Qi Arts Master Chapter 66
Tian Ailang gave the stranger a puzzled look when the man recognized him on sight.
The man's shout rang out. “I am Maeng Geon, the Beast King of the Southern Forest! Are you Tian Ailang, the Qi Arts Clan Lord?!”
Unlike the unorthodox fighters who had lunged at him without warning until now, Tian Ailang stepped forward from his group and channeled his internal energy into his voice as he replied.
“That's right. I am Tian Ailang, the Qi Arts Clan Lord! How do you know me?!”
Tian Ailang's shout, infused with true energy, echoed thunderously through the air.
Maeng Geon sensed the energy radiating from it and burst into hearty laughter. “Kahaha! What a deep, manly voice—perfect! I hear you're off to take down the Eight Trigrams Temple?”
Tian Ailang's eyebrow twitched. “How do you know that?”
Instead of answering, Maeng Geon drew closer to Tian Ailang.
Seeing this, Tian Ailang signaled his group to stay put and advanced to meet him.
As the distance shrank between them, their personal domains—the unique spatial awareness marking each warrior's attack and defense range—began to overlap, setting the air quivering.
Mastering one's personal domain was essential for any true expert. Only by grasping both your own reach and your opponent's could you land strikes and evade counters effectively. Yet even maintaining a perfect read amid constant motion was a challenge that tested peak masters.
The higher one's realm, the more it evolved beyond mere range awareness into dismantling the foe's domain entirely. Pull that off, and you trapped them within yours, seizing absolute dominance.
In the martial world, novices often misjudged each other's levels, sparking needless brawls. Experts rarely did—their personal domains told them everything without a single blade drawn. Invisible to the eye, these fields were extensions of inner energy, keenly felt by the perceptive. If your domain went unnoticed, you knew they were inferior; if they pierced yours undetected, the reverse held true.
Here, Maeng Geon had brazenly extended his toward the approaching Tian Ailang, its intensity demanding respect. Tian Ailang met it head-on without flinching. Their domains clashed like immovable forces, refusing to yield an inch, and the air thrummed with the strain.
Once fully immersed in each other's domains, Maeng Geon chuckled low. The crushing density pushing back at him ignited his fighting spirit.
Grrr... The tiger he rode growled in sync with its master's mood.
Tian Ailang halted, facing Maeng Geon squarely. Maeng Geon spoke in a voice pitched just for him—low enough that, amid the quaking domains of two transcendent masters, no one else could eavesdrop, even straining their hearing with inner energy.
“Haomen Lord.”
Tian Ailang's brow furrowed at the terse words. “What about him?”
Maeng Geon relayed what the Haomen Lord had told him.
Tian Ailang listened quietly, his eyes widening in surprise before he nodded. 'So that's what he meant by having his own role to play.'
Before departing the Shaolin Temple for the Sichuan Dang Clan, he'd shared hints of this with the Haomen Lord during their talk. Tian Ailang would handle the antidote directly; the Haomen Lord would support from the shadows.
Still, battling the unorthodox sects that Maeng Geon mentioned felt a touch excessive. But if the Haomen Lord suggested it, there must be a reason. 'He's weaving some grand design.'
Maeng Geon's proposal, stemming from the Haomen Lord, offered Tian Ailang nothing but gain. He agreed without hesitation.
As Tian Ailang stepped back to prepare for a spar, Maeng Geon narrowed his eyes toward Dang Jeonga and the Dang Clan Twelve.
“By the way... those over there—are they from the Dang Clan?”
Tian Ailang noted the burning intensity in Maeng Geon's gaze, the tiger's growl, the barely restrained urge to charge.
He positioned himself squarely between Maeng Geon's line of sight and the Dang Clan group. Maeng Geon shot him an irritated glare at the interruption, but Tian Ailang shook his head lightly.
“I've heard your story, so I understand some of your grudge. But that woman helped me greatly, so she's off-limits. The rest... well, who knows what opportunities might arise.”
Maeng Geon rolled his thick, muscled neck with a grin. “Fair enough. We'll see about that. Anyway, we've got a long road ahead—let's clash like men with one almighty strike. I told you already: if your skills don't satisfy me, our deal's off. The Eight Trigrams Temple isn't something you tackle lightly.”
The corner of Tian Ailang's mouth curved up. “Fine by me. I wasn't expecting the head of a potential ally to be some weakling either.”
“Kekekeuk.”
Maeng Geon laughed like a beast and dismounted his tiger, sending it back to the Beast Tribe formation.
Tian Ailang slowly widened the gap, settling into a natural stance.
Dang Jeonga panicked at Tian Ailang suddenly gearing up for a fight. “Clan Lord Tian! What's going on?!”
She shouted, but he motioned for her to wait quietly.
A sudden surge of energy swept in; she could only watch awkwardly.
Grrrrrrruk!
