Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Before long, the next day arrived, and the Dragon–Phoenix Gathering, now leaving only the Round of Sixteen, began.

As if realizing that from this point onward the matches would truly be contests between genuine martial artists, the spectators unconsciously swallowed dryly in anticipation.

Youngho stared blankly at the bracket posted before his eyes.

‘At this rate, I’ll be meeting Cheon Muback in the semifinals?’

It definitely had not been arranged like this until yesterday. Which meant…?

‘Someone made a move.’

According to what the Murim Alliance Leader had said, Youngho was supposed to face Namgung Cheon in the semifinals.

But judging by the changed bracket, Youngho suspected that someone had discovered the deal between himself and the Murim Alliance Leader.

To prevent match-fixing, the Dragon–Phoenix Gathering brackets were occasionally altered.

One could call it coincidence, but Youngho’s instincts told him this change was no accident.

‘From here on, I just need to deal with that bald Shaolin monk and the brat from the Iron Fist Sect.’

Of course, others would not consider him a brat.

‘Come to think of it, it might be good to bring him in and raise him.’

As Youngho pondered briefly, he sensed someone’s gaze upon him. But just then, the Referee called his name. Lightly ignoring the stare, Youngho stepped onto the stage.

Crunch.

For some reason, it sounded as though someone were grinding their teeth.

Cheon Muback glared silently at Youngho with savage eyes. Yet Youngho stood on the stage with an indifferent expression, as if he did not feel that murderous gaze at all.

‘He must surely sense my stare.’

And yet he did not look this way. That meant…

‘He’s ignoring me. Was it not competitive spirit he felt toward me?’

If one were stared at so piercingly, it was only natural to glance back at least once.

‘I can’t read him.’

With that thought, Cheon Muback also ascended the stage for his next match.

Thus the Round of Sixteen ended, the Quarterfinals concluded, and soon the Semifinals began.

Youngho and Cheon Muback stood facing one another, locking gazes. Perhaps because it was the semifinals, the cheers of the crowd grew even louder.

Soon, the Referee widened the distance between them and declared,

“Begin!”

Though the Referee announced the start, Youngho and Cheon Muback merely stood still, staring at each other.

No—more precisely, Youngho simply did not move, while Cheon Muback could not move.

‘What is this?!’

It was incomparably cold. A prickling yet chilling sensation, as if a sword were pressed against his throat.

‘If I move, something will happen.’

He did not know what would happen. But instinctively, Cheon Muback judged that moving now would be unwise.

And that judgment was correct.

Youngho, who had been watching him with serpentine eyes like a snake eyeing its prey, smirked.

“Your instincts are good.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You thought it would be dangerous if you moved, didn’t you?”

Cheon Muback found it somewhat unpleasant to admit, so he gave an awkward nod.

“That’s what I mean by good instincts. No—forget it. What would I say to a brat who hasn’t even reached forty?”

Though it was an obvious provocation, blue veins bulged on Cheon Muback’s forehead. According to his investigation, Youngho had not even reached the Coming-of-Age.

And yet what? A brat?

“Then I’ll begin.”

With those words, Youngho’s figure vanished. Because Youngho disappeared entirely from his senses, Cheon Muback hastily shifted to the side.

Sssaaak!

With the sound of a blade cutting through air, Youngho’s sword slashed the spot where Cheon Muback had just been standing.

It looked as though he had futilely cut empty air, but the truth was different.

‘When in the world?!’

Cheon Muback could not help but be shocked. He had not seen it. He had not sensed it. Had he not moved his body to the side the instant his instincts screamed, he would certainly have been cut.

Cheon Muback lightly wiped the blood flowing from his cheek and spoke.

“…Were you aiming for my neck?”

“What? Was your neck almost cut? It’s a sparring match—I nearly did something I shouldn’t have.”

“You…!”

“If you were from the Orthodox Sect, that is.”

Kwaaaaaa!

At that moment, Youngho’s killing intent, compressed to the extreme, erupted with absurd intensity.

The killing intent, felt only upon the stage, was more than enough to make Cheon Muback’s legs tremble.

