Martial Arts Ain't Anything Special-Chapter 130: Shaolin (3)

0% As soon as the duel ended, the questioning began.

Seojun understood why.

It was, of course, about the Hundred Step Divine Fist.

But this situation wasn’t like before.

When he’d copied Mount Hua’s plum blossom sword technique, being caught would’ve meant serious trouble. Now?

I’m Namgung’s son-in-law—what are they gonna do?

The circumstances had completely changed. He wasn’t some powerless nobody anymore; he was a master in his own right, someone they couldn’t afford to ignore.

That’s why he hadn’t even bothered to disguise the Hundred Step Divine Fist.

With his significantly higher realm, he had grasped and replicated the technique’s core far more accurately. And to help Hyeun see the path forward, he’d intentionally kept it close to the original.

The result was predictable...

“If my eyes don’t deceive me, that was clearly the Hundred Step Divine Fist.”

The Abbot opened the interrogation with a suspicious gaze.

Seojun didn’t flinch.

He hadn’t done anything wrong.

Was it really wrong to imitate a martial art after watching it? That question alone was extremely ambiguous.

Martial arts didn’t come with copyrights.

To Seojun, copying martial techniques felt less like plagiarism and more like adapting a strategy from a game.

Sneaking into a team’s base to steal their plans would be a crime, but there’s nothing wrong with watching and imitating what they do.

Martial arts were different only in the sense that no one believed someone could master them just by watching.

Or maybe it was more than that. In this world, spreading a martial art could be considered an act of war. So yes, perhaps there was a difference.

Sects were fiercely protective of their arts. Leaked techniques meant vulnerabilities. And they were also treasured assets.

If a style became associated with crimes committed by imitators, the damage to a sect’s reputation could be severe.

So, if a powerless nobody copied a martial arts technique, they’d be punished without question.

And other sects would nod in approval. That’s how the world worked. (Usually such cases involved spying on training, so there was no real injustice.)

But what if the culprit was Namgung’s son-in-law?

Trying to punish him could mean getting punished instead.

And besides, was it even wrong?

Isn’t copying a martial art by observation a kind of skill in itself?

Is a copied technique really the same as the original?

Can it be called theft?

How is it different from gaining enlightenment just by observing martial arts?

If someone realizes the core principles, isn’t it natural for the result to resemble the source?

Is there any reason to discard insights gained through observation?

There were too many gray areas. Enough for a thousand debates.

Well, that was his opinion, anyway.

Seojun had never heard of anyone who could replicate martial arts after just seeing them a few times, so even he wasn’t sure how others might react.

If someone like that did become known (or was discovered), maybe copyright laws for martial arts would eventually follow.

But right now? They didn’t exist.

So Seojun stood firm.

Still, since he had caused a bit of a stir, he chose to answer honestly.

“I just watched it and used something similar?”

“There’s a world of difference between mimicking a martial art’s appearance and reproducing its internal principles. Do you think I wouldn’t recognize that?”

“Since I copied the principles by observing them, I guess that’s true?”

“That’s not even an explanation...”

Even as the Abbot, he couldn’t press too hard.

He knew better than anyone that the Hundred Step Divine Fist had never been leaked.

So... had this man really copied it from observation? How was that even possible?

There were no precedents to this. No guidebook for this situation.

Experience was supposed to bring wisdom, but it was useless in an entirely new case like this.

“What’s so bad about copying a martial art after seeing it? Don’t be so stingy.”

The Fist King chimed in, making things worse.

“Would you kindly keep your mouth shut?”

“Haha, if you’ve got a mouth, you should use it. Stay silent too long and you’ll age faster.”

Seojun gave a sheepish smile.

This could turn into trouble if the Abbot started spreading the story, but he doubted that would happen.

And even if it did, it wasn’t a huge concern.

At most, people might become wary of displaying their techniques in front of him.

But that didn’t matter. There were plenty of ways to see martial arts.

For now, all he needed to do was humor the excited Elder Namgung Hyeok for a while, take a quick stroll around Shaolin, then head back to the villa.

As he scanned the temple grounds, his gaze met Ji-am’s.

His brow twitched. Ji-am frowned slightly, an odd look on his face.

Seojun considered messing with him, but decided against it.

Meanwhile, the Abbot and Pae Jingwang’s conversation was winding down.

“...Very well. Since your intent seemed to be guiding Hyeun, it’s hard to assign blame.”

Truthfully, Hyeun had gained insight from the exchange. From that angle, there was reason to be grateful.

“And judging by that clear, righteous qi... you appear to be a man of upright character.”

“Not so sure about that.”

The Abbot ignored him and addressed Seojun directly.

