Chapter 247: Advent of the Divine Dragon (3)

After tasting the essence of martial arts called “Heavenly Shaolin”, Qing thought:

Ugh. Dirty. So dirty.

A completely martial arts competition-specialized martial artist.

No matter how much you slash with a sword, if he insists it doesn’t work, you just have to accept it?

This is a completely tilted playing field, no, it’s at the level of besieging against a castle wall…

With a real sword, she was confident she could peel off all the skin if not the muscles and make him a bloody mess. If you peel off the skin and gently poke, monk or not, he’d be crying and snotting from the pain.

But the Murim Conference is an event for friendship, not a place to start a cycle of hatred by finding new enemies.

So even if it’s dirty, whatever.

I have to find a way.

Qing briefly reviewed the contents of the match.

Distance. Yes, the distance is tricky.

In the broader category beyond martial arts, in the act of fighting, the importance of distance is the fight itself, without needing to emphasize it.

In fact, a greatsword is more powerful than a sword, and a glaive is more powerful than a greatsword. The longer the polearm, the more unilaterally you can beat from a distance where you can’t be reached.

Of course, polearms become powerless immediately if you get close because their movements are that much bigger.

But assuming you fight with perfectly equal skill and conditions, you’d receive a fatal wound before getting close to a polearm user, so in reality, the destructive power of bigger, longer weapons is like that.

However, in the era when the government exercised absolute control, carrying such “deadly weapons” was illegal for individuals, so swordsmen’s choice was mainly swords.

Swords were called the king of all weapons and were the most preferred by martial artists because they had the best balance, satisfying both moderately long and short distances while being moderately long and light.

Other than that, there were sabers which were similar to swords but had only one edge, or short spears that could transform into long spears or glaives when two were combined.

Or there were staves and clubs that boasted innovative functionality integrating walking sticks and weapons.

Speaking of functionality, the axe which could always procure firewood (live wood) with its wood-cutting function couldn’t be left out.

However, those in pitiful situations without money to obtain weapons, or those with slightly lower intelligence, chose not to use weapons.

These were the types called “cripples” (unarmed martial artists).

Even in Qing’s homeland, famous fighters unanimously said that if you see someone with a knife, don’t fight but run away, following the same principle.

For these “cripples” (unarmed martial artists), distance means only extremely close range where you share breaths right in front of each other.

And then they say outrageous things, claiming that at extremely close range, no matter what weapon is used, unarmed fighters can’t be beaten.

They make impossible assumptions despite being unable to break through the opponent’s weapon to get close in the first place.

However, Shaolin overcame this admirably.

Even if not the Vajra Indestructible Body Art, they built resistance to weapons with all sorts of external arts like Iron Cloth Art, Back-Beating Art, Bamboo Leaf Hand, Golden Bell Covering, Flowing Star Palm, Iron Sand Art, Friction Technique, and techniques with names that would make Qing tilt her head like Nail-Pulling Art (pulling out nails) and Cactus Art, etc.

Since they train in these as basics from childhood, Shaolin warrior monks can’t help but age quickly on the outside.

Then suddenly Qing had a great realization.

Ah. I see.

It wasn’t a matter of subtleties like softness and hardness.

From the start, trying to seriously converse in martial arts with idiotic unarmed fighters was the problem.

How can that be called martial arts?

Qing smoothly sheathed her sword.

At this, Wolbong asked curiously:

“Patron? Are you going to forfeit?”

“No. I’m going to do it properly now.”

At the same time, Qing took a stance.

It was a strange posture facing the opponent diagonally with one fist lightly curled in front and the other in front of the solar plexus.

Right. For Koreans, it’s Taekwondo after all.

If he’s playing around in the sacred martial arts arena, do I have any reason to take him seriously?

“Then, I’ll go.”

With that, Qing shot forward.

And at close range, she stomped her feet tap tap tap in three steps and powerfully extended her fist. Wolbong responded with a straight punch to the straightforward, unskillful straight line.

Bang! It was an unbelievable thunderous sound for a collision of fists.

Even if it’s called fist force, it’s destructive power as if wrapped in steel, not a sharp blade.

