It wasn't that there were no spiritual herbs to be found for 80 silver taels. If the apothecary had anything on special, he would line up several wooden boxes.
"Now, this is no ordinary gromwell root. It's at least thirty years old, but because it's a bit ugly, it's been undervalued and ignored. In this world, as long as a spiritual herb is effective, what does its appearance matter..."
Even I, who knew little of medicinal herbs, could see it wasn't much different from the ones Do Gwang-il had rejected before. After listening to his noisy sales pitch, I shook my head and got up to leave.
"When do you expect to get any mid-grade or higher spiritual herbs?"
The apothecary licked his lips with a look of regret.
"Spiritual herbs aren't cultivated by men, so we can't make any promises. Even if we had one, it would be difficult at that price. You were truly lucky the other day."
Glancing at the long blade tucked into my back, the apothecary subtly changed the subject.
"If you're in a hurry, you might try entering the martial arts tournament that's being held tomorrow. There will probably be a spiritual herb among the prizes."
"A martial arts tournament? They have such things here?"
"Of course. Wherever there's a black market, there are many martial artists and many reasons to fight, so putting on a grand fighting competition is no trouble at all."
The place the apothecary told me about, where the martial arts tournament was being held, was a five-story tavern called the Silver Handle Pavilion. The spacious first floor, which should have been bustling with customers, had all its tables and chairs cleared away and was being converted into a sparring arena. Sword-wearing martial artists swarmed around the sparring arena.
Looking closely, I saw staff members taking registrations in various spots. I stood in line at a reasonable distance, and soon it was my turn.
"Is this where the martial arts tournament is being held?"
"That is correct. This tournament will be held tomorrow night."
"I heard there are prizes for the winner?"
"They're different each time. Tomorrow's prizes are the Sun Element Sword for the winner, and the Lake Water Lotus Herb for the runner-up."
I had never heard of either of them. I didn't know how great they were, but the apothecary had assured me that the quality of the tournament prizes was guaranteed. A martial arts tournament is a dangerous fighting ring where one could easily end up dead or crippled.
There was a good reason for such expensive prizes being offered. In the past, I wouldn't have even dreamed of joining in. If I hadn't learned to use inner energy, I would have ignored it now as well.
I had tasted the overwhelming power of inner energy firsthand in real combat. It was such an intense experience that I couldn't even imagine going back to how I was before, without it. Even without using it in a real fight, just training consumed a little bit of inner energy.
I only had five pills left to replenish my inner energy. Could I even last the winter with those? No matter how much I practiced the Heavenly Steel Saber Technique to achieve a higher realm, if I faced an opponent who used inner energy, my forms would helplessly lose their power and speed.
Even now, a chill ran down my spine when I thought about how terrifying it was when Pyo Hol-deuk first attacked me using inner energy. But even a man like Pyo Hol-deuk had less inner energy than I did, and his head ended up flying off.
If I couldn't get a proper spiritual herb and make more pills, I could end up in the same state someday. Besides, I had grown quite a bit stronger. I hadn't been pushed back even when fighting a master from the Black Night Gang, and I'd taken care of an inner energy master from the Heavenly Mountains like Pyo Hol-deuk.
Still, I didn't know what dangers might lie ahead. Should I participate, or not... If I could use my inner energy, it would be possible to escape from an opponent's blade unharmed, even in the worst-case scenario.
If I circulated a large amount of inner energy, my presence would change drastically. A fine thread of it, about the thickness of a silk strand, would put my body in peak condition, as if I had eaten a good meal and had a deep sleep.
It would make me just a little faster and a little stronger, so it was hard to notice. Just like how I hadn't noticed at all when Do Gwang-il first used his inner energy. In a desperate situation, during a fierce clash, it would surely be a great help.
But using it in front of a large crowd of onlookers was a very awkward and uncomfortable thing to do. What if I covered my face with a mask or a face covering? Wouldn't that be worth a try?
A mid-grade or higher spiritual herb was worth that much. There was no other way to get one. I'd just have to try it, and if things went south, I'd have to find a way out, whether by forfeiting or something else.
After a long internal conflict, I opened my mouth.
"I'll participate."
