Chapter 68: The Sight of the Heaven-Slaying Star

The red flag in the hand of the adjudicator of the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament sliced through the air and fluttered vigorously.

It was the signal announcing the start of the duel.

As the two martial artists closed the distance between them, the spectator stands began to stir.

"Diamond Fist! Hyesung!"

"Have faith in Shaolin Temple!"

People clenched their fists. Shouts and cheers, heated with excitement, poured onto the stage.

Even amid the commotion, a sharp voice from a woman pierced my ears.

"Boss! Boooooooss!"

It seemed Ilhong was cheering for me at the top of his lungs.

That sight made me feel proud and fond, and before I realized it, the corners of my mouth twitched. But the next thing he said made that smile quietly fade.

"I bet my entire fortune on you, Boss! So you must! Absolutely! Win this matchhh!"

Ilhong had become a complete gambler.

He knew my martial skills best, hidden behind my epithet, and probably got blinded by the absurdly high odds.

"Good grief. No wonder they say it's terrifying when a thief learns late."

I shook my head and aimed the tip of my staff at the bald-headed martial artist from Shaolin Temple.

In response, the monk bowed with joined palms.

"Namu Amita Bul. I look forward to a splendid duel."

Thirsting for real combat. As if it wasn’t already difficult enough to raise my fighting spirit, my opponent turned out to be a monk who pursued the path of Buddhism.

This wasn't going to be anything close to a real fight. I let out a sigh.

"That staff you carry has a peculiar appearance. May I ask its name?"

It looked ordinary on the outside, but it seemed he had recognized the true value of this weapon, which was anything but.

To say it was the Dog-Beating Staff would be to publicly declare myself as the successor of the Beggars’ Union, so I had come up with a temporary name.

"It’s called the Hell-Piercing Demon-Slaying Staff."

"…A peculiar name, indeed."

I thought it sounded cool, but people kept calling it odd and bizarre.

These Central Plains folk really had no sense of romance.

"I am the Shaolin monk Hyesung of the Diamond Fist. Might you be the same Dan Mujin of the Seven Fate, Three Chivalry who captured the Blood-Sucking Fiend?"

From what I saw during the preliminaries, most people skipped formalities and jumped right into fighting. But this monk kept flapping his mouth before we even started.

"I am. Why do you ask?"

"It’s nothing serious, only that he was a villain I was also pursuing."

"Ahh."

That guy had brought great harm not only to martial artists but also to ordinary civilians, so it was no surprise that a monk from Shaolin would have been after him.

"He used evil arts and had peak-level martial prowess. I struggled to subdue him. How did you bring him down?"

"Like any good guys would—we ganged up on him, the three of us."

"…"

Evil arts or whatever, no one could withstand superior numbers.

It’s not like people had eyes on the back of their heads, after all. It was simply the most efficient method to take down an expert.

"Isn’t that a bit cowardly? Teaming up three-on-one against a peak martial artist?"

"Not particularly? Why should I fight fair against someone who slaughtered powerless civilians?"

"Huh."

And I meant that sincerely.

Having faced so many wicked bastards while working as a troubleshooter, I’d developed something of an iron rule.

"…Did he say anything before he died? Anything strange?"

"Yeah, well. He babbled something about Blood Arts and a Great Cause, or whatever."

It sounded like something only a final boss would say, so it stuck with me.

That bizarre blood art, spraying blood like an inkbrush, was strange, and the guy didn’t feel like your typical demonic practitioner.

"And did you inform anyone about it?"

"Yeah, I reported it right away to the Demon-Slaying Unit when I handed over the corpse."

But they seemed pretty indifferent. The receptionist probably had no clue what I was talking about.

As for me, I didn’t care as long as I got paid.

"…Is that so?"

But as soon as I said that, the monk’s expression turned cold.

He began to envelop his hands with a murky white energy.

"You’re quite the loose-lipped one, aren’t you?"

He slowly lifted his bowed head as he spoke.

