Third-rate Martial Family Becomes the Best Under Heaven - Chapter 107

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Third-rate Martial Arts Family, Greatest Under Heaven – Episode 107
Kiiiiaaaaaah!
The hawk’s cry fills the surprisingly sparse inner sanctum, echoing through every corner.
The piercing sound carries the power of demon-suppressing, evil-banishing energy so sharp it feels as though my eardrums might tear.
Even as Hyeol-an unleashes claw energy to block Yang Hwi’s assault, I must maintain my defenses against the invasive sound-based vital energy.
Crack-crack-crack, thud!
Hyeol-an’s body slams against the stone wall after taking a vicious kick to the chest—the same spot pierced by the blade.
“Ugh…!”
A groan escapes Hyeol-an’s lips, his eyes blazing with fierce fury.
Seeing this, Yang Hwi’s lips curl upward in mockery.
“What’s wrong, bird? Enjoying how the tables have turned? Huh?”
“How did you become this strong in such a short time?”
I know this blue-blooded brat inherited the arrangements of the Geomwang Tomb.
But it’s impossible for one’s martial prowess to rise so dramatically in such a brief span merely by inheriting the arrangements of an ignorant insect.
“Even the blessings granted through blood energy by the great Blood Deity could not produce such remarkable transformation. What sorcery have you employed?”
Yang Hwi’s expression turns dumbfounded, his momentum completely shattered.
“Sorcery? Those words coming from a Blood Sect dog’s mouth?”
You lot employ every conceivable dark art, yet you speak of sorcery? Of trickery?
It’s like a dog covered in filth criticizing another for being dirty.
“In the first place, your method of growing stronger—it’s just brute-forcing your way up through inner energy, artificially elevating your realm. What’s so impressive about that?”
“How dare you disparage the blessing!”
“Nonsense.”
Thanks to my past-life memories, I understand this better than anyone.
Perhaps even better than Hyeol-an himself when it comes to blood energy.
“Oh, that’s right. You hit a wall with your talent and fell into despair, didn’t you? Then you threw yourself into the Blood Sect?”
Hyeol-an’s face hardens with terrifying intensity.
A secret never shared with anyone has been exposed.
“Silence! My devotion to the great one was destiny itself!”
“Would you have done the same if you possessed talent like mine?”
“…”
The fact that he cannot answer speaks volumes.
Even you don’t truly believe otherwise, do you?
An ordinary tale—lacking innate talent, turning to dark arts, stepping onto the path of the demonic way.
Now that I think about it, you’re mediocre among the mediocre.
“…”
He could deny it. Yet Hyeol-an remains silent.
Regardless of anything else… that dazzling talent.
Despite his youth, the martial genius to break through the wall known as the human limit—the pinnacle realm—makes my mind burn with such jealousy I can barely contain it.
“Your silence speaks volumes. Here I come!”
The first form of the Gae-cheon-bak-pal-geom.
Sawu-gwan-am.
I thrust forward with the Blood Sect’s divine blade in a straight line.
Hyeol-an caught the blade between her palms as if clapping, and from that position, a clash of inner force began.
“How presumptuous. Have you truly forgotten your place?”
Inner force and talent are separate matters.
No matter how exceptional one’s talent, inner force requires sufficient time to accumulate.
Hyeol-an, who had lived for over a hundred years and consumed countless humans to build up her blood essence, was confident in this regard.
At least in a clash of inner force, she believed she could not lose.
But.
“This… this…!”
“Different from what you expected?”
Yang Hwi gave his opponent a contemptuous look.
A clash of inner force—literally a contest of inner force levels.
But does victory truly belong only to those with higher inner force?
The answer is no.
‘What matters as much as the height of accumulated inner force is the skill in wielding it.’
In my past life, even when my blood vessels were half-crippled from deviation, I never lost in true energy manipulation to anyone.
With this vigorous new body brimming with inner force, I would never lose to Hyeol-an, not even in jest.
“Yap!”
Against the palm meeting the blade, I redirected the encroaching blood essence and struck back.
