Special Skills Showdown (4)
“This is mine!” The instant I heard they were offering the Flame Tiger Double Claw, I knew I had to master it.
An ordinary solar palm technique was already something to be grateful for, but the offensive forms of the Flame Tiger Double Claw? Looking back, I realized I lacked any truly scorching yet razor-sharp attack forms.
The Flame Tiger Double Claw forms should fill that gap perfectly.
I watched the academy head with eyes burning hotter than ever.
Baek Ho Jun, the Flame Flower Divine Army, seemed pleased by the shift in the cadets' mood, nodding in satisfaction.
“Good. That's the spirit I wanted. And imagine this... crushing those arrogant Sapa warriors, snatching their flag in triumph. How exhilarating would that be?”
Dan Ri-cheong chimed in, fueling the momentum. His words ignited my fighting spirit even more.
“Alright, pay attention. I'll explain the plan for the special skills showdown against Pa-cheon Academy.”
Dan Ri-cheong clapped lightly to draw our focus.
“As the hosts, we get the first strike in the special skills competition. The first cadet stepping up will be...”
His gaze landed on me, Peng Jincheon, and Meng Yuon—the ones pegged as our special skills reps.
Gulp!
Meng Yuon swallowed hard in tension; I could hear it from here.
“Cheon Myeong, master of external arts!”
Whether fortunate or not, the heavy role of seizing the initiative fell to me, Cheon Myeong.
“Cheon Myeong, you crush their momentum right from the start. Got it?”
I nodded at Dan Ri-cheong's words.
“Yes, understood.”
With the Flame Tiger Double Claw as my prize, my motivation was sky-high, and so was my confidence. Plus, if there were more events I could join later, I was ready to step up multiple times.
“Perfect. If Cheon Myeong wins as planned, next up is Cadet Meng Yuon's swift sword. If Cheon Myeong loses, Cadet Peng Jincheon's blade art takes the stage.”
Dan Ri-cheong had clearly thought this through. In his mind, I was the sure-win card, Peng Jincheon a near-certain victory, Meng Yuon neutral at best, and the rest of our cadets doomed to lose.
In other words, overwhelm them with us three and seal the win early.
I could feel his careful deliberation and resolve. I agreed to an extent—if we didn't grab the early momentum, the Sapa warriors' wild nature would run rampant like mad stallions. We had to crush them upfront.
“Understood.”
Standing at the vanguard of that crucial mission, I rose with steely determination, calmly loosening up.
For this special skills showdown, my specialty is external arts.
External arts were rare among orthodox sects but common in Sapa. I sensed tough opponents ahead.
“Let the exchange match between Cheonmu Academy and Pa-cheon Academy's upper class begin!”
Finally, the moment arrived.
“As the gracious hosts of this fine event, Cheonmu Academy strikes first.”
Ok Jisang watched Dan Ri-cheong, who was officiating, with keen interest.
“Indeed. Our first cadet is Cheon Myeong, and...”
The moment my name was called, our Cheonmu cadets cheered familiarly.
“Hm? Who?”
“Cheon Myeong? Which Cheon family?”
“Never heard of him.”
“Cheonmu Academy's scraping the bottom of the barrel. No talents left, huh?”
But Pa-cheon Academy's side buzzed with doubt.
Not surprising—I wasn't widely known even in orthodox murim. Wander Hebei without recognizing me? Plenty did. Sapa folk? Naturally clueless.
What shocked them more was yet to come.
“Cadet Cheon Myeong proposes a clash of external arts!”
Dan Ri-cheong's words barely landed before mockery and laughter erupted from the opposition.
“Puhahaha!”
“Orthodox sects have pretty boys training external arts, eh?”
“External arts? Their essence lies in Sapa murim, not your righteous lot.”
Sapa's deep-rooted passion for serious external arts made them dismiss me. Plus, the stereotype that only those with innate sturdy bones and massive builds could master it—they couldn't believe their ears.
Thud, thud.
I ignored Pa-cheon Academy's chatter, stretching calmly. I was always the challenger, proving myself time and again. Results followed naturally. Far from shrinking, I relished their underestimation—this was just the usual cycle.
“I'll do it.”
“No, me!”
“You haven't even trained external arts!”
“That guy's so scrawny, one tap and he's done.”
Soon, Pa-cheon cadets mocked me openly, fighting over who would face me.
“H-Hey, calm down!”
