Chapter 109: Dragon, Phoenix, and Tiger (7)
Chapter 109: Dragon, Phoenix, and Tiger (7)
The World’s Conclusion. It was a term far too arrogant for those of the younger generation to utter.
Yet, the eyes of the crowd spectating the Martial Alliance’s Dragon-Phoenix Gathering today did not see it that way.
And rightfully so.
The two men standing below were the descendants of the current Three Venerables of the World. Given their temperaments and realms, it would not be an exaggeration to discuss them as the future Three Venerables themselves.
They were individuals who, under normal circumstances, should never have crossed paths.
A Buddhist disciple who rarely stepped beyond the gates of Shaolin on Mount Song, and a direct descendant of the Black Path who seldom ventured outside the territories of Hebei, were now exchanging opening moves.
Thus, this was a proxy war between the Three Venerables.
It was a prelude to the clash of those who would reach the pinnacle of the Three Venerables in the near future.
How could one call it arrogant to speak of the "world" in a duel between such men?
In an era where the boundary between the Orthodox and the Unorthodox was clearer than ever, such a fierce battle was a sight rarely seen even once in sixty years.
—Waaaaaaaah!
The crowd in the spectator seats erupted in a simultaneous roar, rising to their feet.
The falling snowflakes scattered as if caught in a storm’s surge.
The Little Arhat awakened his Middle Dantian the moment the duel began.
Thump, thump, thump. His heartbeat resonated clearly, like the tolling of a temple bell.
The snow settling on his shoulders shattered and dispersed of its own accord.
At the same time, I raised my gauntlets and struck the acupoints over my heart.
My side couldn't perform such beautiful techniques.
My method was crude and violent—slapping the cheek of the unprepared Middle Dantian to force it awake.
Consequently, the enraged Middle Dantian scorched my heart.
Internal energy, transformed into astral energy, surged up, tearing through the inner walls of my acupoints.
Crackle, crackle. Thunderbolts scattered from my entire body in sync with my heartbeat.
With that, the preparations were complete. Our eyes met.
"I shall not stay my hand."
The Little Arhat closed the distance in an instant, his fist flying straight for my head. It was a clear killing move.
I couldn't laugh this off as a mere sparring match. I felt a will that intended to kill me if I failed to block.
It wasn't exactly bloodlust, but rather Pasa Hyeonjeong—crushing evil to reveal the truth. Yet, it was a strike closer to Myeolma—the extermination of demons—than mere guidance.
—Kwang!!
I deflected it with my gauntlet. Both our hands were thrown back significantly.
"My family doesn't teach the concept of staying one's hand either."
"Haha, that family tradition is quite famous. Very well, then."
The Little Arhat’s thick brow furrowed. His appearance was like the original statue of a Vajrapani.
It was a ferocity too upright to be called evil.
My face, reflected in his eyes, was different.
My eyes, burning blue with focused vision, and my distorted features showed the exact opposite attitude.
It was a ferocity akin to a tiger or a wolf.
That expression was naturally melting into this moment, accessed through the Peak Realm.
The nature of the Peng family, embedded in my blood.
I couldn't tell if my heart was pounding so wildly because of the Middle Dantian or because of excitement.
However, in this close proximity where we could see into each other's pupils, if there was one thing we shared...
"Do not hide your techniques."
"You neither."
It was that we were both smiling.
Beaming. Even in the moment we were driving killing moves into each other, we felt a sensation we ourselves couldn't comprehend.
—Paaaaang!
Lightning scorched the lotus.
"Should we not stop them?"
The Alliance Leader glanced at the martial artists of the Strategist’s Hall, who were whispering urgently.
They seemed terrified by the Alliance Leader’s composed expression.
"It will not end easily if either of them is harmed. If the Little Arhat is defeated, the Alliance’s prestige will plummet to the ground; and if that Peng boy happens to die, it will escalate into a full-scale Righteous-Demonic War!"
"Then would you like to try and stop them?"
"How could we possibly...!"
"Indeed, how could you?"
The Alliance Leader looked at the stage with warm eyes.
The crowd was already screaming in a frenzy, watching the scene.
Since the inauguration of the Alliance and the inception of the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, there had never been such a magnificent spectacle.
But it wasn't just that. He was a master who had reached the Peerless Realm, and to him, finer details were visible that others missed.
Like that. So much so.
How could one stop those who were engaging with such joy?
They were both smiling with faces contorted, and even as they drove fists into each other's bodies, they were fighting with mad laughter instead of pain.
