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Translator: Vine
Chapter Title: The Advance of Geum Sihyeon
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Hoksemujin──
Gakwon had never held much interest in the Mind-Image Battle to begin with.
He had passed the age of fiery youth and reached 'Irrip,' where one establishes oneself.
He was nearing 'Bulhok,' an age where one is no longer swayed by worldly temptations, having transcended them.
He had only sought to find a stepping stone to further his martial arts by competing with fellow practitioners from all corners of the world, simply because his master, Abbot Wolryun of Shaolin, had encouraged him.
However.
Now, his composure was wavering.
It wasn't that his cultivation wasn't deep.
He wasn't angry that every step was teasing, or that every movement subtly revealed an opening as if intentionally provoking him.
He also didn't care that the final blow specifically targeted the head instead of any other body part.
It could be seen as an aberration from a righteous martial artist brimming with competitive spirit.
Right.
An aberration, from a righteous martial artist.
But was his opponent truly a righteous martial artist?
The blow just before the last one.
When the pure Yang energy, which had felt utterly pure, and the Yin-cold energy, which had never been displayed before, pierced his chest.
The energy itself was certainly pure.
But it was distinctly different from typical internal energy manipulation or penetration techniques.
Yin and Yang energies formed a reversed Tai Chi symbol, creating a 'reversal of heaven' within his body.
Like demonic arts.
The reason the energy felt pure was likely because they were within the Mind-Image Battle, where the inherent malevolence of demonic arts couldn't fully manifest.
Even if the righteous and demonic factions had agreed to a truce to avoid conflict, the Mind-Image Battle was strictly an event for the righteous martial world.
The paramount figures of the righteous martial world could not bow to someone who openly used demonic arts.
"Master, I apologize. I had promised not to draw it again..."
In the waiting room.
Gakwon abandoned his bare-handed combat and picked up his staff.
"Cry out, Demon-Subduing Zen Staff."
* * *
Where did our bald monk get scratched?
It must have been that instant takoyaki-making spike at the end.
While getting scratched was good for me...
...him suddenly bringing out a weapon was a disaster.
80% of my finely honed anti-bald-monk tactics, which assumed close-quarters combat, instantly went into the trash.
Even the trump card my Sword Demon master whispered to me became useless.
However, the idea of combining fire and ice arts to inflict stacked damage seemed applicable in many ways.
So, dual-wielding flame and ice swords is the future after all?
My dream wasn't wrong?
DONGGGGG──!
With the ringing bell signaling the start of the match, I cleared all my thoughts and focused intently on the bald monk's movements.
Instead of closing the distance in an instant like last time, he was now utilizing the weapon's length difference to maintain his defensive position.
Now, the situation was reversed; I had to approach him to land a sword strike.
WOOSH──!
The heavy stone staff cut through the air, creating a weighty whooshing sound.
It was a simple swing, yet a massive force surged forward, accompanied by the sensation that the surrounding air was distorting.
"Tch."
I pushed my Shadowless Steps to the limit, barely escaping the attack's range, but...
CRACK!
"What the hell, that crazy bald bastard."
The moment the bald monk slammed his staff onto the ground.
This time, lotus flowers bloomed profusely from beneath my feet, obstructing my movements.
Is this even possible?
It's not like some Sunken Colony; he just hit the ground with a staff, and flowers popped out?
Flashy martial arts effects. Worst mod. JOAT.
I vowed that if I ever returned to my original life, I'd smash that mod creator's head in, as I frantically moved my feet.
I was like a swallow.
Bouncing, bouncing, bouncing, bouncing, bouncing, like skipping stones on water.
I forged a path, continuously unleashing palm strikes.
Even if I couldn't accumulate significant damage, it would be enough if I could impede his movements, even slightly.
CLANG!
Sword and staff clashed, emitting a fierce metallic sound.
I dodged the staff, which was swung precisely at my head, and tried to land a sword strike in the opening, but what met me was the Indestructible Vajra.
However, I had confirmed in the first match that the Indestructible Vajra wasn't perfect, so I could definitely break through it by alternately accumulating Yang and Yin energy on the same spot.
Or so I thought.
Amitabha──!
Until the bald monk split into nine, accompanied by a hallucination of a Buddhist chant, "Amitabha," filling my mind, though it couldn't possibly be heard.
* * *
"Lotus Pedestal Nine Grades! It's the Lotus Pedestal Nine Grades! Among Shaolin's 72 ultimate techniques, which symbolize the lotus flowers that bloomed with every one of the nine steps Shakyamuni Buddha took immediately after his birth──"
"I've heard it's the most difficult martial art to master. Hmm, it seems like player Hoksemujin is overexerting himself."
Compared to Jeon-ryeong, who had a relatively lower martial arts level and was squealing excitedly, Jang Geon calmly observed the situation.
Martial arts known as Divine Arts have a commonality.