These sharp-edged killers suddenly bickering? It was absurd.
Even their instructor had to intervene, but Sapa style turned it into a full brawl, drawing grimaces.
Can't watch this.
I frowned slightly at their antics, stretching while awaiting my foe.
Then—
“I'll step up.”
A thick voice boomed from Pa-cheon Academy; they'd settled internally.
Not Ice Jade Wanderer Im Cho-a by the voice...
Not Tak Gong of the Extreme Assassination Sect either—he rarely spoke, and his voice seemed reedy. No match.
Maybe Yeom Cheon Gyeong, Sapa's top late-stage talent? But then—
Thud!
BOOM!
The training ground shook like an earthquake under heavy footfalls.
Astonishingly, my external arts challenger was...
Bald-headed with a bushy beard, a born powerhouse: Initial Power Black Bear Han Geojang.
I'd clashed with Huangbo clansmen resembling black bears before, but compared to this guy? Child's play.
My god, what a size.
As Han Geojang approached, his bulk dwarfed even Peng Jincheon, stunning me. More shocking was his look—did late-stage talents age like this? Innate old-man face, body hair everywhere like a yeti.
“Does Pa-cheon Academy ignore age limits?”
Laughter rippled across the field at my quip. Even Ok Jisang, leading Pa-cheon today, couldn't stifle a chuckle.
“Initial Power Black Bear Han Geojang is definitely twenty-three. I guarantee it!”
Blood Palm Iron Heart Ok Jisang, famed across the Central Plains, vouched for him—no arguing that.
Honestly, everyone wondered. Twenty-three? Try thirty-three, forty-three.
Grind!
Bones cracked from the black bear—no, Han Geojang—as he glared murderously, grinding his teeth.
“Daring to mock me? You'll regret it. I'll crush you gruesomely.”
True to Sapa form, the yeti-bear hybrid threatened away. Looked like his aged appearance was his sore spot. Whose fault was that?
“It talks?”
I toyed with him lightly. His evolutionary lag showed—face beet-red, hot snorts steaming from his nostrils, raising the ambient heat.
“Let's be precise. You proposed external arts... but how exactly?”
Ok Jisang, expecting Han Geojang's easy win, asked casually from behind.
External arts clashes had many forms: arm-wrestling, circle shoving matches, etc.
“I'll yield the format to Great Hero Han Geojang—or should I say Young Hero Han Geojang?”
I poked again deliberately. I'd chosen the specialty; fairness meant he picked the method.
“Y-You!”
Demoted to “young hero,” Han Geojang raged anew, clenching his fists to calm down.
“You pick! I don't care! I'll kill you any way!”
He kicked away a gift horse. I'd win regardless, of course.
“Then... cheek-slapping it is.”
I chose cheek-slapping from the external arts formats.
Simple: alternate slaps, first to fall loses; last one standing wins.
“Hahaha!”
Han Geojang beamed, clapping his massive paws—pot-lid sized, exaggeratedly roof-like.
Cheek-slapping was the manliest external clash, demanding endurance few dared.
But me proposing it? They see a joke.
My hands were tiny by comparison. Han Geojang smirked, displeasure gone.
“Great. Perfect! You first? Or me?”
“You go ahead.”
First or second didn't matter. Outcome was set—what was there to fear?
“Fine. I'll start!”
Having swallowed his rage, Initial Power Black Bear Han Geojang stretched showily. His innate physique and huge palms were weapon-grade.
“Ready?”
He looked down like I'd topple from a poke, loosening lightly.
“Whenever.”
My go-ahead flipped his eyes feral; he bared his teeth.
Unleashing Sapa's famed Super Force Iron Cannon Skill, his burly frame swelled grotesquely with muscle and veins. Gruesome enough to send the faint-hearted or kids fleeing.
I didn't flinch.
“Dieee!”
Venting all his pent-up fury, Han Geojang swung full-force at my cheek.
I'd activated Great Power Iron Hardening Skill in that split second to shield my body.
No matter how mighty his external art, it meant nothing to me. This was the pinnacle external art in the Seven Falls, Eight Rises: Invincible Fist King world—no fear.
KABOOOM!
His palm finally struck. The impact whipped up dust storms; the sound wasn't a slap but a break.
“Gaaaaahhh!”
A piercing scream echoed.
Not mine—the massive Initial Power Black Bear Han Geojang's frail wail.