"The entry fee is one silver tael."
"Why is it so expensive? Other places don't even charge half a silver tael."
As if used to such reactions, the staff member smiled smoothly and explained the reason.
"As the price is high, so too is the quality of the prizes guaranteed. The Sun Element Sword is a treasured sword made of white lotus iron, and the Lake Water Lotus Herb is a spiritual herb from an elixir sought after not only by masters wishing to increase their inner energy but also by high-ranking officials."
In any case, I didn't have nearly enough money to buy a proper spiritual herb on the black market. I paid the entry fee, figuring I was just throwing away one silver tael. The staff member handed me a pure white wooden token.
"You can write your title or name here."
It wasn't right to reveal my name, and I didn't have a title yet. I wondered what to write, and then wrote down 'Blue Saber'. It wasn't what I wanted, but since I had become the successor to the Blue Mountain Sect's Saber Sect, it wouldn't be wrong to call myself the 'Saber Wielder of Blue Mountain'.
The staff member recorded the name in a ledger and returned the wooden token.
"Come back here before sunset tomorrow evening and show this participation token, and we will guide you to the waiting room. I wish you the best of luck, Great Hero."
As I was putting the token in my robe, someone clasped their fist to me.
"Young Hero, might I have a word with you?"
He was a tall, well-built middle-aged man. His eyes were clear, and his strong-featured face looked so magnanimous that he would likely be called a hero wherever he went.
"What is it?"
The middle-aged man glanced around and lowered his voice.
"Ahem, if you don't mind, could you write my name on this wooden token? My eyes have grown dim with age, so it's not easy, haha."
The wooden token the middle-aged man held out was covered in ink. It seemed he had tried to write his name, didn't like it, and covered it up with ink. A good number of martial artists were illiterate, unable to even write their own names.
Even those who could barely write their names never practiced their penmanship, so they were stuck with terrible handwriting that looked like a child's scribbles for their entire lives.
"What is your name?"
"Hwang Kang-ju."
Of all things, both his surname and given name were characters with many strokes. If you didn't write them with the correct stroke order, the character sizes would be uneven and they'd likely end up a smudged mess.
I flipped the participation token over, placed it against the wall, held the fine brush vertically, and wrote his name in neat script before returning it to him. The penmanship I had paid scholars to learn hadn't rusted; it came out quite well. Hwang Kang-ju, taking the participation token, also nodded with a satisfied expression.
"You have a fine hand. Thank you. How should I repay you for this..."
"It's fine. It was nothing."
Waving my hand dismissively, I went outside and returned to the inn.
"You're entering the martial arts tournament? When?"
"Tonight."
While having breakfast together at the inn, I explained to Tang Hye-seo what had happened last night.
"Are you confident? A martial arts tournament can be quite rough."
"I'll be fine."
"Hmm, I'll have to go and see."
"You're not going back to the Western Village?"
"I'll check out the black market for one more day and go tomorrow."
I nodded and moved my chopsticks, when something occurred to me.
"By any chance, do you have another one of those masks from yesterday?"
"Why?"
"I'd rather not have my face recognized."
"You're planning to wear it to the tournament?"
I nodded as I picked up a dumpling.
"I have to, don't I? If I end up winning, many people will recognize me."
There's no such thing as a safe gamble in this world. The martial arts tournament was no different. If I became the runner-up and got my hands on the prize, people could come after me right away.
There might be some idiot among those who bet on me and lost, looking to vent their frustration. To avoid getting entangled in troublesome matters, hiding both my name and face was the best course of action.
"You can just wear a face covering, can't you? The strongest person in a martial arts tournament is always the mysterious master in a face covering, so it would be a good way to intimidate others."
"I'm saying this because I don't have a face covering."
Tang Hye-seo looked at me with a puzzled expression.
"Why don't you have a face covering?"
For a moment, I was at a loss for words. Why didn't I have one... Was Tang Hye-seo, like Bok Ha-gyu, seeing me as the kind of guy who would put on a face covering and go on a robbing and killing spree at a moment's notice?
"Not every martial artist has a face covering."
"I have one, and so does Bi-hyeon."
"A face covering? What for?"
