Chapter 63
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Black Star Resolute Fist
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A moment later.
"Hey... could you call that bastard Tae-seong for me?"
Those were the first words out of Pyo Gi-myeong's mouth as he was carried in on a stretcher, both arms broken.
But Tae-seong was nowhere to be seen—probably off in the bathroom or somewhere.
Pyo Gi-myeong had no choice but to end up in a pitiful state, unable to even wipe his own ass for the foreseeable future.
The next match was Shim Sa-hyeok of the Imperial Palace Martial Academy versus Baek Yu-hyeon of the Heavenly Mechanism Sect.
Shim Sa-hyeok was someone Hwang Tae-seong had once saved from a brutal ordeal at the hands of the Overlord Sect heirs back in Cheonhyang.
He was always quiet and focused solely on his duties, never one to stand out. Yet among the Imperial Palace Martial Academy's representatives, he had made the most significant gains in skill.
Even so, he couldn't hold out against a Demon Dragon Academy fighter. He spent the entire match on the defensive and ultimately lost.
Still, the fact that he was the only one from the Imperial Palace Martial Academy to walk away unscathed spoke volumes about his solid abilities.
"Good work out there."
"I fell short."
"It wasn't just bad luck—you were outmatched."
His teammates' consolations left Shim Sa-hyeok's face a mix of relief and regret, like a student who'd just finished their college entrance exams.
The next bout pitted Deung Heon of the Cheongsong Family against Un Ja-cheon of the Four Black Alliances.
I had a grudge against Un Ja-cheon, so I watched the match hoping he'd take a fall.
But the fight unfolded entirely in his favor from start to finish.
The Cheongsong Family's swordsmanship was among the finest in the orthodox sects. Yet the Four Black Alliances' blade work was no slouch either, rivaling any righteous faction's techniques.
With their martial arts on equal footing in terms of quality, it came down to the fighters' personal prowess—and Un Ja-cheon had the edge over Deung Heon.
"Chain Life-Seizing Sword!"
Un Ja-cheon's Chain Life-Seizing Sword unleashed a barrage of feints and flourishes in every direction, dazzling Deung Heon's eyes.
The Four Black Alliances' style emphasized variations over raw speed.
Over hundreds of exchanges, Deung Heon was steadily pushed back.
Then, Un Ja-cheon's sudden Rock-Shattering Palm struck Deung Heon square in the chest.
Boom!
Deung Heon spewed a fountain of blood and flew out of the arena.
—Thud!
The referee raised his flag toward Un Ja-cheon and shouted.
"Four Black Alliances! Un Ja-cheon wins!"
"Woooaaah!"
"Four Black Alliances forever!"
"Unorthodox forever!"
"Un Ja-cheon! Un Ja-cheon! Un Ja-cheon!"
"Un Ja-cheon! Un Ja-cheon! Un Ja-cheon!"
The unorthodox crowd's cheers were deafening.
Not just because he was the son of the Evil Alliance Leader, but because he'd crushed his orthodox opponent more decisively than anyone else that day.
As Un Ja-cheon savored the adulation from his cheering fans and turned to leave the arena, our eyes met.
Sure enough, he traced a finger across his throat at me before vanishing.
"...Hmph."
Watching him go, I thought to myself that the bastard really needed a thorough thrashing.
The kind that would make him piss himself at the mere sight of my shadow.
The next match was Sima Ryang versus Chu O-gyeom of Tiger Claw Palace.
Sima Ryang had a crucial bout ahead, but the fire he'd shown at the start seemed to have died down.
He probably came down with some post-traumatic stress after running into Yang So-so.
I approached the dejected Sima Ryang, planning to give him a jolt, and whispered in his ear.
"I've actually been holding something back..."
He leaned in, assuming it was important, and whispered back.
"What is it?"
"Those guys actually sent an assassin after me once."
"What? An assassin? Is that for real? Revenge for the arm-wrestling contest?"
"Exactly."
"Why tell me now?"
"I figured it'd just worry you, so I was gonna keep it quiet. But seeing their smug faces pisses me off. Think you could avenge me?"
Sparks flew from Sima Ryang's eyes, and his teeth ground together audibly.
"Don't worry about a thing!"
Armored in fury, Sima Ryang roughly shook out his limbs and stormed toward the arena.
From behind him, I shouted my private victory cheer, known only to me.
"Sima Ryang, fighting!"
Up on the platform, Sima Ryang glared at Chu O-gyeom like he wanted to kill him.
"......"
Chu O-gyeom looked down on him with utter contempt.
"Time for a pat-down. Cooperate."
Sima Ryang raised his arms.
The referee thoroughly checked his wrists and sides.
Even then, Sima Ryang's eyes never left Chu O-gyeom. The search finally ended.
Sima Ryang slowly lowered his arms and asked.
"Was it you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You sent the assassin after my friend."
Chu O-gyeom, with his sly grin, raised his hands innocently in denial.
"Assassin? Hmm... Beats me? No idea what you're talking about."
"Hmph, playing dumb..."
"From what I saw, your 'friend' looks like he's made enemies everywhere. Why assume it's us? Feels a bit unfair between old classmates, don't you think?"