"Geez, listen to that tone. Just call it civic responsibility."

Something’s off about this bastard.

Given my line of work, I was good at sensing shady vibes—and this one was screaming shady.

"And I, this humble monk, absolutely detest loose-lipped people. Enough to kill them."

So I immediately activated my Heaven-Slaying Eye. My head throbbed, but the Heaven-Slaying Star’s unique vision revealed the truth of human nature.

"…You sure you’re a monk?"

And then I saw it clearly with my own eyes. Though the bald-headed monk before me smiled outwardly, his heart raged with murderous intent.

"Of course. I am the Shaolin monk known as Hyesung."

Moreover, judging by the immense amount of Killing Karma accumulated through his life, it looked like he’d lived a rather violent past.

The stench was so foul it practically numbed my nose.

And most damningly, this monk Hyesung, who introduced himself as a Diamond Fist practitioner, was now forming Enhanced Qi with both hands.

According to what Ilhong had told me, his level was supposed to be just First Rate.

"And yet… against you today, I shall become a Killing Monk."

His lips twisted into a cruel smile. There was no way this was meant to be a friendly duel.

He clenched his fists, packed with Fist Qi, and immediately launched a lethal technique—something utterly unbecoming of a monk.

"Dieeee—!"

The martial masters of the Murim often reached the pinnacle of manipulating qi through years of training.

Such individuals could wield their internal energy externally at will. When channeled into a sword, it became Sword Qi that could slice iron like tofu.

Used for defense, it became Enhanced Qi; when infused into the fists, it turned into Fist Qi capable of shattering rocks and smashing steel shields.

Crack!

So it wasn’t out of the ordinary that the tip of the Dog-Beating Staff, after blocking the Fist Qi of a peak-level martial artist, burst like shattered glass.

Until now, no bladed weapon had been able to slice through it—but there was no stopping an opponent who wielded qi as a weapon.

"Huff, huff."

Blood trickled down my forehead. A scratch from the splintered wood shards.

"My Hell-Piercing Demon-Slaying Staff’s already half destroyed."

Poor, poor Dog-Beating Staff meant only for backup.

I had even carved the words Hell-Piercing Demon-Slaying Staff into it with a dagger, but now the “Hell-Piercing” part had flown off, leaving just “Demon-Slaying Staff.”

"Shit, my Demon-Slaying Staff!"

Grinning wickedly, Hyesung once again leapt forward and unleashed another Fist Technique.

Red arcs slashed endlessly before my eyes. Each and every one of them a lethal strike meant to kill me.

"Huh-up!"

I dodged every attack by a hair’s breadth. I didn’t even hesitate to roll across the ground or twist my body in every possible way.

Each time, the clueless spectators burst into laughter—“Wahaha!”—but I didn’t have the strength to respond.

As I read the trajectories of the killing intent and evaded in a way unbefitting of my level, the monk Hyesung stomped the ground in frustration.

“You damn rat…! Are you just going to keep dodging?! Stand and fight!”

Even if he told me to stand and fight...

Martial arts were originally meant to exchange the first technique, and if that didn’t work, move on to the next. But how could I when the moment I got hit, both my weapon and body would explode?

“Peak realm, my ass!”

And seriously, what was this bastard’s problem with me?

Was it because I stole his achievement? Or maybe that demonic practitioner turned out to be his long-lost blood relative?

“Guh!”

Then, in the moment my head went hazy, a lightning sword-like kick technique struck me in the side.

A blow that sent my mind reeling the instant it landed. I had focused entirely on his hands, and failed to notice the swift, sword-like strike coming from below.

“I’ll finish you!”

Then came a palm technique that pounded into my abdomen like a final blow.

The immense shock penetrated my entire body, rolling me across the end of the duel stage as I vomited blood.

The moment I was struck twice by a violent energy strong enough to shatter boulders...

“Hah, finally dead…”

“Ugh, shit.”

So this was what it meant to hover between life and death.