Tang Hye-seo replied nonchalantly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"You use it when it's awkward to reveal your identity. Just make one and put it on. Masks come off easily, so they're not great for fighting. They also obstruct your vision."
"You seem to have worn a face covering quite often."
"You have to wear it when you need to. It's better to hide my own face than to kill someone just for seeing it. It saves lives and avoids bloodshed."
It was a very Tang Clan-like yet strangely common-sense way of behaving. That day, I accompanied Tang Hye-seo with Bi-hyeon, visiting several black market merchants. I asked around whenever I could if it was possible to get a spiritual herb, but with 80 silver taels, it was out of the question.
If I wanted to bring back even a single spiritual herb root when I returned to the Western Village, my only option was to become the runner-up in the martial arts tournament. In the late afternoon, I returned to the inn and made a face covering out of the cloth I had bought at the cloth shop.
After dinner, we all headed to the Silver Handle Pavilion. The sunset was just beginning to paint the sky, but the tavern was already loud and bustling.
Kwwaaang!
"Thunder Saber wins!"
"That's right! I believed in you, Thunder Saber!"
"Jiangxi Flying Swordsman! You son of a bitch! You couldn't even take that?"
Before I even crossed the threshold, a staff member quickly came over to greet the guests.
"Has it started already?"
"This is the first tournament in half a year, so there are quite a few participants. We're holding the preliminary rounds right away as they arrive. Otherwise, we wouldn't finish even if we went on for several nights."
It wasn't just the martial artists of White Rooster County who were known for their sword skills that had been waiting for this day. All the local gamblers and spectators looking for entertainment had flocked here, and there wasn't an empty seat to be seen on the first floor.
Outside it was chilly enough to make one crave a drink, but inside, the tavern was hot with the excitement and passion radiating from the people.
"The entrance fee is 100 coins."
I showed my participation token and passed through without paying. Tang Hye-seo, wearing the middle-aged man's mask, and Bi-hyeon paid extra and were guided to a special seating area on the third floor. The tournament participants were leaning on the second-floor railing, looking down at the stage.
Even when I came up, no one took their eyes off the scene below. I also found a spot at an empty section of the railing. The next match followed immediately.
A burly man with a dark face befitting his name, Black Bear, faced off against a skinny man called Mad Laughing Sword. Black Bear used a typical saber technique that relied on bullying with brute force, while Mad Laughing Sword employed an insidious sword technique, striking and retreating to poke at openings.
It didn't matter to me who won, but I still found myself silently cheering for Black Bear as I watched. The fight didn't even last more than ten clashes. Mad Laughing Sword used a cunning sword form to deflect the saber strike and slashed Black Bear's arm.
Immediately after, Black Bear's side was also split open, spewing blood.
"Die! You rat-like bastard!"
His eyes wild, Black Bear charged forward, taking the sword with his whole body. In an instant, he closed the distance and succeeded in cutting Mad Laughing Sword's shoulder. The moment Black Bear's face was painted with cruel joy, blood burst from his neck.
"Keok!"
Clutching his half-severed neck, Black Bear stumbled backward. One must know when to advance and when to retreat to live a long life, but Black Bear was a step too late.
Kuung!
Black Bear collapsed with a heavy thud that made the floor tremble.
"Mad Laughing Swordsman wins!"
Waaaaah!
"See, fights aren't won with size! The odds for Mad Laughing Swordsman were seven to one. Hahaha, what great luck, and so early in the evening!"
"Black Bear! You useless, big-for-nothing oaf! Get up! You think I bet money on you just to lie there?"
Despite the gamblers' fierce rebukes, Black Bear did not get up. Blood pooled widely around his head, and after a brief convulsion, he died. Several staff members rushed over and dragged the limp body of Black Bear away.
A long trail of blood was left on the floor. A man had just died, but no one screamed in shock or loudly demanded accountability for Black Bear's death. Those who bet on the victorious Mad Laughing Swordsman cheered, while those who bet on the dead Black Bear only spewed curses and insults.
This was a martial arts tournament. Even if they fought on the same stage with the same blades, it was completely different from a sparring session meant to test skills, gain experience, and enhance a school's honor. A martial arts tournament was all about money, from beginning to end.
