The Frozen Fist
Heo Cho-ryeong shot Hwa Do-reung a look of pure contempt and spoke with icy disdain.
“You vulgar wretch. Did you truly think I would bend to the will of a man as graceless as you?”
Drawing the sword at her waist, she shouted toward Ouyang Qiangang.
“Gang-je, this place is dangerous—get out of here now! I'll handle this one!”
“The young mistress, defeating me? Do you really believe that's possible?”
Hwa Do-reung stepped forward with a sneer, raising his saber. He had every confidence in his martial arts.
He was a first-rate martial artist who had spent over a decade honing his saber technique under the brutal discipline of the Coiled Dragon Saber Sect, a renowned school of the Murim in Hubei Province.
But Heo Cho-ryeong took no less pride in her clan's secret Flying Swallow Sword Art, and her attainment was nothing to scoff at either.
Without any need to decide who would strike first, the two of them lunged at each other.
Clang!
Ching!
The heavy saber and the ringing sword collided savagely in the dark alley.
Their footwork and blade movements were blindingly fast, a dazzling blur of steel.
By all rights, Ouyang Qiangang—weak in the martial arts as he was—should not have been able to follow their movements at all.
And yet, right now, he saw everything with perfect clarity.
Akasha was intervening directly in his brain and optic nerves, accelerating his cognition to the extreme.
To his eyes, the duel between the two unfolded at more than ten times its normal speed, like an intricately choreographed dance.
The Coiled Dragon Saber Art leans on raw power, while the Flying Swallow Sword Art favors variation and deception.
Though he could not wield such techniques himself, he had studied transcendent-grade arts like the Whirlwind Chain Spear alongside Akasha.
Discerning the strengths and weaknesses of techniques several tiers below those was hardly a difficult task.
Their martial attainments are similar, but Hwa Do-reung holds a slight edge in internal energy. No doubt thanks to the elixirs his merchant-clan fortune has fed him.
Just as he had analyzed, some ten seconds later Heo Cho-ryeong began to be pressed slowly onto the defensive.
Frowning, Ouyang Qiangang shouted.
“Two inches above right!”
Heo Cho-ryeong, absorbed in the fight, did not heed his words at first.
She had no idea what he meant.
But she soon realized that the cry of “Two inches above right!” matched exactly the minute flaw in the saber technique she had instinctively sensed as she deflected Hwa Do-reung's attack.
How could he……!
“Half an inch below left!”
From his second shout onward, her body reacted before her mind could.
Her sword soared like a single swallow in flight, driving into the point half an inch below Hwa Do-reung's left side.
Startled at having his guard pierced, Hwa Do-reung hastily withdrew his saber to defend—and Ouyang Qiangang's commands kept coming, as if he had been waiting for exactly that.
Heo Cho-ryeong moved her sword as he directed, and within three seconds Hwa Do-reung felt his own forms descend into complete disarray.
One perilous moment after another followed, each nearly costing him an arm or his head.
“You little……!”
Hwa Do-reung quickly realized that the cause of all this was Ouyang Qiangang, and he roared at his watching underlings.
“Kill that one first!”
At his words, the ten men who had been leaning on their knees watching the fight surged toward Ouyang Qiangang, radiating killing intent.
Ouyang Qiangang's heart plummeted, and his body froze for an instant.
This was real killing intent—something he had never experienced back on Earth, where the heaviest thing he'd ever lifted at the gym was a five-kilogram dumbbell.
For a man with no experience of even a simple fistfight, shrugging off the thick, palpable bloodlust before him was impossible.
Then Akasha's voice echoed through his mind.
> Doctor, your sympathetic nervous system is hyperactive and physical rigidity has been detected. Initiating emergency psychological stabilization protocol. I will regulate neurotransmitter secretion to forcibly suppress the fear response and activate the prefrontal cortex to induce the Unmoving Mind state.
At the same moment, Ouyang Qiangang felt the fear that had been crushing his heart vanish as if it had been a lie, and the world slowed down once more.