"Dodging the issue?"
"Dodging? Anyway... You sure you're in a position to worry about others? Shouldn't you be fretting about yourself right now?"
"What, you worried about me? I'm so touched I'm about to cry."
"Of course. I've always worried about you."
"Really? That's rich coming from the guy who spent his school days plotting how to torment me."
"What, getting all emotional over that? Bastards like you must be super sensitive, huh? Crying over the littlest things... Heh heh."
"We've got rich emotions, us bastards."
"Heh heh. Speaking of which, want some fun news?"
"News?"
"Your half-brothers from the family. You know they didn't even make the preliminary roster for this tournament? Heh heh heh..."
"Obvious—they're not in the stands."
"Isn't it hilarious? All the legitimate sons are sitting pretty in the audience, and here you are, the bastard, up on stage."
Chu O-gyeom nodded toward where Sima Ryang's half-brothers were indeed glaring at him coldly from the seats.
"Pathetic losers, right? Even losing to a bastard."
Sima Ryang's face turned icy as he replied to Chu O-gyeom, who emphasized the word "bastard."
"You'll be just like them soon enough."
"What'd you say?"
"You'll be another pathetic loser who got beaten by a bastard."
A chilling killing intent settled in Chu O-gyeom's eyes.
"You really must have a death wish."
At that moment, the gong signaling the start of the match rang out.
—Dongggg!
With the sound, Chu O-gyeom hurriedly assumed his stance.
His eyes blazed red with rage.
"I was gonna go easy on you, but this is all your fault!"
Tiger Claw Palace was famous for its claw techniques.
They hid all sorts of hidden weapons in their gauntlets, making them masters of irregular attacks.
Instead of gauntlets, he formed his fingers into claws—like Dragon Claw Hands.
This time, Sima Ryang took his stance. The technique he planned to unveil in the tournament was fist fighting.
But the pose he struck wasn't from the Imperial Palace Martial Academy. Nor was it from the Black Star Sect.
It was a completely unfamiliar stance no one here had ever seen.
It was the modern mixed martial arts stance Tae-seong had taught him.
Not pure modern MMA, but Black Star Sect techniques Sima Ryang knew, refined just enough.
Back when Sima Ryang was learning strength training from Tae-seong, it wasn't just muscle-building exercises.
After teaching him the basics, Tae-seong had asked him to demonstrate his best secret technique.
Sima Ryang obliged—not with Imperial Palace Martial Academy moves, but the 36 forms of Black Star Resolute Fist he'd learned from his family.
Tae-seong was shocked by how crude it was.
It was worse than the random manuals rolling around the secret sub-branch training hall from his Demonic Cult days.
And this was from the Black Star Sect, a sect with some renown in unorthodox circles.
Black Star Resolute Fist was barely better than the Three Talents Sword, the most basic sword form known across the martial world.
Tae-seong guessed it was the beginner stuff they taught collateral disciples.
His guess was spot on. Sima Ryang gave a wry smile and confessed the truth.
He'd never even glimpsed the techniques his main family practiced.
"No way. Even for a bastard, that's too much."
Furious, Tae-seong demanded the full oral formula for Black Star Resolute Fist.
Asking for a technique's formula was a grave breach of etiquette in the martial world. But since Black Star Resolute Fist was low-tier stuff sold for cash to anyone, Sima Ryang recited it without complaint.
Tae-seong listened, then ruthlessly cut out the useless moves, leaving just 16 forms.
He filled the gaps with boxing, Muay Thai, and Taekwondo techniques. Thus, a brand-new Black Star Resolute Fist was born.
Down to 26 forms, but far more concise. Punches and kicks now shot out in straight lines.
He boldly added knee strikes, low kicks, elbow smashes—moves utterly alien to Central Plains martial arts.
The result? Something like Jeet Kune Do mixed with kickboxing—an esoteric hybrid.
Sima Ryang diligently practiced the forms Tae-seong taught, thrilled with the reborn Black Star Resolute Fist's power.
Stripped of fluff, it was simple, fast, and devastating.
Just like modern MMA.
Sima Ryang honed it on the crude sandbag I'd made for him until it was in tatters.
This was the world debut of the new Black Star Resolute Fist.
Eyeing Sima Ryang's bizarre ready stance, Chu O-gyeom asked.
"Never seen that move before. Imperial Palace martial art?"
"Nope."
"Black Star Sect technique, then?"
"Nope."
"Then what the hell is it?"
"Beat me and find out."
"You little shit! I'll make you feel the gap between us all over again!"
Teasing his old tormentor felt good—like some of the old grudges melting away.
Suddenly, Chu O-gyeom launched himself at Sima Ryang.
"Hah! Dragon Fang Ghost Claw Technique!"
His nails carved ten trails through the air as he charged.
Sima Ryang dodged by swaying his head and torso left and right.
Weaving and ducking, as Tae-seong had taught him.
Evading with minimal motion, Sima Ryang unleashed the first form of Black Star Resolute Fist.
"Black Star Resolute Fist! Thunderclap Strike!"