Chapter 132
Chapter 132
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 132
Chapter Title: Unrivaled Arena Dominance
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Dokgo Sain stood on the arena stage, with Hwang Unchu collapsed at his feet.
The spectators' reactions split in two upon seeing them.
"What the hell?"
"Is he dead?"
"What just happened?"
Most people couldn't immediately grasp what had transpired.
Dokgo Sain's form had split into three, vanished for a moment, and then reappeared—only after which Hwang Unchu suddenly spewed blood from his throat and crumpled.
They hadn't caught even a glimpse of Dokgo Sain employing his movement technique, let alone unleashing his martial arts or launching an attack.
All they witnessed was the end result: Hwang Unchu's body, cold and still.
Thus, the crowd stared at the arena in bewildered confusion.
But a few experts among them had different looks in their eyes.
In particular, the gazes of the Seven Great Demon Clans' Patriarchs held both admiration and wariness toward Dokgo Sain's movements.
Hyeok Mulin, too, nodded in approval at the display.
'A movement technique impossible to counter.'
Dokgo Sain's form had indeed divided into three.
But in truth, all three were illusions—there was no real body among them.
By the time eyes were drawn to the phantoms, Dokgo Sain had already slipped behind his opponent.
'And the kill was executed flawlessly.'
Dokgo Sain hadn't revealed any internal energy until the very moment of attack, ensuring his approach went undetected.
Only in that fleeting instant of slashing the throat did he infuse demonic energy into his flying needle.
There were no words for it but "clean and precise."
"I wonder if anyone remains bold enough to face him after witnessing today's matches."
Unless it was a fight to the death, few seemed willing to risk their lives against the prowess Dokgo Sain had shown.
"Anyone else wish to challenge me?"
Dokgo Sain remained on the stage, awaiting another opponent.
But the warriors, burning with vengeful fury just moments ago, now hesitated and held back.
Hwang Unchu's gruesome corpse reignited their fears, smothering any outrage toward Dokgo Sain.
"No more challengers?"
As Seok Mae's question hung in the air and the crowd fell silent—
Boom—
Someone leaped onto the arena with a thunderous crash.
Once the dust settled, Dokgo Sain glimpsed the man's face and offered a faint smile.
"Good to see you here."
But contrary to his greeting, the hulking middle-aged challenger glared at him with bloodshot eyes.
"I'd love nothing more than to rip that smug grin off your face right now."
With his long, disheveled hair, he resembled a rugged wanderer in fine form.
His identity: Nanma Salseong, former helmsman of the Black Emperor Gang, who had once dominated the underworld as the second-in-command of the Lone Valley Clan years ago.
Now, he was little more than a rootless drifter.
The Black Emperor Gang had fallen to the Lone Valley Clan's iron fist after growing greedy and extorting excessive protection money from the common folk.
"Do you still refuse to acknowledge your own faults?"
Dokgo Sain shook his head with a pitying expression.
Nanma Salseong scoffed in disbelief.
"Destroying a gang over a few extra taels of protection money? And you call me the one who won't admit fault? Bah! You dog—I'll slice that tongue of yours in half!"
As Nanma Salseong drew his blade, the arena filled with the stench of blood.
Everyone gathered at the Martial God Arena could sense the sheer volume of slaughter he had wrought.
"No more words needed, then."
Dokgo Sain shook his head and glanced at Seok Mae.
Seok Mae nodded and stepped back, signaling the start of the match.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Black sword energy erupted from Nanma Salseong's grip as he advanced with massive strides.
He unleashed a cross-slash—horizontal and vertical sweeps nearly simultaneous.
Then, without pause, two diagonal strikes followed.
This sword technique offered no escape from the front, chaining four attacks: Twin Chaos Demon Blade.
Swish.
In response, Dokgo Sain executed Flowing Ghost Step, his feet seeming to glide effortlessly above the ground.
He darted across the entire arena at blinding speed, making his presence known.
Nanma Salseong's assaults never touched him.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Dark projectiles rained down on Nanma Salseong from all directions.
He deflected many, but some struck true.
Wounds accumulated across his body, yet he could muster no counter.
'Where the hell are they coming from?!'
He couldn't even spot Dokgo Sain, much less predict the projectiles' origins.
Huddled in defense, he finally resolved to go all out before death claimed him. Gathering every ounce of his innate true energy, he condensed his internal force.
If revenge was possible, his life was a small price to pay.
Aiming for mutual destruction, Nanma Salseong prepared his ultimate named technique.
The instant he lunged toward the fleeting silhouette in his vision—
"……?"
Nanma Salseong froze.
A strange foreign sensation bloomed in his chest.
Lowering his gaze slowly, he discovered a flying needle embedded in his heart.
"When...?"
He hadn't sensed the fatal strike at all. His eyes widened in horror.
They rolled back, whites showing.
The world tilted.
Thud—!
The massive body toppled, and all eyes turned to Dokgo Sain.
