Chapter 246: Advent of the Divine Dragon (2)

Qing stretched out low, scraping the floor.

Thanks to this, from Wolbong’s view, her form suddenly sank down, then abruptly seemed to spring up right in front of him.

At this, Wolbong planted his feet firmly on the ground with the Thousand Pound Stance and raised his forearms together like an iron wall.

Then, tap.

The sword strike that hit his forearms, which he had focused all his energy on, was as light as a feather. Since it clearly wasn’t meant as an attack, Wolbong slowly lowered his arms.

Then he saw Qing standing still, holding her sword.

“Patron, what’s the matter?”

“Just now, were you trying to block my sword strike with your bare arms?”

“That’s right.”

Qing was speechless at the confident answer.

How does that make sense?

Blocking a swinging sword with two forearms, even for a martial arts match that’s too much.

Blunt practice swords don’t have sharp edges even when imbued with sword energy.

If just imbuing sword energy could suddenly create a non-existent blade, who in the world would carry swords around?

They’d just carry thin iron rods and emit ultra-high temperature blades like in some far future space age.

Qing turned her gaze to the host/judge.

It was a look asking if this made any sense.

The judge’s expression also became subtle.

“Ahem, Wolbong. Even if it was a blade wrapped in sword energy, could you have blocked it with bare hands?”

“This humble monk has studied the Vajra Indestructible Body Art, so I have already attained a body that cannot be harmed by sword energy.”

“The Vajra Indestructible Body Art!”

“If the patron wishes, you may use a real sword.”

The judge looked at Qing.

“Miss, what will you do? The monk is so confident, will you perhaps use a real sword?”

Since she was behind the face veil anyway, Qing deeply furrowed her brow.

It would be awkward to go get a real sword now after already starting the match, and even with a real sword, could she attack comfortably? If he got cut, there would just be bloodshed at the martial arts competition.

Moreover, even if she won in a match of bare body vs real sword, wouldn’t there obviously be criticism later?

Saying they’re the progenitor and pillar of the orthodox martial arts world, but acting so pettily to their own advantage.

Just as it seemed they would clash once, the two contestants were just standing blankly talking, so murmurs grew in the arena.

Qing shook her head at this.

“It’s fine. Then, I’ll go again.”

And so the match resumed.

Qing first lightly wrapped sword energy to test if it was really okay. The sword strike that extended smoothly was more about swinging gently with relaxed force than the subtleties of softness.

Wolbong responded by lightly raising his forearms held at right angles.

Thud. The impact transmitted to her hand was incredibly solid. It felt like striking a boulder.

Qing gradually raised the level of her attacks.

Wolbong blocked the sword strikes accordingly. It was a skill of blocking even trajectories that seemed deliberately left open, as if saying “Cut if you can cut.”

Only when Qing’s sword energy grew denser and she unleashed sword threads tangled in multiple strands did some certainty finally arise.

Hmm. He really could block even a real sword.

But it was still ambiguous.

Would his neck be cut if slashed? Or other vital points? What about the abdomen? If I stabbed the solar plexus? No, what kind of situation is this?

However, Wolbong seemed to think he had sufficiently demonstrated his defense. Only then did he unleash the ultimate techniques of Shaolin Fist, with the momentum of a fierce beast charging with a heavy shell.

Fortunately, these were somewhat familiar.

The straight punch was the Big Dipper Direct Line of the Seven Stars Fist. As Qing lightly twisted her body, an arm bent at a right angle rotated with the back of the hand aimed at her face.

As Qing leaned back her upper body, the fist stopped in front of her chin, shaking her face veil. That’s about as far as a human elbow can rotate.

After flowing through a light combination, it was Qing’s turn again. Qing stepped on Wolbong’s instep as he stood completely sideways and pushed his knee with her other foot.

What? Why isn’t he pushed?

But as the legs firmly planted on the ship arena didn’t bend, rather Qing’s balance was shaken and her body fell.

