Chapter 173
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 173
Chapter Title: Thunderbolt Divine Fist
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Yoo Jeong steadied his ragged breathing.
“Hoo.”
He never imagined there could be anyone besides Ma Seong-gyun who could push him this hard.
‘And he’s not even younger than me.’
When he first learned the Taiji Twin Shadow Sword, he thought no one his age could match him.
But upon first seeing Ma Seong-gyun, he realized his own arrogance, and afterward, he shut himself away in secluded training to defeat him.
And as a result, he finally received his master’s permission to use the Taiji Twin Shadow Sword.
It was such a finicky sword art that a single mistake could injure the user instead.
That was why there was a strict rule against using it in real combat until reaching a certain level.
‘I thought this would be enough to go toe-to-toe with the Volcanic Sword Prodigy.’
Yet here he was, struggling against an unexpected foe.
‘He’s strong.’
He’d nearly dropped his sword countless times. Hwang Bo-young’s fists were that heavy and fierce.
Unbidden, his gaze flicked toward Seol Hwa-un in the VIP seats.
‘Was the North Heaven Dragon this skilled at that age?’
No. Three years ago, he had already crushed the Blood Yin Four Armies, so he must have been far stronger.
‘Thinking about it that way, a monster really is a monster.’
Hwang Bo-young was impressive enough, but someone even greater than him.
‘This isn’t the time for idle thoughts. Focus.’
Yoo Jeong refocused on Hwang Bo-young.
‘Still, victory will be mine.’
He prepared to unleash the most powerful technique from the Taiji Twin Shadow Sword forms he had mastered.
‘I never thought I’d use it against someone other than the Volcanic Sword Prodigy...’
Hwang Bo-young also instinctively knew the next exchange would decide the fight.
‘Wudang is no pushover.’
His fist aura had nearly shattered several times. Any ordinary later-generation expert would have panicked and lost their rhythm.
‘But compared to the real-combat spars back home, this is nothing.’
The Huangbo Family had poured all its resources into Hwang Bo-young.
It wasn’t just elixirs and training—they had summoned countless warriors to give him brutal, battle-like spars.
Among them was even Shin Mu-yeol, the Thousand Hands Swordsman famed as Hunan’s First Sword.
Hwang Bo-young had danced on the edge of death against his blade many times.
It was excessively harsh for training the family heir, but Family Head Hwang Bo-tae-neung had absolute faith that he could handle it.
That was why, now facing the final clash, Hwang Bo-young’s eyes were cooler than ever.
“......”
In a way, it was only natural. No matter how talented a later-generation disciple, none could surpass the Thousand Hands Swordsman.
At that moment, Yoo Jeong’s twin swords finally stirred.
‘Thunderclap Divine Fist.’
At the same time, Hwang Bo-young’s profound inner energy surged into his fist.
Wooong!
The two swords danced dazzlingly, weaving countless sword shadows.
Shoosh-shoosh-shoosh!
Astonishingly, each shadow traced circles of varying sizes.
Those circles soon filled Hwang Bo-young’s entire field of vision.
Papapapapapa!
It was an utterly overwhelming sight.
Hwang Bo-young thrust his fist forward as if he’d been waiting.
‘Thunderbolt Steel Breaker!’
Kwaaaaang!
Crack-crack-crack!
A massive explosion roared, and the arena floor split open once more. It was hard to believe this was a clash between later-generation disciples.
“Keok!”
Soon, one fighter spat blood and staggered back.
Someone gasped upon recognizing him.
“Ah!”
It was Yoo Jeong, his face pale. Hwang Bo-young, by contrast, showed only faint signs of being pushed back—otherwise unscathed.
Hwang Bo-young spoke calmly.
“Shall we continue?”
Yoo Jeong gave a wry smile.
“Immeasurable blessings. I concede defeat.”
Hwang Bo-young offered a faint smile.
“A fine match.”
Master Feng Jin stood for once and declared,
“With Yoo Jeong’s concession, Hwang Bo-young is the victor!”
The crowd, which had held its breath throughout, erupted in cheers.
Waaaaah!
“Unbelievable! This is a later-generation showdown?!”
“Heh, look at that arena made of azure steel stone—shattered! To see a fight like this at the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly!”
“One thing’s clear: both were top contenders, and now Hwang Bo-young is the frontrunner!”
Amid the frenzy, the VIP seats remained subdued.
Those not in on the bet knew the situation and stayed silent to avoid blame, while the betting elders were too shocked to speak.
But the greatest shock belonged to Seo Hong-rak, who had led the betting.
‘N-No way!’
The elders who’d trusted his word were already on the verge of fury.
Elder Ha Eun rose from his seat.
“Heh heh, what a splendid match. Now that we have a winner, time to hand over the prize.”
Shocked, Seo Hong-rak called out desperately.
“E-Elder! W-Wait...!”
Ha Eun’s eyes turned icy.
“Hm? Surely the Kunlun elder isn’t thinking of reneging?”
“Well...”
Ha Eun was the highest-ranking active martial artist around. Even a veteran sect elder couldn’t treat him lightly.
Ignoring Seo Hong-rak, he approached Seol Hwa-un directly.
“You’re the betting winner, young man. Congratulations, North Heaven Dragon.”
“Thank you.”
