Book 14 Chapter 15

The opening declaration of the Volcanic Convention!

- Old Man Hyukjung Appears!

"So, it's finally today."

Yoon Junho said, embracing the rising morning sun with his whole body. His face was flushed, and his voice was filled with the excitement of a teenage boy.

"Are you that happy?"

Jang Hong asked. Yoon Junho nodded vigorously as if he had been waiting for the question.

"Of course. It's the biggest tournament in the martial world, no matter what anyone says. It's a dream festival that all young martial artists yearn for. Ah, I can't believe someone like me gets to participate in this Volcanic Convention. It feels like a dream. I pinch myself several times even when I'm wide awake, wondering if this is real. I question if this isn't a dream."

It seems this timid young man still lacks confidence. However, he was much better than someone who would have slept through it all, only to wake up in a daze, even while attending a tournament like this.

"Well, being young is a good thing."

He decided to think of it in a positive light. Then, he shouted loudly towards Yoon Junho.

"Show those demonic path fellows the spirit of righteous path youths!"

In the lodging where the representatives of Macheongak were gathered, a boy was also bathing in the rising sunlight. He was a boy with a very young face overflowing with cuteness. It was Soyu, the boy they had first met a few days ago when Ryuryeon's group entered Hongmaegok.

"It's finally starting. The Volcanic Convention that I've longed for! We'll show those from Cheonmu Academy, those righteous path fellows who boast about how great they are, a thing or two."

"I'm looking forward to it."

A man with a scar on his left cheek replied in a gruff voice. He was the man called 'Elder Brother Isahyeong,' who had flipped Ryuryeon's group's attire a few days ago.

He had something much more important to do. What could be concentrating the mind of this man, who seemed to wear ice as his skin, so intensely? It was the meticulous care of his treasured weapon, to which he had entrusted his life.

"And this time, I will prove that I am a full-fledged man."

The boy, who had always been dissatisfied with his girlish appearance, said as if making a vow.

"Alright."

Another perfunctory answer came back. But the boy didn't care. Then, he swore while looking at the dazzling sun.

"Yes! I will win no matter what. I will defeat them and prove myself. I will show the righteous path fellows the spirit of demonic path youths! I will truly show them!"

However, at that time, the boy never dreamed that his expectations would be so spectacularly shattered.

Left Bai, Right Hei.

The black and white robes, clearly divided into left and right, black and white, were ceremonial garments that could be called evidence of the Yulryeongja.

The white on the left (Yang) and the black on the right (Yin).

The meaning embedded in this way of creating these robes is the symbolism of the harmony and accord of yin and yang.

The harmony of black and white.

It was also a symbol that reminded them of their duties and missions, standing here at this moment.

On the platform of the First Training Hall in Hongmaegok, dozens of Yulryeongja, clad in these yin-yang black and white robes, were lined up on both sides. Most of them had seasoned faces whose ages were difficult to guess, as if they held an immeasurable span of years in their embrace. Although there were some younger individuals – who were, at least, in their fifties – they were a mere handful. Yet, the presence exuded by these elders gathered together was so immense that it felt as if it filled the vast expanse of Hongmaegok.

"Were there so many Yulryeongja? Where have they all been hiding until now?"

Namgung Sang tilted his head, a sudden curiosity surging within him. They had been here for three days already, yet the number of Yulryeongja they had seen could be counted on one hand.

"Well… they must have been playing hide-and-seek."

Hyun Woon replied indifferently. His gaze was fixed on one spot, leaving him no room to divert his attention elsewhere.

"What's that spot in the middle?"

The center, where the Yulryeongja stood lined up, seemed to be reserved for someone. Namgung Sang's gaze followed his friend's.

"Is there still someone who needs to appear?"

It was then.

"Huh?"

The first person to notice him was Ryuryeon, whose head was tilted to the side.

"Oh?"

Yeomdo, who stood at the forefront of the orderly rows of guards, thrust his head forward. It was a violent movement, as if an invisible ghost's hand had forcefully yanked his neck.

"I-it can't be…"

His eyes widened to the size of saucers, as if by doing so, he could see even more clearly.

"This is happening…"

Binggeom's gaze was similarly sharp. Despite his strenuous training, he was now experiencing a significant disturbance in his heart.