Maeng Geon's already massive frame swelled further, muscles bulging with explosive power. His aura spread like prickling static, accompanied by a deep, tiger-like rumble.
Pzzzt-zzzt-zzzt!
Winds whipped around Tian Ailang, lightning crackling from his form.
Shouts erupted from the Beast Tribe: “It's the Thunder Dragon!” “The Thunder God!”
“Kahaha! The world's vast indeed! And a real man fights with his fists!”
Their domains clashed anew across the gap, cracking the earth and sending dirt flying.
Independently, both men condensed their raging inner energy into a single point.
The formations on both sides swallowed hard amid the storm-before-the-storm hush. Pure strength against strength. Victory would hinge on one blow.
Preparations complete, the two locked eyes—then charged without signal.
Maeng Geon's flawless straight punch, rooted in supreme external arts, thrust forth like a mountain-smasher.
Tian Ailang's fist, laden with lightning along the wind's flow and boosted by shrinking-earth steps, met it head-on.
Rumble!
KABOOOOOM——!
Thunder roared, the cataclysmic blast shaking heaven and earth.
Both sides channeled inner energy to block the sound wave assaulting their ears like a sonic attack, then peered through the churning dust as the ground heaved.
No one spoke, but hearts pounded at the unprecedented clash they'd witnessed in their lives—even the Dang Clan Twelve.
They'd known Tian Ailang was a transcendent master, but deep down, they'd dismissed him. As the Dang Clan's elite, they figured they could take him easily, transcendent or not. Hell, they could probably kill the Heavenly Demon or Sword Sage Baek Cheongseon, top contenders for world's best.
Now, watching this collision shook those delusions.
Grrrrrr...
The thunder's echoes faded, dust scattering to reveal the pair.
“Pha! Well now.”
Maeng Geon huffed a wry laugh, glancing at his feet. He'd been pushed back five paces from the impact point.
Tian Ailang stood unmoved at ground zero.
Maeng Geon hadn't expected to lose a raw power contest. He knew battles weren't decided by brute force, inner energy volume, or weapons alone. Even transcendent masters had specialties: sword masters wielded blades at that pinnacle; staff experts swung staffs. His own apex was external arts and fists—this test laid him bare. No excuses.
He fanned away the dust with his hand. “I lose.”
Tian Ailang nodded back at the clean admission. “Fine punch.”
“Kuhuhuhu.”
Maeng Geon chuckled, pleased, and turned to his tribe. “Everyone, over here! We've got a new friend!”
His roar drew cheers as the Beast Tribe rushed forward.
Tian Ailang saw pure reverence for strength in their eyes. He smiled naturally.
Pouring out his power after so long felt refreshingly cathartic.
He called over Dang Jeonga and the Dang Clan Twelve. The group gathered for quick introductions.
Dang Jeonga and her escorts were stunned to learn these newcomers were Maeng Geon and the Beast Tribe.
The Beast Tribe, hearing “Dang Clan,” instantly bared teeth in fury—until Maeng Geon reined them in.
Tian Ailang observed the Dang Clan during this. Dang Jeonga looked flustered, clueless why they were angry. The Twelve glared murderously, itching for a fight.
Catching Tian Ailang's eye, the Twelve hastily looked away.
* * *
With the Beast Tribe joining as guides, Tian Ailang's journey grew smoother and swifter.
Dang Jeonga, who'd been leading the way, quietly stepped back after their arrival. No one knew the Southern Forest paths better, and their deep wariness of the Dang Clan made extras redundant.
Tian Ailang thanked her sincerely for yielding without fuss.
Deep in the forest, the tangled woods disoriented like a maze, but the Beast Tribe blazed trails ahead.
At this rate, they'd cross the shortest path to the Poison Fog Zone faster than expected.
After hours on the move, they eyed the darkening sky and set camp.
Preparations flew by at startling speed. Squirrels and mice hauled edible fruits; wolves and bears dragged firewood branches.
The group just needed to clear spots and pitch in lightly.
“Kuhuhu. Pretty amazing, huh?”
Maeng Geon sidled up to Tian Ailang, grinning at his awe.
“Impressive, sure. But not exactly mind-blowing.”
“What? Kahaha! I figured you'd gawk at the animals pitching in.”
Tian Ailang shrugged at the booming laugh. “I've got a pal called White Tiger up on Mount Tai. Scenes like this aren't too alien. Speaking of which, White Tiger's got more majesty than your tiger there.”
Grrr.
The tiger, nuzzling Maeng Geon, snorted indignantly at the slight.
He scratched its forehead roughly to soothe it. “Kekuku. I'd love to meet this White Tiger sometime.”
“Sure.”
Tian Ailang replied casually, his gaze drifting to Dang Jeonga resting in a secluded corner. The Beast Tribe shunned her completely for her Dang Clan ties.
The Dang Clan Twelve were absent, too. They'd slipped off to report to their clan head and hadn't returned.