Chapter 128
Chapter 128
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 128
Chapter Title: Blade Yield and Overreach
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The bloody clash between Lion Fang Pavilion and Demon Beast Sect in the opening match had been far too intense.
After that, a few others stepped up for battles, but they failed to stir much interest among Hyeok Mulin or the other high-ranking demons.
Still, there had been one noteworthy fight: the duel between a man claiming his martial arts had been stolen and the one denying it.
"That bastard over there was my disciple! He stole our sect's poison arts and ran off!"
The middle-aged man, whose white hair peeked through amid otherwise dark locks—not quite an elder yet—pointed at his opponent and declared him his former disciple, who had pilfered their poison sect's martial arts right before being expelled.
He fumed even more, ranting that the thief had founded a new sect less than thirty zhang away based on those stolen techniques.
But the man facing him merely tapped his shoulder with his sword, snorted dismissively, and rejected the claim.
"Hmph, what nonsense. This is a new art I created myself. Just because I taught you some half-baked techniques back then, don't flatter yourself too much."
"What?! You insolent punk...!"
The relationship between the former master and disciple had deteriorated to the point where no words could mend it.
And regardless of their history, once they stepped onto the arena, talk was unnecessary.
It was time to settle things with blades, not words.
Their fierce battle ensued, and the outcome came swiftly.
"Guh...!"
The master, weakened by age, couldn't overcome his grown disciple.
In the blink of an eye, the man severed the middle-aged man's wrist.
As the sword and hand flew off together, the middle-aged man collapsed in place, admitting defeat.
The man looked down at him with cold eyes and spat out a sneer.
"For old times' sake, since you learned from me once, I left you the hand you eat with. So don't let me see your face again."
Despite the insult hurled right in his face, the middle-aged man could only descend from the arena in silence.
Watching the scene, Hyeok Mulin chuckled lightly.
The true creator of that martial art is clearly the master.
Superhuman experts like Hyeok Mulin would have noticed it immediately.
The man's techniques differed slightly from the middle-aged man's, but the core framework was identical.
Thus, it was obvious the disciple had stolen the arts, just as the master claimed.
But what could be done about the injustice?
This was the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, and this was the Demon Path Martial God Tournament.
If he wanted his claims to hold weight, he should have won the duel.
The result was victory for the martial art thief, and the loser had no right to speak further.
Only the strong write history.
That was the law of the jungle.
"It was entertaining up to that point. But now it's getting a bit dull."
Hyeok Mulin murmured dryly, gazing down at the arena.
Two warriors were locked in a fierce brawl, but from his perspective, both sides were riddled with openings.
"Since it's the first day, the real powerhouses are probably holding back and watching. The level of the duels will rise as time goes on."
Ji Wolhon was right.
It was only the first day, so this was to be expected.
The Demon Path Martial God Tournament lasted a full seven days and nights, drawing ever greater attention with each passing day. Naturally, the widely acknowledged masters would likely appear later.
Hyeok Mulin knew this full well.
But the exceptional opener between Lion Fang Pavilion and Demon Beast Sect had set the bar too high, making it hard to stay engaged with the current matches.
"I'll watch one more duel."
He felt he'd seen enough of the tournament's first day.
Among the Seven Great Demon Clans' patriarchs present, several had already left. The rest were yawning or frowning in boredom.
If the next match dragged on like this, Hyeok Mulin planned to head out as well.
Who will step up?
Before the judge Seok Mae could call for the next challenger, Hyeok Mulin casually scanned the stands.
That's when he noticed tension rippling through the Man Clan section.
At its center sat Clan Patriarch Man Ho, exuding an aura as intimidating as a mountain tiger, the king of the wilds.
He was a full head taller than those around him even while seated, his massive frame as broad as two grown men combined.
"This is tedious."
Man Ho's flat mutter sent an unspoken wave of tension through his clan's warriors.
Keeping his gaze fixed forward, he moved his lips.
"Man-gyun."
"Yes, Patriarch!"
A man stepped forward and bowed at Man Ho's call.
He was the vice commander of the Black Lord Saber Demon Squad, the Man Clan's scouting unit.
"You go."
"Yes, sir!"
Man-gyun leaped straight down to the arena at the order.
Unable to endure the boredom any longer, Man Ho had sent one of his clan's warriors.
Hyeok Mulin smirked, as if he'd seen it coming.
Despite the patriarch's bored expression, he'd lingered in the arena, hinting at some change on the horizon.
"Finally, someone worth watching."
Man-gyun, a collateral branch member of the Man Clan, had once served as an instructor and even founded a small sect, showcasing his deep martial insight.
He was also the first from the Seven Great Demon Clans to enter this Demon Path Martial God Tournament.
