Chapter 134
Chapter 134
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 134
Chapter Title: The Blood Mad Fighting Venerable
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The Demonic Martial God Tournament proceeded successfully from then on.
As the days passed, even stronger fighters emerged, and martial artists of all sorts revealed themselves.
A boy not yet of age took the stage at times, and a common housewife one might see at the river laundry appeared on the arena.
An elderly man, barely standing with the aid of a staff and breathing raggedly as if on his last breath, stepped up, as did a limping cripple missing one leg.
For all their wildly varied appearances, there was one thing they all shared.
Every one of them displayed brilliant martial prowess fitting the life-or-death stakes of the Demonic Martial God Tournament.
Not a single one fell short in skill, so the crowd's interest and cheers grew day by day.
"The winner is the Lone Leg Punishing Spear!"
At Seok Mae's shout, the limper raised his spear high in celebration of his victory.
He was a martial artist with a somewhat known moniker, but several challengers had underestimated him due to his missing limb and issued challenges.
Yet in the end, they all met miserable defeats at the hands of the limping warrior.
With no more challengers coming forward, he sheathed his spear and limped off the arena with a satisfied gait.
Of course, to onlookers, it just looked like unsteady hobbling.
After he departed, Seok Mae called out to accept the next challenger.
"Anyone wishing to participate, step forward!"
Now that the Demonic Martial God Tournament had passed its midpoint, most martial artists no longer jumped in immediately.
So the crowd scanned the surroundings, wondering who would appear next, when a commotion arose from one group.
"It seems the time has come."
"Sect Leader!"
"Show them the might of our sect!"
"Hm."
The man standing at their center then slowly stepped forward.
Even in his loose blackish-blue martial robes, the prominent bulge of muscles beneath hinted at his mastery of external arts.
With wrinkles around his eyes, his gaze carried the depth of profound experience.
Boom!
As he landed on the arena with a thunderous crash, the crowd turned intrigued gazes his way.
"That guy's definitely..."
"The sect leader of the Silent Strong Sect."
"The Strong West Demon Fist, Tae Hwgon!"
Strong West Demon Fist Tae Hwgon.
He was the man who had visited the fist schools of the western Xinjiang one by one, smashing their dojos.
The sects that first faced him reacted similarly.
They furrowed their brows at the sudden challenge to their leader and planned to discipline him lightly before chasing him out.
But those plans fell apart easily.
No disciple of any fist school could subdue him.
And that held true even after the sect leaders themselves stepped up.
Twelve fist schools existed in western Xinjiang.
Not a single one of their leaders had defeated him.
Thus, Tae Hwgon, who triumphed over twelve sect leaders single-handedly, unified them all into the Silent Strong Sect.
"They say his obsession with fist arts is incredible."
"Word is he trains without sleeping two hours a day."
"His sect already has hundreds of disciples."
Once he took the sect leader position, Tae Hwgon immersed himself in grueling all-night training and research into fist techniques.
In the end, he fused the twelve schools' fist arts into a new creation: the Advanced Silent Strong Tyrant Fist, which he taught his disciples.
This demonic art was simple yet devastatingly powerful, and as rumors spread across western Xinjiang, applicants flooded in.
Thus, the Silent Strong Sect rose steadily until it became the most renowned fist sect in the region.
"Pleased to meet you. I am Tae Hwgon, sect leader of the Silent Strong Sect."
He addressed the demons seated in the tournament arena and continued.
"I'll accept challengers, but I'd prefer someone who fights with fists if possible. Fist artists only truly feel it against their own kind, don't you think?"
"Well said!"
"The sect leader speaks true!"
His words drew cheers from the Silent Strong Sect disciples, filling the arena.
"Anyone who wants a proper brawl, come down to the arena."
At his clear declaration seeking a pure fist fight, the crowd watched the arena with interest.
Who would clash head-on with the Strong West Demon Fist?
As eyes and attention converged in anticipation...
Thud thud thud!
A man vaulted over the railing and leaped into the arena.
He landed lightly and faced Tae Hwgon.
"Hm...?"
Tae Hwgon tilted his head as he looked at him.
His build resembled a boy whose growth hadn't finished, yet his face looked like a man in his early thirties.
He wore tattered leather garb, as if he'd come down from some deep mountain valley, with sharply slitted eyes.
An unexpected figure in many ways, but one thing was clear.
"Who are you?"
Tae Hwgon had never heard of a martial artist with such an appearance.
When he asked, a simple reply came soon enough.
"I'm Dougwang."
A terse answer that could be either moniker or name.
But Tae Hwgon had never heard such a title or name in his life, so he realized this was an unknown warrior.
Likewise, Hyeok Mulin, listening from the top tier, slowly curved his lips.
"Dougwang...?"
"Do you know him?"