And since Qing’s forearms were partially Vajra Indestructible, or rather a lower-grade version called White Hand, she could handle fist force which wasn’t even sword energy.

Ow. It hurts like hell.

Still, the pain is unavoidable.

But Wolbong’s expression became serious, as he hadn’t imagined this terrifying great strength at all.

Qing extended her aching fist again.

As Wolbong’s forearm pushed Qing’s fist outward, his other arm went far away. A fist rushing towards the side. Qing received Wolbong’s fist with her open palm.

And then it was a barrage.

They deflected each other’s fists and fists collided, sometimes knife hands touched and wrists grazed, elbows cut through the air and knees rose to intersect.

Excluding the 72 ultimate techniques, Wolbong was a master who had thoroughly learned the most powerful divine arts of unarmed martial arts like Arhat Fist and White Lotus Divine Fist.

It was no comparison to Qing’s clumsy fist techniques that only imitated the form with degraded white-bordered versions.

However, surprisingly, their fight was evenly matched, like a dragon and tiger grappling, drawing an equal parallel line with momentum hard to distinguish.

This was because Qing was a woman.

In fact, Wolbong also had his own complaints about the unfair match.

From the start, there were set areas that could be hit against a female martial artist in a match.

At most, it was just arms, legs, shoulders, non-vital and solid areas, and the abdomen, and even aiming for the abdomen was only above the navel.

Moreover, Qing had absolute defense for the most vital weak point of the torso, the solar plexus.

In comparison, Qing freely aimed for Wolbong’s chin, around the eyes, and even his head.

Wolbong’s dissatisfaction was growing.

Qing’s hands, which had been pouring out only straight lines and sharp angles, suddenly drew soft but strange curves and grabbed Wolbong’s forearms.

Qing can lift 200 jin with one hand. That’s pure arm strength without recoil.

With both hands, it’s 400 jin.

But when using all the muscles in her body together, she could exert overwhelming strength befitting the female version of Xiang Yu the Conqueror who could uproot and throw mountains with reverse force dispersion.

Wolbong’s body rises. Bang!! With a thunderous sound, Wolbong’s body drew a semicircle and violently collided with the arena floor.

Even amidst this, he used a falling technique to reduce the impact, ingrained from Shaolin’s harsh training.

However, Qing’s hands were still firmly grasping Wolbong’s wrists.

Wolbong flies. It was just a very short flight rising and falling in a semicircle, but it was also an amazing miracle that made all the spectators of the martial arts competition gape at once.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! As he was repeatedly slammed down with heavy collisions as if to break the arena, the audience was terrified thinking he might die but couldn’t take their eyes off.

Just as Qing was swinging Wolbong around with full determination, suddenly force energy surged from Wolbong’s fist and struck his own wrist like hammering.

“Ack!”

Qing screamed as she was hit by the fist force.

You know after taking one hit. If she took a few more hits, her bones would be damaged, broken and shattered.

Wolbong’s fist curls again. Qing let go of Wolbong’s arm just before the trajectory of the fist force touched.

“Kuk.”

Wolbong, who had struck his own wrist with his fist force, let out a short groan and rapidly moved away. But that was only for a moment, as he regained balance with the Thousand Pound Stance and landed neatly with a palm-press salute.

“Huu. Huu.”

Qing caught her breath.

Swinging a person who was desperately resisting to avoid being swung required a completely different level of strength than swinging an iron ball of the same weight.

That’s when Wolbong’s fist suddenly extended in a surprise attack and Qing was startled and about to stomp her foot-

Qing flew one zhang and tumbled. Ugh, why, why the chest again! This bastard! Now he’s aiming for someone else’s chest in a match without even being subtle!

And then suddenly a shadow falls.

At the rare sight of a shiny bald head blocking the sun, Qing hurriedly rolled her body. With a technique called Descending Ride, Qing was an expert cloud rider who had reached the level of a master through countless practice on the bed.

A fierce fist like a hawk snatching prey pierces and sinks into the arena floor. Even in the dizzily rotating world, Qing’s guts froze as she didn’t miss that brief moment.

