Chapter 176
Chapter 176
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 176
Chapter Title: Subduing the Mad Dog
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It wasn't arrogance, nor a hasty judgment.
He had seen through the fact that Monk Gu Jeok was hiding a certain level of skill ever since they had clashed yesterday.
If—and truly just if—Monk Gu Jeok had only shown one-tenth of his ability yesterday and concealed the remaining nine-tenths...
'If that were the case, your moniker wouldn't be Mad Dog—it would be Black Dragon.'
Even if the bastard had hidden half his strength, Wi Seong-cheon was confident he could handle it. That was why he had sought out Monk Gu Jeok.
Unaware of that harsh assessment, Monk Gu Jeok bled profusely from the eyelid he had sliced open himself, yet he radiated killing intent. But he didn't charge recklessly; instead, he first corrected his stance.
Wi Seong-cheon let him do as he pleased.
Standing atop a boulder, Monk Gu Jeok glared murderously up at Wi Seong-cheon, who looked down on him.
He slowly shook the dagger in his hand while letting his left arm hang down.
Wi Seong-cheon knew the man was proficient with hidden weapons and various arms.
It meant he had many cards to play, but it didn't feel particularly threatening.
What mattered more than having a bunch of tricks was mastering at least one thing perfectly.
'Or being a ridiculous monster like that guy.'
Wi Seong-cheon thought of Mu Yeon-jun and smirked. Comparing him to Mu Yeon-jun made the already unimpressive Monk Gu Jeok seem even more pathetic.
'He's laughing?'
Monk Gu Jeok caught Wi Seong-cheon's sneer.
His blood boiled. Layers of pent-up frustration and irritation piled up in his chest, finally exploding with a bang.
From the start, Monk Gu Jeok had been thinking of Wi Seong-cheon as an outlet for his various troubles.
But what was this? He was the one being mocked.
He, the sub-sect leader of the Frenzied Blade Sect—one of the Six Great Evil Gates—and known as the Mad Dog of the Black Overlord!
By some bat-like nobody from the despised Heavenly Flower Sect, who had only recently made a name for himself with the laughable moniker of Hidden Dragon!
In the end, that was it.
Wi Seong-cheon hadn't underestimated Monk Gu Jeok's level, but Monk Gu Jeok had underestimated Wi Seong-cheon.
That became the decisive difference.
Monk Gu Jeok didn't think himself impatient, yet he moved first in the end.
Wrapping himself in protective aura, he leaped forward and hurled the dagger he gripped straight at Wi Seong-cheon's face.
His left hand, which had been hanging down, immediately reached for his waist.
A whip hidden in his coiled belt sprang forth, slicing through the air with a fierce whoosh.
Wi Seong-cheon leaned back to dodge the dagger flying at his face. His foot naturally stepped forward to maintain balance.
That was what Monk Gu Jeok had aimed for. With a flick of his wrist, the whip lashed out wildly. It coiled around Wi Seong-cheon's ankle as it fell.
Monk Gu Jeok yanked the whip to disrupt Wi Seong-cheon's stance. The hand that had thrown the dagger balled into a fist and slammed toward Wi Seong-cheon's solar plexus.
'......?!'
He pulled hard on the ankle caught by the whip, but Wi Seong-cheon didn't fall. His legs split apart with flexible ease, crotch nearly brushing the ground.
Now it was Monk Gu Jeok whose position was awkward. He had pulled the whip back with his arm fully extended, while thrusting his fist forward to strike the solar plexus.
No real power could come from such a sloppy stance. Brushing it aside was effortless.
Wi Seong-cheon casually raised the back of his hand to meet the fist once, sending it whipping aside with the push.
It all happened in an instant.
Monk Gu Jeok panicked greatly but trusted the protective aura enveloping his body.
A vain trust. Wi Seong-cheon's hand boldly pierced through the aura. By now, his own hand was wrapped in a thin layer of qi.
The White Flame Witch's Phantom Soul Grasp.
