The Heavenly Demon Plays Games (3)

A profound silence descended upon the training grounds. The Third Elder stood motionless in the very center of the arena.

“You may come. I shall exchange a few moves with you.”

“Very well.”

I checked the internal energy within my body. Hmm. At the very least, it was far too little. To think they had even adjusted the internal energy to match that of a child’s. Whoever designed this scene had been frighteningly thorough.

The Heavenly Demon Divine Art was domination itself. A martial art that crushed everything beneath an overwhelming power stronger than anyone else’s. It was a ferocious technique built on the premise that I was stronger than my opponent. Because of that, the Heavenly Demon Divine Art fundamentally demanded an enormous amount of internal energy from its user. This was precisely why so many of its practitioners had fallen to sorcery. Without relying on such things, they simply could not supply the energy the art required.

In my view, this body could not perfectly reproduce the Heavenly Demon Divine Art. I might manage an imitation, but two times would likely be my limit. So I had to face a martial elder of the Cult with this pathetic shell? How interesting.

It had been so long since I last fought from a position of disadvantage. If my memory served, the final time had been when I clashed with the Supreme Being of the Murim. That had been truly enjoyable. A single misstep meant the threat of death. That sense of crisis had made me feel truly alive.

I wondered if the Third Elder could recreate that feeling. What should I use for the first move? Since he had used fists, it only made sense for me to respond in kind. The moment I made up my mind and stepped forward, my body moved on its own.

The stamping of the foot was terrible. The transfer of power was garbage. The movement of my joints, the ripple of muscle—every single element was flawed. The result was less a proper strike and more something that could only be called a crude punch.

“Is this the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠level at which you request a spar?”

The Third Elder lightly caught my fist, raised an eyebrow, and let out a sigh. His expression was unsightly, but that wasn’t what mattered right now. What was this? Why wouldn’t my body obey my will? It didn’t seem like I had fallen victim to some bizarre sorcery. Could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠there be something within the game itself?

As I recalled the information about Apis that Enri had given me, one function came to mind. There had been something called the Correction System. Unlike people from the Murim, modern individuals were not accustomed to martial arts. To them, violence was something that should never be done, and learning it professionally could hardly be called a common hobby. If modern people were simply thrown into a VR world, could they truly enjoy the game? Of course not. That was why the Correction System had been created. It allowed them to execute martial techniques with the help of AI, regardless of their personal skill.

I had skimmed over the explanation since I intended to perform the arts myself, but I never imagined it would be applied by default. Goodness. How was I supposed to turn this off? Even in a disadvantaged state, facing the Third Elder with such sloppy technique would not be easy.

Yes. Let’s make some adjustments. To be specific, I would very much like to turn it off completely.

What was there to worry about? The hundred years I spent in the Murim were exactly the years I spent training in martial arts. Did the system truly believe I could not perform martial techniques without this kind of assistance? I ignored the warning, and a new window appeared.

“Are you not going to attack again?”

I answered the Third Elder’s provocation with a smile. The action I performed hadn’t changed much. The basics of throwing a punch were the same no matter who did it. Stamping the foot. Drawing the flow of power from the ground into the fist. The only thing that had changed was the precision of the movement.

Take the stamping of the foot, for example. The distance between the legs. Where the toes applied force. How the leg muscles moved. Every single detail was adjusted to fit the situation. In this case, since the Third Elder had openly declared he would receive my technique, I needed to unleash the maximum possible power.

Boom!

The Third Elder’s body was pushed back as he received my fist. I had struck with the intent to shatter him completely, yet this frail body could only manage this much.

“Impressive.”

“You’ll be even more impressed now.”

“Hmm. Then it is my turn.”

The distance that had been four steps away closed in a single bound. The Third Elder thrust out a fist while keeping one hand behind his back. It was a punch thrown without even taking a proper stance, yet the power contained within it was far from light.

I could not block it. If I tried to deflect it clumsily, my outstretched hand would surely be shattered. The gap in physical bodies and internal energy was simply too vast. In that case?

I would redirect it.

“Where did you learn the Daoist martial arts?”

“I did not learn them. I stole them.”

In the past, I had faced the one once called the greatest master of the Daoist sects and stolen his enlightenment. The Fist of Empty Clarity. A martial art that opposed brute force with softness and the interplay of substance and void. At its peak, it was a technique that could laugh even in the face of heaven’s wrath. Though the old Daoist who had used it had trembled pathetically before his own disciple’s fury, the art itself was still incredibly useful. The insights contained within it were not far behind even the Heavenly Demon Divine Art.

The Third Elder’s fist continued to graze empty air. Sensing something strange, he poured in more power, but the Fist of Empty Clarity could not be broken by raw strength alone. Eventually, a large opening appeared in the increasingly desperate Third Elder, and I seized that gap to deliver a heavy blow to his abdomen.

“You underestimated the Young Heavenly Demon.”

“Use your full strength. This body is not so frail.”

“Understood.”

The atmosphere of the training ground changed. The Third Elder had simply drawn internal energy from within his body, yet it felt as if the weight of the air had multiplied several times over. Now this was a fight worth having. Even under the Third Elder’s fierce gaze, I smiled.

