Chapter 723: Heavenly Dragon Martial Arts Tournament (31)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 723: Heavenly Dragon Martial Arts Tournament (31)
Woong—!
I circulated my qi to check my condition.
The energy traced my meridians once, then twice, before settling back into my heart. That single cycle was enough to assess the damage.
‘A few internal injuries and a crack in my shoulder.’
It seemed I’d sustained the internal damage while sealing her martial arts. As for my shoulder, it had cracked when she struck me during my feint. I’d managed to buffer the blow with Combat Qi, which was the only reason it wasn't worse. Had I failed to defend, my shoulder would have been shattered.
‘Is that all?’
I hadn’t even expended a quarter of my internal qi, and the fracture would knit itself back together by the end of the day. The internal injuries would heal just as quickly.
This was the extent of it—the kind of minor aches and pains one might expect from a particularly rough training session.
‘Is this really it?’
Was this the only mark left on my body after crushing one of the Ten Masters of the Central Plains?
I clenched and unclenched my fist, staring straight ahead.
“Cough!”
The old woman, the Pink Moon Fist Immortal, lay collapsed on the ground, coughing up blood. It was dark, stagnant blood—not a sign of a fatal wound, but a side effect of me roughly stabilizing her internal injuries.
“I’ve patched you up enough that you won't die,” I said.
Her internals were a chaotic mess from the fight. With her qi completely haywire and her body reeling from the trauma, she would have perished if left alone. So, I had taken measures.
“Haa... haa...”
The Fist Immortal struggled to catch her breath. I watched her, giving a slight, contemplative nod as I recalled the duel.
To be honest, there wasn't much to recall.
‘Bland.’
Boring. That was the only word that came to mind.
‘What was that?’
I felt a wave of genuine disappointment. Was it because I was comparing this to my life-or-death struggle with the Dishonored Venerable? There had been absolutely no sense of desperation in this fight.
‘Was she careless?’
Could a member of the Ten Masters truly lose simply because she let her guard down? I considered the possibility for a moment before dismissing it.
‘No. I made sure that wouldn't happen.’
I had planned the opening moves specifically to make her wary. I’d shattered her sound barrier and revealed a significant portion of my power right from the start. No matter how senile the Fist Immortal might be, she couldn't have failed to realize the threat after I’d shown her that much.
‘And if she still didn't get it, she deserved to die.’
If the Sect Leader of the Emei Sect was so oblivious that she could remain careless after that display, she might as well hand over her position and crawl into a grave.
The Fist Immortal had not been careless. Or rather, even if she had been, it wasn't to a degree that justified such a pathetic defeat.
Then what was it?
‘Am I really that strong?’
Have I truly reached such a level? I looked down at my fist.
‘I expected to win.’
I always made an effort to judge my own strength objectively. I needed to know my exact limits so they wouldn't interfere with my plans. Therefore, I never doubted I would win against the Fist Immortal. I knew I could beat someone of her caliber, but...
‘...I didn't expect it to be this easy.’
The ease of the victory was jarring. It felt wrong.
‘She shouldn't be this weak.’
I am strong. I am by no means a weakling. I might not be able to gauge the Celestial Plum Blossom or the Sword Emperor—who are said to rival the Three Venerables—but I wouldn't lose to most of the Ten Masters.
However, I shouldn't be able to win this effortlessly.
‘I was prepared to use the Holy Spear, even if I held back Dragon’s Word or Demonic Qi.’
To think the fight ended with nothing more than a few flames and Solar Light. Something was very, very wrong.
I walked over to the Fist Immortal and knelt on one knee. Catching her gaze, I asked a single question.
“Sect Leader. Why are you so weak?”
“...!”
I didn't beat around the bush. The Fist Immortal’s face contorted.
“...Are you trying to... humiliate me?”
“No. I knew I would win regardless. I’m not being sarcastic; I’m genuinely curious.”
At my arrogant tone, the Fist Immortal flashed a bitter, hollow smile.
“...I’m the one who’s curious.”
Drip.
Wiping the black blood from her chin, she stared at me.
“How... how did you reach the realm of the mind?”
The realm of the mind—the ultimate domain that all martial artists aspire to. It wasn't a mere rank like First-Rate, Peak, or Fusion; it was the stage where a lifetime of enlightenment finally gave one's will a tangible, physical form.
The Fist Immortal’s eyes were wide with shock as she looked at me.
‘Hmm.’
There was a reason for her reaction. The technique she had tried to use at the very end hadn't just utilized internal qi; it was infused with the power of her mind. To seal it, I’d had to counter with my own mental energy. She must have felt it.
As for how I reached it...
“I just lived tenaciously, and it happened.”
“...”
Naturally, she didn't look like she believed me. I hadn't expected her to.
After a heavy silence, the Fist Immortal spoke again, her voice laced with suspicion.
“Perhaps... you’ve achieved eternal youth through some forbidden art...”
“I haven't done anything so idiotic,” I snapped, shutting down her useless theorizing. “Sometimes, unbelievable things just happen in life, don't they?”
I had no intention of offering excuses or justifications. It didn't matter if she believed me or not; she wasn't in a position to demand answers.