“As long as you don’t use that martial art for evil, I’ll say no more.”

“And if I do?”

“Then I will take action before it can be tainted.”

Namgung Hyeok frowned.

“This child is of Namgung.”

“And this is a matter on which Shaolin cannot compromise.”

“Namgung won’t remain silent.”

“Then let us ensure it doesn’t come to that. I’m merely speaking of the worst-case scenario. There’s no need to take offense.”

The Abbot wasn’t quite as serene as Seojun had expected.

Maybe it was because he’d reached the Unrestrained Realm?

As Seojun scratched his chin, the Abbot turned away.

“This matter is settled enough. Follow me. There’s something important we must discuss.”

*The Abbot led the group to a modest room.

Only those at or above the Transcendent Realm were permitted entry. The others were instructed to wait outside.

However, Namgung Myeong, as the young master of Namgung Clan, was an exception.

Inside were the Shaolin Abbot, Seojun and Namgung Hyeok from Namgung, Pae Jingwang, Namgung Myeong, Bohyeon Divine Nun of Emei, and Wolmang of Cheongseong.

I didn’t even realize Wolmang was here.

Thinking back, he might’ve spoken with him once or twice, but the man had left no strong impression.

“When the main event of the Dragon Phoenix Tournament begins, the Sixteen Great Sects will gather again. But before that, there’s something I must say.”

Seojun, who’d been lost in thought, looked up as he heard the Abbot’s words.

The Sixteen Noble Houses... an umbrella term for the Nine Sects One Union and the Six Great Clans.

They would all gather in one place.

Maybe this is the real point of the Dragon Phoenix Tournament.

“Why are you being so dramatic?”

At Pae Jingwang’s words, the Abbot’s eyes darkened with weight.

“The Demonic Cult has begun to stir.”

“Demonic practitioners roaming around isn’t new. You can’t expect reason from those lunatics.”

“This time is different. The Heavenly Demon has moved.”

The Heavenly Demon.

At that name, Pae Jingwang’s face turned grim.

“The Heavenly Demon? Damn it. If he’s on the move...”

“Then it’s Mara’s will.”

For a moment, Seojun felt as though the air itself had grown heavier.

Not fully understanding, he asked,

“Who’s Mara?”

“A Demonic Immortal.”

Namgung Hyeok answered with a contorted face.

“She’s the deity worshipped by the Demonic Cult. The Heavenly Demon is her earthly agent.”

“If she’s an immortal, isn’t she in the immortal realm? How are they communicating?”

Does Shaolin have a hotline to Buddha or something?

“I’ve heard there are several methods. In the Demonic Cult’s case, I believe their Holy Maiden possesses a divine bloodline that allows limited communication.”

As he listened, the corners of Seojun’s lips stiffened.

Divine bloodline... I’ve heard that before.

Hadn’t the Mount Hua elder mentioned something along those lines?

- They failed to handle a single task properly, so the Sect Leader himself came to finish it. Having divine bloodline remain in the world would be troublesome.

So the divine bloodline isn’t just about having the Sword God’s blood?

So the divine bloodline isn’t just about having the Sword God’s blood.

Does that mean Chunbong could talk to the Sword God? Is that why they tried to kill her? But why specifically? Was there more to it?

As Seojun fell silent, Namgung Hyeok went on.

“That’s why the Heavenly Demon’s movement isn’t something we can dismiss. It signifies Mara’s direct will.”

Normally, the Demonic Cult stayed quiet.

While its practitioners stirred chaos as a matter of routine, the Cult itself had only acted a handful of times throughout the long history of the martial world.

But whenever it had, without exception, it had carved deep wounds into that history—

Blood-red footprints.

At last, Wolmang, who had remained silent, spoke.

“Tell us plainly, Abbot. What does it mean that the Heavenly Demon has moved?”

“He hasn’t acted personally. Only the Four Great Protectors have stepped forward.”

“That’s... unfortunate, but not the worst-case scenario.”

“Indeed. Had the demigods moved, everyone would know by now.”

If they had broken their restraints and taken action, half the Central Plains would already lie in ruins.

Even those who wished to remain ignorant wouldn’t be able to.

It would be impossible to miss. A true catastrophe.

Divine Nun Bohyeon spoke solemnly.

“In any case, due to the Demonic Cult’s movement, Kunlun will not participate in this year’s Dragon Phoenix Tournament. While their current conflict with the Black Serpent Sect is understandable, we must discuss support for Kunlun at the next meeting.”

“Wait.”

Wolmang interjected.

“Just to be cautious, I must ask... have we seen any signs of coordination between the Demonic Cult and the Black Serpent Sect?”

The Abbot shook his head.

“There’s no indication of that.”

