Martial Arts Ain't Anything Special
Chapter 142: Counter (1)

Chapter 142: Counter (1)

0% This meeting ended much faster than the previous one.

It wasn’t that there was nothing to discuss. The Abbot had cut the meeting short at a certain point.

“Since we have outlined our preparations against the Demonic Cult to some extent, shall we first resolve our internal matters?”

The Abbot pointed to Heavenly Yang Great General Ju Cheoryak and Lee Seojun, who attended the meeting as an elder of the Namgung Clan.

“Everyone knows about the recent incident. First, there must be an apology from the imperial family for insulting the Geum Clan.”

Ju Cheoryak’s eyebrow twitched.

“Such a trifling matter does not warrant the Imperial Family to lower themselves in formal apology.”

“Heaven-reaching True Qi could have severed the Third Prince’s head on the spot.”

“Had he done so, he would not have remained unharmed either.”

His bewilderingly brazen attitude drew many gazes.

An elder from Wudang frowned and interjected.

“When a direct family member commits such discourtesy, offering an apology or acknowledgment is proper conduct.”

“It appears Wudang deems it fitting to humble their entire sect for the transgressions of a single disciple.”

“At minimum, words should be spoken. A disciple who commits wrongdoing should apologize.”

“I am given to understand the Third Prince has already extended his apologies.”

Ju Cheoryak’s eyes turned cold as he looked at Seojun. Having listened with his arms crossed until now, Seojun spoke up.

“I don’t recall receiving any apology.”

“The Third Prince has extended his apology, yet I hear tell that you laid violent hands upon him.”

An apology?

You should watch your words in the future.

...Yes.

Seojun snorted, the memory still vivid in his mind.

“That wasn’t an apology, that was cowering and nodding his head.”

“Must the Prince have knelt then?”

“I’d prefer if you knelt instead, you insolent bastard.”

“You speak with less refinement than that of common street ruffians. It’s little surprise why the Geum Clan’s daughter is branded as lowborn trash.”

Wow.

His breath stopped.

He felt like his eyes might roll back, but being this angry actually made his head clearer.

Should I watch my language a bit?

If it concerned only his own dignity, it wouldn’t matter, but having comments about the Geum Clan or Namgung Clan’s dignity was a bit troublesome.

Not many would dare say anything to his face, but still, he felt sorry for those around him.

Of course, now was an exception.

“I don’t need to show courtesy to vermin. Tell me, does the Imperial Family bow even to passing ants? Know your place.”

“Heaven-reaching True Qi, you should also calm down a bit.”

The Abbot tried to intervene, but this time Namgung Hyeok stepped forward.

“Abbot, this is not only the Geum Clan’s matter but also the Namgung Clan’s. I, Namgung Hyeok, will not tolerate the Imperial Family’s discourtesy toward a Namgung Clan elder.”

The Abbot looked at young clan head Namgung Myeong with a troubled expression.

He was asking if this represented the Namgung Clan’s position.

Namgung Myeong seemed to hesitate nervously among the numerous seniors, but soon nodded firmly.

“The Namgung Clan is built on family, and we do not abandon our roots.”

The Abbot now looked at Ju Cheoryak.

“What will you do?”

“...This is incomprehensible. What grudge do you harbor against the Imperial Family to warrant such preposterous accusations?”

How frustrating.

The Abbot suppressed a sigh that threatened to burst out.

This wasn’t a situation that could be resolved through words.

While the Heavenly Yang Great General didn’t directly represent the Imperial Family’s will, he wasn’t without influence over it either.

He too bore the surname Ju, indicating that he is a member of the imperial bloodline, the emperor’s nephew.

A misstep could cause internal strife within the Sixteen Great Sects.

Something that absolutely must not happen at a time like this.

The ideal situation would be for a single decision-maker to judge this matter, but given the equal standing of the Sixteen Great Sects, it was difficult.

The Alliance Chief showed little interest in human affairs. Ultimately, the parties involved had to resolve it themselves.

“Monk Abbot.”

At Seojun’s words, the Abbot looked at him.

“Since talking won’t resolve whatever this is, let’s just have a satisfying match and be done with it?”

From the Abbot’s perspective, this was welcome.

Even he thought the Heavenly Yang Great General had gone too far this time.

There should be limits to pride.

As the mediator, he sent a transmitted sound to Seojun out of guilt.

[Will you be alright? If you happen to lose, the situation will become complicated.]

[Don’t worry.]

Seojun’s eyes pierced through Ju Cheoryak.

[I’d win even if we fought ten thousand times.]

*Preparations for the duel proceeded rapidly.

Ju Cheoryak also believed he would not lose, so he accepted the duel without hesitation.

The Abbot suggested they conduct the duel quietly within Shaolin Temple.

This was to prevent martial arts from being exposed externally and to somewhat reduce the loser’s humiliation.

Wouldn’t it be better to quietly accept the results rather than be defeated before countless people and become the subject of their gossip?

“What needless folly. Would it not be wiser to ascertain the truth in the presence of all gathered here?”

But Ju Cheoryak wanted a public duel.

He intended to judge the traitor who dared insult the imperial family before everyone.