"Huh? That old man…"

Ryuryeon's eyes, half-closed from sleepiness, snapped open. Had the old man's appearance been even a moment later, he would have already been lost in the Dreamland Journey.

Thump, thump, thump!

A white-haired old man, walking unhindered with the highest of honors from the line of white-haired Yulryeongja, as if it were a given. Not only Ryuryeon, but also Yeomdo and Namgung Sang found the old man's face very familiar. Even though it had been a short time, the time was too short and rushed to bury the old man, who had been with them until a few days ago, in the oblivion of the past.

No one with sight could deny that the yin-yang black and white robe the old man was wearing was brilliantly luminous.

The spot where the old man stopped was the vacant central Taesa.

Looking at the talents of the black and white paths lined up in the training hall, his immeasurably deep eyes overflowed with profound love and affection.

"Welcome, proud prodigies of the entire martial world, regardless of whether you are from the black or white path! You should all feel honored and proud to stand in this place where the most outstanding young talents of the current martial world have gathered, regardless of your affiliation or origin. And marvel and admire each other, regardless of affiliation or origin. For that is your inherent right and duty."

The old man's voice was filled with a profound strength that defied the passage of time.

"I am Hyukjung, who has the honor of being the overall in charge of the 10th Volcanic Convention. To be able to experience firsthand the youthful vigor, spirit, and lively wit of you young ones is a great joy, pleasure, and fortune for this old man with his aging body! From now on, I would like you to call this old man simply Old Man Hyuk."

It was a remarkably powerful and vibrant voice, not to be expected from such a small old man. His voice was truly filled with joy and delight. Therefore, that sincerity stirred the hearts of those who listened, coloring them with joy and lively delight.

However, the old man's true joy was yet to come. But for others, it would be considered misfortune. The old man's gaze swept across the assembled crowd, whose eyes shone brightly – though some did not.

How would these young ones receive the story I am about to tell? It would be a lie to say I wasn't curious. But since it wasn't a distant future, the result would soon be known.

"It may be sudden, and it may be bewildering…"

Finally, Hyukjung began to speak.

"I believe it is time for me to tell you a hidden story about the true purpose for which you, who have been chosen to gather here, have been brought together. This story may be very difficult for some of you to accept. You will be very confused. But do not be afraid. Those are natural reactions. However, do not reject or deny it. Because it is something that is absolutely necessary for a step into the future!"

The old man paused for a breath, as if giving them time to prepare their hearts. Then, he uttered a single sentence, decided over the past hundred years, that would shake everyone's hearts.

"It is a story about the hidden, true purpose of this Volcanic Convention!"

The true purpose?

Is the purpose of the Volcanic Convention not for the righteous path, represented by Cheonmu Academy, and the demonic path talents, represented by Macheongak, to gather every ten years to compete and cultivate their martial arts skills, in preparation for the possible revival of Cheongeomnyeong? Of course, behind the scenes, they also contend in secret through this tournament held every ten years to enhance their status and leadership in the martial world.

"Ryongryong, do you know what that is?"

To Ryuryeon's question, Hyoryong shook his head. Ryongryong was a nickname Ryuryeon playfully used for Hyoryong sometimes.

"How could I possibly know something like that!"

He looked even more sinister today. His unkempt hair had become even more grotesque. At this point, no one but someone with an exceptionally keen eye could recognize his face.

"What about you, Uncle?"

"The true purpose…"

Jang Hong also tilted his head.

"Was there such a thing?"

No matter how much he rummaged through the drawers of his memory, he couldn't find anything like it.

"It certainly wasn't like that last time…"

His mumbling was true.

"And this time, with the trial of Myeolgeop Samgwan, and the fact that it's the hundredth anniversary…"

A grand will was moving in places he didn't know. And finally, the old man began to tell that truth, that reality, that identity.

It was a story that even Jang Hong, who had seen it all, couldn't help but be astonished by.

"Many of you probably think this Volcanic Convention is just a tournament where the black and white paths meet and compete solely through martial arts."

'Isn't that obvious?'

People thought so.

