The Heavenly Demon Copies Martial Arts - Chapter 182
"Hmm."
I tilted my head.
Mumyeong spoke.
He's lost his reason.
"The taunt worked."
I murmured it under my breath.
Beside me, the referee stood with his eyes gone round as saucers.
To Gwak Ido, whose eyes had rolled white with rage, the Dark Fighting Tournament no longer meant a thing. In that moment, he wanted only one thing: to kill me where I stood.
He seized the blades in both hands—edges screaming with a blue killing aura—and charged like a madman.
"Aah!"
Before the referee, sensing death, could even finish his strangled cry—
—Tuk.
I shoved him behind me.
—Hwirik.
I walked forward.
I rolled up my slipping sleeve, starting with the right.
Proud spirit laughs at ten thousand waves—
Spirit that stands against a sea of crests—
I rolled up the left sleeve and clenched a fist so tight the blood stood out in the veins.
Boiling blood burns hotter than the red sun—
Heat that outblazes daylight itself.
I flipped back the hem of my black martial robe, drew my right hand behind me to rest at the small of my waist, and opened the left palm—sheathed in the Chiljong-heukjusa-gap—straight out before me.
As a man who must make himself strong—
I cry it out.
I crooked a fingertip.
"Come."
At that single word, whatever thread of reason still clung to Gwak Ido—once the promising junior of the Jongnam Sect, the man who had looked down on me—snapped clean away.
"I'll kill you!!"
—Pabat! Pababbat!
Blue sword-qi flared as his form blurred, and Gwak Ido's full-powered sword strikes began to unfold.
—Jjeo-jeo-jeo-jeo-jeong!!!!
Hundreds of blue-sparking cuts slammed into the Chiljong-heukjusa-gap and bounced away.
"This can't be!"
Shock flooded Gwak Ido's eyes.
"Even if it's only a basic sword form for probing, the full force of the Small Heavenly Steel Sword Method—all of it blocked…?"
"Hoo—."
I let out a long breath and set my stance again.
"Is that all?"
I shook out the Chiljong-heukjusa-gap, glowing red-hot in the air.
—Chiik.
Having turned aside hundreds of slashes, the gauntlet flushed crimson, then cooled.
"Y-you—!"
Gwak Ido ground his teeth.
"No! This is only the beginning. Jongnam's pride—the Big Dipper Heavenly Steel Steps—I haven't even used them yet!!"
—Pabat!
His blue robes flared and vanished in a dazzling scatter of motion, as if flinging starlight.
"You—for a hired blade, you've grown some in that short time, haven't you! Impressive! I'll give you that! But!"
The air around Gwak Ido changed.
"Even a three-year-old knows an assassin's greatest weakness is poor stamina and a straight fight! I'll tear your corpse apart and throw it to the wild dogs—that'll show you my grudge!"
Silver traces began to linger along his path.
"Th-that—can it be!"
A startled voice burst from the stands.
"Isn't that the Big Dipper Heavenly Steel Steps?!"
Those who recognized the art Gwak Ido was unfolding let out groans of awe.
"That's Jongnam's signature footwork—seeing him use it, he really must be a Jongnam disciple!"
"That isn't a technique they teach just anyone!"
True to its place as the sect's emblematic stepping method, the mere silver afterimages of the Big Dipper Heavenly Steel Steps set the stands buzzing like a kicked hive.
"White Armband was putting up a decent fight, but once you see the Big Dipper Heavenly Steel Steps, Black Armband's the real Jongnam article."
And because this tournament, unlike the others, had real stakes for the spectators themselves, the heat of it ran even higher.
"Damn it, White Armband's got no shot. There's a saying—even a rotten herring is still a herring. This match is done. White Armband's just some nobody assassin scrap… Tch, tsk tsk."
Before long, people in the stands were calling for the bronze-runners everywhere.
"Boy! Here! Here—I want more on Black Armband! Still taking bets, right?! Hasn't even been a quarter-hour since the match started!"
"Hell, I trusted the long odds and burned my money—hey, you assassin bastard, just die quiet for this big bro—"
—Kwaaang.
From the stands came a muffled boom and the sound of something going airborne.
"—and any dog who talks slave-trash about him, I'll kill every last one of you! What the hell do you know about that man's effort, whispering your garbage behind his back!"
"Uaaagh, crazy woman!"
