The Martial God with Psychic Powers

Martial Alliance.
A letter of recommendation had arrived at the department responsible for overseeing the Divine Dragon Tournament.

“What the hell? The registration period’s already closed.”
“Sincheon Escort Company? What, now even escort companies are making a fuss to join the Divine Dragon Tournament?”
“It’s probably because of the prizes up for grabs this time.”

“Well, yeah. The Great Return Pill from Shaolin, the Supreme Purity Pill from Wudang, and the Purple Perilla Pill from Mount Hua are all being offered.”
“I’d want to enter too, if I were them.”
“Still, the application period is over. Why send a letter of recommendation now?”

“Let’s just check who sent it.”
The staff tore open the letter.
“…What? It’s from the Hwangbo Clan?”
“This one’s from the Zhuge Clan.”

They glanced at the other recommendation letters stacked on the desk.
“No way… are they all from different sects?”
They opened the rest.

“This one’s from the Hebei Pang Clan.”
“This one’s from the Namgoong Clan.”
“Zhuangsword’s in here too.”

“Even the Beggars’ Union.”
All of them were core sects that made up the Martial Alliance.
Some letters even included statements saying their own sect would forfeit a slot if there wasn’t room.

The recommenders named four candidates:
Jang Woon and Sunwoo Baek of the Sincheon Escort Company.
Bang Woon of the Cheon Gap Gate.

Jo Deok of the White Tiger Gate.
All from sects the staff had never heard of.
The administrators were thrown into confusion.

They checked again, wondering if it was a case of fake sect names.
But that wasn’t possible.
The letters had been physically delivered by official envoys from each sect who resided within the Martial Alliance headquarters.
“…What do we do?”

“I don’t think this is something we can decide. Let’s report it up the chain.”
 
****

The elder overseeing the Divine Dragon Tournament read the letters of recommendation his subordinates had brought him, one by one.
“…Hmm.”
“Isn’t it strange? Every major sect has submitted recommendations.”

“You’re right. And all for sects we’ve never even heard of. That escort company’s even putting forth two candidates.”
He checked the cultivation levels listed in the letters. These weren’t just average fighters.
And they were all still in their twenties.

“…Hmm.”
Where had these kinds of prodigies suddenly appeared from?
If they entered the Divine Dragon Tournament, it would undoubtedly cause a major stir.

But with this many sects backing them, they couldn’t be ignored.
Worse yet, the recommending sects were all so prominent that ignoring them would be political suicide.
“Damn it. Why did we even create the recommendation system in the first place…”

It had been meant to prevent overlooking hidden talents.
Any other year, he would’ve smiled and accepted them—but not this year.
The prizes had stirred everyone’s greed.

Even the elder himself wasn’t immune.
His own grandson was among the registered participants.
Naturally, as a grandfather, he wanted to cut down the number of competitors if he could.

After a long moment of brooding, the elder spoke.
“…Accept them.”
“You’re really accepting them?”

“Yes. We have no choice. We can’t afford to antagonize the sects that sent these letters. We need to save face. Accept them. And also…”
The elder trailed off, scanned the room, and then lowered his voice.
“…Set up the bracket so they all meet in the preliminaries.”

“…Sir?”
“They’re from different sects, so it won’t be a problem. At least one of them needs to be eliminated. If all four make it to the main tournament, it’ll be a nightmare.”
“Understood. I’ll draw up the bracket so only one can advance.”

The elder nodded in satisfaction, a sly smile forming on his lips.
The bracket was supposed to be drawn randomly in front of everyone.
So how would they rig it?

They had their ways.
A monkey named Seongseong would sit in a box filled with balls—each marked with a participating sect’s name—and draw them one by one.
But this monkey—

Was brilliant. It could understand human speech, and even read.
It just couldn’t speak.
But it could do everything else a human could.

The rigging method was simple.
They would speak to the monkey using sound transmission.
Then it would lift the ball they wanted.

This was how the organizers had secretly created favorable brackets for major sects in the past.
With so many sects entering anyway, and only the top ones expected to advance, no one suspected anything.
The plan this time was to make sure those four candidates met early.