After doing two big cartwheels by planting one arm on the ground, Wolbong had suddenly closed in and was making a horse-riding motion with both fists cocked at his waist.

Front? Back? No time to ponder. Wolbong’s thighs seemed to swell to twice their size. Bang! Qing stomped the ground to lift her body.

At the same time, Wolbong’s double fists extended. Two arms stretching out as he straightened his body from the feet planted on the ground. The double fists filled with great force barely grazed below Qing’s rising feet.

Thud! Qing’s knee struck Wolbong’s forehead.

My knee! As her knee joint creaked, Qing swallowed a scream and did a handstand by planting one arm on Wolbong’s rough head.

Just how solid is it?

Not wanting to pass by for nothing, she struck the pale bald head with the pommel in her hand and flew off to land on the ground with that recoil.

Wolbong staggered slightly but that was all.

Qing clicked her tongue in regret. She should have hit harder.

Worried about cracking the monk’s skull, she had held back, so it seemed he wasn’t much affected.

But his ears turning slightly red suggested blood was rushing to his head. Hmm. Is he angry?

“Ha!”

Wolbong charged in recklessly again.

Qing retreated with big strides while unleashing continuous sword strikes. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Though the sword strikes lacked power due to retreating, it was very flustering as he fiercely charged while striking with fists and arms.

Originally, the purpose of weapons is to touch the opponent’s body. Since human cloth cannot withstand weapons, the moment they touch, a dramatic union is achieved whether stabbing, slashing or cutting.

However, Shaolin’s warrior monk thoroughly denied this basic principle.

Seeing this, Qing couldn’t help but admire.

She had wondered how Shaolin monks who don’t even use weapons could be counted among the world’s greatest martial artists. No, how can you block swords with bare hands?

Hmm. Perhaps the monk knows the White Hand Demonic Arts too?

It seemed reasonable to have such suspicions.

But in terms of hardness, the Vajra Indestructible Body Art was an external art with that very purpose, while the White Hand Demonic Arts was just a bonus obtained along the way, so there was no need to compare which was more powerful.

Shaolin’s 72 ultimate techniques burst forth in an unlimited combination of arms, fists, backs of hands, wrists, knife hands, and even kicks.

Blocking swords with bare hands, attack and defense were one, so Qing had no choice but to retreat while swinging her sword.

In an instant, over ten exchanges passed, and Qing had retreated over thirty steps.

But no matter how nimble the person walking backwards, they can’t be faster than the one walking forward.

Moreover, Shaolin’s footwork lies in stubbornly advancing forward like a rolling stone, so the distance gradually narrowed until suddenly the front foot stepped right in front of Qing’s spread legs.

Ah. Something big is coming. Qing sensed.

Sure enough, the outstretched palm aimed at Qing’s eyes while the tightly cocked fist behind extended with a terrifying sound, piercing through Qing’s abdomen and out her back.

There was no bloodshed at the martial arts competition, so it had pierced the afterimage Qing left with her emergency escape, the Traceless Shadow Step’s footwork-formation fusion technique.

Qing, who appeared neatly facing away eight steps behind Wolbong as if using teleportation, quickly turned her body.

Though Wolbong suddenly lost his opponent, he had seen Qing’s Traceless Shadow Step from afar before, so without panicking he immediately aimed his fist at Qing.

Then as he turned, he took a big step forward while completely rotating his body in a straight line and extending his fist-

With an ominous feeling, Qing hurriedly drew up her True Qi.

As sword energy surged with output pulled to the limit, the blade seemed to instantly swell to five times its size. The sword that had become a great blade fell with the momentum to cleave in two. Bang!! With a thunderous sound, Qing’s sword energy split like a fan and scattered roughly behind her.

Qing was pushed straight back.

Even with hands trained by the White Hand Demonic Arts, a tearing pain was transmitted.

It was Shaolin’s famous divine art, the Hundred Steps Divine Fist.

Wow, if I had taken that directly, I would have been laid out.