I thought I heard a flash of red flame and a scream, but I kept my focus on the fight in front of me.
—Pibit, pit! Pit!
Leaving silver trails, Gwak Ido's form swept the space in every direction, closing on me with mounting menace—like a grinder with its teeth bared, rolling straight toward me.
"Move carelessly and you'll be shredded. Stay still and you'll die just the same!"
"…"
My black eyes began to track his movement, slowly taking on a red cast.
Gwak Ido threw his head back and laughed in pure delight.
"What now? Feel that helplessness yet?! This is the difference between you and me—this is the gap you should have felt from the star—!"
—Gulleong.
My body rippled like a shadow and began to match him.
"Hic!"
Gwak Ido bit his tongue mid-sentence and hiccupped.
The stands went as still as if someone had dumped cold water over them.
"He's matching the Big Dipper Heavenly Steel Steps?"
"What are we even looking at right now."
This was no sparring match. It was a Dark Fighting Tournament built on life-and-death duels. And yet here was a scene that wouldn't even turn up in a bout between third-rate martial artists: someone shadowing footwork beat for beat, as if they'd rehearsed the dance together.
White Armband stuck to Black Armband's steps like a shadow, never once attacking—only following, silent and relentless. Black Armband, Gwak Ido of Jongnam, went deathly pale and poured everything into Jongnam's pride, the Big Dipper Heavenly Steel Steps at their peak. White Armband answered with a footwork no one present had ever seen, something like a wavering shadow, never quite catching, never quite falling away—toying with him to the end, glued on for the whole run.
There was only one thing anyone could read from it.
Overwhelming power.
Not by a single move.
Proof that White Armband stood at least two moves above his Black Armband opponent.
"This can't be."
Blood vessels stood out in Gwak Ido's eyes. Humiliation flushed him scarlet, ready to burst.
"You were nothing but a bug of an assassin. Used once and thrown away—that was you. And that thing… that thing…! Someone who was clearly beneath me…!"
—Paat!
Blue sword-qi condensed in both his grips, taking solid form.
Host!
For the first time, Mumyeong's warning rang out clear and sharp.
—Kwadudeudeuk!
Internal energy tore up through Gwak Ido's body in a vivid surge.
"I didn't want to use this—it's still unfinished, and it can twist the meridians—but if it means I can kill you!"
"…!"
I felt it on instinct.
This was no ordinary form.
The realization hit, and I shouted.
"Mumyeong!!!!"
…! Understood!
—Kiiing!!
I lifted my head.
Both my eyes flooded red.
I snapped both hands forward and cried out.
"Namsang Samadhi!"
Speed was everything. As fast as I could manage.
At the same time, a voice not Mumyeong's—dark, damp, thundering—rolled through my skull.
Possession Experience — Synchronizing
Extraction Framework — Display Complete
Target-form martial art identified per Cheonma Dae-seogo standard
Grade 2 — Jongnam Sect
Nine Palaces Demon-Slaying Flash
I nearly stopped breathing from the shock.
What…?! Grade 2?!
Even as a promising junior, there had been a floor to his level. A wastrel who'd chased courtesans until he was expelled—I'd figured third-rate at best. But the grade of the art unfolding before my eyes was the same tier as the superior technique I'd once copied from So Yeomgyo, the Blood Demon Four-Wheel Chain Sword. A wrongness began to crawl up my spine.
That voice, grading by the Cheonma Dae-seogo's standard, had never once been wrong.
—Deudeudeudeu…!
It felt as if formless energy were being sucked straight into Gwak Ido.
—A chill.
Gwak Ido even flung away the short sword in one hand and set himself for an all-out downward cut.
Damn it all—don't tell me…!
Mumyeong, with his relatively sharper sense, seemed to feel it too.
Host! This doesn't feel right!
"Shit! Mumyeong—open the internal energy to the maximum!!!"
I dropped my focus on the Heavenly Demon's authority and, in the same breath, began hauling power up from my dantian.
—Kkumteul.
The Chiljong-heukjusa-gap and the Go-a Yunjin had given me began to resonate together.
—Uuuuuung!!!
As the Go-a sang, protective energy woke through my body.
I thrust the Chiljong-heukjusa-gap forward.
I dragged every scrap of internal energy I had to its peak.
Before the risen power could fully leave my body, I felt it pour into the Go-a and vanish.
