Chapter 718: Heavenly Dragon Martial Arts Tournament (26)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 718: Heavenly Dragon Martial Arts Tournament (26)
Whoosh—!
A dull roar echoed as the blade sliced through the air.
It might have been slower than a sword, but the pressure exerted by its sheer size and weight was like that of Mount Tai. Especially when the one wielding it was a master who had surpassed the Fusion Realm.
The blade’s weight, typically a burden, transformed into a lethal advantage as destructive power coiled around the steel.
KRRRUUUM—!!!
The Dao King’s blade slammed into the ground.
Crack—!
The reinforced floor fractured instantly, sending stone shards flying like shrapnel. Even a simple swing possessed immense destructive power.
But the assault didn't end there.
“Hoo!”
With a sharp, short breath, the Dao King’s body spun.
Black Blade Wind Forest.
With a half-turn, a thick torrent of Blade Aura erupted from his weapon.
KRA-KA-KA-KA-KAK—!!
The Blade Aura swept through the arena with overwhelming might. It was a jaw-dropping spectacle. As expected of a martial art focused on pure destruction, the power was truly immense, but…
“My god…!”
“What in the world…”
The audience seemed too stunned to even cheer. Were they all paralyzed by the Dao King’s power? No, that wasn't it.
Quite the opposite.
The spectators were staring at the Dao King’s opponent, their mouths agape in disbelief.
The Dao King’s opponent was the Dragon Warrior—a young prodigy known as a blood relative of the Xi'an Bi clan and the descendant of the Dishonored Venerable.
Normally, the crowd would have expected him to be defeated without even grazing the Dao King, let alone proving to be a match for him. Even if he was the descendant of the Dishonored Venerable, the gap in experience and realm should have been absolute.
This was the common consensus among all the spectators.
“The Dao King’s momentum is so fierce, and yet…”
“This is impossible.”
Everyone watched the scene unfolding before them as if trapped in a dream. And for good reason.
“He hasn't moved a single step? How is that possible?”
The arena was a ruin from the Dao King’s assault. But amidst the chaos, there was one spot that remained completely untouched: the place where the Dragon Warrior stood.
Since the duel began, the Dragon Warrior had not moved from his spot even once. He stood rooted to the ground, neutralizing every one of the Dao King’s attacks.
No. Could you even call it neutralizing?
‘He’s deflecting it.’
He wasn't just blocking; he was redirecting the flow. He parried the Dao King’s strikes, brushed aside the Blade Aura, and denied his opponent even the slightest opening. The only thing that had changed was that he had finally unclasped his hands from behind his back.
The Dragon Warrior was dismantling everything the Dao King threw at him—all while standing as still as a monolith.
‘…What a monstrous old man.’
Watching him, I let out a sharp breath. It was beyond admiration; all that remained was shock. Just watching was dumbfounding.
Could I have done that? I tried to look at it objectively.
‘Impossible.’
The answer came immediately. I couldn't. At least, not the current me. I might be able to dodge those strikes, but to do it while standing in one place? Absolutely not.
And yet the Dishonored Venerable, whose current realm was technically lower than mine, was doing it effortlessly.
‘He’s truly insane.’
I may have opened my Mind’s Eye as well, but… I can't do something like that. Even if you can predict the movements, deflecting them without moving your feet is another matter entirely.
Of course, it wasn't that he wasn't blocking at all. He blocked what needed to be blocked, but the Dishonored Venerable turned situations that required a hard block into ones that could be redirected with a touch.
“Grk!”
Combat Qi seeped into the Dao King’s blade. The Blade Aura grew massive. It seemed he intended to swing it directly in front of him to sweep everything away in a single blow.
Seeing this, the Dishonored Venerable moved. He extended a hand slightly, slipping it into a microscopic gap in the Combat Qi.
In that instant—
Thwack—!
“…!”
The trajectory of the Dao King’s blade shifted violently, and the Combat Qi grazed past the Dishonored Venerable’s head, hitting nothing but air.
Bewilderment washed over the crowd. They couldn't understand what had just happened. Had the Dao King made a mistake? Of course not. The Dishonored Venerable had simply altered the path of the strike.
‘How absurd.’
It sounds simple. But it was by no means a simple feat. With the Mind’s Eye, I could see it even more clearly.