Simultaneously, I released what was once called Hwa-cheon-gi—now it should be called Hwa-cheon-seon-gi.
I unraveled the Hwa-cheon-seon-gi into multiple threads and invaded Hyeol-an’s blood vessels.
“Kugh, cough! Cough!”
The razor-thin threads of true energy pierced through Hyeol-an’s Gok-ji acupoint, then her solar plexus and the Cheon-jung acupoint at her lower dantian.
Each time, dark, viscous liquid surged from her mouth.
Realizing that maintaining this stalemate was hopeless, Hyeol-an threw her blade away at the cost of disadvantage.
“Hah… hah…”
“Already exhausted? That’s why you should train harder regularly, old one.”
Hyeol-an ground her teeth.
She was a master powerful enough to sweep away all the martial artists gathered at the Geomwang Tomb single-handedly.
Even after inheriting the legacy, though she had changed to a heaven-and-earth-shattering degree, this opponent could not be matched.
…That is, if she could fully display her original martial prowess.
‘I should not have rushed forward without thinking.’
After sensing traces of the divine being, Hyeol-an had forced her way through the Geomwang Tomb’s gates purely through strength.
The third gate with mechanisms installed—strange iron spheres imbued with peculiar energy had pierced her entire body, and though she had expelled them with blood essence and regenerated, it had consumed tremendous energy.
The final gate where illusions unfolded—instead of finding the method to break it, she had forced through it, depleting not only her mental strength but leaving her body at merely thirty percent of normal condition.
‘Blood… blood essence is needed.’
If she could only display her full power, no matter how formidable an opponent, she would never struggle against a mere brat not yet weaned from mother’s milk.
Hyeol-an’s gaze naturally turned toward the collapsed Shaolin Monk.
With a frame that size, the amount of blood inside would be considerable.
A powerful hunger stirs within me, and saliva pools in my mouth.
But.
“Enough. Stop resting and get up, Adu.”
The massive frame that had been sprawled motionless twitches.
“Ugh….”
An arm as thick as a woman’s waist, its end a hand the size of a pot lid, presses against the ground and pushes upward.
Not merely a figure of speech—a physique genuinely as hard and unyielding as steel, its entire form now sheathed once more in golden radiance.
Adu touches the wound on his half-severed neck, his face contorted in pain.
“Ugh. It hurts.”
“Bear it. If it weren’t for the Muscle Tendon Changing and Marrow Washing Scripture, you’d have been dead long ago, friend.”
“Huh? How did you know?”
“How did I know? If you hadn’t cultivated the Muscle Tendon Changing and Marrow Washing Scripture, you should already be dead—that’s how I knew.”
The Muscle Tendon Changing and Marrow Washing Scripture, known as Shaolin’s supreme doctrine.
‘To be precise, it was the Bodhidharma Muscle Tendon Scripture and the Hui-ke Marrow Washing Scripture.’
Bodhidharma, the founding patriarch of Shaolin.
Hui-ke, the second patriarch who succeeded him.
The Muscle Tendon Changing and Marrow Washing Scripture, originating from those two, became the foundation and genesis of Shaolin.
The function of the Muscle Tendon Changing and Marrow Washing Scripture is simple.
The strengthening of humanity’s innate nature.
‘Simply put, the body hardens and inborn qi grows stronger.’
In truth, it was hardly a martial art so simple as to be dismissed this way.
But since I cannot directly cultivate it, what use is detailed knowledge?
Regardless.
“You wanted to guide him? Then we finish together.”
Without Adu, both of us would have died here.
Having suffered so much, I owed him the chance to take at least one step forward.
“Yes! Mara, we need to guide him.”
“Remember what we did last time?”
Adu’s expression showed confusion, so I tapped his head lightly.
“Ah, yes!”
“Once more.”
“Right. Haaaaaaah!”
Adu, drawing upon the Prajna Great Power to its fullest, became a radiant golden beacon.
Kiiiiiii!
Toward Adu’s gleaming bald head, sword qi carrying the cry of a hawk advances.
The collision of golden and white light. The shockwave of sound that follows.
Deeeeeng!
Golden and white waves explode outward.