The moment was so brief that no one in the arena could sense the three gaps of internal energy I had released.
—Chwaak!
Protective energy spiked to its limit across my whole body, and a half-transparent membrane formed.
—Tadat!
I saw Gwak Ido's feet leap two strides closer.
The blade came down.
A single stroke of white radiance carved the air.
It was the milky edge of a guillotine meant for the throat of the world itself.
Every sound was erased.
"—!!!!"
Whatever you imagined, it was more.
The fact that I hadn't taken him lightly for even a second became my salvation.
—Kugung.
"Uwak!!"
The incomplete Nine Palaces Demon-Slaying Flash Gwak Ido unleashed crashed over me.
—Kwajik.
It sheared the edge of my protective energy—risen like a near-white, opaque shield—and glanced off, deflected.
"Up!"
The arm wearing the Chiljong-heukjusa-gap snapped back as if it would break.
I tumbled backward.
I flipped through the air.
—Tadak.
I landed hard and fast.
I lifted my head.
—Seogeok.
The Nine Palaces Demon-Slaying Flash that had split the tip of my protective energy went on to cleave the temple ceiling like tofu, then vanished.
"…"
Gwak Ido and I stared at each other, both struck speechless for entirely different reasons.
"Just now. Wh-what was that?"
The stands, too, lost their voices at what had just happened.
"Some kind of white light shot out of Black Armband's sword for a second?"
"That wasn't Sword Gangqi, was it? The stuff they say only the Transformation Realm can handle…?"
"Come off it—Sword Gangqi isn't some white light you throw like that."
"White Armband had some kind of membrane over him for a moment too, but it was so fast I couldn't really see."
I gripped my throbbing left shoulder.
I couldn't believe it.
—Uuuung.
Feeling the spent vibration of the Go-a, I replayed what had just happened.
Protective energy into which I'd poured three gaps of internal power—sheared clean at the edge by a technique that didn't even rank among the decisive secret arts, that carried no true words of transmission at all: the Nine Palaces Demon-Slaying Flash.
Protective energy was a clear downgrade from protective gangqi, far more wasteful with internal power. But it had a trait: its hardness rose in proportion to the energy invested.
I had poured in everything I could—three gaps of internal energy, a quantity without precedent in the jianghu—and for that instant, the protective energy had held a hardness that put protective gangqi to shame.
And that protective energy had been sliced away like tofu.
Of course, because the technique wasn't fully mastered, it couldn't drive straight through the center; because it was incomplete, it glanced off and I walked away whole. That was all.
I got lucky.
I muttered it, staring at my tingling left hand.
"The Nine Palaces Demon-Slaying Flash… couldn't pierce it…"
But Gwak Ido had no way of knowing that truth.
"The Nine Palaces Demon-Slaying Flash…"
Shocked past sense, he was drooling now.
"Uncle said… this technique alone could take even the Heavenly Demon's head in a single stroke—he stressed it so hard I stole it in secret, swore I'd be the only one to learn it, even burned the manual, and got myself expelled for it—and for what… what was I even…"
—Teolseok.
Gwak Ido dropped to his knees.
"I staked my whole life on a piece of trash that can't even put down a third-rate assassin bastard like that?"
He had no idea that the protective energy which stopped the Nine Palaces Demon-Slaying Flash had held three gaps of internal power. He was simply shattered by the fact that the technique had been blocked at all, staring up at the wrecked ceiling and mumbling with his mind in pieces.
In that moment, the only person who understood the true worth of the art he had just unleashed was me.
I just got something… enormous. Something I never saw coming.
I clenched my fist tight.
In my head, countless experiences still lived and breathed as vividly as if I myself had suffered life and death to master the Nine Palaces Demon-Slaying Flash.
I would stake anything on it: this was no mere Grade 2 art. Like any other technique, depending on how it was embodied, it could rise past Grade 1 and keep going—and the fact that Gwak Ido had unleashed it unfinished and it still hit this hard said everything.
"I-is it over? No, how is a prelim harder than the finals of the last Dark Fighting Tournament…"
Far off, at the broken edge of the arena, the referee was crawling up with painful effort.
I didn't know it then.
That thanks to Gwak Ido—Jongnam's wastrel, its expelled disciple—I had, without meaning to, become the sole successor to Jongnam's secret art: the Nine Palaces Demon-Slaying Flash.