Ultimate Martial Venerable - Chapter 51

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

Episode 51. I Stake on Myself
Han Pung’s voice shook the Third Floor.

“Nyeong Han! Are you trying to ruin another innocent woman?”

All eyes turned toward the two men. Young Yo halted, and the color drained from Yeon Yeon’s face.
Han Pung pushed through the crowd and thrust a finger inches from Nyeong Han’s nose.

“Not long ago you seduced a sister from the Pyomyo Academy, took what you wanted, and threw her away—and now it’s a sister from Myungsim Academy? Is the Martial Arts Academy your personal hunting ground?”

Young Yo stepped back, her eyes wide with shock. Not a single person around her spoke in contradiction. Only Yeon Yeon bit her lip and looked away.

“Ruin?”

Nyeong Han’s voice dropped to a whisper.
White Gangjing flowed from his fingertips, taking the shape of a long sword. The power was far more condensed than Yim Je’s—the work of a martial artist at the External Force Realm, one who wielded Gangjing freely beyond the body.

Yuk Beom stepped forward half a pace, ready for anything.

“Choose your words carefully.”

Nyeong Han leveled the tip of his sword at Han Pung.

“Slander without evidence carries a price. Tell me which Academy Branch you belong to. Today I’ll make sure you never set foot in the Martial Arts Academy again.”

Han Pung let out a scornful laugh and scratched his ear.

“You start sweet, then toss them away when you’re bored. How many women have lost both their bodies and their honor because of that? Want me to keep going?”
“You.”
“Han Pung of Ilwon Academy. If you’re really confident, then throw me out of the school. If you can’t, admit you’re not a real man.”

The female disciples around them frowned, but Han Pung puffed out his chest with complete confidence.
At the mention of Ilwon Academy, Nyeong Han burst into laughter.

“So that’s why you’re not thinking straight. Garbage from the lowest branch dares level accusations at me?”

Laughter rippled through the crowd.
Yuk Beom scanned those faces. Ilwon Academy had become more than the name of a weak branch—it was a joke.

“Wasting my time on trash like you only diminishes me.”

Nyeong Han dismissed the sword made of Gangjing and turned to Young Yo.

“Surely you don’t believe the words of someone like him, do you, Young Yo?”

Yeon Yeon spoke up urgently.

“Right. Ilwon Academy ranks last among the nine branches. No sensible person would choose such a place.”

Young Yo’s brow furrowed slightly.

“But isn’t Myungsim Academy eighth? That’s only a one-rank difference. Can you really talk like that?”

Yeon Yeon’s mouth closed shut.
Han Pung couldn’t suppress his grin.

“Hear that? The sister from Myungsim Academy is much sharper than you lot.”

He swept his gaze around the Third Floor, raising his voice.

“Does having a higher-ranked academy branch automatically make you stronger? All of you who were laughing—come on then. I’ll put every last one of you on your backs with one hand tied behind my back.”

Hostile stares shot at him from every direction.
Yuk Beom swallowed a sigh. The moment the scent of conflict filled the air, Han Pung seemed to forget his injuries and was already turning the entire Gambo Mountain against him.

“Words don’t seem to reach this one.”

Nyeong Han glanced around the room before singling out one of the larger disciples.

“Yu Hwa. It seems he wants to see what the Ilwon Academy is made of. You can handle him.”

Yu Hwa stepped forward—broad-shouldered and thick-armed, with an axe the size of a man’s torso strapped across his back.

“It’s too cramped here. Come down to the rear courtyard. I’ll make sure you never so much as mention your academy’s name again.”

Han Pung let out a scoffing laugh.

“You’re going to face me?”

Then, as naturally as if the gesture required no thought at all, he pushed Yuk Beom from behind.

“Go on, youngest. Show them what you’ve got.”

Yuk Beom turned back.

“Aren’t you the one who said you’d fight?”
“I’ve still got bruises. And whose fault is it that I nearly died getting beaten by the senior and second senior? Tell me that.”
“You brought that on yourself with your reckless nonsense.”
“Still, you’re the reason. If I go out there in this weakened state and get killed, you’ll be the one arranging my funeral.”

Han Pung moved toward Yu Hwa with the solemn dignity of a man marching to his own sacrifice. On his second step, Yuk Beom grabbed his shoulder.

“That’s enough. I’ll do it.”

His expression brightened immediately.

“That’s what I call brotherhood. Send that bastard flying in style, and I’ll be sure to accept all the glory that comes with victory.”

Yuk Beom offered no reply and stepped forward to face Yu Hwa.

“Yuk Beom of the Ilwon Academy.”

Yu Hwa threw himself out the window. Yuk Beom followed after him, and spectators came flooding down. The rear courtyard of Bongguwhang had nearly a hundred paces of open ground and weapon racks set up throughout.
Han Pung, the last to descend, turned to Nyeong Han.

