Demonic Energy!
Bukjin dropped into a horse stance, twisting his waist as he unleashed a rapid succession of palm strikes. This was the Hundred-Step God-Shattering Palm, performed with every ounce of his strength unleashed. The force erupting from his palms was so immense that the air itself shrieked, the shockwaves becoming visible to the naked eye. The space through which the strikes traveled was violently distorted.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Palm-shaped indentations were branded into the deck, the walls, the masts, and various sections of the battleship. The vessel the students were fighting on was a Taegum-grade warship; its deck and hull were forged from a special alloy created through high-level alchemy. It was not only incredibly sturdy but possessed a hardness that wouldn't suffer a single scratch from conventional cannons or arrows. Seeing such vivid palm prints carved into that hull sent a chill down the spectators' spines, freezing them in their seats.
"If a human took a palm strike like that, they'd explode instantly!"
"Jo Pacheon might have lost his mind to rage, but thank goodness his combat instincts are still sharp!"
Jo Pacheon was utilizing the footwork of White Cloud City, moving like a shifting mist as he constantly repositioned himself to evade Bukjin’s palm strikes. Suddenly, he pivoted and lunged toward Bukjin’s flank.
Swish!
Sword qi sliced through the air. Jo Pacheon swung his blade with everything he had. It was the most powerful strike he currently possessed. His metallic Hyeongi gleamed with a sharp, lethal light, erupting with enough momentum to seemingly cleave the warship in two.
"Die! You half-breed!" Jo Pacheon screamed, his voice savage.
Bukjin didn't dodge. In an instant, he summoned his Virtue Sword and swung it with a violent force. The most powerful energy he had kept hidden deep within his body for so long finally exploded outward. The technique Bukjin unleashed was Sea-Cleaving Tide, the very move he had used to crush Wang Hyeong-yeo. An illusion of a colossal wave swallowed the surroundings, the sword form stained crimson by the blood mist generated from his Reverse Blood Circulation.
Boom!
The two ultimate techniques collided, sending a terrifying shockwave exploding in every direction. At the epicenter of the clash, a powerful vortex formed, warping the very fabric of space. It looked as if the air itself was being compressed by the sheer weight of their power. A moment later, that compressed air detonated, creating a massive gale that swept across the deck. The two combatants were swallowed by a red typhoon saturated with bloodlust.
A blinding crimson light flared across the crystal screens for the audience. Spectators with lower cultivation levels screamed and clutched their eyes in agony, feeling as though they were about to go blind.
After a brief moment...
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Two figures shot out from the center of the explosion in opposite directions. Bukjin landed, staggering. His steps were heavy, and he dragged the massive Virtue Sword along the floor. Sparks flew as the blade scraped the deck. His hair tie had snapped, leaving his long black hair to flutter wildly in the wind. He looked like a War God of Black Flames.
Jo Pacheon’s condition was far worse. He stumbled, slammed into the wall of the warship, and slowly slumped to the floor. A trail of blood marked his path. The blade of the longsword in his hand had been shattered into pieces. His clothes were shredded, and numerous shards of his own broken blade were embedded in his flesh. He coughed up blood continuously, and more poured from the wounds covering his body. A pool of crimson was already forming at his feet.
"You..." Jo Pacheon struggled, trying to force himself back up. When he saw Bukjin standing before him, seemingly uninjured, a wave of shock hit him, followed by an even greater surge of fury.
How can this be? Jo Pacheon couldn't wrap his head around it. I am... Why can't I defeat a half-breed like him?
"Do you understand now?" Bukjin asked, gripping his sword as he approached Jo Pacheon. "Do you finally understand how weak you are?"
Jo Pacheon’s rage flared again, but he was too drained to even speak. As his emotions surged, his internal injuries worsened, causing him to vomit more blood. Bits of internal organs seemed to be mixed in the gore.
"Ugh... I..." Jo Pacheon cried out in shock, staring at the blood and clots filling his palms. "I'm seriously injured! Seriously! Im Bukjin! Are you trying to murder me right now?!"
The sight of the clots in his blood felt like a waking nightmare. The face of the genius of White Cloud City turned paler than ever before. The fear of death rushed in, and the last shred of courage Jo Pacheon possessed vanished like smoke.
"Seriously injured? Don't make me laugh. As far as I can see, you're still perfectly fine," Bukjin said, flourishing his sword. "Come on, get up. You clearly have strength left to fight. Let's keep going."
Bukjin moved quickly, his eyes gleaming. What does it matter if I kill you? I'll take this chance to snuff out your life completely. The grudge from Bukhwang Mountain must be repaid!