“Just answer my question, Sect Leader,” I said, locking eyes with her. “Why are you so weak?”
“...”
“I’m not mocking you. I’m genuinely curious.”
As I’d thought, I had a good grasp of my own level. I could beat most of the Ten Masters.
‘But I’d still lose to the Three Venerables or those just below them.’
The Dishonored Venerable was an anomaly, so I excluded him. Based on what I’d seen of the Heavenly Venerable, I’d likely lose within twenty exchanges. As for the Sword Venerable, it would probably be even faster. That was my objective standing.
So, what about the Fist Immortal?
‘When I saw her earlier, she felt like she was on the same level as the Sword Emperor.’
Her presence and momentum suggested as much. I had gone into the fight expecting that level of resistance.
‘But this...’
To be honest, she seemed barely stronger than the Heavenly Dragon that Wi Seol-Ah had fought.
‘At this rate, if she fought Tang Soyeol at night, she might actually lose.’
Under the right conditions, an assassin like Tang Soyeol could take her down. The power the Fist Immortal displayed was far too pathetic for one of the Ten Masters.
“It doesn't seem to be an internal injury,” I continued. “And while your body might be aging, that shouldn't cripple your qi to this extent. What on earth is the problem? Your qi wasn't circulating properly. Is there some other issue?”
“...”
The wrinkles on her brow deepened. Did she still think I was mocking her?
‘Wait. Does she really not know?’
The Fist Immortal just frowned, looking as though she were genuinely confused by my assessment.
‘She’s in this state and she doesn't even realize it?’
I tapped my forearm with my fingers. A sudden realization flashed through my mind regarding this bizarre situation.
“Ah. I see.” I let out a breath and chuckled.
“What is it...? Why are you laughing?”
“It’s nothing. I just feel a little sorry for you.”
“What?”
She questioned me, but I had no intention of explaining.
‘So that’s what it was.’
I think I understood now. It was so obvious there was no need to dig deeper. I’d just have to figure out later if this had anything to do with the Alliance.
With that, I organized my thoughts.
“Anyway, I won, so let’s stick to our bet.”
The Fist Immortal glared at me with murderous intent. I ignored it.
“What is your objective? Why are you seeking Pi Yeonyeon? Is it for a treasure? Or for the girl herself?”
At my casual tone, she let out a hollow laugh.
“...You don't seem to think defeating me was a significant feat at all.”
“That’s because it wasn't. Should I be excited? As if I’ve beaten someone amazing?”
“...”
“I’m not impressed in the slightest, so just answer the question.”
Cough.
Splat.
More blood dripped from her mouth, staining her fine white uniform. She looked pathetic, but my expression remained cold.
“What if... I refuse to answer...?”
“The seal I placed on you isn't some half-baked trick. If you think you can handle the backlash of breaking it, be my guest. But even if you could...” My heart turned to ice. “There are plenty of ways to make you talk. Most of them aren't peaceful.”
Try me if you’re curious. My intent was clear, and her eyes wavered.
“...You’re serious... You really intend to torture me.”
“If necessary.”
“Are you... truly a member of the Orthodox Faction...?”
Haha.
I laughed at the absurdity. “I hear that often. Isn't that a ridiculous thing to say?”
“What is?”
“The days when you could be proud of being ‘Orthodox’ are long gone. The roots you claim to have are mostly rotten, yet you still cling to that pathetic honor?”
“...”
What did it matter if I was Orthodox or not? In my eyes, the Unorthodox and Orthodox Factions were two sides of the same coin. If there was any difference to me...
‘...it’s that I’d kill the Unorthodox on sight, while I might actually try to talk to the Orthodox.’
Of course, even then, most of them ended up dead.
“If we’re discussing affiliations, then yes, I am currently Orthodox. My father is an Orthodox man, after all. However,” I said, lifting her chin with my fingers, “that isn't very important to me. If I had to define it, it’s just a name tag. One I can tear off whenever I feel like it.”
That was all the Orthodox Faction meant to me.
“So. Forget about all this ‘Orthodox’ nonsense and speak clearly. That was our agreement, wasn't it?”
I shifted my fingers from her chin toward her throat, a silent threat.
“Pi Yeonyeon. What is her connection to the Emei Sect?”
I began to count to five in my head. Just as I reached four—
“...Pi Yeonyeon. It is a matter related to the child’s mother.”
I stopped the pressure I was about to apply.
“Her mother? Who is she? Are you talking about Lady Mok?”
I feigned ignorance. Lady Mok was the matriarch of the Pi Clan of Xi'an. The Fist Immortal looked at me with a strange expression. Did she realize I was testing her? I simply smiled back.
She flinched. “...No. The child’s mother... is not the person you mentioned.”
“Then who?”
“That child is...” She hesitated for a moment before continuing. “...The bloodline of the previous Sword Queen.”
“W-What did you say? Gasp. Such a shocking truth...!”
“...As I thought. You already knew.”
“I was just trying to give you a reaction. Why are you so sure?”
My acting felt perfect... why was she reacting like that? It was annoying.
