Chapter 115
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 115
Chapter Title: Flash Thunder
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In the realms from third-rate to second-rate to first-rate, going without a weapon is tantamount to suicide.
Even upon reaching the peak realm where one can project internal energy outward, relying primarily on fists means forfeiting the advantage of reach and exposing one's limbs to the risk of being sliced by blades—a foolish endeavor.
However, those fist masters who breakthrough such a thorny path to attain super peak gain the overwhelming advantage of a Gang Body.
An absolute defense impervious to ordinary blades or strikes, capable of even deflecting attacks infused with Gang Qi.
Yet So-hyang had once torn through Gang Qi with her intent-infused hand blade even before forging her Spirit Sword, when her body was still immature.
Now, with skillful manipulation of spirit energy to produce even Gang Qi of her own, there was no reason she couldn't cleave a Gang Body possessing intensity beyond mere Gang Qi.
"Hm, it's still pretty tough."
She hadn't intended to cut deep enough to endanger his life, but even so, managing only a shallow scratch was underwhelming.
Truly, a fist master who had reached super peak was on another level. Among all her opponents to date, none could compare in terms of pure defensive prowess.
"Well now, it's been ages since I've felt this sensation..."
She had cut hay bales, then wood, then human flesh, beasts, rocks, metals—everything under the heavens.
And at the pinnacle of severing, So-hyang had arrived, her realization of Iron Cutting as its essence.
Even compared to reinforced concrete, titanium-tungsten alloys, tank armor, and even diamonds that she had "severed," the body before her now, infused with Gang Qi, was the toughest yet.
A pure, overwhelming durability distinct from the indestructibility of demonic or divine weapons.
The urge to challenge pure swordsmanship welled up—to slice without spatial rends or projected intent.
Encountering an opponent so firm, resilient, tenacious, and unyielding was a rare thrill indeed; she could scarcely contain her excitement.
In So-hyang's eyes, the general's Gang Body was no different from a whetstone to hone her blade sharper.
"Ahaha, this'll be worth the cut—!"
A feral smile tugged at her lips, her cheeks flushing with exhilarated breaths.
"...Tch!"
At the same instant, alarms blared madly in his senses; gooseflesh erupted across the general's skin, his body hair standing on end.
Instinctively crossing his arms to shield his face, a barrage of slashes rained down, mercilessly shredding his entire body.
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Once both began fully deploying internal energy and employing Gang Qi in earnest, the flow of the spar had remained consistent.
The general endured the relentless cascade of hand blades, gritting his teeth as he pressed forward, hurling fists and feet.
So-hyang dodged, deflected, and blocked every incoming strike, swinging her hand blades with a beaming smile.
At a glance, it seemed an even exchange of offense and defense, but a closer look revealed the disparity tilted heavily in one direction.
"-Urgh...!"
The general's face twisted, betraying his mounting frustration.
Her strikes pierced his Gang Body, but not deeply enough to be fatal; the extraordinary sharpness of her delicate hand blades wasn't the issue.
The true problem was simple.
He simply couldn't land a hit.
"-What the...!?"
A center-mass punch barely grazed past her leisurely step.
Swing the other arm for an elbow strike to the head, and she catches it with her palm, redirecting effortlessly.
Extend the leg for a low sweep, and she hooks the remaining supporting foot, slamming him to the ground.
Simply put.
The general's attacks all missed; So-hyang's all connected.
No need for complex analysis—the one who evades all incoming blows and lands all their own wins, plain and simple.
And So-hyang made that logic reality.
The general's martial prowess wasn't inferior to any opponent she'd faced before.
Charging bull-like with thunderous fists bolstered by his unique defenses would threaten anyone else.
Just not her.
For a warrior who favored orthodox close-quarters combat—projecting no Gang Qi along varied trajectories, deploying no special techniques granting unique abilities.
One who wielded techniques within the human body's limits, leaving even the slimmest chance for evasion.
So-hyang was confident she wouldn't allow even a single strike.
The culmination of lifetimes of experience from her past incarnation; insights forged in mad obsession and anguish; martial principles arrived at through ultimate truth.
"...Then how about this!"
The general channeled his internal energy, compressing dense Lightning Gang Qi onto his fist before swinging wide.
Wall-Shattering Thunder Flash Fist, Exploding Thunder Strike.
Aiming not at So-hyang but space itself—an air-rending palm strike exploding across an area.
"What do you think? Amateurish."
So-hyang swept her hand as if scattering dust from the ensuing blast of Lightning Gang Qi.
Fist masters, by nature, weren't adept at projecting energy; they were purists honing the body alone.
More efficient to close with lightness skill and strike than fire off punches from afar—barring special arts like Shaolin's Hundred-Step Divine Fist, no reason to train energy projection.
Super peak allowed superficial proficiency, but it fell short against her.
"...Ha, no answer."
Even he, acclaimed as supreme in close combat, was utterly overwhelmed by superior skill.
Resorting to clumsy energy blasts for area coverage, only to have them effortlessly dismantled.
Thicken Protective Gang Qi for a war of attrition? Her hand blades' sharpness would deplete him first.
Thus, one option remained.
"I'll use my ultimate technique."
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To a swordless swordswoman, even unleashing Gang Body while charging yielded only a single glancing blow to the side...
He'd anticipated a gap, but this was beyond imagination—an overwhelming prowess.
Reportedly just sixteen years old.
"Ha."
Talent reaching super peak at such youth paled to mere "talent" before true genius.
Skill honed to freakish extremes, akin to an ultimate technique itself.
A body rivaling a fist master's, save for lacking Gang Body.
Profound internal energy belying her youth.
Yes, this was the caliber to befriend the Blood Heir and reach super peak before thirty.
The general's eyes darkened deeply.
Sensations of defeat, inferiority, self-reproach roiled viscously within his heart.
He'd accepted this spar to conquer his heart demon, yet it only deepened his turmoil.
"Kukuku..."
The general let out a hollow laugh, exhaling deeply to shake off stray thoughts.
If heart demons yielded so easily, they wouldn't bear the name "demon."
Thus, but one path remained.
Pour forth every ounce of his martial arts.
"I'll use my ultimate technique."
Announcing a technique mid-fight might seem laughable, but this was no life-or-death duel—just a spar.
One arranged by Third Imperial Princess Zhu Yeonhwa for friendly purposes, no less.
Yet the general's ultimate technique was no type one could block simply by knowing it was coming.
Golden lightning crackled from the general's eyes; his faintly glowing Gang Body blazed intensely.
Fierce thunder coursed through meridians and nerves, rampaging beyond limits to propel his flesh to unprecedented heights.
His signature ultimate technique, Flash Thunder.
True to its name, with a flicker like lightning, the general's form vanished without even an afterimage.
At the same instant, So-hyang's body was violently hurled away.
"...Oh my."
Shot through the training hall's wall and out into the open, So-hyang belatedly heard the resounding thunderclap amid her dazed admiration.
No special tricks, no unique abilities employed.
Simply, pure speed.
In an instant shorter than an instant, over a dozen blows had hammered her face, jaw, abdomen, liver.
"Ngh, impressive."
So-hyang wiped the streaming nosebleed, grinning with delight.
An ultimate technique that generated no variables, merely amplifying innate abilities to their limits.
Powerful in its simplicity.
"Still smiling, are we."
Bombarded by hundreds of punches per second with no chance to respond, So-hyang let out a hollow chuckle.
'Heavens, what now?'
Floating midair and pummeled into a cloud of dust, she couldn't even muster a proper laugh.