The "clean" way to use it targeted the brief moment when internal energy transformed into aura.
Executing it flawlessly in any situation required tremendous proficiency.
As difficult as it was, Phantom Soul Grasp was devastatingly effective. If you struck at that precise instant, you could scatter the energy before it solidified into aura and steal it away.
Naturally, such a supreme technique had precursor methods that paved the way.
Fwoosh!
Wi Seong-cheon's and Monk Gu Jeok's auras clashed. The mingling energies ignited white-hot, spraying shards.
The White Flame Witch had called this messy and inefficient.
Unavoidable, really. Forcing energies to collide burned some away, reducing what could be absorbed.
But Wi Seong-cheon was more familiar with this inefficient, chaotic method. It resembled the Heavenly Flower Sect's Qi Explosion Points and recirculations.
The difference was that the Heavenly Flower Sect's arts carried some risk in colliding with an opponent's aura to find weak Qi Explosion Points, whereas Phantom Soul Grasp was far less dangerous than those.
From the moment of collision, Phantom Soul Grasp disrupted the opponent's energy.
'Pairs well with the Heavenly Flower Sect's arts, too.'
It scattered the energy while shaking the aura's cohesion.
Among the dimming, weakened spots, Wi Seong-cheon climbed along Monk Gu Jeok's arm and boldly struck a Qi Explosion Point.
The white-hot aura burst. Monk Gu Jeok's eyes bulged wide. He couldn't comprehend the absurd event happening to him.
'Breaking protective aura in one exchange? This lunatic!'
Unbelievable, yet real.
Monk Gu Jeok tried to yank his arm back, but Wi Seong-cheon's hand didn't let go. He hadn't forgotten his own words.
Crunch!
Monk Gu Jeok's arm twisted sideways. The joint shattered, muscles tore.
His mouth gaped wide, but no scream escaped. The excruciating pain merely made foam bubble at his lips.
After wringing the right arm like a rag, Wi Seong-cheon drew his still-split legs together and stood.
"Ugh. Feels like it pulled a bit—been a while."
Wi Seong-cheon patted his buttock and bantered. Still gripping Monk Gu Jeok's arm, he wrenched it behind the man's back and pressed down steadily.
Despite having strength left, Monk Gu Jeok didn't resist forcibly and obediently dropped to his knees.
"S-spare me."
He grasped the situation quickly.
His right arm was mangled. He didn't even want to think about it, let alone look.
It burned like fire, then felt heavy as if weighted with iron.
Sweat poured from Monk Gu Jeok as he spoke.
"I'll give you all the twin stones I have. So spare me."
"Wise choice."
It hadn't even taken ten seconds.
Wi Seong-cheon released Monk Gu Jeok's arm. The man started to sigh in relief, but Wi Seong-cheon's hand mercilessly seized his left arm.
"W-wait."
"I won't kill you. I'll let you live. But you don't need both legs to run away, right?"
"I-I need at least one arm. What if I'm ambushed on the way out of the forest...?"
"That's not my problem. I'm sparing you, aren't I?"
As he spoke, Wi Seong-cheon glanced up with a smirk and patted Monk Gu Jeok's shoulder.
"Or ask him for help."
"What the hel—aaargh!"
He had desperately endured the right arm's pain, but the left arm's crushing agony was too much.
Monk Gu Jeok let out a ridiculous, pathetic scream—but it cut short.
Wi Seong-cheon had struck the back of his neck, forcing him unconscious.
"You gonna keep watching?"
Wi Seong-cheon flipped the limp body over and thoroughly searched inside the man's clothes.
Three pairs of twin stones emerged from his groin, wrapped in cloth. Wi Seong-cheon stripped off the cloth, discarded it, and pocketed the stones.
"Or do you want a share?"
"No, sir."
A response came.
Yuk Jin-il dropped from a tall nearby tree.
Standing silently on the ground, hands tucked into his sleeves, he stared at Wi Seong-cheon with bull-like eyes.
