Chapter 107
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 107
Chapter Title: Complete Defeat
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Sorcery is the collective term for methods that alter reality using qi.
Then, isn't martial arts ultimately sorcery as well?
Absorbing natural qi to build internal energy, then expending that inner power to unleash martial techniques.
Can't that also be called sorcery?
Strictly speaking, it wasn't wrong, but there was a subtle difference.
The qi handled by martial arts refers to internal energy—a power accumulated in the body and refined into one's own.
The qi handled by sorcery refers to the innate forces of the world or beyond it—external power.
Thus, the qi wielded by a martial artist manipulating their own possessions is more active, responsive to their will.
The sorcery of a sorcerer, borrowing external flows and wills, is more passive, bound by forms, rituals, and countless systems and laws.
Different paths, different goals.
Yet, as all streams return to the sea, at their peaks, the two strangely converge in form.
What is a Venerable who has reached the Flower Realm?
One who has transcended principles through accumulated cultivation and enlightenment, breaking free from the microcosm into the macrocosm.
A realm where the mind overwhelms reality, defying nature's laws and imposing one's own.
In a word, the externalization of the inner self.
What of a Star Envoy who has attained the Star Throne?
A researcher who explored and wielded external forces, finally reaching their origin.
A paradox where the world exists because they observe it—not the other way around.
In a word, the internalization of the outer world.
Though their methods differ, the two are strikingly similar.
Even they themselves would struggle to find differences when comparing a Venerable's mindscape to a Star Envoy's star law.
So-hyang saw it the same way.
One thing was certain: the Dean was extraordinarily powerful.
He was a star incarnate in human form, a living natural disaster wielding utterly irresistible might.
"Yes, this is it...!"
But So-hyang was one who made challenging the impossible a daily habit, elevating herself through it.
She couldn't have been more thrilled.
The faint smile curving her lips tore into a sharp arc.
The gentle light in her eyes filled with a calm yet savage madness.
Teaching cute juniors was meaningful, and seeing someone savor the food she poured her heart into was joyful.
But all that paled before the sword.
The thrilling shiver racing from her lower back to her fingertips and toes, the ecstasy filling her heart.
She had never felt more alive—
"Haaaaah..."
Her flushed face panting with excitement, she rolled up her sleeves to bare her pale forearms and plucked out the wedge embedded there with her fingers.
"...What."
A flicker of bewilderment crossed the Dean's face.
The air sucked into his grip, space trembling from sheer physical force.
A body of monstrous strength beyond all reason.
"So, I'll go all out now...?"
A smile brighter than ever lit So-hyang's face, followed by a roar beyond human hearing.
-----
Beyond the Imperial Academy, outside Beijing.
A vast empty plain where no city or village lay within sight of the horizon.
A crater scarred the peak of a distant mountain, as if struck by a meteor.
So-hyang lay there, staring at the sky.
"...Haha, I lost."
Her organs shaken, she coughed up blood-mixed phlegm.
Her left arm twisted unnaturally, circulation blocked and bruising purple; her legs mangled in a sight that hurt just to behold.
Several fingers broken, the skin on her left side scorched by blue flames, blisters rising.
"Cough, urgh... You're on another level, huh?"
Whether honed steel to its limit, sword pressure tearing space, flowing Taiji, adaptive vision seeking gaps—against the overwhelming difference in class, every means proved futile.
It wasn't just class; something fundamental set them apart.
She had pulled out all thirty-six titanium piercings embedded in her body, releasing its restraints to at least match him somewhat.
Yet she was still crushed like a bug.
"Ahem, how embarrassing."
She had boasted it wouldn't be that easy when requesting the spar, only to end up in such a pathetic state?
Her path ahead was still distant, but amid the regret, So-hyang felt unbridled joy.
She recalled the gap with the Alliance Leader she had gauged before.
An overwhelming disparity where, without risking her soul and mind by rampaging her intent, she couldn't even scratch him.
Compared to that, hadn't she grown?
Look at the Dean's stunned expression gazing down from above, and the severed pinky on his left hand.
"Ha, what the hell..."
Unable to contain her delight, So-hyang let out a bloody laugh and rose refreshingly.
"Hm, I'm fine."
She forced her half-corpse of a body upright on willpower alone, snapped her broken limbs back into place with brute force, and said so.
"Fine? You're not in pain?"
"Nah, this'll heal with some spit."
"Ah, I see."
The Dean descended from the sky, plopping down beside her with a weary look and sighing.
"Haa, are you really sane? I almost killed you for real..."
His strikes had been somewhat ruthless for subduing a vastly inferior foe, but the Dean had his excuses.
The scars from their spar littered the surroundings as proof.
Mountains cleaved entirely.
Hills split into valleys.
Rivers engulfed in blue flames and evaporated, molten stone mountains, forests of ash and embers.
The ground upheaved and collapsed as if from cataclysmic shifts...
This was unmistakably the realm of natural disasters, transcendent feats no human could achieve.
It was far beyond supreme mastery.
"...And you say this isn't Venerable level? You're insane."
Not a true Flower Realm, hence the fundamental gap, yet its destructive power rivaled a Venerable's—an enigma.
Not just raw power, but the instinctive, chilling menace.
Facing such an opponent charging heedlessly, even the Dean couldn't hold back.
"Haaaa... Satisfied now?"
The Dean shuddered in exasperation.
One moment sweetly smiling, delighted just watching him eat; the next, eyes rolling back as she lunged—who wouldn't be unnerved?
The sentiments of Flower Realm and Star Throne transcendents toward those below are uniform.
Like humans viewing insects—generous even, more akin to microbes in truth.
Absolute certainty from within that inferiors cannot touch them.
But So-hyang? Clearly not at that realm, yet her feats were utterly different.
He had even lost a finger—how could goosebumps not rise?
To the Dean, So-hyang appeared a venomous pest, source of a vicious plague.
Harmless on the surface, yet his senses screamed alarms.
Incomprehensible, thus unsettling, disconcerting, even faintly terrifying.
Honestly, he didn't want to fight anymore. The Dean wasn't one to enjoy battle like most martial artists.
So-hyang, meanwhile, ignored her wrecked body and voiced only regret.
"Hmm... Honestly, it felt a bit lacking..."
She had fought her best, but was simply overwhelmed unilaterally.
Without resentment toward defeat, one stagnates; without desperate craving for victory, there is no growth.
If she could, she'd spar until death for that slim chance of enlightenment.
"...For real?"
The Dean's face hardened coldly.
"You could actually die—"
"Don't worry. I won't ask for more."
Regrettably, it was a spar.
Killing the opponent was trouble; being killed was trouble. Forcing unwanted karma on them would be cruel.
A chronic flaw in friendly bouts she'd long considered.
Friendly exchanges where both hold back, by nature.
Having clashed with a Star Throne Envoy only fueled her desires further.
"Hmm, wonder if some expert worth killing will drop by..."
She craved true combat—blood, killing intent, dancing on knife's edge.
Still, no need to rush.
In this vast Central Plains, finding vile scum to kill or a consensual deathmatch foe wouldn't be hard.
Fate would weave the threads; patience would bring them.
"Haa, what crazy bitch did the Academy befriend...?"
Hearing the mutter beside her, the Dean pressed his brow against the oncoming headache.
He seemed to have tied himself to that crazy bitch.