‘Well, it’s fine. I wasn't planning on hiding it anyway.’
“...Does that mean you sponsored the child while knowing her identity?” she asked.
“Sorry, but I’m not the one taking questions.” I cut her off. As I’d stated, only I was allowed to ask. “I don't care if Pi Yeonyeon is the Sword Queen’s bloodline or not. That’s not the background I’m asking about.”
“...”
“What is the Emei Sect’s reason for seeking her? That’s all I want to know.”
As my voice grew irritated, her answer shifted.
“...Because the Sword Queen was originally a member of the Emei Sect.”
“Oh?”
Now that was interesting.
‘The Sword Queen was from Emei?’
This was the kind of information I was looking for. If true, it was something I hadn't known.
‘I was certain the previous Sword Queen was unaffiliated.’
History recorded her as a martial artist with no background—neither born into a clan nor a disciple of a sect.
‘But how did that stay hidden?’
No matter how distinct Emei’s martial arts were, some traces should have remained. It wasn't impossible to erase them—the Sword Demon of my past life had completely scrubbed his Kunlun habits—but that was a rare case.
‘In his case, his killing intent had completely consumed his internal qi. The Heavenly Killing Star devoured the calm energy of the Taoist arts, making them unrecognizable. It’s an unknown factor for now.’
I set that aside and focused on the more pressing issue.
“If that’s why the Emei Sect is looking for Pi Yeonyeon, it’s a bit strange.”
Fine. Let’s assume she was from Emei.
“So why are you looking for her now? The important part is missing. So what if she was from your sect? She lived as an unaffiliated martial artist, which means she either hid her past or left the sect entirely. It’s strange for Emei to be desperately searching for the daughter of such a person, isn't it?”
There had to be another reason. Searching for her just for the sake of lineage made no sense.
The Fist Immortal replied, “Do you... know what happened to the Sword Queen?”
“Roughly.”
That was a lie. I didn't know "roughly"—I knew exactly what happened. I’d gathered a mountain of information to use Bongsun effectively.
The end of the Sword Queen was a story I knew well. She was a woman of the Orthodox Faction who had once been worshipped as a hero. But her end was more pathetic than anything.
‘The Sword Queen’s conspiracy was revealed, and she was branded as Unorthodox and executed.’
The woman who was the dream of every heroine was suddenly accused of plotting to swallow the Central Plains. She had supposedly gathered members of the Unorthodox Faction to form a secret legion behind the Murim Alliance’s back, leading to the outbreak of the Orthodox-Demonic War.
The story of how the current Sword Queen, Plum Blossom Sword Queen Soi, and the White Ripple Sword, Moyong Biyeon, confronted her is still legendary. The war was short—lasting less than two months—and ended with the victory of the Orthodox Faction. The previous Sword Queen was captured and executed by the Alliance.
A hero turned traitor. That was the history the world remembered.
However...
‘That’s not the whole story.’
The truth was far darker. If that pathetic history was all there was to it, I wouldn't have bothered with Bongsun.
It seemed the Fist Immortal knew this as well.
“...The truth is not what the world believes,” she said. “In reality, the Sword Queen never tried to start a war. She wasn't someone who deserved to be branded as Unorthodox.”
“Is that so?”
“...There is clearly something hidden about that matter.”
I couldn't tell if she was feigning ignorance of the details or if she truly only had a vague idea. But she knew enough.
“So you’re saying she was framed.”
“...You.” The Fist Immortal’s expression shifted. “Perhaps... you knew this as well...!”
“Perhaps your memory is failing you. As I said, Sect Leader, you don't have the right to ask questions.” I moved closer. “But so what? What is Emei’s reason for seeking Pi Yeonyeon?”
I’d heard the background. Now I wanted the motive.
She answered urgently, “...It’s only natural. Even if she isn't one now, the Sword Queen was from Emei. We must clear her name.”
“And you’re looking for Pi Yeonyeon for that?”
“That’s right.”
“Why? Her existence won't change anything.”
“...Because if we can prove the child is the Sword Queen’s bloodline, there is a way.”
“Ah. I see...”
If they could prove Bongsun was the daughter of the previous Sword Queen, they could reopen the case. I nodded. It almost made sense.
After hearing her out, I smiled thinly.
“Well now.”
“You—?”
Grab.
“...!”
“Do you think I’m a pushover just because I was listening quietly?”
I clamped my hand over the Fist Immortal’s mouth. She struggled in shock, but I overpowered her with sheer strength.
“If you’re going to play tricks, at least do it subtly. You’re starting to piss me off.”
“Mmph... ggh!”
Her eyes went wide as saucers. I applied enough pressure to make breathing difficult, and her complexion rapidly darkened.
The reason for my sudden shift was simple. A specific thought had been bubbling up as I listened to her "noble" explanation.
I looked at the terrified woman and said, “Do you take me for an idiot? You people were the ones who framed the Sword Queen in the first place. Why leave that part out?”
“...!”
The Fist Immortal’s body went rigid. Her muffled groans stopped instantly.
Seeing her reaction, I knew.
“Haha. Fucking hell, I was right.”
It was the correct answer.