They are difficult to learn, even more difficult to deepen one's understanding of, and furthermore...
...they often require immense internal energy to perform.
A prime example is the Imperial Sword Form of the Namgung Clan.
True to its moniker, 'The Emperor's Sword,' wielding it to dominate the world with a single blade would surely require enough cultivation to reach the Harmony Realm.
And as Jang Geon knew──
The Lotus Pedestal Nine Grades was also a divine art that consumed vast internal energy to simultaneously control nine duplicates.
There were two possibilities.
Either he intended to win by merely mimicking the 'form' of the Lotus Pedestal Nine Grades, hiding true moves within feints.
Or he had unleashed the Lotus Pedestal Nine Grades with full sincerity, intending to end the match in a short, decisive battle.
Either way, it wasn't a judgment befitting a martial monk.
It was unexpected for someone who had already reached a high level in bare-handed combat to suddenly bring out a staff, and even more surprising that he would unleash the Lotus Pedestal Nine Grades for a mere Mind-Image Battle.
"I wonder what player Samseonggano's judgment will be. Will he understand that fighting head-on isn't always the best course of action?"
Jang Geon's heart held half worry, half expectation.
By all appearances, he didn't seem to be a member of the Nine Great Sects or Ten Great Clans, so he was likely from a smaller sect, like Jang Geon himself.
But the martial arts he displayed were unconstrained and free, truly showing the temperament of a grandmaster.
Not just Jang Geon.
- Wow, nine bald guys, it's dizzying.
- OMG is that really Lotus Pedestal Nine Grades? He's playing so hard.
- Bald guy clone jutsu lolololo
- So theoretically if two people have Lotus Pedestal Nine Grades, can they do the Eighteen Arhat Formation???
- The favorite is Hoksemujin the favorite is Hoksemujin the favorite is Hoksemujin the favorite is Hoksemujin the favorite is Hoksemujin the favorite is Hoksemujin the favorite is Hoksemujin
- [Tang] Honestly, if poison was implemented, I could just cut them both with Invisible Poison, yeah, this is Tang Clan discrimination.
- Punish that puppy severely, pika!
- Honestly, if Shaolin gets eliminated, it'd be fun LOL. I'll start with myself.
- King God Ga No, Gale-like Advance!
- O_O
- Amitabha...
The chat window, too, left praises in their own ways for the rarely seen scene.
Soon after.
The nine divided Hoksemujin clones began to relentlessly assault Samseonggano in perfect unison.
They swung their staffs, slammed them onto the ground to make lotuses bloom, aimed at the lower body's weak points with leg techniques, created some distance to unleash Buddha's Palm strikes, targeted the shoulder with Finger Snap Divine Power, and steadfastly swung their fists.
Samseonggano's choice, which seemed as precarious as a lamp in the wind, was...
"Aaah! He's showing his back here! Player Samseongganoooo! Truly, like his nickname suggests, this is a very cowardly response, reminiscent of Lu Bu retreating in defeat against the fierce onslaught of the three sworn brothers, Liu, Guan, and Zhang!"
"Oh. A wise young man."
...flight.
Of course, during his escape, he suffered damage: a hole in his shoulder, and his left arm, struck by the staff, was shattered and dangled uselessly.
Yet, even then, he frantically moved his two legs, which he had stubbornly protected, to begin widening the distance.
At this cowardly action, far removed from fairness, Hoksemujin's movements paused for a moment.
He then pursued, his mouth agape as if clearly shouting.
- Hmm... isn't 9-on-1 more cowardly?
- LOL true
- Cowardly, pika! Dirty, pika!
A sudden chase ensued.
But Samseonggano wasn't merely running away; he stubbornly swung his undamaged right arm, unleashing palm strikes to hinder the pursuit.
Samseonggano and the nine Hoksemujin clones sprinted across the ground.
Unfortunately, the path was not a dead end.
The first bald monk was hit by a palm strike and knocked down.
The second bald monk vanished as his energy ran out.
The third bald monk hurled the staff he was holding with all his might at Samseonggano's back, but it only grazed his side.
Of the ten martial artists, there remained only the pursuing bald monks and the fleeing coward.
Even after that, without any particular circumstances or incidents.
By the time only three of the nine bald monks remained──
Samseonggano, who had sheathed his sword a while ago, drew it like lightning and swept it horizontally in a wide arc.
As if pouring almost all his strength into it.
Samseonggano's attack, which had been far from flashy until now, for the first time glowed with intense light.
What bloomed from the sword's tip was like a mythical beast of legend.
"PHOENIX! A Phoenix has risen! I can feel an extreme heat, enough to make my own body burn, just by watching it!"
- Hawaaah?! That fire bird!!! (°ロ°)
- Pika...?
- Ah, what the f***.
Jeon-ryeong's exaggerated exclamations and the reactions of those who had actually seen 'a man capable of conjuring a firebird from his sword' erupted.