The organizers made a huge amount of money from entry fees, admission fees, and gambling on the matches. Most of the participants ended up dead or injured, and most of the gamblers who bet money ended up broke.
Only the winner and a few losers who showed skill might get a chance to become house guests for a minor faction or sect. A martial arts tournament was just like a cockfight or a dogfight. The only difference was that instead of chickens and dogs, two-legged martial artists were fighting.
I had spectated a few such tournaments while wandering the Central Plains, but I had never participated in one. It was because I hated this damn atmosphere.
No matter how worthless a martial artist's life was, less than that of a dog or a pig, I didn't want to swing my blade while being treated like a fighting cock or a fighting dog.
If a spiritual herb hadn't been offered as a prize, if I hadn't learned inner energy, I wouldn't have given this tournament, or anything like it, a second glance. The staff wiped away the bloodstains, and the matches continued. Two martial artists stepped onto the stage, which still reeked of blood.
Among the spectators, those who recognized them raised their voices.
"Oh, it's Great Hero Hwang! Great Hero Hwang Kang-ju!"
The martial artists leaning on the railing and watching the stage also began to stir. It was a familiar face to me as well. It was the middle-aged man who had asked me to write his name on the participation token yesterday.
A swordsman with a goatee sighed.
"Hah, so Great Hero Hwang is also in this tournament. This won't be easy..."
"Who is he?"
"He's a well-known hero from the River Harbor Village."
A martial artist with twin blades on his back snorted derisively.
"A hero? In an age where every Tom, Dick, and Harry calls himself a great hero, and even street thugs who extort money in the market claim to be heroes, what's so special about that?"
As if his own family had been insulted, the man with the goatee frowned and flared up.
"Great Hero Hwang is a true hero, fundamentally different from those ruffians."
A gloomy-looking swordsman who had been silent spoke up.
"If it's Great Hero Hwang from the River Harbor Village, I've heard of him too. They say he is a true man, full of righteousness and chivalry."
The man with the goatee burst into a hearty laugh, a proud expression on his face.
"Haha, that's right. He's a different breed from day-to-day swordsmen like us. My cousin lives in the River Harbor Village, and he says that whenever the villagers suffer an injustice, they seek out Great Hero Hwang before even going to the county magistrate."
Seeing that everyone was listening intently, the excited man with the goatee puffed out his chest and continued.
"Whether it's drifters, bandits, or ruffians hired by landowners, there's no one who hasn't been crushed by Great Hero Hwang's hands. And he doesn't ask for anything in return. Now that's a true great hero, the kind you'd read about in the tales of heroes."
"Hmph, that's a long way of saying he's a busybody."
The man with the twin blades was still cynical. The man with the goatee was about to say something, but the gloomy swordsman spoke first.
"I heard Great Hero Hwang's family is not doing well. There's talk that his family is starving, and I also heard his house was taken over by debtors because he needed money for his sick child's medicine."
The man with the goatee clicked his tongue with a look of pity.
"Tsk, that's what makes him so great, isn't it? In a world where people will put on a face covering and jump over someone else's wall after starving for just one day, he always puts righteousness first and fulfills his duties as a hero... Fellows like us couldn't imitate him even if we died and came back to life."
Could such a martial artist exist in this world? Even in the righteous sects of the martial world, there were many who cared for and managed their reputations, but I had rarely seen a proper hero. The man with the goatee looked down at Hwang Kang-ju on the stage with eyes mixed with respect and pity, and muttered to himself.
"How could it be easy to uphold the reputation of a hero? I really hope Great Hero Hwang wins today..."
On the stage, Hwang Kang-ju clasped his fist to the opponent standing before him.
"I am Hwang Kang-ju of the River Harbor Village."
His opponent also politely returned the gesture.
"I am Yu Chan-gyeong. I have long heard of Great Hero Hwang's reputation. It is an honor to be able to learn a move from you."
After the greetings were finished, the two martial artists drew their blades and pointed them at each other. Hwang Kang-ju lowered the tip of his blade and said with a relaxed expression.
"I will yield the first move."
"I shall not refuse."
Yu Chan-gyeong bit his lip, kicked off the floor, and charged forward.