Ultimate Martial Venerable - Chapter 36

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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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Episode 36. This Time, I Choose
Even from a height nearly a thousand feet away, Seong Yeon’s gaze remained fixed on Yuk Beom.
The flames that had wrapped around the Weaponless Heavy Sword had already vanished, but the traces of power flowing between blade and arm remained vivid.

“Strong Energy flowing like Original Qi.”

At the cold observation, Mong Un and Sin Do narrowed their eyes in unison.
Sin Do gazed downward for a long moment, then scratched his head.

“I just saw someone strike incredibly hard with incredibly solid form.”
“Which is precisely why you still judge people by their bodies first.”
“A strong body means a long life. Is that wrong?”

Seong Yeon made no reply.
Every movement Yuk Beom made reflected in those star-cold eyes without a single miss. Ordinary martial artists’ Strong Energy scattered rapidly the moment it left the body. But this was different. High density, slow consumption, and even as it mixed with flame at its master’s will, it never wavered or dispersed.
Sensing that gaze, Yuk Beom suddenly lifted his head.
Though he could not meet the gaze of the Sageun seated a thousand feet above, his eyes showed the keen awareness of where that strange sensation scanning him originated.
The corner of Seong Yeon’s mouth rose ever so slightly.
Sin Do’s eyes widened as he watched from beside him.

“Wait. Did you just smile?”

The smile vanished in an instant.

“You were mistaken.”
“I wasn’t. I’ve known you for decades—”
“Shall I shut your mouth for you?”
“I must have been mistaken after all.”

Il Cheong stroked his belly and chuckled.

“A novice who can make even Seong Yeon smile. I’m suddenly quite fond of him.”
Ilwon Academy

doesn’t choose disciples by talent alone, does it? You choose by your own taste.”
“If their temperament suits my taste and their talent overflows, all the better.”

Seong Yeon spoke without taking his eyes from Yuk Beom.

“Consider first whether that child will even choose Ilwon Academy.”

Il Cheong’s hand stilled on his belly.

“That is a problem. Lately, people shake their heads the moment they hear Ilwon Academy’s name.”
“Only lately?”
“Spare me the cutting remarks.”

The Academy Head suppressed a laugh and ended the exchange.

“Regardless of which branch that child enters, investigate the source of his Strong Energy. Whether it’s a fortuitous encounter unique to him, or a method others can learn.”
“Don’t you intend to take him as a disciple yourself?”

At Mong Un’s question, the gazes of all nine Sageun converged at once.

“The thought is not absent.”

The subtle reply shifted the atmosphere noticeably.
Hyeon Jin’s eyes brightened as if he’d forgotten his recent rejection, Sin Do tightened his grip on the armrest, and Mong Un, though smiling, kept eyes utterly devoid of warmth. The interests of nine branches had begun to collide over a single disciple.
Only Il Cheong leaned back in his seat and clicked his tongue.

“You haven’t even asked the boy where he’s going, and already you’re scheming how to divide him up.”
“Didn’t you say yourself that he took your fancy first?”
“I merely expressed interest. You lot are undressing him with your eyes before he’s even stepped through the door.”

Sin Do’s eyebrows lifted.

“Don’t twist my words.”

The headmaster waved a hand.

“But I won’t compete with you this time. Instead, if there’s any strength he can teach us, the entire academy ought to learn it together.”

Il Cheong murmured softly.

“We don’t even know which branch he’ll go to yet, and already you’re planning to pick him apart. The headmaster’s the scariest one of all.”
“I can hear you.”
“Good. I meant for you to.”

While laughter rippled across the high terrace, below it Jeon Pung’s face was darkening like rotting fruit.
Yuk Myeong watched the expression with leisurely satisfaction, arms folded across his chest.

“You said a year, didn’t you?”
……
“Start with my quarters. The laundry can pile up—I’ll hand it all over at once.”

A vein stood out at Jeon Pung’s temple.

“Keep your mouth shut.”
“And I’ll need my boots cleaned too.”

Yuk Myeong deliberately glanced down at the toe of his boots.

“Fair warning—they don’t smell of roses.”

Laughter exploded from the crowd.
Su Mu Jung watched his brother being carried away, then turned in silence and fled. Unable to bear the rising tide of whispers, his pace quickened with each step.
Yuk Myeong blocked Jeon Pung before he could slip away alongside him.

“Where are you going?”
“Move.”
“My servant can’t leave his post without permission.”

Jeon Pung’s eyes reddened—the first time the laughter had turned on him.