“Fighting without stakes is no fun. Let’s make a wager.”
“Name it.”
“If our youngest wins, I get to kick you in the face once.”

Han Pung studied Nyeong Han’s clean, well-formed face from top to bottom, even licking his lips.

“A footprint on that smug face would be quite a sight.”

Nyeong Han’s eyes grew cold and still.

“Done. But if Yu Hwa wins, you’ll walk around Gambo Mountain shouting ‘The Ilwon Academy is garbage’ ten times. Loud enough for the whole mountain to hear.”

Han Pung extended his hand without hesitation.

“I’ll take it.”

Their palms met.
Soon the two men opened a betting pool.

“Ilwon Academy victory pays ten to one; Yin-Yang Academy victory pays one to ten!”

One man collected the money while another kept the ledger. Most of the coins were stacking on Yu Hwa’s side.
Yuk Beom searched through his Nine Heavens Ring

and withdrew a small pouch.

“I’ll wager as well.”

The pouch dropped before the ledger.

“Who will you bet on?”
“On myself.”

Yu Hwa laughed loudly.

“Then I’ll match whatever you’ve wagered. If you can afford it, so can I.”

Yuk Beom stopped the man who reached for the pouch.

“Don’t open it yet. We’ll verify the contents after the match is decided.”

It was an old, unremarkable pouch. People assumed it contained only a small amount of coins and lost interest.
Then Young Yo stepped forward.
The pouch in her hand hesitated for a moment. She finally wagered all of her dozen or so leaves.

“I’ll bet on Master Yuk Beom as well.”

No one knew that money represented her entire year’s living expenses.

“Young Yo, are you in your right mind?”

Yeon Yeon seized her arm.

“You think someone from Ilwon Academy will win? You don’t have much money to spare.”
“Precisely because I don’t have much, it pays ten times over if he wins.”

Young Yo looked at Yuk Beom. The hesitation from moments before had vanished from her eyes.

“And I have a feeling Master Yuk Beom will win.”

Nyeong Han’s expression hardened dark as stone.
Han Pung, by contrast, laughed as though he’d just won the world.

“See? People with discerning eyes pick our side from the very start.”

Yuk Beom gave Young Yo a light nod.

“I won’t let you lose.”

At those words, a smile bloomed across Young Yo’s lips.
Nyeong Han flicked a brief glance toward Yu Hwa. It meant that merely winning would not be enough.
Yu Hwa unsheathed the enormous axe strapped to his back. The cold blade caught the sunlight and gleamed, and the Inner Energy Realm
Inner Energy Realm
Seven layers of Strong Energy rose from Yuk Beom’s entire body.
Yuk Beom drew out the Blunt-Edged Heavy Sword

as well. As Fusion Strong Energy

flowed out quietly, the aura visible to the naked eye matched Yu Hwa’s—Inner Energy Realm, seven layers.
The spectators’ laughter died down.

“The lowest-ranked academy branch has someone at Inner Energy Realm seven?”
“Even if the realms match, how could he withstand the martial arts of Eumyang Academy?”

Yeon Yeon added weight to the last remark.

“Young Yo, you should withdraw the wager while you still can. I’ve never even heard of Ilwon Academy having any proper martial arts.”

Young Yo shook her head.

“Yuk Beom is the champion of the New Disciple Martial Competition.”

Yeon Yeon’s eyes widened.

“That fool who rejected Eumyang Academy and went to Ilwon Academy….”

She trailed off, regarding Yuk Beom anew.
Yu Hwa pushed off the ground first.
Strong Energy surged into the axe, swelling its size nearly fivefold. The shadow of the enormous weapon eclipsed every avenue of escape.

“Giant Axe Slash

!”

It was an attack meant to end the fight with a single blow from the start.
Yuk Beom harbored the same intention.
The Blunt-Edged Heavy Sword shot upward from below. Fusion Strong Energy that had passed through the Yin-Yang Array

transformed into a force many times stronger, driving the blade forward.
Crash!
The colossal axe shadow split down the middle.
Yu Hwa’s eyes flew wide. The sword did not stop—it smashed through the axe and into his body. His Gangjing defense trembled violently as his massive frame crashed into the stone ground.
Yuk Beom brought the sword down again without hesitation.
Yu Hwa pushed himself up with a bounce and swung the axe, but before the blade could connect, a left fist drove deep into his abdomen.

“Collapsing Mountain Fist

.”

The explosive force hurled the massive body backward.
Yu Hwa barely regained his footing, his feet digging deep grooves into the stone. Just two exchanges. Yet his breath came heavy already, and his hand holding the axe trembled.
Yuk Beom had not moved a single step. The Fusion Strong Energy he had used was not even one-tenth of his total. The Yin-Yang Array’s twentyfold conversion made the comparison between two Inner Energy Realm cultivators meaningless.
Unaware of this reality, Yu Hwa gritted his teeth.

“Mountain Opening Single Form

!”