I only barely managed to gasp for air after what felt like several dozen seconds.

“Damn… that hurts, you bastard.”

I shook my head hard and pulled myself back up at the edge of the duel platform.

That self-proclaimed Killing Monk and the crowd, who had assumed it was over, gaped at me with their mouths hanging open.

“What… How are you standing? That was a Penetrating Energy that could kill a bear in one strike.”

My internal organs should have been crushed beyond repair, and yet here I was alive—it made no sense.

But I’d suffered something similar before and survived a fall from a cliff afterward.

Of course, I had no intention of honestly telling him that.

“Hey, did your Buddha teach you to beat someone to death on a duel platform?”

At my provocation, the Killing Monk's bald head turned crimson with bulging veins.

To be fair, that strike had really felt like I'd dipped my foot into the afterlife for a moment.

Another two or three hits like that, and even I wouldn’t be able to get back up.

Perhaps that sense of crisis was what awakened the dormant nature of the Heaven-Slaying Star.

Alongside the surging energy of the Starfall Heart Cultivation Method, the energy of the Heaven-Slaying Star began to rise.

It wasn’t just red arcs anymore—my entire vision felt as if it had been dyed with red paint.

“What… is this?”

What was qi in this world?

The origin of life and the medium through which all things in the universe connected.

Yet it could not be seen with the eyes, touched with the hands, or heard with the ears, which is why people longed for it and spent their lives trying to understand it.

But today, with death right before my eyes and my sight overlapped with that of the Heaven-Slaying Star…

I began to faintly see the presence and flow of qi that should never have been visible.

The small thread of realization I had gained while helping Jo Harang awaken into the peak realm had now come right before me.

One thing was certain—I was fated to grow stronger only through deadly combat.

“Hey, do that thing again. That penetrating something-or-other—hit me with it once more.”

At my taunt, his face contorted with rage.

He glared at me with eyes gleaming with malicious light.

“I was going to pass it off as a training accident during a spar… but I see now. I shall open a slaughter tonight.”

The sudden switch to using “본좌” was telling. As I’d learned with the Soul-Stealing Demon Lord, no one who used that phrase was ever sane.

“I’ll kill you!”

He coated his fists in a blood-colored qi and charged at me.

And then, I saw it clearly—the movement of qi.

I saw it all with my eyes: the flow of qi from his dantian, up his arms, and into his fists.

I used to wonder how I instinctively learned martial arts just from getting beaten up by Hwang Geolgae so often.

Perhaps this was the kind of vision the Heaven-Slaying Star had always shown me.

‘He’s different from me.’

The peak martial artist revealed the bare movement of his qi.

I observed that movement, reflected on it, and then reversed it into my own body.

And the result—

Whack—!

My half-broken Dog-Beating Staff completely blocked his terrifying Fist Qi head-on.

“What the…?!”

“Oh, that’s the one I saw under the moonlight.”

A move that gently flowed like water yet halted a tyrannical attack in its tracks.

Jo Harang gasped softly, realizing it was the technique she had seen beneath the starlight.

And Dan Mujin, who had been on the defensive, now seemed to have realized something and began pressing the peak martial artist.

The crowd exploded with excitement at the sudden reversal and counterattack.

“That’s it, Boss! I knew you had it in you! I’m rich nowww!”

Just moments ago he had been biting his nails with anxiety, but now Ilhong cheered as if he had believed in me all along.

“Haha! Young brother Ilhong was right! That’s some fine talent!”

Beside him, Jang Jangju and his companions, who had placed their bets with someone they knew, shouted with joy at their windfall.

And there was one more, who hadn’t placed a single coin yet was cheering louder than anyone else.

“Sniff! I knew it… The Dragon Head Sect Leader never abandoned our Beggars’ Union. To think he’d discover and send us such a priceless talent!”

The man who had been acting suspiciously while tailing Dan Mujin throughout the escort trip—

Now shedding tears of joy, Jo Harang flinched at the sight.

“Who is that guy…”