“Yuk Myeong, wager again.”
“No.”
“Scared?”
“I’ve already won. Why stake it again? Do I look like an idiot?”

Yuk Myeong would normally have ground his teeth at even a whisper of provocation. But now he had a victor’s ease.
That composure only scraped Jeon Pung raw.

“My brother Jeon Woo is still here too. Do you really think your household boy can beat him as well?”
“So?”
“If Jeon Woo loses……”

Yuk Myeong cut him off before he could finish.

“Then you strip naked and lap all nine branches of the academy.”

The surrounding area fell briefly silent before erupting into even louder laughter.
Jeon Pung’s face turned crimson.

“Fine! But if Yuk Beom loses—”
“Forget the servant agreement.”
“You think you can end it there? You’re going to kneel before me—”
“Then I won’t do it.”

Yuk Myeong turned away without hesitation.

“I look forward to your service for the next year, servant.”
“Wait!”
“What? Going to beg for even worse terms?”

Jeers erupted from all sides.

“Jeon Pung, just do the laundry!”
“Lost a bet to a newcomer and now begging for better conditions?”

Jeon Pung, grinding his teeth, finally lowered his fist.

“Fine. I’ll accept your terms.”
“Don’t go back on your word.”
“But I won’t forget what happened today.”

Yuk Myeong’s smile faded.

“I never expected you would.”

A deep-seated enmity flickered between their locked gazes.
Jeon Pung turned his head and called to his younger brother in the distance.

“Jeon Woo! Next time, pick Yuk Beom!”

Jeon Woo, dressed in white martial robes, glanced back at his brother once. His expression was openly irritated.
Instead of answering, he hurled himself to the adjacent platform and, with a single sword strike, knocked the woman standing there off balance.
For Jeon Woo, his own selection tournament took priority over his brother’s pride.
Meanwhile, a new challenger landed before Yuk Beom.
Thud!
The Martial Stage trembled as if it couldn’t bear the weight.
Over eight feet tall. Muscles rising like stone. A gleaming, hairless scalp. In each hand, an iron mace the size of a human torso.

“Cheol Woo.”

Two fists collided with a deep boom.

“No tricks. Let’s settle this with pure strength.”

Yuk Beom drew the Weaponless Heavy Sword and nodded.

“Agreed. I’m not fond of complications either.”

Instructor Gang Gyeong watched the two of them in turn.

“Looks like this martial match is going to be a competition to see who breaks the floor first.”

Cheol Woo laughed sharply.

“If the floor is weak, that’s the academy’s problem.”
“You break it, you pay for it.”

Cheol Woo spun the two iron maces lightly. The lumps of metal, each the size of a man’s head, wheeled in his hands like twigs.

“Then I’ll just break that one instead.”

Yuk Beom rested the flat of his blade across his shoulder.

“I’m probably on the expensive side.”
“Bill me after you win.”
“Fair enough.”

Between them, not killing intent but something sharper clashed—a fierce hunger to test themselves. This was no contemptuous brawl. It was simple: a match to see who was harder, who struck with greater force.
Kkamangi bared his teeth at Gang Gyeong’s feet.

“Don’t provoke the beast. Begin!”

The moment the word left his lips, Cheol Woo charged.
With each stride, the blue stone buckled beneath him. Both iron maces carved through the air from left and right, driving toward Yuk Beom’s skull.
He could have dodged.
But Yuk Beom did not retreat.
He tilted his blade diagonally, striking the exact point between the two maces.
Crash!
The collision drowned out the fighting on the neighboring island.
Cheol Woo’s ankles buried themselves in the fractured stone. Beneath Yuk Beom’s sleeves, the muscles swelled taut.

“Excellent!”

Cheol Woo drove harder, laughing.

“Man Woo Gae San Gyeong
(蠻牛開山勁)
!”

His body, like stone, swelled further still. The two iron maces began to drive back the Weaponless Heavy Sword inch by inch. In raw strength alone, Cheol Woo was the most formidable peer Yuk Beom had ever faced.

‘Not giving ground head to head.’

The hand gripping the sword hilt drove forward again.
Crack!
A fissure split the stone beneath Cheol Woo’s feet. The blade, which moments before had tilted toward Yuk Beom, now forced the maces upward instead.

“Ha ha!”

Even as he gave ground, Cheol Woo laughed.

“Yes—this is what makes climbing all the way up here worthwhile!”

The muscles of both arms swelled as if about to tear; the Gangjing erupting from the maces scattered sparks in every direction. Between the two combatants, the ground had become unrecognizable.
Gang Gyeong gathered Kkamangi into his arms and withdrew to the edge of the Martial Stage.