In the end, only one would reach the main tournament.
Or better yet—none at all.
 

****
Yeon Woo Jin returned to Sincheonjang and summoned those participating in the Divine Dragon Tournament.
“Jang Woon and Sunwoo Baek will go as representatives of Sincheonjang. Bang Woon and Jo Deok are entering to bring recognition to their own sects. Do your best.”

“Yes, sir!”
It was obvious to anyone that Yeon Woo Jin was putting particular care into this group.
Namgoong Myeong and Hwangbo Gwang, watching from the side, couldn’t help but feel envious.

They wished he would treat them as casually, as closely.
Just then, Yeon Woo Jin turned his head and looked at the two of them.
“You two are entering the Divine Dragon Tournament as well, yes?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”
“We’ve participated continuously.”
“Then you must be quite familiar with the tournament.”

“If there’s anything you’re curious about, feel free to ask.”
“What’s the tournament format?”
“The matchups are drawn randomly. From there, everyone climbs up from the preliminaries. Even participants from the Five Great Clans or Nine Orthodox Sects aren’t exempt. Everyone starts at the bottom. The only exceptions are last tournament’s champion and a representative from the hosting sect—those two are seeded directly into the final 32.”

“What’s the age limit for participating?”
“Any man under the age of i-rip (而立)—thirty. Those older than that can compete in the World Martial Tournament hosted ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) by the Martial Alliance.”
“You said the bracket’s drawn randomly. How is it done?”

“There’s a wooden box, and inside it is a monkey with golden fur. It randomly pulls out balls marked with numbers. Those numbers are assigned to the bracket.”
“When is the bracket drawn?”
“To ensure fairness, it’s done in front of everyone the day before the tournament begins.”

Yeon Woo Jin nodded.
At that moment, Namgoong Myeong cautiously opened his mouth.
“Um… There’s something I’d like to say.”

“Yes. Go ahead.”
“We… would like to be treated like them.”
“…Pardon?”

“It’s just… it feels like our benefactor is keeping a certain distance, and honestly… it makes us feel left out.”
At Namgoong Myeong’s words, Hwangbo Gwang silently nodded in agreement.
Yeon Woo Jin let out a small laugh and replied.

“They’re my friends—before anything else. That’s why I treat them casually.”
“…We want that too. To be friends… with our benefactor…”
In truth, they wanted nothing more than to serve him faithfully.

But Namgoong Myeong was the Young Lord of the Namgoong Clan.
He couldn’t bring himself to say such words aloud.
Why? Why was his heart pulled toward this man like this?

He was barely suppressing, with superhuman effort, the overwhelming urge to wedge himself between Jang Woon and Sunwoo Baek and compete with them in loyalty—he felt like he was going to lose his mind.
If it weren’t for the fact that he held the position of Young Lord, he would have already prostrated himself before Yeon Woo Jin.
So this… this was what it meant to serve someone?

Was it because of this feeling?
Only now did he begin to understand the subordinates who followed his father with absolute devotion.
“Friends, huh? I’ve only just reached twenty. You two… you’re both over twenty-six, aren’t you?”

“In the Central Plains, what does age even matter? If someone’s stronger, he’s the elder.”
“Exactly. And if the age gap bothers you that much, just treat us as subordinates.”
At Hwangbo Gwang’s words, Namgoong Myeong turned in surprise to look at him.

“That’s it! I can’t take this anymore! I’ll follow the Young Lord!”
Hwangbo Gwang couldn’t hold it in any longer and blurted it out.
Then he dropped to his knees in front of Yeon Woo Jin.

“Please accept me! I’m going mad with the desire to compete in loyalty alongside them!”
Yeon Woo Jin looked visibly flustered by the act.
“You sure about this? You’re the Young Lord of your clan.”

“I will follow! I’m going insane with the desire to serve you. I don’t even know why I feel this way myself! But please—let me follow you!”
Yeon Woo Jin studied Hwangbo Gwang closely.
Hmm. This seems like some kind of special force is at work again.