The Third Elder was a warrior who had reached a high realm. He had long since surpassed the Peak Realm and was a supreme expert who had entered the middle stage of the Transcendence Realm. Even within the Heavenly Demon Cult, there were not many stronger than him. True to his skill, there was no flaw in his movements. However, there was one area where he stood out.

The Third Elder’s martial arts interpreted the Heavenly Demon Cult’s doctrine of domination as pure, overwhelming force. His techniques were endlessly heavy.

“I hope you do not place too much faith in the Daoist arts. Before overwhelming power, even softness loses all meaning.”

“You won’t know until you try, will you?”

It was coming. I opened my eyes wide and read the flow the Third Elder was about to unleash. The movement of his feet. The flex of his leg muscles. The recoil from his waist. The twist of his shoulder. The bend of his elbow. And the fist flying toward me. I saw the domination contained within it. Then I slipped my hand into that flow and twisted it.

The Third Elder’s fist shot past my temple and shattered the empty air. Through the fluttering strands of my hair, I saw his eyes drawing a sharp arc. I had succeeded in dismantling his punch, but I had no room to relax. Even though I had used a martial technique to evade the fist, my skin had still been torn. The Third Elder’s punch could rip a human apart with nothing but the sound of its passage through the air.

The flow still belonged to the Third Elder. His consecutive attacks continued. I responded by coating my arms with energy, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but my hands went numb from the impact. I could not drag this fight out for long. My body’s internal energy would run dry before I could find a gap in that man’s fists.

Was I truly supposed to defeat a Transcendence Realm warrior giving his all with a body that had not even reached the Second-class Realm? How amusing. My heart was racing. It had been so long since I faced such a challenge. Such danger.

No matter how I looked at it, I was still a martial artist. A madman of the Murim. A lunatic who wanted to prove his own martial arts. While continuing my defense, I checked the internal energy remaining inside me. It was pathetically little compared to what I once possessed, but it was enough for one strike. And for me, one strike was all I needed.

What did I require? Three steps to enter the Third Elder’s range. My brain spun rapidly. I simulated dozens of scenarios, then selected the most plausible path among them. Good. Let’s give it a try.

The moment I took one step forward, the Third Elder’s fist flew at me as if he had been waiting. My posture was unstable, but that was fine. I didn’t need to redirect everything. My skin tore open and blood sprayed into the air. A sharp pain etched itself into my brain. That was one step.

The Third Elder narrowed his eyes slightly and stamped his foot with enough force to pulverize the training ground floor. He intended to push me back with overwhelming power. What a cunning old man. He had read my intention with just one step. Well. It didn’t matter. Even if he had noticed what I was trying to do, all I had to do was push forward. That was the nature of the Heavenly Demon’s domination.

This punch was so massive it evoked the image of Mount Tai. Redirecting it without any cost was impossible. My calculations were swift. Instead of redirecting the Third Elder’s fist with my left arm, I struck it away. Surprised that softness could contain such power, the Third Elder let out a gasp. That was two steps. In exchange, my left wrist was broken, but that was a cheap price to pay.

As the distance closed, the Third Elder smiled and took one step back. However, it was not a retreat. It was preparation to acknowledge his opponent and display his ultimate technique.

“Try to withstand the Fist of Gold Wave as well!”

Gold Wave. The name given to him for having shattered the Vajra Indestructible Body of a Shaolin warrior. It was also the technique the Third Elder enjoyed using at decisive moments. And it was precisely this technique I had been aiming for.

Using great power naturally required preparation. The Third Elder’s Gold Wave was no exception. The preparation time was short, but if anticipated, it was a gap that could be fully exploited. I took the third step.

This was no ordinary step. It was one of the Heavenly Demon Divine Art techniques. A martial art that symbolized the Heavenly Demon’s ferocious domination.

Heavenly Demon Steps.

“How—!”

Because I lacked sufficient internal energy, the power was subtle. But it was more than enough to shatter the Third Elder’s preparation. His posture collapsed. The Third Elder hurriedly tried to circulate his energy to prepare for the attack, but it was too late. A fist drove into his undefended body. What it carried was the very will to split the world in two. It was not something a mere human could endure.

The Third Elder, who had been enduring the shock, was soon sent rolling across the floor like a wave crashing over him. He tried to rise again and again, but his body could no longer follow his will. Eventually, the Third Elder stopped moving.

I nudged his body over with my foot. His eyes were open, but he had merely fainted. He was still breathing.

…The moment I tried to lift my foot, a cheerful sound rang out along with a message.

A single hairpin fell into my hand. It was a black hairpin with a butterfly carved at its end. I blinked, then burst into laughter without realizing it.

Really now. I was dying to know who created this game. How could they possibly know about this?

The hairpin given as a reward was a precious item I had lost long ago. It was a gift from my mother, who had passed away before even a year had passed after I was reborn as the Heavenly Demon’s daughter. I had cherished it so dearly that I never once wore it, only to lose it in the end. Was this their way of saying they would give it to me if I spared the Third Elder?

Heh heh. I see. Very well, you brat. I cannot spill blood in front of Mother’s hairpin.

That aside, how was one supposed to wear a hairpin again? As far as I remembered, it was an accessory used to secure long hair. But right now my hair was a messy bob.

Ha. Damn it. Could I not adjust my appearance again?