A duel (Bimu) is, by definition, the comparing (Bi) of martial arts (Mu). If so, perhaps this was the purest form of a duel?
A martial art where they revealed all their talents without reservation, ignored the gaze of the world, and fully utilized even the secret techniques they had hidden as life-saving moves.
It was the summation of the martial arts they had built. Whatever direction it took, it was the purest logic of martial power.
No martial artist who had walked that long, lonely path before them would dare to stop that duel.
"Leave them be. How can one manage a dragon that is rising of its own accord by trying to cage it with two hands?"
The Dragon-Phoenix Gathering is not a festival to pick and boast about the most outstanding among the rising stars of the era.
It should rightfully be a banquet for the dragons and phoenixes who have finally prepared for their ascension through long, arduous cultivation.
So, how could one place shackles on an Imugi about to cross the Dragon’s Gate?
Time warped slowly. This sensation was something I could never get used to, no matter how many times I experienced it.
The internal energy flowing through the Lower Dantian drew constellations along the acupoints.
When it draws an accurate Heavenly Bow Diagram, martial artists call it a martial technique.
But the energy flowing through the Middle Dantian was different.
It erupted through the blood vessels of every part of the body along with the pulsation of the heart.
It didn't complete a martial technique through acupoints.
It was to make the utilization of the body most suitable for martial arts, to lead the martial studies that had stopped at the limits of the human body to the next level.
By making one perform actions a human shouldn't be able to do.
Finally, the Astral Energy Skill.
When one reaches this sense of time, having surpassed the limits of humanity, the horizon of martial arts finally opens.
It was far and high. I could only now truly feel why it was compared to mountains or the heavens.
The limit of growth that had stalled due to the oversaturation of the Lower Dantian was released.
Even the highest peaks defined by the human body seemed like mere hills from this vantage point.
If one crossed that limit, such a vast world unfolded.
In between, before the infinite climb where one could not discuss the end even after a lifetime of research. Standing before this massive cliff. Before the limits of the human body where some howl, some give up, and others just knock endlessly.
"Ha, haha!"
I felt freedom. I finally realized my own meaning.
It wasn't that I couldn't go further; I realized that the fear of losing my way if I went further had been the shackle wrapped around my ankles.
I was still incomplete. My martial arts were not yet sufficiently polished. Therefore...
Refine more, practice more, and finally, when all preparations are complete, ascend. That would be proper.
Such teachings were wrapped around my entire body. Every time I moved, a pain as if my acupoints were tearing apart assailed me. If I were to name this pain, it would be this:
Fear.
Once I recognized it, laughter burst out.
"It was this wide and this high."
They say the Peak Realm is the wall for commoners.
Then what should the realm beyond the Peak be called?
If I were to name the horizon beyond, which only geniuses of a thousand years could reach...
I could feel the fear and despair that those who earned the right to reach this place must have felt.
I could feel the emotions that those who were always praised as geniuses throughout their lives felt as they looked upon this realm.
It was terror. The fear of realizing that one was nothing more than a tiny creature beneath this majestic canyon.
Beyond the thousand peaks covered in clouds, above that distant sky, this path toward the stars was a pilgrimage of suffering.
Even if one gave their all at every moment of walking, they couldn't be certain of even a single step.
Because they couldn't judge if their steps were moving straight at every moment, it was a long loneliness where one had to be their own lamp.
However.
In our family, there were quite a lot of martial artists in the Peak Realm. There was no need to even discuss my brothers. It didn't even have to be the direct lineage. Even just being a squad leader in any martial unit meant they were chosen from among those who had reached the Peak Realm.
I re-examined the meaning of how the Hunyuan Art, which was a mere introductory skill, and the Thunderbolt Art, taught immediately after the Hegemonic Blade Style, guaranteed the Peak Realm once both were mastered.
It didn't mean the Hunyuan Thunderbolt Blade was a peerless divine art.
It didn't mean that those who practiced martial arts with a gauntlet on their left hand and a saber in their right—the martial artists of the Hebei Peng Family—were peerless geniuses.
It was simply that they...
—Jjeeeeeng!
The chains wrapped around their ankles. The shackles called fear. They simply did not look at this vast territory of martial arts that was too high and wide.
We do not teach fear. That is how we were taught.
We do not teach that the vast logic of martial arts, which one cannot reach even after a lifetime of sprinting, is something to be feared.
We named this realm differently from the rest of the world.