While he wasn’t unaware that the Third Prince’s words might provoke backlash, to publicly humiliate the imperial family when even a quiet protest would be insufficient...

This was unthinkable by Ju Cheoryak’s standards.

Especially since the Third Prince hadn’t spoken falsely.

He had to beat this traitor to death before everyone to restore the Imperial Family’s honor.

“I don’t mind either.”

Seojun also agreed.

Exposing martial arts?

Revealing techniques or habits a few times to others wouldn’t change much at the Transcendent Realm.

If one couldn’t control even that much, they wouldn’t have reached the Transcendent Realm in the first place.

Thus, their duel was conducted publicly.

The Dragon Phoenix Tournament was postponed by a day, with their duel taking its place.

The conditions they staked on victory and defeat were as follows:

For Ju Cheoryak: kneel and apologize for daring to be discourteous to the imperial family.

For Seojun: Ju Cheoryak must kneel and apologize for insulting the Geum Clan.

However, Seojun made it clear that even if he lost, only he would apologize, not the Geum Clan or Namgung Clan.

Ju Cheoryak also agreed, not wanting the matter to escalate further.

This was sufficient anyway.

For most Transcendent Realm or higher martial artists with firm confidence in themselves, kneeling before countless people was more shameful than death.

And so, the day of the duel arrived.

Members of the Sixteen Great Sects discussed the upcoming match.

“I hope the young man won’t be broken by this...”

When a Wudang elder worried, the Red Face Beggar clicked his tongue.

“This whole thing is absurd from the start. It’s already clear who should be apologizing.”

“It’s not like I do not comprehend the Abbot’s stance, but...”

“Well, there’s no helping that. If that young man wins, it’ll solve the problem.”

The Red Face Beggar looked toward the Namgung Clan people. Pae Jingwang was standing there with his arms crossed, frowning.

“What are you looking at?”

“What does Senior Fist King think?”

“The Imperial Family wasn’t this bad before. That bastard is particularly obnoxious.”

“No, about the duel. Who do you think will win?”

“If he fights with killing intent, our little rascal will definitely win.”

At those words, the Red Face Beggar scratched his head. Something fell out, causing the Wudang elder to quickly dodge.

“What if not with killing intent?”

“Our little rascal would still win.”

“The Heavenly Yang Great General shouldn’t be an easy opponent...”

“Your thoughts will change once you see that bastard fight. Even I’m not confident I could beat him.”

If Seojun brought out that demonic transformation he had witnessed before, Pae Jingwang honestly wasn’t confident he could win.

If he didn’t use it... it would be hard to tell.

“That young man is that good?”

“If the Fist King evaluates him so highly...”

“Even so, given the age difference, it can’t be that extreme. Must be some exaggeration.”

Suddenly, all eyes focused on the Fist King.

Most were skeptical, but Pae Jingwang only snorted.

“What are you looking at?”

Though his reaction was prickly, everyone knew the Fist King was close to Heaven-reaching True Qi, so no one thought much of it.

His status was so unusually high that it was awkward to say anything back.

The Red Face Beggar chuckled.

“Regardless of what happens, I hope he’ll knock down the Imperial Family’s arrogance a notch. These days in Beijing, it’s quite hard for beggars to get even one meal.”

“That’s because people with money are trying to mooch food too.”

“Senior, that’s a secret.”

“Skill issue, punk.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This is why old people are... It’s what young people say these days.”

“Oho, learn something new every day.”

*Seojun prepared for the duel, briefly composing his mind and body.

Squish.

That was the sound of him squeezing Chunbong’s cheek.

“Hey, this didn’t get big because of me, right?”

Opening his eyes, Seojun snorted.

“Nope. It happened cause that bastard’s got no manners.”

Honestly, he could have let the Third Prince matter slide without much complaint.

Chunbong had already proven it was bullshit by beating him up.

“But the way I see it is that even if that bastard loses this time, he’ll probably spout more nonsense.”

Seojun stood up.

Namgung Suah who was beside him helped him with his sword.

As he fastened the sword to his waist, she gently grasped his hand.

“Then what will you do?”

“Make sure he can’t even squeak.”

Leaving behind her gentle smile, Seojun walked toward the dueling platform.

“Go beat the shit out of him, Lee Seojun.”

Hearing Chunbong’s voice from behind, he grinned.

“Of course. I’m Geum Chunbong’s big brother after all.”

Standing on the dueling platform, Seojun took in the countless people with his eyes.

His black martial robes fluttered in the light breeze.

He walked towards the center of the platform while circulating his inner qi.

WHOOSH!

Golden patterns slowly began drawing themselves over his black robes.

The mysteriously rippling golden qi took on a distinct form.

A golden dragon.

It was a divine technique manifested purely through inner qi.

The golden dragon drawn on black fabric resembled the imperial dragon robes, but Seojun didn’t care.

It didn’t matter whether it was a black dragon on golden fabric or a golden dragon on black fabric.

From this moment forth, it would become known to all as the symbol of the Divine Sword Geum Clan.

“I am Lee Seojun, Elder of the Namgung Clan, and Successor of the Divine Sword Geum Clan.”

Seojun’s eyes rippled with golden light.