Chapter 123
Wang In-hwa's withered skin now pulsed with vitality, and his eyes brimmed with spiritual energy as he unleashed his internal power.
Not only that, but his once emaciated body had swelled with muscle.
A martial art that transforms one's musculature and physique. Just as the Masked Man had anticipated, he was learning advanced external martial arts.
Crack!
The Grand Master unleashed another fist technique swift as lightning.
Yet Wang In-hwa did not strike back—instead, he advanced forward.
Thud.
When the razor-sharp fist struck Wang In-hwa's body, it was the Grand Master who staggered back several steps.
"Arhat Qi Cultivation Art?"
A glint of surprise flashed in the Grand Master's hawk-like eyes.
Every time a blow landed on Wang In-hwa's body, a powerful counter-elastic force surged forth. It bore an uncanny resemblance to the Shaolin Sect's external martial art, the Arhat Qi Cultivation Art.
"Take this!"
Having withstood the fierce fist technique with his body, Wang In-hwa finally drew his treasured sword and unleashed his sword technique.
Swish!
The Heaven-Shaking Sword Art of the Heaven-Shaking Gate was not known for overwhelming might, but rather for its rock-solid stability and precision.
Finding no openings in the sword strokes, the Grand Master employed footwork to evade them.
Yet Wang In-hwa's Heaven-Shaking Sword moved like a living serpent, coiling and striking at the Grand Master's body with eerie agility.
At that, the Grand Master's eyes—which had been focused on his footwork—flashed. Simultaneously, an intense wind coalesced around his fist.
Whoosh!
Instead of dodging the torrent of Wang In-hwa's sword strokes, he aligned both hands and thrust forward with a single fist.
The motion resembled not a fist technique, but the extension of an invisible spear.
Thud-thud-thud!
Amidst the sound of vibrations, Wang In-hwa's body was forced back several steps.
The Grand Master's relentless fist energy struck him again and again in rapid succession.
"Hmph."
Despite the barrage of blows, Wang In-hwa curled his lips in a cold sneer.
"Your fist techniques are useless."
With a sharp shhk-shhk, Wang In-hwa unleashed another flurry of razor-edged sword strokes.
The Grand Master continued evading with his footwork, yet his fists found their mark time and again.
After twenty or so moves of this exchange, Wang In-hwa's brow—which had remained composed—twitched faintly.
The Grand Master's fist techniques vibrated upon impact, striking like a hammer against a bronze bell, sending powerful tremors through his body.
"Tch."
Wang In-hwa's expression finally contorted in pain.
No matter how indestructible one's external martial arts, the human body's interior remained filled with soft organs and blood.
Enduring such violently vibrating fist techniques in succession would inevitably lead to severe internal injuries.
Thud!
Another strike landed, and blood gushed from Wang In-hwa's throat.
I must not vomit blood.
He forced himself to swallow it back using his internal energy. But the more he resisted, the more his solar plexus throbbed, and the strength drained from his limbs.
So I've sustained internal injuries after all.
"Guh—cough!"
Finally, Wang In-hwa convulsed and spat out a mouthful of crimson blood.
Though clad in formidable external arts, his physical body could no longer endure the Grand Master's fist techniques.
"Ugh..."
Blood dripping from his lips, Wang In-hwa lowered his head.
"...I've lost."
As he conceded defeat, the Grand Master gazed down at him impassively before slowly turning away.
—Cheeers!
A triumphant roar erupted from the Blade Tyrant Gate's faction.
With the Heaven-Shaking Gate's Sect Leader defeated, the scales of victory had tipped decisively in the Blade Tyrant Gate's favor.
Struggling to rise, Wang In-hwa stared at the distant sky.
"Is this the will of heaven...?"
Within the Heaven-Shaking Gate, only the three leaders of the Heaven, Earth, and Humanity banners could rival a master of the Grand Master's caliber.
Reading his thoughts, Gwak Cheon—despite his own injuries—stepped forward and declared loudly:
"Sect Leader. Do not worry. I will go next."