Freedom.
We call the name of this long journey, where one cannot reach the end no matter which direction or how one runs, "Freedom."
Crackle, snap!
The chains break.
The shackles shatter.
The wind blows.
I see freedom.
I burst into laughter toward the end that might exist beyond that high firmament—or perhaps might not exist at all.
They say an Imugi soars after passing through the Dragon’s Gate.
That is why dragons are compared to carp and salmon.
They swim against the current, climb waterfalls, and volunteer for suffering to soar into the sky.
They say a phoenix soars into the nine-thousand-li sky after living as a Kun of the great ocean.
The legends of those two divine beasts both have the clear objective of the heavens.
That is why the most outstanding among those who climb toward martial arts are called Dragons and Phoenixes.
But we are not taught that way.
We do not fear treading upon the earth, nor do we define it as a limit.
Just as there is no end to the high heavens, we know that there is no end to the world of the Nine Provinces and the Four Seas.
We walk the earth. We run, wishing for freedom and enjoying this endless vastness.
Just because the direction is different doesn't mean it's the wrong path. No, in the long journey of martial arts, there is no such thing as a "wrong path" to begin with. Believing that, running like that...
The tiger roars.
"You have achieved Great Completion—!!"
The Little Arhat burst into a wide grin and swung his fist.
Peng Hyeon-hwi’s gauntlet, already in a state of selflessness, was deflecting the fist as if it were the most natural thing in the world, erupting with thunderbolts and mixing in counter-strikes.
It was a powerful fist that would crush one's entire body if even a single blow were allowed.
It was a physical strength that could never be said to be inferior to Shaolin’s boxing styles.
It was a fist clenched with the intent of the Hegemonic Way and the Heavens-Shattering will.
That was the meaning of a thunderbolt. A single strike that tears the sky to descend upon the earth.
The tiger, clad in lightning, was baring its fangs toward the throat of the one who would be called a dragon in this age.
In that attitude, the Little Arhat felt a sense of kinship instead of fear or wariness.
The journey of martial arts is so lonely; how could one endure even a single season without a friend?
With a thought truly unbecoming of a Buddhist, the Little Arhat’s fist fell toward Peng Hyeon-hwi’s chest.
This, too, contained a level of force that would mean instant death the moment a strike was permitted.
With all his heart.
Toward the truth.
I heard the sound of something in the back of my head shattering.
It wasn't that my body actually exploded, but a very familiar sensation—whether it was my mind or my soul—surged up.
It felt as if a refreshing breeze had completely cooled down my overheated brain.
A sense of lightheartedness lingered between my ragged breaths.
A brief lull followed. The Little Arhat and I stood three paces apart, taking our starting stances.
—Waaaaaaaah!
Finally, the cheers of the crowd pierced my eardrums.
Even if the duel ended right now, no one would voice a complaint.
The two of us had clearly shown the best we could offer.
However, could that "best" be our final limit? Was this our everything?
No. Absolutely not. The Little Arhat and I knew this, even without speaking.
So I placed my gauntlet over my heart again. Then, suddenly feeling that the Middle Dantian was already pounding, I lowered my hand.
"The Dragon-Phoenix Gathering is over, Patron Peng."
"I suppose so."
"Then, will you withdraw now?"
The festival would continue no longer. There were no rising stars who could show anything greater than what we had shown, the audience was already satisfied, and the Alliance had already flaunted its strength to the entire world.
Whatever the Zhuge Family’s scheme was, it had gone awry the moment the Little Arhat stepped forward himself.
They no longer had a way to kill me.
However, such trivial things didn't enter my mind right now.
Sssss...
I had just emerged from that slow world where time warped and distorted.
My entire body was gradually heating up to a dangerous degree, the scent of iron wafted from my breath, and smoke was rising from the blade I held.
But this wasn't my everything.
And this, likewise, wasn't his everything.
Will I withdraw now?
"Make me."
My saber rested on my shoulder once more.
Swaying with the attitude of a third-rate street thug, I stretched my legs and faced him head-on.
"Hah! Hahaha!!"
The Little Arhat roared with laughter and raised his fists. With an attitude truly unbecoming of a Buddhist.
"Use your ultimate technique."
"Make me use it."
"You'll have to. Or you'll regret it."
The Little Arhat chuckled and crouched down.
Simultaneously, the sound of drums echoed from both our skins.
Thump, thump, thump. No longer for the mere name of the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, but containing only the pure will to clash in martial arts.