“Well, that’s a relief, at least.”

“‘Relief? With the Black Serpent war already underway and the added complication of the Demonic Cult’s stirring, I wouldn’t call that ‘relief.’”

“Well, it’s still better than facing both of them at once.”

Wolmang had meant it as a joke, but the response was cold.

Clicking his tongue, he fell quiet.

The mood turned heavy.

Even Namgung Myeong, attending as a representative of his clan, didn’t dare speak out of turn.

Watching the atmosphere, Seojun finally grasped the weight of the name Heavenly Demon.

So Grandmaster Ji-am’s wasn’t overreacting back then?

No wonder he went berserk and charged at me when I said, ‘I am the Heavenly Demon.’

I guess that name’s not something you toss around lightly.

Having grown up outside the Central Plains, I had taken it lightly. But from what they were saying, the title of Heavenly Demon had been passed down through generations of demigods within the Demonic Cult...

Just that fact alone made it anything but trivial.

Only now did Seojun suddenly recall:

- Found you, Successor of the Cult Leader of All Demons.

The words of the woman who had presumably sent him to the martial world.

...Wait. Don’t tell me these Demonic Cult lunatics are looking for me?

Seojun’s eyes darted around nervously.

*After the meeting ended in its heavy atmosphere.

With the mood utterly unsuited for sightseeing the Shaolin Temple, the group returned to the villa.

Time passed quickly, and soon, it was the first day of the Dragon Phoenix Tournament preliminaries.

Heading to the venue alongside Chunbong, Seojun wore a thoroughly disgusted expression as he looked at the overflowing crowd.

“Wow... What’s with all these people.”

They were everywhere. Swarming like insects.

Without a trace of humor, he seriously considered halving their numbers just for some breathing room.

“...win.”

“Huh?”

Chunbong was muttering something.

Listening more closely, he realized she was repeating the same words again and again.

“I have to win. I absolutely can’t lose. I must at least reach the finals... No. I have to win it all.”

Her determination was intense.

Seojun grinned and scooped her up.

“Oh, my little Chunbong. Of course you’ll win! Want your brother here to help? Maybe bump you up to the Transcendent Realm before the main event?”

“I’m being serious.”

“Yes, yes. I’m serious too.”

“...Hmph.”

She pouted, lips jutting out.

Seojun resisted the urge to pinch that expression and instead pushed through the crowd, arriving at the designated training ground.

Looking around, he noted there weren’t any amateurs here.

Judging by their auras, the bare minimum seemed to be Peak Realm.

A few looked like they were at the First Rate level, but even they radiated a sharp, honed presence. Their combat ability likely rivaled that of Peak masters.

It appeared even qualifying for the preliminaries required going through a tough screening process.

At Mount Hua’s martial arts tournament, hadn’t they needed to cut through a thick log just to qualify?

Given how many more martial artists had flocked to the Dragon Phoenix Tournament, the entry test must’ve been even more difficult.

Of course, Chunbong didn’t have to worry about that. She had gotten a free pass.

And there was no need to feel bad about it.

Public opinion wasn’t something a martial artist should concern themselves with.

The orthodox sects might care about the general public’s well-being, but they didn’t bend to public sentiment.

What mattered were the opinions of other sects, not the praises or complaints of commoners.

The voice of a million commoners weighed a thousand times less than a single word from a Transcendent Realm master.

Listening to the people was seen as compassion—many considered it the magnanimity bestowed by those above.

That was the martial world.

Most of the martial artists Seojun had encountered so far were relatively kind, but among the more radical ones, it wasn’t uncommon to consider anyone below the Peak Realm as less than human.

Only upon reaching Peak Realm did one become truly human. Anything below that was still... subhuman.

Seojun had only heard stories, but he could understand the mindset.

Would a superhuman who had lived centuries treat weak mortals who couldn’t even live a hundred years as equals?

One might wonder if they were born at the Transcendent Realm, but frogs rarely remember their tadpole days.

It was just the way of things.

They probably had their own logic for it.

Maybe they saw ordinary people as unfinished humans... those who hadn’t yet proven themselves.

Well, as long as they didn’t mistreat anyone he cared about, Seojun didn’t really care.

“Move to your designated training grounds according to your assigned numbers!”

While he was lost in thought, the preliminaries had begun.

“I’ll be back.”

Chunbong adjusted her attire with a grave expression.

Seojun cheered her on with serious intensity.

“Kill them all, Geum Chunbong!”

“Are you crazy?”

“Fine, don’t kill them, just beat the crap out of everyone.”

“Hmph. Obviously.”

Chunbong gripped the scabbard at her waist and smirked.

“I am Geum Chunbong, after all.”