"Of course, I understand that it's not unreasonable to think that way. Traditional martial arts tournaments have always emphasized martial strength. This Volcanic Convention was the same until the previous iterations. However, we have finally realized that thinking of martial strength as the ultimate measure greatly undermines the basic spirit with which this Volcanic Convention was originally conceived. We have been 'digging a hole' all this time."

Hyukjung continued speaking as the crowd held their breath.

"Of course, we do not intend to belittle martial arts. The original intention of this Volcanic Convention was to mutually improve skills through competition between both sides. However!"

The old man paused for emphasis before continuing.

"We discovered that when martial skill is regarded as the highest value, many detrimental effects arise."

"What are they?"

A participant asked.

"Martial arts duels can excessively stimulate people's fighting spirit. A fighting spirit that transcends fair competition breeds malice. That was the critical problem. And it was something we had all overlooked in the name of mutual improvement of martial arts."

"Isn't a martial arts tournament supposed to be like that? Besides martial arts, what else can be used to determine superiority in the Volcanic Convention?"

Another question erupted. Old Man Hyuk's voice became a little sharper. He felt the need to draw attention at this point.

"What did you think this Volcanic Convention was? Did you really think it was a simple tournament where people compete on a flat, square board to see who is stronger, and the winner is simply declared by injuring the opponent more or knocking them out of bounds?"

His tone was truly incredulous. And it contained a spirit that did not allow for refutation.

"But it certainly seemed that way until the last session…"

Jang Hong mumbled in a small voice.

"This is not such a simple tournament! Did you think a crucial tournament that designs the future of the entire martial world would be so rough and ignorant?"

It was a moment when all conventional martial arts tournaments suddenly became ignorant. As everyone answered with silence, the old man shouted again.

"That is a grave mistake! Moreover, the act of not recognizing and accepting each other, of turning away, excluding, and trying to defeat them, greatly violates the three great principles of the Volcanic Convention. Realizing that fact, we thought we had to correct the mistakes we had made. We only realized it after a hundred years."

Was there such a thing? Even those participating in this tournament for the second time, not the first, harbored this question. Naturally, a question arose.

"The Three Great Principles (Dae Sam Won Cheuk)?"

Hyukjung said with a resolute voice.

"They are friendship, harmony, and peace."

For a moment, time stood still, and everything froze. And a great mental panic ensued.

As the old man declared, the truth was so shocking that it robbed people of their courage and spirit alike.

"I-it can't be!"

'Of course!'

"It's madness!"

'Well, I can't help it if it looks that way!'

"Such a foolish…"

'Indeed, it could be seen as foolish.'

"It's, it's a lie! I can't believe such a lie!"

'As expected! Well, it's understandable!'

"There's no way that's possible!"

'You don't have to go that far!'

Perhaps at this very moment, they were sharing the same thought, regardless of their affiliation, origin, or gender.

"That's madness! That's impossible! There's no way that's possible!"

Almost everyone gathered in this First Training Hall fervently agreed with these words.

The reaction was truly as expected, intense. A common resolve to deny reality. But unfortunately, reality is reality, and truth is truth. If it were something that could be changed by denial, it could no longer be called truth.

Fortunately, the situation did not escalate to a state of collective madness. However, the mental exertion and depletion were immense to prevent them from boiling over into a cauldron of collective madness. A tremendous amount of energy was wasted just to maintain composure.

This was an act that completely overturned the values that these participants had built up throughout their lives.

From this alone, one can easily imagine how much power it would take to completely re-engineer their values.

Hyukjung quietly watched the young blood of the assembled crowd erupt and flail about. He was waiting for the confusion to naturally dissipate. And when the atmosphere had somewhat stabilized, he spoke again.

"I understand your surprise!"

'You don't seem to understand at all…'

He seemed to be enjoying their bewilderment and confusion.

"But do not treat this Volcanic Convention like any other trivial martial arts tournament! Those martial arts tournaments where victory is achieved by simply beating your opponent and making them bleed! We can never move forward through such tournaments, nor can we prepare for an unprecedented catastrophe that may befall us at any time!"

It was a terrifying warning. Questions poured in again.

"I have a question! What is this impending, unprecedented catastrophe?"

The gazes of the assembled crowd all focused on the old man's closed lips.

As if he had been waiting, a brutal answer came.

"It is the revival of Cheongeomnyeong."