“Neither of them plans to stop, do they?”

The answer came in the sound of collision.
Crash!
This time Cheol Woo was driven back half a step. Yuk Beom’s palms stung from the shock, but his breathing remained steady. The Cheonji Jiryeok and Fusion Strong Energy he’d gathered through sacred practices were replenishing his strength swiftly.
For the first time, urgency flickered in Cheol Woo’s eyes.
In that instant, he withdrew his right-hand mace.
The massive iron swept toward his opponent’s ribs.

Yuk Beom released his left hand.
Neither of them dodged.

“Destruction Collapsing Mountain Fist

!”

The fist drove into Cheol Woo’s abdomen and the iron mace struck Yuk Beom’s flank almost simultaneously.
Thud! Crack!
Yuk Beom’s body flew nearly three paces and smashed through the blue stone floor, leaving a crater.
A hole large enough to swallow a man appeared in the center of the Martial Stage.
Screams erupted from the lower viewing stands.

“Isn’t he dead?”
“The mace went straight through his body!”

The corners of Mak Un Bi’s rigid mouth turned upward.

“Right. No monster could stand after taking that.”

Jang Wol Ham from the Emblem Tomb Academy viewing section made no attempt to hide his laughter.
A senior beside him spoke while clutching his waist.

“I won’t need to step in now. He’ll be bedridden for half a year at least.”
“He’s fortunate.”
“Why?”
“If he returns home like this, no one will bother him anymore.”
“Your heart is kind.”

As the senior’s hand stroked his chin, Jang Wol Ham laughed sweetly.
That laughter didn’t last long.
Thump.
Cheol Woo’s knee touched the floor first.
The iron mace fell from his hands. His massive body, clutching his belly, tilted sideways—and in merely toppling, created a new fissure across the Martial Stage.

“What……?”

Someone let out a confused sound.
At the same moment, a hand rose from the pit.
Yuk Beom, gripping the edge of the blue stone, pulled himself up while brushing away dust. His side showed a torn shirt, but only a red mark remained on his skin.
Gang Gyeong’s eyes widened.

“Are you all right?”

Yuk Beom twisted his body once to check, then nodded.

“It was a bit heavy.”
“A bit?”
“Yes.”

Kkamangi at his feet tapped the ground with his foreleg as if proud.
The murmur from the stands exploded into chaos.

“Is he even human?”
“Not even in the External Force Realm, and he withstood an iron mace with his body?”
“That’s no martial artist—he’s got to be a demon.”

All trace of laughter vanished from Jang Wol Ham and Mak Un Bi’s faces.
In the sky, Sin Do the Sageun rose abruptly from his seat.

“You must come to Hengsan Academy”

“instead!”
“Just now you were only looking at his body, not his strength.”

Mong Un’s jab rolled off him without effect.

“I’ll give you the Spirit-Grade Superior Body Cultivation Manual right away. Hyeon Jin rejected Blue Sword Academy, so now it’s my turn!”
“By your logic, then every person with a good body belongs to Hengsan Academy?”
“At least this one does.”

The other Sageun did not reply. Instead, even after Cheol Woo had been carried down, they studied Yuk Beom, who stood unscathed on the Martial Stage, with their own eyes.
Their gaze had moved beyond mere curiosity into something closer to covetousness.
The remaining newcomers felt the same.
They slipped their eyes away, afraid of meeting Yuk Beom’s gaze. When moving to another island, they kept as much distance as possible from his Martial Stage.
Jeon Woo, who had just brought down the woman, was one of them.

“He’s a mad monster.”

He muttered it under his breath and turned his body away from Yuk Beom.

“I just have to avoid that one from now on.”

Too late.
Yuk Beom had already remembered his face.
Jeon Pung, who tapped Yuk Myeong’s cheek at the Mountain Entrance. His younger brother, laughing as he echoed his elder’s words beside him.
There was no longer any reason to wait for the next challenger.
Yuk Beom, the Weaponless Heavy Sword strapped to his back, walked toward the edge of the Martial Stage.
Gang Gyeong asked.

“Where are you headed this time?”
“To choose my opponent.”

His body pushed off the ground and launched into the air.
Jeon Woo’s face hardened in an instant.
A shadow bearing a black heavy sword fell upon his Martial Stage.
Crash!
Yuk Beom lifted his head from between the cracked blue stone.

“Were you trying to avoid me?”

Jeon Woo’s hand gripped the sword hilt.
Yuk Beom drew his Weaponless Heavy Sword slowly.

“This time, I chose you.”

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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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