Even the spectators, unable to directly sense it, instinctively realized he had done something.

Youngho’s clothes flapped violently, and his hair whipped upward against gravity.

Cheon Muback hurriedly drew up demonic energy to protect his body; otherwise, he would have suffered internal injury.

It was that vicious a killing intent.

“I hate Demonic Cultists.”

As if that were the fuse, black flames blazed around Youngho’s sword.

It was such a wondrous martial art that others might mistake it for Hardened Force, and the crowd could only stare blankly at his blade.

In that instant, pitch-black Sword Qi shot forth from Youngho’s sword.

“…!!”

Realizing it too late, Cheon Muback countered with Fist Force, and with an absurd thunderous roar, Youngho’s Sword Qi slammed downward.

“Huff! Huff!”

Drip. Drip.

Cheon Muback roughly stanched the blood flowing from the back of his hand and thought,

‘What kind of Sword Qi is that!’

It was not even a real sword—merely the projection of energy—yet it was heavy. As though a true blade had struck his fist, a dizzying sensation crawled up his spine.

Just one Sword Qi, and it felt as if his mental strength were entirely drained.

This absurd killing intent, the sheer purity of internal energy—everything signaled that the situation was unfavorable to Cheon Muback.

Boom!

Youngho stomped the ground so hard that the stage trembled for an instant and shot toward Cheon Muback like lightning.

Seeing Youngho charge ferociously as if a tiger were coming to devour him, Cheon Muback also leapt forward.

“You’re wrong.”

Slash.

Youngho’s sword cut through the hem of Cheon Muback’s clothing, forcing him to hastily retreat.

Without giving him a moment to breathe, Youngho immediately lunged forward again.

Clangclangclangclang!

Youngho’s sword and Cheon Muback’s fists clashed so quickly that the spectators’ eyes could not follow.

Clang!

Though Cheon Muback’s fist collided with the sword, aside from some skin peeling, it remained intact.

But that was precisely the problem.

‘How in the world is he handling my demonic energy?!’

How could the disciple of the Unorthodox Faction possess such pure internal energy?

The demonic energy was being torn apart. As a result, wounds were carving themselves into his fist.

Such a thing had never happened before.

The Heavenly Demon Divine Art, which he had believed invincible, was being broken so easily—this could not be allowed. A divine martial art could not be shattered so futilely.

“You bastard!”

Boom!

With a face like a vicious demon, Cheon Muback smashed his fist down onto the stage.

Kwaaaang!

The stage, made of blue steel stone, began to split apart violently. In that instant, seeing Youngho lose his balance, Cheon Muback stepped forward.

Heavenly Demon Descends Step.

The god’s stride began to manifest through Cheon Muback’s form. The oppressive pressure of overwhelming demonic energy bore down—but Youngho instead grinned.

Heavenly Demon Descends Step? This kind of thing?

Kwaaang!

Youngho’s sword collided with the demonic energy of the Heavenly Demon Descends Step.

Kagak! Kagagagak!

The clash of energy sent sparks flying and lifted the shattered fragments of blue steel stone into the air.

‘This kind of thing is nothing compared to the Heavenly Demon.’

The Heavenly Demon’s Heavenly Demon Descends Step could not even be compared to this. Of course, it was unreasonable to expect the level of the Heavenly Demon from a mere junior disciple—but that did not matter.

‘This isn’t the Heavenly Demon Descends Step.’

With the Heavenly Demon’s first step, the earth had split. With his second step, martial artists of both the Unorthodox Alliance and the Murim Alliance had literally been crushed to death.

Compared to that Heavenly Demon, this petty devil was nothing more than a half-wit incapable of properly wielding the Heavenly Demon Divine Art.

‘Of course, it’s not something to ignore.’

Even if used by a half-wit, the Heavenly Demon Divine Art was still the Heavenly Demon Divine Art.

Carelessness meant defeat. Cheon Muback’s own martial prowess was nothing special to Youngho—but the power of a divine art was indeed formidable.