Seol Hwa-un accepted the bill of exchange Ha Eun offered. The watching elders writhed inwardly but could do nothing.
“......”
As Seol Hwa-un moved to pocket the bill, he paused.
“I recall hearing the Yellow River flooded last summer, leaving many disaster victims.”
Ha Eun’s expression soured.
“Indeed.”
He had personally supported them with aid and resources—tens of thousands affected.
“The recovery isn’t even complete yet... This winter worries me.”
Hearing his concerned words, Seol Hwa-un held out the 2,000-nyang bill.
“Easily earned money—best used for good. Please put it toward the victims, Elder.”
Ha Eun’s eyes widened.
“...You’re sure?”
It was a massive sum—2,000 nyang of silver, not lightly given.
“Of course. A hundred nyang covers my betting winnings.”
“Heh heh heh! I’ve heard tales of the North Heaven Dragon’s righteousness, but seeing is believing! A true hero!”
“No need for such words.”
Those in the VIP seats watching this exchange shifted their gazes.
Some had favored Seol Hwa-un before, but just as many harbored grudges.
Yet now, even they looked at him with newfound respect.
‘Handing over that fortune without hesitation?’
‘His magnanimity is something else.’
It wouldn’t change views overnight, but it was enough to make them reconsider.
Seol Hwa-un turned to Master Feng Jin and Mo Yong-yang.
“Free money means a fine feast on me. Care to join?”
“Heh heh, sounds good.”
The trio left the arena. Meanwhile, Seo Hong-rak’s rage toward Seol Hwa-un only grew.
‘North Heaven Dragon, you bastard!!’
* * *
The third day of the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly finals dawned.
The arena had been repaired spotlessly, as if nothing had happened.
The first quarterfinal pitted Volcanic Sword Prodigy Ma Seong-gyun against rising star Mun I-cheon of the unknown sect.
Predictably, most favored Ma Seong-gyun.
“The Volcanic Sword Prodigy’s been a top pick since before the assembly. Outcome’s obvious.”
“Yeah, no need to watch.”
But some hoped for Mun I-cheon’s upset.
“We’ll see when they clash. Check his bracket—all tough foes, and he beat them all.”
“Heh, the Volcanic Sword Prodigy’s still superior.”
“Underestimate Mun I-cheon, even if you’re the prodigy, and you’ll regret it.”
As the crowd buzzed, Mun I-cheon and Ma Seong-gyun mounted the arena.
Seol Hwa-un’s eyes, naturally, were on Mun I-cheon.
‘Hm. Tenser than yesterday.’
Given the opponent, it was understandable.
‘A league above anyone he’s faced. Come on, Mun I-cheon—how will you handle the Volcanic Sword Prodigy?’
Mun I-cheon’s tension stemmed beyond just the name.
When facing Paeng So-yeon in the round of eight, he’d anticipated her style, tendencies, and counters.
That let him win relatively easily.
But Ma Seong-gyun defied such analysis.
‘...No openings.’
He’d replayed spars with Jin Pyo and even Jeong Hye in his mind countless times, yet nothing countered Ma Seong-gyun within his abilities.
‘No choice. Meet him with my full strength!’
He didn’t think his skill lagged behind.
‘I’ll win! Then take the finals and the title!’
Having come this far, ambition burned bright.
Ma Seong-gyun, meanwhile, stayed calm. He didn’t underestimate or grow lax just because Mun hailed from an obscure sect.
‘He made the final four. Can’t take him lightly.’
At the start signal, both drew their swords almost simultaneously.
Seol Hwa-un’s eyes gleamed.
‘Ho.’
Their stances were polar opposites.
Mun I-cheon extended his wooden sword in an ultra-aggressive thrust-ready pose, while Ma Seong-gyun held his upright, primed to defend any assault.
Their mindsets laid bare.
Seol Hwa-un nodded.
‘Wise choices both. The underdog Mun must press the attack; Ma has no need to overreach.’
In that instant, Mun I-cheon’s form shot forward like a spring.
Paat!
‘Fast!’
Always nimble, he was even quicker now.
‘Improved again?’
He was a world away from his prelim self.
‘Genius is genius.’
Shuaak!
A sharp swift sword targeted Ma Seong-gyun’s sword hand—the trickiest spot from a defensive stance.
‘Good strike. But...’
Ma Seong-gyun casually dropped his sword tip, then intercepted the wooden blade.
Chaang!
‘At his level, it’s not hard to block.’
“Ugh.”
Outmatched in power, Mun I-cheon stumbled back. Ma Seong-gyun wouldn’t miss the opening.
Switching seamlessly to offense, he unleashed a barrage.
Shoosh-shoosh-shoosh!
Chaeng-chaeng-chang!
Startled, Mun blocked with his wooden sword but yielded ground relentlessly.
‘Kuh, strong!’
The force in Ma’s strikes was unlike anything Mun had felt.
‘So this is the Volcanic Sword Prodigy’s might.’
Experiencing it firsthand, he understood the hype.
Ma Seong-gyun loomed huge in Mun’s eyes, an oppressive presence.
“......!”
But Mun I-cheon wasn’t one to cower.
‘No matter how strong... I’ll win!’
Gritting his teeth, Mun’s sword path transformed.
Shoosh-shoosh!
Seol Hwa-un’s eyes widened watching.
‘That’s...’