His eyes, now gleaming with an ice-cold calm, turned toward Heo Cho-ryeong.
He could not abandon her and flee alone.
Which meant that, by any means necessary, he had to bring down all of them and come to her aid.
> Doctor, your current internal energy amounts to only about three years' worth, so no martial techniques are available to you.
Akasha, you really are a capital-T Tsundere.
> This is not the time for jokes.
Then at least tell me what you've assessed about those men.
> Judging by their saber stances, all of them are presumed to have studied Hwa Do-reung's Coiled Dragon Saber Art. However, they learned it only superficially, and their attainment is crude. Moreover, that saber art's emphasis on raw power leaves many openings. The optimal strategy is to strike their guards and incapacitate them as quickly as possible.
The saber-wielding men were nameless hoodlums of Nanchang, taken in by Hwa Do-reung and taught his saber art, however clumsily.
Seeing Ouyang Qiangang's sickly appearance, they had let their guard down.
They were confident that a single swing of their blades would be enough to take his life.
“Die!”
The first man to charge screamed savagely and hacked down toward the crown of his head.
Akasha continued.
> Considering your remaining internal energy and physical condition, the maximum combat time sustainable by the Transcendent Formless Divine Art is two minutes. If you cannot defeat the enemy within that window, you will be in danger, Doctor.
Two minutes……
It was by no means a long time.
He would have to take down his opponent in a single strike, along the optimal path that minimized energy expenditure.
Even in that instant, the man's blade was falling toward his head.
Shiiik—
But to Ouyang Qiangang's accelerated eyes, the trajectory of the man's blade crawled along as slowly as a caterpillar inching forward.
Without any unnecessary evasion, he twisted only his upper body in the smallest possible motion to slip past the blade—and took a long, deliberate step forward.
Narrowing the distance as though leaping into the man's very arms, he swung his fist.
Whiik—
Ouyang Qiangang's fist was blindingly fast and powerful, impossible to believe it belonged to a sickly young man.
Though his lack of internal energy prevented him from unleashing proper techniques, his fist carried the essence of the Whirlwind Chain Spear.
It was not a move some common thug could hope to evade.
Thud!
With a dull impact, his fist struck the man's heart with perfect precision.
The man could not even scream.
White frost blooming across his chest, he stared with unbelieving eyes stretched wide.
Then, his lips turning a deep purple, he collapsed like a block of wood.
Crash—
The Pure Yin True Qi of the Transcendent Formless Divine Art—an art that had refined the Supreme Yin energy of his Nine Yin Severed Meridians in reverse—had delivered a devastating blow to the man's heart.
“Wh-what the—!”
Shock spread across the faces of the remaining thugs at the sight.
One of them shouted.
“Careful! That bastard knows martial arts too!”
In their eyes, Ouyang Qiangang was no longer a frail scholar.
“Kill him!”
As if to shake off their fear, two of the men attacked in a coordinated pincer from either side.
Shff, shff—
Ouyang Qiangang did not move.
The three-dimensional spatial analysis data Akasha projected painted itself perfectly across his mind.
His body moved as if measured with a ruler, matching Akasha's words without a hair's deviation.
The two blades grazed the hem of his robe and sliced through empty air.
In the instant they crossed, both of Ouyang Qiangang's hands shot out like lightning, mercilessly driving into the flanks of the two men.
Thud! Thud!
“Ugh!”
“Kehk!”
Feeling an awl-sharp cold burrow into their bodies, the two men groaned and crumpled where they stood.
Paralyzed by the frigid energy, they could no longer move.
Fear was written plainly across the faces of the remaining seven.
They exchanged glances, unable to commit to an attack.
Ouyang Qiangang did not let that moment slip away.
Rather than wait, he sprang forward and charged straight into the group facing him.
His movements were unremarkable to look at, yet ruthlessly, almost viciously efficient.
One man with every step.
With the minimum of motion he slipped into each opponent's blind angle, striking their vital points with unerring precision using fists and palms charged with Pure Yin True Qi.