Youngho drew his sword back. At the same time, the black flames coiled around it blazed fiercely. Slowly, he brought the drawn-back sword down.

Paaang!

A terrifying air-splitting sound rang out as the blade cut through the air, and the muscles of Youngho’s arm swelled abnormally.

Simultaneously, the raging black flames clinging to his sword began devouring the demonic energy.

Though the pitch-black color of the flames resembled a type of demonic energy, the spectators felt a refreshing sensation from the faint, profound aura dwelling within the blade—something one might sense from the Daoist Sect.

In truth, they could not help but feel that way. Youngho’s internal energy was pure enough to be called the most refined under heaven.

When the black flames completely devoured the demonic energy, Cheon Muback widened his eyes in disbelief and spoke.

“Th-This is!”

“Does it not make sense to you?”

In that moment, Cheon Muback saw it—the depth of Youngho’s eyes, sunken more deeply than ever before.

Those cold eyes, faintly carrying killing intent, instilled fear in him without effort.

Unconsciously stepping back, Cheon Muback soon realized the disgrace of what he had done and roared at Youngho.

“You bastard!”

Boom!

The Heavenly Demon Descends Step had been perfectly blocked. Then what followed was fist technique—the very fist technique used by the god of the Sun–Moon Divine Cult.

It must never be blocked, and it must never fail to strike.

Yet Youngho displayed an absurdly swift quick sword and exchanged blows with Cheon Muback.

Kakakang!

Each time fist and sword collided, massive shockwaves burst between them.

Bang! Bang! Paaang—!

As their fierce exchange continued, Youngho shifted from rapid quick sword to a smooth flowing sword, employing the method of Grafting Blossoms onto a Tree.

As Cheon Muback’s own attack flowed back toward him like water, he panicked momentarily and altered the circulation of his demonic energy to strike again, but—

Thud.

Youngho had already seized the path along which the demonic energy should flow and forced it into reverse.

“Kgh!”

Demonic arts were defiance of heaven. Unlike orthodox arts, they went against the natural order—thus Youngho returned that defiance to its proper course.

A martial art that should have begun in reverse was forced back into forward flow, and the demonic energy exploded within Cheon Muback’s arm.

Thump!

“Cough!”

Suffering internal injury, Cheon Muback spat out clotted blood. Youngho did not miss the moment his body stiffened from pain and kicked him squarely in the waist.

His body bending like a sickle from the kick, Cheon Muback’s eyes blazed as he hurled a fist at Youngho’s face.

‘This is a feint! The next—huh?’

Boom!

Cheon Muback’s fist struck Youngho square in the face.

‘Huh?’

This wasn’t right. He shouldn’t have taken that hit.

Startled for a moment, Cheon Muback quickly regained his composure and unleashed a rapid series of strikes.

Kwagaragarang!

In an instant, three punches sank into Youngho’s body. As Cheon Muback moved to retreat, Youngho seized his ankle and lifted him upward.

“You lunatic!”

He lifted a person this easily? Cheon Muback cursed and struggled.

But Youngho slammed him straight down onto the stage of solid blue steel stone.

Kwaaaang—!

“Kuheok!”

The impact was so violent that Cheon Muback’s body trembled as if he would lose consciousness.

And Youngho, having thrown him down, also spewed blood.

Pusshuuuuuk!

The amount of blood he expelled was so immense that one might wonder if a person could even lose that much. Then Youngho kicked Cheon Muback’s face as he lay collapsed.

On the verge of fainting, Cheon Muback was sent flying and lost consciousness.

Youngho, seemingly exhausted as well, dropped to one knee and exhaled heavily.

Then he looked toward Cheonung and grinned.

‘This much acting should be perfect, right?’

In response, the Murim Alliance Leader nodded with a satisfied expression. Since Namgung Cheon’s match had ended just as Youngho finished his own, it appeared to others that the Alliance Leader was rejoicing over Namgung Cheon’s victory.

Seeing that, Youngho smiled broadly.

To others, it was the smile of someone savoring a sweet victory earned after a fierce battle.