Most importantly, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep soundly if he let an enemy like Jo Pacheon live. Bukjin was determined to cut the root of the problem once and for all. He couldn't leave any loose ends. In a battle this intense, accidentally killing an opponent won't be an issue! Intense killing intent flowed down the length of Bukjin’s blade.
"N-No..." Jo Pacheon was completely seized by terror. He began to scream. "I-I lose! I surrender! Judge! Save me!!!"
Under the shadow of death, Jo Pacheon completely lost his mind and broke down. Squeezing out the last of his strength, he began to scramble toward the judge in the distance. But before he could take more than a few steps, a mysterious, undetectable power flowed into his body from the direction of the distant harbor.
Jo Pacheon’s running body froze in place.
"Now's my chance!" Bukjin’s eyes flashed as he used the momentum of his swing to cleave toward Jo Pacheon.
Thwack!
Half of Bukjin’s blade buried itself in Jo Pacheon’s left shoulder. At that moment—
"Stop!"
The judge, who had been watching the battle with bated breath, finally moved. Shouting at the top of his lungs, the middle-aged judge drew his own sword and moved like a bolt of lightning to intercept Bukjin’s blade. However, Bukjin’s sword didn't stop; it continued to push forward with immense force, intent on cutting Jo Pacheon down.
"Have you lost your mind?!" the judge shouted, his expression panicked as he realized Bukjin was still applying lethal force. He could feel the overwhelming murderous intent blooming in Bukjin’s heart. His expression shifted drastically as he whispered to Bukjin, "Im Bukjin. Don't lose your reason. This is an act that will dig your own grave. You've already won. Don't you want the championship?!"
It was advice given out of concern for Bukjin’s future. Bukjin tried to force the sword through several more times, but it wouldn't budge. The judge’s skill was formidable, far exceeding Bukjin’s own. Bukjin let out a silent sigh.
It's impossible to kill Jo Pacheon this time.
"I made a momentary mistake," Bukjin said, withdrawing his sword and stepping back. The moment the Virtue Sword was pulled from Jo Pacheon’s shoulder, blood sprayed out like a fountain. If the judge had been a second later, Jo Pacheon would have been cleaved in half. Bukjin felt a deep sense of regret.
The judge finally let out a long sigh of relief. He was actually on Bukjin’s side. Although Bukjin’s reputation was poor and his behavior often left much to be desired, the judge felt that the boy possessed a passionate and sincere heart. In contrast, while Jo Pacheon appeared to be a brilliant disciple of White Cloud City, the judge saw him as selfish to the bone, arrogant, and insidious. He didn't particularly care if Bukjin killed Jo Pacheon in a fit of impulse; he was simply worried that Bukjin would throw away the championship and become a criminal.
But in that instant...
Something happened that the judge hadn't expected in his wildest dreams. A bizarre black mist began to seep out from the wounds of Jo Pacheon, who was currently groaning and grimacing in agony.
"I-I..." Jo Pacheon looked as if he were experiencing a level of extreme terror beyond death itself. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but as he did, a glossy black liquid, resembling ink, erupted from his throat.
The judge’s face turned ashen.
"Demonic Energy!"
Shouting in shock, the judge quickly put distance between himself and Jo Pacheon, positioning himself to protect Bukjin.
"AAAAAAAGH!!!"
Jo Pacheon let out a maddened shriek. His pupils were dyed a deep, abyssal black. He looked like a beast crawling out of the depths of hell, and even the blood flowing from his body had turned pitch black. A pungent, nauseating stench wafted from the gore pooling on the floor. Jo Pacheon’s entire body began to swell at a visible rate, as if he were about to explode.
What the hell is happening? Bukjin was stunned. It looks like he's been poisoned by something.
The anomaly occurring in Jo Pacheon’s body was being broadcast to the spectator stands via the crystal screens.
"That looks exactly like Demonic Energy!"
"Could it be... did Jo Pacheon fall into Demonic Possession because he couldn't handle his rage?"
"Demonic Possession only happens if you have a Demon Seed in your body! This has nothing to do with emotions..."
"Does that mean Jo Pacheon, a disciple of White Cloud City, was a Demon Worshipper all along?"
A massive uproar broke out in the stands. People were jumping out of their seats in shock. This was the first time such an event had ever occurred in the history of the Academic & Martial Arts Competition.
"How can this be?" Cho Heun and the others were equally stunned. The state Jo Pacheon was displaying was a clear sign of Demonic Possession. But Jo Pacheon was a prestigious disciple of White Cloud City. The people couldn't fathom the situation. If it were true that a disciple of White Cloud City—the holy land of swordsmanship—worshipped the Sama and harbored a Demon Seed, it would be a catastrophic blow to the city's reputation.