The Dao King, as if to prove his worth, unleashed a heavy energy from which countless strands of internal Qi poured out—a power that could be fatal with the slightest touch. Into that chaotic flow, the Dishonored Venerable plunged his hand without hesitation, disrupting the Dao King’s movement in an instant.
He was overflowing with confidence. He would never fail. Without such absolute conviction, he could never perform such a feat. And to do it with both feet planted firmly on the ground?
‘And he told me to fight more cautiously.’
Who was he to talk, pulling off stunts like that? Even as I thought that, I couldn't look away.
‘Ha.’
Just a moment ago, I was thinking how damn boring this tournament was. Now, I had to strain my eyes to capture every single one of the Dishonored Venerable’s movements.
‘This old man… he’s doing this on purpose.’
I already knew his intentions. Even through his brief movements, he was showing me his purpose.
[Watch closely.]
It was as if he were showing me the path I must walk. That was the feeling I got from him. I wouldn't miss even a single breath.
As I watched the duel with that mindset—
-Watch carefully.
As if waiting for that exact moment, the Dishonored Venerable sent me a telepathic message.
-This happens to be a good teaching material.
Simultaneously with the message—
Shhk.
The Dishonored Venerable’s stationary feet finally moved.
One step.
Tap—.
The tip of his foot moved forward and touched the ground. In that instant—
Thwump—!
“…!!!”
The Dao King’s body suddenly shot into the air.
* * *
He was lucky.
That was what everyone said about Peng Jeowoo.
Born into the Peng Clan of Hebei, Peng Jeowoo was lucky. He was lucky to be born the son of the Clan Lord. He was also lucky that the current Lord, Peng Taewoo, loved his wife so dearly. He loved her so much that even though her weak constitution only allowed her to bear him one son, Peng Jeowoo, he never took a concubine.
Thanks to that, Jeowoo never had to fight for the position of Clan Lord—a bloody battle that raged between brothers in almost every other clan. His position as the Young Lord was secure from birth.
Seeing this, the elders and martial artists would whisper behind his back: He is lucky.
It sounded like a compliment, but Peng Jeowoo knew better. A position obtained through luck, not talent. He knew that was the implied meaning. He had heard it countless times.
As a child, Peng Jeowoo couldn't help but harbor resentment. Decades passed, buried under an inferiority complex. Eventually, the "lucky" Peng Jeowoo became the Clan Lord, just as expected. He inherited the title of Dao King, and although he was treated as the weakest among the Six Seats…
He was by no means weak enough to be defeated by some young prodigy.
Or so he had thought.
Kwoong—!
“Kuhk!”
Peng Jeowoo let out a groan as sharp pain pierced his body. Enduring it, he summoned his Combat Qi. His shattered protective aura reformed around his body, but—
Kwaduk—!
The barrier he had barely managed to manifest was instantly shattered again. However, this was expected. Sacrificing his Combat Qi, Peng Jeowoo spun his body, intending to use the recoil to continue his assault, but—
Thud—!
“…!!”
In an instant, his knee buckled, and his stance broke. A foot had appeared out of nowhere, pressing down on his joint with the weight of a mountain.
Thump—! Kukung—!
His lower body collapsed, leaving his upper body completely exposed. Two fists grazed past his guard.
First came the sound.
KUUUUUNG—!!
“Keoheok!”
Then came the searing pain. One blow to the chest. Another to the abdomen. The Dao King’s body twisted from the impact.
The attacks didn't stop. The leg pressing on his knee joint applied even more force. He tried to resist, but he couldn't stop his leg from bending. His lower body sank further, bringing his upper body closer to his opponent.
Paaak—!
His head snapped to the side.
Kwaang—!
A blow to the ribs sent a violent shudder through his entire frame. The pain was bone-chilling.
“Kkeueuk—!!”
Swallowing a groan, the Dao King tensed the tips of his toes. If he collapsed any further, recovery would be impossible. With that thought, he held on desperately. He shot a glare from his turned head.
The fists kept coming. Seeing them, the Dao King poured strength into his arm. Instantly, his blade turned a deep, obsidian black.
Black Steel.
One of the ultimate techniques of the Peng Clan of Hebei. Normally, he couldn't use this power in such a broken posture, but this was no time to be picky. He had to create distance from the Dragon Warrior, no matter what.