"Wait."
Just then, a young man stepped in front of Wang In-hwa. It was Bu Eun-seol.
"I'll take the next match."
Wang In-hwa and Gwak Cheon blinked in surprise at his sudden appearance.
Had he even passed twenty yet?
Clad in plain gray martial attire with a rusted sword strapped to his back, he looked no different from a common wanderer—neither more nor less.
Wang In-hwa sighed deeply as he studied Bu Eun-seol.
"This duel determines the fate of our sect."
He forced a bitter smile.
"How could an outsider, not even a disciple of our sect, step forward for such a battle? Step aside."
Wang In-hwa assumed the young wanderer was merely driven by ambition, eager to flaunt his martial prowess.
"That man isn't a Blade Tyrant Gate disciple either," Bu Eun-seol said, pointing at the Grand Master.
Wang In-hwa shook his head.
"That's only possible because the Blade Tyrant Sect Leader's face is as thick as iron. Our sect has no intention of fielding outsiders."
But then Mun Gwang, still recovering from his injuries, staggered forward.
"Sect Leader. Let him go."
"What?"
"He is the finest among the Wanderer Corps—no, a martial artist whose prowess surpasses even mine."
Wang In-hwa couldn't believe his ears.
"No matter how exceptional his martial arts may be, this young man is at best a high-level wanderer. With such skills, he could never defeat a grandmaster."
"Unit Leader Mun. Collect yourself. How could we possibly send an outsider for the final decisive match?"
As Gwak Cheon also shook his head gravely, Mun Gwang pleaded with desperate eyes.
"Unit Leader Cheon. Please trust me. Have I ever spoken nonsense before?"
At Mun Gwang's earnest words, Wang In-hwa and Gwak Cheon exchanged glances before falling into contemplative silence.
Mun Gwang had risked his life defending the Heaven-Shaking Gate until now—a loyal retainer through and through.
Moreover, no matter who stepped forward, the probability of defeating the grandmaster remained nonexistent... The situation was equally dire either way.
"Very well. Permission granted."
Without so much as a reply, Bu Eun-seol stepped forward at Wang In-hwa's words.
Then he flicked his fingers at the grandmaster.
The grandmaster's brow furrowed at the sight.
Such an attitude was the arrogant behavior only displayed by those of far higher status or peerless masters.
"Hmph."
With a short scoff, the grandmaster launched a single fist toward Bu Eun-seol.
It was the same bizarre vibrating fist technique that had defeated Wang In-hwa earlier.
"'White Splitting Fist,' is it?"
Bu Eun-seol's eyes flashed as he lightly evaded the strike.
"No—alternating between 'Flipping Fist' and 'White Splitting Fist.'"
Though he had only mastered the first four forms of the Seven Forms of the Fist Demon, those forms contained all the foundational techniques underlying fist arts.
In other words, Bu Eun-seol was versed in every fist technique scattered across the martial world.
"You seem somewhat knowledgeable about fist techniques."
As the grandmaster scoffed, Bu Eun-seol curled his lips into a faint smile.
"I also know how to deploy them."
With a light flick of his sleeve, Bu Eun-seol extended his fist in a casual strike.
That single punch was utterly ordinary. Devoid of any might or variation.
Yet it was swift enough to split lightning midair—instantly intercepting the grandmaster's follow-up attack.
Precisely the same flipping technique the grandmaster had used against Wang In-hwa.
"...!"
The grandmaster's eyebrow twitched as Bu Eun-seol replicated his technique on the spot.
He had just realized Bu Eun-seol was no ordinary master—but one with genuine expertise in fist arts.
"Haap!"
With a sharp exhale, the grandmaster unleashed dozens of fist shadows in a single strike, as if to say, Let's see you copy this.
He had employed the ultimate form of White Splitting Fist—impossible to replicate.
"How naive."
As the grandmaster flaunted his technique, a threadlike smile curled at Bu Eun-seol's lips.