How often did one get to casually watch warriors from the Seven Great Demon Clans fight?
As Seok Mae announced him, the crowd cheered, their anticipation soaring.
"Fear Demon Blade Man-gyun! The vice commander of the Black Lord Saber Demon Squad has entered the Martial God Tournament!"
"Ooooh!"
"Who will be the one to face him?!"
Seok Mae, thrilled by this surprise amid the string of mediocre bouts—like a timely gift—shouted loudly.
"Anyone wishing to duel Fear Demon Blade Man-gyun, come down now!"
Demons throughout the stands rose, signaling their intent.
On the first day, no better opponent could be asked for.
A Seven Great Demon Clans member had stepped up voluntarily, perfectly embodying the tournament's spirit of challenging the strong.
Moreover, Man Ho was known for his straightforward nature—no grudges over mere duel outcomes, no retaliation.
Of course, since these were life-or-death matches, one needed confidence in their own skills to step up.
Thud.
Thump.
As many began moving to descend...
Thud—
A middle-aged man had already landed on the arena.
His long, disheveled hair and thick beard covering his jaw gave him a wild look.
He wore stiff, heavy hemp robes, resembling a beggar slumped on the street at first glance.
He walked slowly to the center, locking eyes with Man-gyun ahead.
"Damn, one step too late."
"He was the best matchup on the first day."
"But who's that guy?"
With Man-gyun's opponent already appeared, the latecomers clicked their tongues in regret.
"Who are you?"
Seok Mae asked him.
Confident he knew every notable demon from the cult, Seok Mae couldn't place this middle-aged man.
His beard and hair were too tangled to even make out his face properly.
After a moment, a response came.
"My name is Jeok Mu-gun. No particular moniker, but back home, they call me the Solution Man."
"Solution Man...?"
"This fight's a bust."
The onlookers sighed at the middle-aged man's words.
A no-name nobody without even a moniker, with his shabby appearance, daring to face a Man Clan vice commander?
"Do you know this duel is to the death?"
"Of course."
"Very well. Then let the duel begin."
Seok Mae double-checked just in case, but Jeok Mu-gun's resolve was clear.
The outcome seemed obvious, but what could be done now?
Seok Mae quickly positioned them in the center to start.
Man-gyun walked forward with a sigh.
I came on the patriarch's orders and had some hopes, but...
In the end, some nobody had shown up.
Clearly, a middle-aged warrior clueless about the world's vastness had stepped up from his backwater home to boost his name a bit.
I'll end this quick.
p>Worried about failing the patriarch's expectations, Man-gyun decided to finish swiftly and take on the next foe.
Swish—
Drawing his saber, Man-gyun spoke to Jeok Mu-gun.
"Don't beg for mercy."
You chose me in a life-or-death duel.
Tat-tat-tak!
As Seok Mae signaled the start, Man-gyun charged straight ahead.
He planned to behead him swiftly and move on.
But moments later, their clash defied everyone's expectations.
"...What?"
They closed in close.
Yet as Man-gyun's saber sliced empty air, Jeok Mu-gun thrust the blade in his grip, piercing his abdomen.
As Jeok Mu-gun withdrew his hand from the skewered torso, Man-gyun looked down blankly.
His solar plexus gaped open wide enough to fit four fists.
Staring in disbelief, he glanced back up—then collapsed, never to rise again.
"No!"
"What?!"
The spectators' eyes bulged.
A nobody slaying a Seven Great Demon Clans vice commander?
And in a single exchange, no less—who could have foreseen it?
The shock was brief; soon the crowd raised their arms in cheers.
"Woooah!"
"What martial prowess!"
"Taking down a Man Clan vice commander in one strike!"
But while the cheers rang out, silence blanketed the Man Clan.
He'd only entered to liven up the tournament on the patriarch's command—no one had imagined defeat.
In that heavy quiet, Seok Mae asked Jeok Mu-gun,
"Congratulations on your victory. Did you expect this outcome?"
"I just moved as I always do."
"Hah! That's some confidence."
A bit old for a rising star, but a dark horse like this was a welcome discovery.
Seok Mae nodded and asked,
"Good. Congratulations on your first win. Will you continue to the next round?"
"I will."
At Jeok Mu-gun's affirmation, a Man Clan warrior spoke up.
"I'll go."
His name was Man-woo.
Man-gyun's superior and the commander of the Black Lord Saber Demon Squad.
"Do as you like."
Man Ho replied curtly, tonelessly.
But his clansmen knew the implication.
Don't tarnish the Man Clan name any further. Go win now.
With permission granted, Man-woo leaped down to the arena.
He glared ahead with eyes laced in chilling killing intent.
"You."
His cold lips moved toward Jeok Mu-gun.
"I'll kill you."