He approached calmly, extracted the needle from Nanma Salseong's chest.
Wiping the blood with an impassive face, he flashed a serene smile at the crowd.
"Who's next?"
Silence enveloped the arena.
Dokgo Sain.
Known only as an elder of the Lone Valley Clan, most spectators hadn't even recognized his face yesterday.
Today, his features and deeds seared themselves into every mind—a shocking display.
After two victories, with no further challengers, Dokgo Sain left the stage.
Hyeok Mulin watched his retreating figure and nodded.
'Mission accomplished.'
He had clearly demonstrated the Lone Valley Clan's enduring strength.
His prowess would influence their future actions significantly.
Any lingering underestimation from their absence was now eradicated.
In that light, entering the Great Demon Martial God Tournament had been a masterful decision.
The matches continued, time flowing onward.
As dusk began to fall, people started rising to leave.
Judging the day's bouts nearly over, they sought to exit smoothly.
But then, a woman appeared on the stage, halting everyone in their tracks.
"……!"
"……!"
"Why is she on the arena?!"
She drew wide-eyed shock from the crowd.
Her presence dimmed the surroundings, as if bathed solely in sunset glow.
Her ethereal beauty evoked a celestial descent, exuding refined elegance.
She was Yagul Sohwa, young mistress of the Yagul Clan.
No one had expected her to step onto the stage.
It was even more astonishing than Dokgo Sain's appearance.
The Yagul Clan specialized in sonic arts.
Such techniques shone against groups, emphasizing mass slaughter.
Thus, sonic experts rarely appeared in one-on-one matches.
Everyone assumed no Yagul representative this tournament—until she shattered expectations.
"Greetings. I am Yagul Sohwa, young mistress of the Yagul Clan."
She offered a simple bow to the crowd.
Her gentle smile set hearts racing—not just among men, but women too.
"Is there anyone here to spar with me?"
Her question unwittingly drew feet forward.
No profound energy laced her voice, yet it captivated, bodies responding first.
"I'll take the stage."
"Hey now, there's an order to these things. I've been waiting—let me go."
"Even her voice is enchanting."
"I won't let anyone harm Young Mistress Yagul."
Warriors jostled eagerly, some even vowing to protect her from harm.
This frenzy starkly contrasted prior challengers.
One man seized the moment, flipping acrobatically onto the stage.
Tall and handsome, the youth bowed courteously to Yagul Sohwa.
"Pleased to meet you, young lady. I am Song Ilseop, young master of the White Wolf Song Clan."
Revealing himself, he grinned flirtatiously.
"It's an honor to share this grand stage with you. I hope we meet again in even finer circumstances."
His face brimmed with ulterior motives.
Rather than focusing on the match, he sought connection with her.
Male spectators scowled in envy, powerless to intervene.
One-on-one rules barred interference once on stage.
"However..."
Song Ilseop eyed Yagul Sohwa curiously.
"No instrument? Are you sure?"
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"Now that you mention it, she's empty-handed."
"Will she be okay?"
"Yeah, she should at least have a flute."
Common belief held instruments essential for sonic arts.
Yet Yagul Sohwa had ascended without one.
To their concerns, she smiled faintly.
"No need to worry."
"Hm. Very well."
Song Ilseop nodded reluctantly.
"Then let the match begin."
As Seok Mae retreated, Song Ilseop drew his sword.
Gazing at Yagul Sohwa, he admired her beauty while fretting.
'How do I strike that fragile body without hurting her?'
He knew she was young mistress of one of the Seven Great Demon Clans.
But dismissing sonic arts, he trusted his lifelong sword mastery to prevail.
Resolved to use the flat of his blade gently, he advanced slowly at the start.
Then, still a zhang away—
Clap!
Yagul Sohwa clapped lightly.
The instant Song Ilseop registered the sound, his body staggered.
"……?"
He pressed forward, but his flesh rebelled.
Some sensory disruption twisted him diagonally, stumbling.
'Something's wrong.'
Alert at last, Song Ilseop focused, thrusting fiercely at her.
Prior chivalry?
Forgotten in the urgency.
As his sword tip honed in—
A— Ahh— Ah—
Yagul Sohwa parted her lips, unleashing Pulse-Shattering Yin Sound.
Vast demonic energy from her mouth transformed into waves.
Those waves pierced Song Ilseop's body with razor sharpness.
Mid-thrust, Song Ilseop halted.
He stood slumped, motionless.
Drip.
Soon, crimson blood streamed from his nose.
Then, blood erupted from every orifice.
His meridians ruptured, body unable to endure.
Drained dry, he collapsed in a shriveled, wretched heap.
'...Huh?'
'Match over?'
'What just happened?'
The crowd gaped in confusion.
They'd seen only a clap and a hum.
But the horrific aftermath revealed the truth.
It was no ordinary sound—a sonic art targeting one alone.
Gulp.
Chills ran through the spectators at Yagul Sohwa's prowess.
She smiled sweetly at them.
"Did my voice please you?"