If you give too much distance, an absurdly powerful attack comes flying.

Wolbong’s arms were fully extended, and even his bent legs were in a perfect straight line as the heel of his back foot slightly lifted.

Qing also subtly pulled back her foot and measured the angle.

Finally, as Wolbong’s body flipped over, Qing also leapt out as if to destroy the arena floor.

Whoosh! The aftershock of the Hundred Steps Divine Fist grazed her ear. Even though she had dodged with plenty of distance, the aftershock still tickled her ear.

Qing’s movement technique drew a sharply bending trajectory like lightning, advancing alternately left and right.

It was a lightning-like technique completely different from the elegant and leisurely Moon Maiden Mountain Walk – the peerless qinggong that made the Divine Thief the Divine Thief, the Lightning Step.

However, since it wasn’t a qinggong shown to others, no one recognized it.

Qing’s sword energy drew afterimages, striking down on Wolbong like a bolt of lightning matching Qing’s movements.

But the moment it touched, Wolbong’s body suddenly vanished – it was the Iron Plate Bridge technique that Qing also liked to use. This too came from Shaolin studies, so it could be called the original.

Wolbong, who had sprung up like a spring, curled his fingers and extended a downward palm strike. A palm strike uses the bottom part of the palm connecting to the wrist, which is as hard as bone and has no loss of power, making it a powerful technique.

Wolbong’s palm strike dug into Qing’s abdomen.

Thud! Even though she had tensed her abs in advance, her breath was cut off and the air wheezed out.

It wasn’t a proper strike with rotation from footwork, but an improvised attack using just wrist elasticity from an awkward posture, so the power was insignificant. That’s why she could endure it.

Qing plunged her sword into the arena floor and punched Wolbong’s chin with her fist. Since Wolbong didn’t expect a swordsman to let go of their sword, his chin was turned.

In fact, Qing had learned about 30 of Shaolin’s 72 ultimate techniques. Because all the common bare-handed martial arts sold in markets were degraded versions of those. And she had raised all those white-bordered miscellaneous arts to 10 stars as she obtained them, since they were trivial things that barely used any cultivation points anyway.

Qing hit Wolbong’s solar plexus very hard, putting the grudge of her sore and painful abs into it as he staggered. However, Wolbong’s palm blocking in front of his solar plexus stopped Qing’s fist.

But Qing had monstrous strength, so Wolbong, who had struck his own solar plexus with the back of his hand, wheezed as the air was knocked out of his lungs.

Qing’s eyes flashed.

As she withdrew her fist, she leaned her body forward, and with destructive force from stomping the ground, her elbow extended.

It was a picturesque technique of the External Gate Pounding Pillar.

Thwack!! After accumulating one more hit to the solar plexus, Wolbong exhaled what little breath remained, and Qing was about to continue with the Iron Mountain Protector technique of thrusting her shoulder blade in the opposite direction-

“Ack!”

Trying to use such a common technique, and against an expert who had properly learned the authentic original from childhood, was too careless.

As the price for that carelessness, Qing took a hard hit to the side and quickly grabbed the sword she had planted in the arena to widen the distance.

“Ow. That hurts…”

Qing frowned as she rubbed her stomach and massaged her side.

Wolbong also seemed to be struggling to regain his breath that had been knocked out by two hits to the solar plexus, breathing short breaths.

Qing was pondering how to beat him to make him admit defeat and withdraw.

Suddenly, Wolbong performed the half-palm salute.

“This humble monk apologizes. I dared to underestimate the patron, so there was a reason my master told me to do my best.”

“That sounds like you’re saying you haven’t been doing your best until now. Is that right?”

“Yes. I hope that if you get injured, you will surrender without delay.”

Then golden energy rippled in his fist, and it began to glow and sparkle.

– Ooh! Fist Force!

• Transcendent! A Transcendent Realm martial artist!

  At the same time, cheers burst from the spectators who had been watching the match, forgetting even to breathe.

  Separately from that, it was rather bad news for Qing.