In a life-or-death match, emotions were a luxury. The only priority was finding the enemy's opening and delivering the precise counter at the perfect moment.
"The instant you lose your calm, the match is over."
When Bu Eun-seol retreated with a mocking smirk, the grandmaster's eyes blazed.
"Hmph! Cunning can never surpass speed!"
Bam bam bam bam!
The grandmaster's White Splitting Fist twisted midair once more, enveloping Bu Eun-seol's entire body.
No matter how fast he moved, there was nowhere left to dodge.
"But speed cannot overcome weight."
As Bu Eun-seol observed the cascading fists, heat haze flickered like flames around his own fist.
He was finally preparing to use the Seven Forms of the Fist Demon.
Whoom.
With a light extension of his fist, the earth trembled—and every shadow of the White Splitting Fist vanished as if washed away.
Simultaneously, Bu Eun-seol's punch pierced the grandmaster's chest. A flawless execution of the Fist Demon's Initial Manifestation.
"Ghk—!"
The grandmaster tried to block, but Bu Eun-seol's fist energy had already reached his body.
Whoom.
In an instant, the grandmaster collapsed face-first.
The moment Bu Eun-seol's devastating strike connected, an eerie force yanked his body forward mid-fall.
Among all fist techniques under heaven, only the Seven Forms of the Fist Demon—capable of freely manipulating fist energy—could achieve such a feat.
"Ugh—!"
The grandmaster's face turned deathly pale as he knelt and vomited a mass of blood.
"Urgh..."
He forced himself up, only to collapse onto his knees again.
Having failed to block even a single strike from Bu Eun-seol, he now suffered profound internal injuries.
"Hm."
Bu Eun-seol glanced down at him once before turning away without a word, returning to the Heaven-Shaking Gate's ranks.
—Cheeers!
This time, deafening cheers erupted from the Heaven-Shaking Gate's side.
They had seized victory from a match everyone believed unwinnable.
In contrast, tension rippled through the Blade Tyrant Gate's ranks.
The final match. The outcome would determine which sect would be forced to abandon the Sangyang Region entirely.
"Damn it all..."
Gwan Dok-gun trembled as he witnessed the master's defeat.
The martial prowess Bu Eun-seol had displayed bordered on grandmaster level—far beyond what the leader of some backwater sect fighting for dominance in the Sangyang region could hope to match.
Just as he stood paralyzed with indecision, the Masked Man stepped forward.
"Leave this one to me."
Gwan Dok-gun's face instantly brightened.
If his subordinate, the master, possessed such skill, then the Masked Man's abilities must naturally surpass even that.
"Will you truly take care of this?"
Any other sect leader would have declined at least once to preserve their pride.
But Gwan Dok-gun's face might as well have been made of iron. Without the slightest hesitation, he practically ushered the Masked Man forward like a waiter.
"Very well, then. I leave it to you."
The Masked Man didn't even glance at Gwan Dok-gun as he stepped indifferently toward Bu Eun-seol.
"A wanderer," he said coldly, looking down at Bu Eun-seol.
"With skills like yours, there's no way you wouldn't be known by name. You must be hiding your true identity."
Then, with a light laugh, he flicked his fingers.
Bu Eun-seol observed him for a moment before instantly unfolding his fist technique.
Whoosh!
In response, the Masked Man's waist bent slightly, as if struck by a typhoon.
The Seven Forms of the Fist Demon is both ferocious and subtle, as light as the wind yet as destructive as lightning.
Moreover, because it encompasses all variations of fist techniques in the martial world, its fist energy can be shifted freely.
Right now, it might seem like Bu Eun-seol had thrown a straight punch—but in truth, he had struck from the side.
"Hmph."
Yet the Masked Man twisted his body lightly, as if he had already anticipated Bu Eun-seol's move, and dodged.
But the fist energy didn't dissipate. Instead, it clung to him like a specter, aiming for the Life Gate Acupoint on his back.