A crescent-moon axe force hurtled forward. When Yuk Beom raised the Blunt-Edged Heavy Sword, the sharp power shattered completely before the blade.
Yu Hwa pressed after it. His arms blurred into afterimages as the axe poured down eighteen consecutive times.
Deafening crashes echoed as dust covered the Rear Courtyard.
A smile played at Nyeong Han’s lips.

“Yu Hwa’s realm may not be high, but that axe technique is acknowledged even by Eumyang Academy. Your disciples couldn’t have held against it.”

Han Pung kept his arms crossed, watching only the dust settle.

“You claim you can read victory and defeat with your own eyes? Don’t make me laugh.”

People swept the dust away. Young Yo, without realizing it, leaned forward. Even trusting Yuk Beom, her fingertips tensed where an entire fortune hung in the balance.
Yu Hwa’s figure emerged first from the swirling dust.
Fine cracks ran in several lines across his axe blade as he gasped for breath.
On the other side stood the Weaponless Heavy Sword, upright as a wall.
The blade descended slowly.
Yuk Beom stood behind it without a single wound.
During those eighteen deflections, the Basic Sword Technique had grown only more refined.

Without calculating every move as Cho Haeng would, the repeated defense and counterattack had inscribed themselves into his body, and he’d found the axe’s weakness before it could strike.
Yu Hwa roared and swung the axe again.
Yuk Beom’s heavy sword moved briefly.
The blade’s tip struck not the axe head itself, but the precise junction where shaft met steel. His Gangjing shattered, and Yu Hwa’s arm flew wide open.
Through that gap, the flat of the heavy sword crashed across his chest.
The massive man spat blood and flew backward. As he rolled to his feet, Yuk Beom’s foot reached his face first.
There was no need for force.
Yu Hwa was driven like a stone on a roadside, rising three man-heights into the air before landing with a dull thud. Consciousness remained, but not a single finger would obey him.
The Rear Courtyard fell silent. The match made a mockery of them being the same Inner Gangjing Realm, seventh stage.
Han Pung broke the silence first.

“Well done, youngest!”

He turned his head slowly toward Nyeong Han.

“Now it’s my turn.”

Nyeong Han’s jaw tightened.

“Fight me again.”
“I’d rather not.”

Han Pung smiled brightly.

“Why fight again when I’ve already won? I prefer to collect what was promised after victory and move on.”

His fingers beckoned toward Nyeong Han’s face.

“Come. I won’t kick too hard. I’ll just turn your face a little to the side.”

The Eumyang Academy disciples stepped forward.

“Han Pung, don’t cross the line.”
“If you so much as place a foot on Nyeong Han’s face, Eumyang Academy won’t let it stand.”

Yeon Yeon opened her mouth hastily as well.

“Young Master Han Pung, that wager was spoken in the heat of the moment. For my sake, couldn’t we call it quits here?”

When she smiled gently, Han Pung’s eyes wavered for a moment.

“If you’d smiled just a touch more prettily, I nearly would have given in.”

Soon all trace of amusement vanished from his expression.

“But I despise the Yin-Yang Academy lot even more.”

Han Pung raised his voice toward the disciples gathered around him.

“Fine. If you have no intention of honoring your word, then leave. But I’ll make sure everyone here knows the truth—that Yin-Yang Academy disciples change their tune when they lose, and haven’t the spine to stand by a wager.”

All eyes converged on Nyeong Han. To retreat now would leave a scar far deeper than any beating—a stain on his name that would never fade.

“Very well.”

Nyeong Han stepped forward.

“I’ll stand and receive your strike. Let’s see if you can breach my defense.”

The Gangjing of the Outer Gangjing Realm wrapped his entire body, forming a white-robed Gangjing Robe with intricate patterns rippling across its surface.

Han Pung approached slowly.
Yuk Beom watched his senior’s footsteps, his eyes narrowing. He wasn’t drawing his Gangjing loudly and flamboyantly as usual. His waist and shoulders barely moved.
Yet the moment his foot extended, something shifted. It felt like the instant before drawing a blade.
Han Pung’s foot reached Nyeong Han’s face.
There was no sound, no flash of clashing Gangjing.
His foot sliced through the Gangjing Robe like a blade.
Nyeong Han’s eyes widened in disbelief. The white defensive barrier had done nothing—his sole pressed directly against his face, unobstructed.
Thud!
His rigid frame flew backward, more than thirty feet. The instant Nyeong Han’s body struck the ground, a vivid footprint was branded across his face, and one cheek swelled grotesquely, twisted out of shape.
The disciples in the Rear Courtyard stared at Han Pung in unison.
An Outer Gangjing Realm martial artist’s Gangjing Robe—torn open by a single kick.
The disciples who, moments before, had dismissed him as just another loud and shameless Ilwon Academy recruit now looked at him with entirely different eyes.
Han Pung withdrew his foot as though nothing had happened.

“That was refreshing.”

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