy to miss after all. With a striking figure, standing at an imposing 6'2" with broad shoulders and a build honed through years of rigorous martial training.
His long, chestnut hair was tied half-up, with the loose strands cascading down his back. His eyes, light brown with a faint gold hue, were sharp and observant, holding an unreadable depth that makes it difficult to discern his thoughts.
His facial features, well-defined—straight, slightly arched brows, a chiseled jawline, and high cheekbones that enhanced his naturally refined appearance. When silent, his presence was cold and formidable, his gaze like a blade that can cut through pretense. There was an air of restraint in the way he carried himself, as though he kept the world at arm's length.
His posture was upright, his movements precise, exuding the confidence of a master martial artist. Wooyun watched with quiet amazement as the vibe around Eun-woo had changed. He was nothing like the strict master who liked to bully their disciple. He looked like a true seasoned martial artist as he stood on that stage.
His eyes then moved to his opponent. Another striking man though not as good looking as Eun-woo, but still easy on the eyes. Wooyun despite his novice status could tell how strong he was even with a single glance. He couldn't help being nervous for Eun-woo.
The fight began as soon as the horn rang yet the two fighters stood there without making a single move. Their eyes were locked into each other as if they were stuck in a stalemate.
An entire minute had gone by, neither moved a muscle. The crowd became restless yet the spectators on the other side of the coliseum remained silent—as if this wasn't out of the ordinary.
Just as they wondered when they would make a move, the first to strike was Song Baerin. He pulled out his weapon at the speed of light and flicked it towards Eun-woo. Suddenly, a gush of violent wind blew through the arena, nearly blowing those who weren't far from the action.
Eun-woo had a sharp eye on Song Baerin the entire time and was able to cut through the wind energy with his hand. It all happened so fast, that no one had the time to register an attack even occurred.
A soft chuckle escaped Song Baerin's lips as he stared at Eun-woo once the gust of wind had passed. "You are the same as ever. Sharp and intuitive. I'm glad those years spent teaching a lesser martial artist haven't dulled your senses." He said.
His words were loud and they were clear. Even if they hadn't been spoken loudly, those who practiced qi and were at the level where their senses were heightened would be able to hear him. That went for Wooyun who was at least fifty feet away from the stage, and Kang Yu-jun. His jaw clenched at those words and despite his anger and embarrassment, he couldn't utter a single word to retort. All he could think was that this young master would regret uttering those words about him one day.
"If it were that easy to dull my senses, then I would never make it as far as I am now." He simply said.
"Hm. Well then. Let's get this show over with. We should show the people here what true martial arts looks like."
As soon as he finished his sentence, a fan materialized in his hands. The real fight was about to begin as he summoned a razor-sharp wind that cut through the air like blades.