He used no peculiar techniques, nor was his speed remarkable—yet inexplicably, the men could not evade his hands.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
One by one, those felled by his single strikes collapsed—some with hearts frozen solid, others with their meridians sealed shut.
Even a scream was a luxury.
White frost blossomed across their bodies, and before anyone noticed, the alley was filled with a terrifying chill.
The moment the last remaining man turned his back to flee in terror,
Ouyang Qiangang, who had closed the distance before anyone realized, laid his cold palm quietly against the nape of the man's neck.
“Hhk……!”
Crash.
As the last man fell, a chilling silence settled over the alley.
The ten men lay sprawled across the ground in bizarre, frozen postures, like ice sculptures on a winter's day.
They were not dead—but their meridians had been sealed by Ouyang Qiangang's Pure Yin True Qi, their entire bodies paralyzed, leaving them unconscious.
Even if they woke, it would take a considerable period of rest to purge the cold that had seeped into their bodies.
“Hoo… hoo……”
Halting his movements, Ouyang Qiangang gasped for breath.
Every cell in his body was screaming that the two minutes Akasha had warned of were nearly up.
His legs wobbled as though he might collapse at any moment, but he held his back straight, refusing to show weakness.
Then he turned his head toward where Heo Cho-ryeong and Hwa Do-reung stood.
Their fight had already stopped.
Saber still in hand, Hwa Do-reung stared with a face frozen like stone, his gaze darting between his fallen men and Ouyang Qiangang.
In his eyes dwelt something more primal than anger—fear of a being he could not comprehend.
Every time white frost bloomed from the sickly scholar's fist, grown men had dropped like autumn leaves.
Never once in his life had he witnessed such a sight.
He asked, his voice trembling.
“Who… who are you?”
Having caught his breath, Ouyang Qiangang answered in a cold tone.
“What would knowing get you? If you don't want to end up like those men, get lost. Now.”
Hwa Do-reung clenched his teeth.
This was already the second unbearable humiliation, following the affair at the Azure Cloud Guesthouse. And yet once again, he could not unleash his fury.
The memory of Ouyang Qiangang's frigid eyes and of his men collapsing helplessly before those frost-laden fists sent shivers crawling over his whole body.
He did not have the confidence to face the boyish master (apparently only pretending to be sickly?) and Heo Cho-ryeong alone.
“As long as the green hills stand, there's no lack of firewood. Heo Cho-ryeong—and you! I will repay today's disgrace. I swear it, I swear I will!”
Shouting through gritted teeth, Hwa Do-reung abandoned his unconscious men and fled the alley on light-footwork.
He spoke of green hills, but it was a humiliating flight all the same.
Watching his retreating back, Ouyang Qiangang muttered.
“Trash.”
Once Hwa Do-reung was gone, Heo Cho-ryeong approached Ouyang Qiangang with an expression of utter disbelief.
There was no more pity or sympathy in her eyes.
In their place dwelt astonishment, confusion, and even a faint trace of awe.
The sickly younger brother she had believed she needed to protect mere moments ago had, in the blink of an eye, become a monster who had felled ten thugs.
“Gang-je… h-how is this possible? You suffer from the Nine Yin Severed Meridians—you weren't supposed to be able to learn martial arts at all.”
Ouyang Qiangang gave a wry smile at her stunned face.
Straining to hide the way his exhausted body swayed, he answered.
“There are circumstances I find difficult to explain. Please understand, my lady.”
Heo Cho-ryeong had a hundred more questions, but seeing his pale face, his near-collapse fragility, and the resolve in his eyes, she held her tongue.
Now was not the time to press him.
“All right. I won't ask now. But… thank you, Gang-je. It would have been dangerous without you.”
“My lady, we must leave this place first. Those men may wake at any moment.”
“Yes.”
Heo Cho-ryeong nodded and carefully took the arm of the swaying Ouyang Qiangang to steady him.
The two of them hurried out of the dark alley as though nothing had happened.