He swung his blade with that single, desperate thought, but—
“Tsk.”
Seeing this, the Dragon Warrior clicked his tongue. Was it because the situation was unexpected? No, his emotion was far too plain for that.
Disappointment.
That emotion was clearly visible in the Dragon Warrior’s eyes.
‘…What?’
How dare that young brat look at him with such eyes? Pent-up rage consumed the Dao King’s body. He wanted to slice him to pieces. He wanted to sever that pathetic little bastard’s head from his shoulders.
But—
Kwang—!
“…!”
His blade shuddered as if it had been struck by a falling star. The Dragon Warrior had struck the flat of the blade, twisting its angle.
Thwack.
The blade plunged deep into the ground. Peng Jeowoo tried to pull it out immediately, but—
Stomp—!
“Kuk!?”
The Dragon Warrior stomped on the back of the blade, pinning it to the earth. It wouldn't budge. He needed to apply more force, but the Dragon Warrior didn't wait. He kicked Peng Jeowoo hard in the chest.
Thwump—!
“Keoheok!”
Stunned, Peng Jeowoo let go of his blade and rolled across the ground. He somehow managed to right himself and steady his body, expecting another attack to follow, but…
“…?”
Nothing happened. The Dragon Warrior hadn't moved from where Peng Jeowoo’s blade was stuck.
Seeing this, Peng Jeowoo furrowed his brow.
“You fool,” the Dragon Warrior said.
“…What?”
Peng Jeowoo’s eyes widened. What? A fool? Was he talking to him? As Peng Jeowoo was about to let out a disbelieving laugh—
“The flow of Qi is completely distorted, and all you can manage is that pathetic struggle?” The Dragon Warrior continued, showing no signs of stopping. “Black Steel requires a high level of internal Qi application. Even the previous Clan Lord maintained a perfect stance to use it, yet a thing like you tries to change the form? How detestable for someone with neither the right nor the ability.”
“You bastard…!!”
Finally unable to hold back, Peng Jeowoo gritted his teeth and pushed himself up. “How dare you bring him up in front of me!”
Not only did he mention the previous Lord in front of the current one, but he also lectured the Dao King as if giving advice. This was not something a mere young prodigy should ever do.
“You bastard…! Your talent is surprising, I'll admit. But is a whelp like you trying to teach me, the Dao King?”
He said that, but it was beyond surprising. The boy had blocked every move, toying with him. The audience, who had been gasping in shock, was now completely silent.
The battle between the Heavenly Dragon and Seomwolgeom had been a storm of intense spectacles. But the duel between the Dragon Warrior and the Dao King had none of that. It was a crude duel—a battle of pure martial arts with no ultimate techniques in sight.
This wasn't because Peng Jeowoo couldn't use flashy martial arts. It was because the Dragon Warrior had shut down every possibility for him to do so.
‘How is that possible?’
Even as he fumed, Peng Jeowoo’s eyes trembled in shock. He was faster. He was far stronger. He knew that from their brief exchange. But he couldn't catch him. Not only that, he couldn't even touch him.
It was a truly bizarre sensation. Why was he being beaten by this brat?
As Peng Jeowoo’s pride crumbled and he struggled to keep his wits—
“Teach?” the Dragon Warrior asked. His voice was dripping with contempt. “Me, teach you?”
The corner of his mouth curled up in a clear sneer. “Why would I waste something so precious on the likes of you?”
“…!”
“Know your place. You are not worthy of my time.”
At those words, Peng Jeowoo nearly lost all reason. Just then, the Dragon Warrior grabbed Peng Jeowoo’s embedded blade and threw it.
Whoosh— Thunk—!
The blade flew swiftly and landed right next to Peng Jeowoo.
“Take it. A martial artist shouldn't let go of his beloved weapon.”
“Ha…!”
Seeing the blade appear beside him, Peng Jeowoo’s face flushed a deep crimson. “A bastard like you… dares to mock me?”
“Hmm.”
Peng Jeowoo ground his teeth. Watching him, the Dragon Warrior tilted his head.
‘Too late,’ he judged inwardly. ‘This one is a lost cause.’
Even after I've shown him this much, he still looks down on me. The rage inside him isn't cooling; it's burning hotter. That fire will only go out after Peng Jeowoo’s mind is completely incinerated. It meant he was already broken.