At Ji Wolhon's question, Hyeok Mulin rummaged through his memories briefly.
...No way.
Dredging up his past life's recollections, Hyeok Mulin looked down at him with an odd glint in his eyes.
"Not certain yet."
But he had a faint hunch.
However, the figure in his memories differed slightly in moniker and appearance from the one now on the arena.
So he'd have to watch for now.
As Hyeok Mulin focused on Dougwang, Tae Hwgon scratched his head while eyeing him.
"Well, this isn't quite what I had in mind..."
Tae Hwgon had boldly called for fist fighters, expecting notable opponents.
But out of nowhere, this unheard-of kid-like nobody shows up.
It completely missed his expectations.
But he couldn't back out now.
Snap.
"Let's get started then."
Tae Hwgon spread his stance and faced forward.
No need for more talk.
Finish quick and move to the next was the smart play.
The moment Seok Mae signaled the start, he charged ahead, pulling back his fist.
He unleashed the Bone-Shattering First Fist straight at Dougwang's face.
Boom!
The impact of fist on face hardly seemed possible, yet the ground shook as a roar echoed to the heavens.
The Bone-Shattering First Fist held such destructive power that no ordinary martial artist's raised arm or leg could block it—it would shatter the bone itself.
And to land it clean on an unguarded face?
Tae Hwgon figured his opponent's head had burst like a melon.
Regrettable, but what could be done?
It was his mistake to enter a life-or-death duel with inferior skill.
Without a shred of guilt, he slowly withdrew his hand.
But as Dougwang's face gradually came into view, Tae Hwgon's eyes widened in shock.
"What?!"
He'd infused it with demonic energy and swung full force, yet Dougwang's face bore only a light scrape.
With one eyebrow furrowed, Dougwang chided him.
"That all you got?"
Enraged, Tae Hwgon channeled fist energy into both hands.
He unleashed the Strong Demon Hundred-Third Fist, raining a barrage of punches on Dougwang.
His hands seemed to multiply into a hundred, pummeling him wildly.
But still...
"Boring."
Dougwang, making no defensive posture, took the hits, tilted his head with a creak, then snorted.
Moments later, he faced forward and growled.
"Guess I'll go then?"
As he finished speaking, Dougwang's eyes turned bloodshot red.
At the same time, veins bulged prominently across his body.
Dougwang's arm began to move slowly.
Soon, it accelerated to a speed the eye struggled to follow.
Strength against strength.
Hundreds of Dougwang's punches flew at Tae Hwgon in turn.
Thud thud thud thud!
The brawl evolved into a pride-fueled slugfest.
Neither yielded an inch, clashing fiercely.
But as time passed, their stances became clear.
Tae Hwgon's face hardened, while Dougwang's lips split into a grin.
Damage accumulated on both sides.
But while Tae Hwgon grew weaker with each blow, Dougwang's attacks only quickened and grew more savage.
"Th-this...!"
Finally sensing defeat, Tae Hwgon's eyes bulged.
Bang!
Dougwang drove a final punch into his face.
Battered into a bloody mess after dozens of strikes, Tae Hwgon collapsed, spent.
Dougwang looked down at him, licked the blood from his lips, and wiped it away.
He shook the bloody clumps from his hand and said.
"No fun."
Tae Hwgon's total defeat.
At this outcome that upended all expectations, Seok Mae hesitated briefly before announcing.
"The winner is Dougwang!"
Unbelievable, but a new face always stirred the crowd's interest.
The people soon cheered fervently, welcoming the rising star.
"Will you continue accepting challenges?"
Seok Mae asked Dougwang, who bit at his nails and muttered to himself.
"Wanna do more, but..."
His expression itched for more combat, but he sighed, recalling something, and turned away.
"I'm done here."
The crowd voiced regrets at not seeing more of his fiery fights.
Hyeok Mulin nodded as he watched Dougwang's retreating figure with half-lidded eyes.
"Just as I thought."
Having observed his movements with the Divine Demon Eye during the fight, Hyeok Mulin was certain.
This man wielded not demonic arts, but unorthodox faction techniques.
'Then it's really him.'
The vaguely recalled figure from memory, different from his current look.
Blood Mad Fighting Venerable Hwanghun.
The future overlord of the unorthodox factions had appeared at the Demonic Martial God Tournament.
Two possibilities then.
He'd come to Xinjiang before fully joining the unorthodox side.
'Or he's an unorthodox spy.'
To Hyeok Mulin, the answer was already obvious.
"Guard Captain Ji."
"Yes, Cult Leader."
"Put someone on the man who just left. Keep distance—no close approaches—and monitor him."
Having shown up at the Demonic Martial God Tournament, he couldn't just leave freely.
This was Xinjiang's Heavenly Mountain.
The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's home base—he'd best not forget that.