Back in Mushincheon, people had pledged themselves after learning who he truly was, so he hadn’t given it much thought. But seeing people behave like this even here in the Central Plains… something felt off.
And it was the way Hwangbo Gwang acted that made him think so.
As if he were hypnotized.

But Yeon Woo Jin had never once placed Hwangbo Gwang under hypnosis.
Was something being unconsciously emitted from his body?
No, that couldn’t be it.

If that were true, the entire Central Plains would already be chasing after him, begging to serve him.
So what was different about these few?
There was only one thing: his energy had passed through their bodies.

Thinking back, everyone he had physically touched had ended up becoming his subordinate.
“May I take your pulse for a moment?”
“I’m perfectly sane.”

“That’s not what I meant. There’s something I need to check.”
At Yeon Woo Jin’s request, Hwangbo Gwang extended his arm without hesitation.
Yeon Woo Jin began taking his pulse.

He carefully examined the flow of energy in Hwangbo Gwang’s body.
But there was no trace of his own qi anywhere.
Hwangbo Gwang had already made the energy entirely his own.

Yeon Woo Jin tilted his head.
He had assumed the lingering presence of his qi was the cause—but no.
That wasn’t it.

Was my assumption wrong?
For the first time, Yeon Woo Jin was facing a mystery he couldn’t solve.
Hwangbo Gwang’s condition was perfectly normal.

When the pulse reading ended, Hwangbo Gwang spoke again.
“There’s nothing wrong, right? Then please, let me follow you.”
“Then go get permission first.”

“…Pardon?”
“You’re the Young Lord of your clan. If your clan lord gives permission, I’ll accept you. But not before then.”
That was clearly a rejection.

What father in his right mind would approve of his son—the heir to the clan—pledging loyalty to someone else?
Namgoong Myeong, who had held on to a flicker of hope, now shook his head. I knew it would turn out like this.
But then—

“Understood! I’ll get his permission and return!”
Namgoong Myeong flinched in shock.
Wh-What did he just say? Is he insane?

“You promised. You said you’d accept me if I brought permission.”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll be back! I’m going home right now!”

With that, he rose, bowed to Yeon Woo Jin, and immediately shot off toward the direction of the Hwangbo Clan.
Namgoong Myeong stared blankly after him.
Should I do the same?

…He considered it for a moment, but shook his head.
That wasn’t the path for him.
His duty wasn’t over.

To remain at Yeon Woo Jin’s side to the very end.
To serve him.
He wanted to continue doing so—always.

Namgoong Myeong made up his mind.
Even if it meant getting beaten to death, he too would go and get permission.
 

****
At the front gate of the Hwangbo Clan.
Though he had left shouting boldly, now that he stood before his home, Hwangbo Gwang felt a wave of fear wash over him.

The gatekeepers spotted his hesitant figure and approached with welcoming smiles.
“Young Lord! You’ve returned already?”
“Huh? Ah… yeah. It turned out that way. Is Father inside?”

“Yes. He’s at home.”
“Got it.”
Taking a deep breath, Hwangbo Gwang strode into the manor.

No matter how he thought about it, he had to speak up.
Even now, at this very moment, all he could think about was Yeon Woo Jin.
He arrived at the clan lord’s room and took another deep breath before knocking on the door.

Knock knock—
“Who is it?”
“It’s me, Father.”

“Come in.”
When he stepped inside, he was greeted by Hwangbo Won’s bright, joyful expression.
Seeing that face made guilt surge in his chest.

He was about to commit an act of disobedience—against a father who was this happy to see him.
Should he just… not say anything?
The thought crossed his mind, but no.

He had to say it.
Better to come clean and hand over the Young Lord position entirely.
“My son, is something troubling you? Why the long face?”

“Father… there’s someone I wish to follow.”
“…Hm? What are you talking about?”
“There is someone I want to serve as my lord. Please do not blame this unworthy son.”

Hwangbo Won remained silent.
“I will… relinquish the Young Lord position. I’ll pass it on to my younger brother.”
Hwangbo Gwang spoke while kneeling on the ground.

But still, Hwangbo Won gave no response.
Was the shock too great?
Guilt churned inside him.

Then—
“…Is it that man—your benefactor?”