In harmony, a solemn bell tone fills the inner sanctum, reflects off the walls, and resonates again and again.
Needless to say, both light and sound were saturated with the celestial qi of the Demon-Subduing Wall-Breaking Technique.
Moreover, it carried the unique characteristic of Buddhism—the efficacy of expelling demons and destroying evil.
“Kuk, kuuugh!”
Like the dark, viscous liquid that spurted forth with each wound, Hyeol-an’s entire body began to rot black.
Not only did the crimson light fade from both eyes, but the elongated nails dulled and chipped away.
“Adu!”
Yang Hwi and Adu seized the opportunity without hesitation.
In the instant light and sound erupted, both figures shot toward Hyeol-an.
Gae-cheon-bak-pal-geom, Second Form—Twin Wings Folding Slash!
Prajna Great Power—Bodhi’s Single Sweep Breaks Demons!
From left to right, from right to left. The sword qi of the divided celestial flame converged like scissors, targeting Hyeol-an’s torso.
Simultaneously, a straightforward strike wielding Buddhist wisdom to shatter demons was delivered.
Hyeol-an unleashed ten strands of claw qi, attempting to deflect and block both the sword strike and fist force.
The sword qi severed the claw qi.
The fist force shattered the claw qi.
“Kraaaagh!”
Hyeol-an barely escaped, having sacrificed one arm.
Watching this unfold, I could only laugh.
The composure from moments before had vanished without a trace, and seeing that twisted expression brought me complete satisfaction.
“The cripple’s become a real cripple now?”
“…Haah. Haah.”
Hyeol-an’s blood-red eyes darted about frantically.
Looking at him, he’s clearly searching for an escape route.
“Where would you find a hole to crawl through now?”
This is why there’s a saying that the more rice ripens, the lower it bows its head.
Arrogance and conceit are poisons that destroy oneself.
Had Hyeol-an been thoroughly cautious, moving with his subordinates and conserving his strength and will in passing through the gates, what would have become of him?
‘What would have become of him? I still would have won regardless. Though admittedly, it would have been more troublesome than this.’
I kicked Hyeol-an’s severed arm lying on the ground like trash.
The viscous liquid was leaking out continuously, making it as repulsive as filth.
“An aged body forced to persist artificially—the stench of rot is unbearable.”
Most of the Blood Sect’s Sixth Branch members were semi-corpse warriors.
This applied to Hyeol-an as well; his body was in a state that could hardly be called truly alive.
Without periodic blood qi replenishment, activity itself was impossible.
Even now, Hyeol-an’s complexion was little different from a decomposing corpse.
Continuous depletion of his strength had left his blood qi insufficient to maintain his body in peak condition.
“Shall we finish this?”
“Yes. Send Mara to hell.”
“Which hell should we send him to?”
“He pierced my throat, so… the Sword Leaf Hell?”
The Sword Leaf Hell is a hell filled with trees bearing leaves and stems sharp as blades.
Those sinners who fall into that place must suffer eternally, pierced and slashed by the blades.
‘It’s a fitting place for a bastard like Hyeolanra.’
“Old man. Time to die.”
The inner sanctum brightened. The sword energy coiling around the blade expanded more than six times over, and white radiance poured forth like a waterfall.
“Come here. I’ll cut you up nicely. Where should I start? Your neck? Your groin?”
That was the moment.
“Huh? You’re… Baek Yang-hwi?”
“….”
“….”
I couldn’t bring myself to answer right away.
I was too dumbfounded.
Why is Namgung Cheon-hu coming out of there?
And he’s even dragging along Shamans as subordinates?
‘There’s no way the Namgung guys could pass through the formation…’
They’re the type who claim righteousness and the righteous path while being rotten to the core.
So there’s absolutely… Could it be?
Did the formation malfunction because Hyeolanra forced his way through?
“Damn it!”
“Hahahaha! The heavens aid me!”
Hyeolanra’s entire face lit up with radiant joy, while Yang Hwi’s face darkened with decay.
Ah. This is absolutely ridiculous.
The Namgung bastards never seem to be anything but a hindrance.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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