"Oh?"
The Masked Man let out a soft exclamation, his eyes flashing as he thrust out a hand.
Pat.
A short shockwave rippled outward, halting Bu Eun-seol's fist energy in its tracks—as if it had crashed into a colossal wall.
"...!"
For the first time since mastering the Seven Forms of the Fist Demon, Bu Eun-seol's eyebrow twitched upward.
Someone had just effortlessly blocked it.
Whoosh!
As Bu Eun-seol unleashed his fist technique again, a deafening explosion tore through the air like cannonfire, crashing toward the Masked Man's front.
This time, he had poured Third Achievement Level of internal energy into the Fist Demon Initial Manifestation, a move he had always used lightly before.
The strike was too fast, and the range of its fist energy too wide—the Masked Man had no room to evade.
Snap!
But in that instant, the Masked Man's fingers shot out like lightning.
BOOM!
When fist met fingers, a massive shockwave erupted in concentric circles, rippling outward.
'A claw art?'
Unbelievably, the Masked Man had blocked Bu Eun-seol's punch with a single finger.
How could a strike capable of shattering thick boulders in one blow be stopped by nothing more than a finger?
Not only that—his claw art seemed uniquely powerful, with a crimson heat haze rising from the tip of his fingernail.
"An impressive fist technique," the Masked Man mused, narrowing his eyes as if savoring the force behind Bu Eun-seol's strike.
"At first glance, it appears to be a purely ferocious external fist technique, yet its essence resembles the Cotton Palm of the Wudang Sect—an internal technique."
Muttering under his breath, the Masked Man curled three fingers like talons, as if executing the Dragon Claw Art of the Shaolin Sect.
Then, in a flash, he closed the distance and swung his fingers.
Swiish!
A glow sharper than sword qi erupted from his fingertips as they sliced through the air.
With every crimson swipe, strands of Bu Eun-seol's hair, which had been swept upward, fell like rain.
'Fast.'
No matter how exceptional the Seven Forms of the Fist Demon was, Bu Eun-seol had only trained in it for a short time.
But the Masked Man wielded his claw art as if he had honed it for decades—his martial forms flowing seamlessly between execution and retraction.
Swish-swish-swish!
As his stance shifted again, the Masked Man's hand became a dragon weaving through the sky, coiling around Bu Eun-seol's body.
Unfazed, Bu Eun-seol deployed Ultimate Speed Shadowless, evading while widening the gap between them.
'Had I not experienced Jeong Cheon's Chaos Sword, I wouldn't have been able to dodge that.'
Bu Eun-seol had already fought Jeong Cheon—a master of the Chaos Sword—in a brutal close-quarters battle.
Without that experience, he would have already suffered grave injuries from the Masked Man's claw art.
"Your movements are quick. But—"
The Masked Man's voice was icy as he unleashed his claw art.
"Once my claw art is in motion, there's nowhere left for you to run."
His strikes sealed off Bu Eun-seol's surroundings like a crimson storm, while an overwhelming pressure weighed down on his entire body, hindering his evasion.
'His claw art even predicts my dodges.'
As time passed, cuts—both large and small—began to appear on Bu Eun-seol's body.
The Masked Man's martial forms were even faster than Jeong Cheon's Chaos Sword, which Bu Eun-seol had faced before.
'Strong.'
Even in this dire situation, Bu Eun-seol's heart raced.
The Masked Man's skill was likely on par with Jeong Cheon's—which meant this was another chance to clash at full strength.
'Then—!'
Taking a deep breath, Bu Eun-seol violently raised the Reverse Polarity True Qi circulating within him.
CRACK!
As he elevated his internal energy beyond the Seven Stars, his pupils dilated, and a strange light exploded from them.
Until now, Bu Eun-seol had never infused his fist techniques with internal power exceeding the Third Achievement Level.
The Seven Forms of the Fist Demon was simply too destructive.
But at last, he had met an opponent worthy of unleashing this peerless fist art without restraint.