‘…My, my.’
A pity. But the pity wasn't for Peng Jeowoo.
‘And here I told my disciple this would be good teaching material.’
I thought he'd be better than this. Seeing him in this state was just disappointing.
‘Perhaps I've grown dull in my old age.’
Maybe that's why I was mistaken. I thought he'd be a more decent opponent, but he was far more pathetic. Perhaps even that young monk from Shaolin, the one they called the Heavenly Dragon, would have been better. This one might be more skilled, but something that has lost its value is nothing but trash.
To the Dishonored Venerable, Peng Jeowoo was just that.
‘Should I have held back more?’
To fail at controlling my strength after checking twice… I wonder what would have happened if I'd hit him a little softer.
Also—
-If you ever have the chance… I implore you, Senior, to look after my son just once.
The words of the former Peng Clan Lord, Peng Taewoo, came to mind, annoying him.
‘I'd forgotten about that.’
Normally, I wouldn't have even listened. I only kept it in mind because I had taken a liking to Peng Taewoo. No, I'd forgotten until now, so I can't even say I kept it in mind.
‘What a pain.’
He had no other thoughts on the matter. It wasn't something to feel sorry about. There was nothing he could do about that man's son being incompetent.
“Hmm.”
What to do? As Bi Eejin was pondering for a moment—
Grrrrrrrrr—!!
Peng Jeowoo grabbed his blade, pushed himself up, and began to draw out his energy. The blade was stained a deep, unnatural black. Using Black Steel, he created a dark haze around him.
“I'll kill you. I'll kill you.”
Killing intent dominated the arena. It was a truly vicious, unfiltered malice. No matter how incompetent, Peng Jeowoo was a martial artist ranked among the top of the Hundred Masters. As he gathered his killing intent and internal Qi, the vibrations grew infinitely dense.
It was obviously a dangerous state. The Dishonored Venerable simply watched him. In fact, he even thought it was a good thing.
‘I needed to show him something. This works out well.’
If I did nothing, he might get suspicious. This should be fine.
‘To think that the great Bi Eejin would be worried about what someone else thinks.’
And his own disciple, no less. It was a strange feeling. Not bad, but… unexpected. This, too, was a feeling that arose because his disciple was that valuable.
Shhk.
The Dishonored Venerable spread his hands slightly and held them out in front of him. It was a gesture as if he were holding an invisible ball.
As the Dishonored Venerable made that motion—
Rumble….
A slight wind began to stir from beneath his feet. His hair fluttered as energy began to gather in his hands.
Seeing this, Peng Jeowoo, who seemed to have finished his preparations, was breathing heavily. Peng Jeowoo’s blade had already surpassed Black Steel, forming a Blade Aura of immense size.
Great Black Steel Silent Steel.
An ultimate technique of the Peng Clan passed down for centuries. It was a martial art that could annihilate not only the opponent but also the surroundings with a highly compressed Blade Aura. Peng Jeowoo gathered all his internal Qi with the sole intention of erasing the Dragon Warrior.
A power filled with the Dao King’s energy. Those watching trembled at its overwhelming presence. They knew instinctively how dangerous that attack was.
“Hh… Haaah…!”
Peng Jeowoo’s breathing grew ragged, as if it were difficult to even withstand his own energy. Soon, with a trembling hand, he began to swing his blade.
Shwiiiiiiiiing.
A calamity cut through the air. As the Combat Qi grazed the air, it hissed—Chiiik!—and smoke erupted. The compressed internal Qi couldn't contain its own power and was erupting outward.
It poured down. It looked as if a pillar of darkness were falling upon the Dragon Warrior.
Yet, the Dragon Warrior’s expression showed not a hint of fear. He was focused solely on completing the sphere. And by the time it was complete—
“There.”
He smiled in satisfaction, looking at the gray sphere in his hand.
Just then, Peng Jeowoo’s attack was already right in front of him. Just before the Blade Aura fell upon the crown of his head, the Dragon Warrior crushed the sphere as if lightly clapping his hands.
Clap!
Heaven Destruction Art.
Fifth Form.
Destruction of the Heavens.
KWAGAGAGAGAGAK—!!!
At the Dishonored Venerable’s clap, the heavens collapsed.