"Senior Brother. What the hell was that just now?"
"What, the leg split?"
Wi Seong-cheon bantered and lifted his leg slightly. Meant as a joke, but Yuk Jin-il didn't crack a smile.
The dry reaction oddly reminded him of U Ha-yeon.
'I should make sure to take senior brother jokes seriously from now on.'
Thinking that, he lowered his leg.
"You burst his aura."
"Why so surprised? You must've heard the stories from before you enrolled."
"I know you burst Senior Brother Jin-bae of Shaolin's protective aura. I didn't see it myself, but I can tell the technique you just used is different from the one you fought him with."
"Don't spout off without seeing it yourself."
"Did you learn it from the White Flame Witch?"
Yuk Jin-il pressed boldly. Nothing to hide, so Wi Seong-cheon chuckled and nodded.
"Kinda happened that way. Not her disciple—just got some pointers on the art."
"I wouldn't blame you for becoming the White Flame Witch's disciple. Demonic Cult and Evil Faction are different."
Even as he said it, Yuk Jin-il's face remained sullen.
The Kunlun Sect had failed to hold against the Demonic Cult and monsters' assaults, abandoning Kunlun Mountain and fleeing south.
They harbored the deepest grudge against the Demonic Cult among the Nine Great Righteous Sects, but that didn't mean a prestigious orthodox sect like Kunlun approved of the Evil Faction.
"Be careful not to be tainted by evil qi."
"It's not some evil art."
"If Evil Faction arts aren't evil arts, what are?"
"Then Heavenly Flower Sect was Evil Faction until a century ago, so are their arts evil arts too?"
"Why nitpick a well-meant warning?"
Yuk Jin-il's lips puffed out like a child's. The reaction again reminded Wi Seong-cheon of U Ha-yeon.
He could see why she teased him so mischievously—it was fun tormenting a junior, even if just a year apart.
"If you're free, drag this bastard out of the forest."
"How do you know if I'm free?"
"You're free—that's why you were spectating."
"...Not free. I was interested in your martial arts."
Yuk Jin-il tucked in his pouty lips and made excuses.
His speech lacked courtesy, but his eyes held deep respect and admiration for Wi Seong-cheon.
The sight of him subduing Monk Gu Jeok had been that impressive.
'First time seeing protective aura broken like that.'
It broadened his understanding of martial arts.
Aura could only be countered with aura.
Fights with protective aura usually came down to proficiency in aura arts and depth of internal energy.
Thus, battles between high masters who had opened their mid dantian often turned into wars of attrition.
Yet Wi Seong-cheon had crushed Monk Gu Jeok in a flash. Astonishing.
Yuk Jin-il couldn't fully grasp the method, but he knew it was a supreme technique that toyed with countless aura-dependent masters.
"...If you grant my small request, I won't refuse yours."
"What?"
"Teach me one move."
His hands emerged from his sleeves.
Wi Seong-cheon hadn't answered yet, but Yuk Jin-il was already in fighting stance.
Wi Seong-cheon blinked wide-eyed, then burst out laughing.
"Why ask permission?"
"...Pardon?"
"This isn't the Heavenly Academy. I'm allied with Black Swallow Hundred-Li Fragrance, you're with Mad Dog Gu Jeok-sa. We're not senior and junior—we're enemies. No need for permission; attack if you want."
"...If we're enemies, not senior-junior, I don't have to call you senior?"
"Of course you do. You planning to stay in the Black Forest forever instead of returning?"
Yuk Jin-il's expression eased at the chuckling reply.
He thrust one foot forward and cupped his fists in salute.
"Then I'll learn one move."
"If you're at it, make it more than..."
Before Wi Seong-cheon finished, Yuk Jin-il kicked off the ground.
"...one."
The Kunlun Cloud Dragon Great Eight Forms unfolded.
Unlike Heavenly Ascension or Void Treading, which high realms allowed natural execution of, this was a systematic sky-dominating technique.