Wasn’t this a match? This is completely trying to kill!

Qing, who quickly got up with the rotational force from rolling, saw Wolbong’s eyes full of bloodshot veins. It was the look of someone properly pissed off.

“Huuu. This humble monk seems to have underestimated the patron too much. Now I will not hold back and do my best.”

“Ha.”

Qing snorted in disbelief.

What? Why is he getting angry?

The person who was played with in the sacred martial arts match was not Wolbong but Qing.

Until now, the only proper Shaolin martial art shown was just one move of the Hundred Steps Divine Fist as a warning of what could be done, while the real Shaolin divine arts were not used at all, as if hiding fist force.

There’s a limit to looking down on people, which was why Qing got angry and pushed roughly with just strength rather than martial arts.

True to his words of not holding back, now Wolbong stepped forward first and charged in. In an instant, Wolbong’s form multiplied endlessly and rushed in.

Just as Qing was raising her strength to grab the incoming attack and throw him again-

Suddenly five steps in front, he extended his palm and a huge palm force of energy struck.

It was the Vajra Hand of the Great Power Vajra Palm.

Qing hurriedly stepped with her movement technique and her form split into eight, raising both arms and flying like a crane/ elegantly rotating and flying backwards/ darting out skimming the ground/ rolling far with the elasticity of both feet/ running nimbly on all fours like a beast/ doing cartwheels with the elasticity from the Iron Plate Bridge/ slowly walking out from that spot/ shooting out straight like a cannonball, each shooting out in eight directions and suddenly vanishing four steps away.

Qing sharply turned her body with the natural follow-up movement to the emergency escape of the Traceless Shadow Step.

Then again, Wolbong’s shining bald heads approached leaving afterimages.

All sorts of ultimate techniques poured from Wolbong’s hands.

The Arhat Divine Fist leaving afterimages as if using six arms, the White Lotus Divine Fist with the destructive power to break cliffs in one strike, the Great Golden Dragon Mountain Water with force energy swirling around and meeting the opponent at the knife hand, and the four strands of force energy bullets flying in parabolas were the divine art called Bullet Shooting Divine Skill.

Qing was busy wildly swinging her arms to strike, block and deflect, while also rolling, crawling, jumping and flying to dodge.

No, what, what is this? Wh-what’s going on?

Qing was now painfully realizing the prestige of “All martial arts under heaven originate from Shaolin”.

But Qing’s eyes were just fierce.

Even if he’s Transcendent Realm, how much deeper could his realm be? Qing was the one who didn’t get tired from endlessly drawing out infinite inner force.

No matter how many Shaolin elixirs, like Great Return Pills or whatever, he ate instead of food, how could he endure pouring out force energy like that?

Then, thwack!

Qing’s body staggered greatly as she took a solid hit to the outside of her knee. This bastard! Cowardly kicking!

Of course, this was the highest divine art among kicking techniques called Formless Kick.

In Qing’s tilted vision, she caught sight of fists lined up next to the bald head. Just as Qing hurriedly raised her forearm, thwack!

Qing’s form separated again.

Qing who appeared turned around, took a big step to widen the distance, turned around and landed, then spat out the blood pooled in her mouth.

She had blocked the fist aiming for her cheek, but ended up slapping herself with her own palm, so the inside of her cheek was torn and her mouth was a mess with the taste of licking iron.

“Alright, so you hit me…!”

Qing, with her eyes rolled back, ran forward with all her might. If a spectator blinked once, the distance of four zhang narrowed, so they were startled and strained their eyes.

Wolbong quietly pulled back his fist in place.

It was the preparatory motion for the Hundred Steps Divine Fist.

Finally, as he stepped forward with a presence as huge as a mountain and extended his fist-

Qing also reached close range and stretched out her palm as if not to be outdone.

The moment fist and palm collided.

Deng-!!!

Suddenly, along with the sound of a temple bell shaking heaven and earth, a violent explosion of True Qi caused a very rough gale to reach even the spectator seats, fiercely whirling and passing by.

And one face veil fluttering in the rough wind, flying through the sky.