The Phoenix cleanly erased one bald monk who had no time to dodge, and engulfed another who had adopted a defensive stance but lacked the power to block it.
Soon after.
Finally, it turned its gaze towards the last remaining Hoksemujin (the real one) and opened its maw wide.
ROOOOAR──!
But Hoksemujin also seemed to have some strength left.
He gathered all his internal energy, unified by his Buddhist devotion, and unleashed a palm strike forward.
CRASSSSH──!
The Buddha's Palm, unleashed with extreme power, collided head-on with the Phoenix, creating a thunderous roar.
Samseonggano and Hoksemujin, both their figures, were simultaneously thrown backward.
If you put a good spin on it, a mutual destruction.
If you put a bad spin on it, both sides suffered injuries.
But bodies are transient, and tenacity is eternal.
As two martial artists endowed with virtual bodies, they barely managed to raise their forms even in their battered state.
And.
The flashy fight that had been ongoing disappeared without a trace──
Sword and staff clashed with extreme simplicity.
Was it the difference in weapons?
Samseonggano's sword broke futilely.
"Aaah! He was pushed back by strength! Is this, is this the end, player Samseongganoooo!"
But at that moment.
Samseonggano's left hand, not holding the sword, twitched ever so slightly.
From that tiny gesture, imperceptible even to observers.
A soft butterfly's flutter, imbued with chilling cold, bloomed forth.
It gently floated up and touched Hoksemujin's body, which was still radiating intense heat.
Hoksemujin's knees buckled.
A brief silence fell.
Soon after.
"No, no! Player Hoksemujin collapsed first! Could it be that he expended too much internal energy?! Player Hoksemujin has fallen! Player Samseonggano clinches his second consecutive victory and advances directly to the quarterfinals!"
Along with Jeon-ryeong's booming shouts.
The wave of chat, which had paused, once again poured forth like a vast ocean.
* * *
Gakwon sat blankly for a moment, then quietly removed the Mind-Image Battle device.
"Amitabha..."
The Buddhist chant mixed with a low groan.
His participation in the Mind-Image Battle was an open secret.
He wasn't one to seek the limelight, so he had simply enjoyed it like meditation, confined to a small hermitage.
That's why no one was around him.
No, there *should* have been no one.
"Is it over?"
"Master..."
At the sound of Abbot Wolryun's voice from behind him, Gakwon hurriedly turned around and bowed in respect.
Abbot Wolryun, with a mysterious smile, simply gazed steadily at Gakwon.
"What was it that made you so hasty?"
Gakwon couldn't answer the koan immediately.
First, thoughtlessness.
Next, a faint anger.
Followed by impatience.
Accompanying it was joy.
And in the final moment...
"This disciple could not overcome his competitive spirit. It is due to my insufficient cultivation."
The misunderstanding about demonic arts was cleared up midway.
From then on, he was purely eager to unleash the martial arts he possessed.
He wanted to show this, to see if his opponent could counter that, to see how they would react to this, even planning for escape, trying to utilize his internal energy at its peak.
But in the end, it was he himself who knelt in the final moment.
He had been sufficiently wary of the formless palm strike.
But because Gakwon himself had completely exhausted his internal energy, he never imagined that his opponent would have any remaining power.
"Amitabha. Gakwon, have I not told you repeatedly? The world is vast, and there are many extraordinary individuals. If only you were the right age, I would have sent you to the Baekhwa Academy. You were born in an awkward era, it seems."
Abbot Wolryun comforted Gakwon with a gentle smile.
In Shaolin.
And even when compared to the martial world, he was a disciple hard to find an equal for.
That's why this experience would be even more precious.
"It is done. Even if Shaolin had won, we would have only received criticism for using the Great Elixir as a pretext. It's better this way."
"But, Master..."
"Instead, you've inscribed the word 'defeat' onto Shaolin's name, so you must naturally accept your punishment."
Gakwon's face stiffened slightly at Abbot Wolryun's words.
However.
Abbot Wolryun's next words were unexpected.
"Coincidentally, Brother Wolsong is looking for an external martial arts instructor for the academy. The winner will likely be from Baekhwa Academy, so while you're delivering the prize, go and see the world for a couple of months."
"...I shall obey your command."
Leaving Gakwon with a complex expression, Abbot Wolryun exited the hermitage where Gakwon had been staying.
He might be dejected now.
But once he actually meets the winner, his competitive spirit will surely ignite.
If, through this, his unrefined disciple can grow into a better monk and a complete martial artist, then how could the Great Elixir, bestowed upon another, be considered a waste?
The moon had already risen, casting a bright glow.
Gazing at the Ominous Lone Star of Heavenly Slaughter, which glowed ominously beside it.
"Amitabha..."
Abbot Wolryun instinctively felt that the day the peaceful Jianghu would be thrown into chaos was not far off.
Was the current martial world truly prepared for such turmoil?