Yuk Jin-il's trajectory as he dashed through the air was erratic and complex, hard to predict.
The hallmark of Cloud Dragon Great Eight Forms: once airborne, you never knew where it'd go next.
Rising to the sky in one step, then unleashing at least eight changes—it evoked a dragon freely roaming the heavens.
At least eight. Only then could one claim entry to the form.
Yuk Jin-il, hailed as Kunlun's top prodigy with the moniker White Cloud Racer.
His Cloud Dragon Great Eight Forms didn't stop at eight.
His shadow split like lightning, shooting forth. He weaved high and low, leaving clear afterimages.
The blurring afterimages dazzled the eyes, like clouds from the high sky overwhelming the view.
Watching Monk Gu Jeok fall easily, Yuk Jin-il had devised his own countermeasures for facing Wi Seong-cheon.
Best not to use protective aura. If it broke that easily, it offered no defense.
Instead, he infused qi throughout his body.
Dizzyingly fast.
No sound of drawing a sword, yet he now held one.
A length that wouldn't hinder movement, tip unusually elongated like an awl.
Scattering afterimages, chaotic clouds.
But Wi Seong-cheon had his eyes squarely on Yuk Jin-il.
Supreme Void Dragon Slaughtering Sword Art.
Yuk Jin-il flipped midair and thrust fiercely. A dragon bursting from clouds descended to engulf Wi Seong-cheon.
'......?!'
His vision flipped.
Dull agony throbbed in his back, right wrist aching.
Too fast to react... understanding came late.
'Caught, flipped, and smashed down.'
An absurdly anticlimactic end. Defeated this easily?
Yuk Jin-il blinked and looked ahead. Clear sky stretched above.
"Too hasty."
Wi Seong-cheon peeked over, looking down.
"Funny for me—who doesn't know Kunlun arts—to backseat, but Junior Brother Yuk Jin-il, it's not your arts; your mind's impatient. Makes you easy to read."
"...What do you mean I was hasty?"
"I'm not at Heavenly Ascension level yet. I can Void Tread, but not fly like you. You had the high ground advantage, I was low. No need for you to rush."
"...If you were a real enemy, I wouldn't have rushed."
"Then I wouldn't have just slammed you down—I'd have countered differently. Anyway, Junior Brother Yuk Jin-il, it's all in how you think."
"...What does that even mean?"
"Wanted to try it. Couldn't think of anything profound."
Wi Seong-cheon chuckled and helped him up.
Yuk Jin-il silently brushed dirt from his back.
Impatient.
Was he really? Honestly, unsure. He hadn't exactly charged desperately.
He had asked for instruction first. But he couldn't fully deny it—impatience lingered in his heart like a heavy burden.
Not just him; every Kunlun master felt it.
"...Thank you."
But that wasn't the defeat's cause.
Simply a difference in caliber. Yuk Jin-il swallowed his awe and bowed.
He felt immense respect—cloud-like—for a senior just a year ahead, not particularly mature-looking.
He couldn't show it, though—pure embarrassment.
"...Senior Brother, do you have something specific you want from this forest?"
That respect softened his attitude, if slightly.
"Of course. I'm a greedy guy."
"...I'm not interested in worldly greed. So, I'll take this mutt and leave the forest on my way out."
Yuk Jin-il pulled a pair of twin stones from his bosom and handed them to Wi Seong-cheon.
"Use them, greedy senior."
He hadn't planned to hand over twin stones. But now, he felt no greed for treasure.
Better to exit the forest early, haul Gu Jeok-sa out, and review that quick, humiliating defeat.
'All in how you think.'
Even that sounded profound.
Wi Seong-cheon waved off Yuk Jin-il, who trudged away with Gu Jeok-sa slung over his shoulder, and grinned.
'What a windfall.'
Eight pairs of twin stones and one red stone in just two days.
Wi Seong-cheon felt confident in his solo run.