Chapter 249

“Waaaaah!”

“Whoa!”

Cheers erupted, shaking the Martial Competition.

Of course, Qing’s odds were ridiculously low this time too, causing countless dreams to plummet. But more than the monetary loss, the event itself was phenomenal.

Qing’s sunset-like true energy flourished in all directions, and everyone held their breath as they witnessed the dazzling golden aura of Qi—it was a legendary martial arts showdown, after all.

Truly, anyone who witnessed such a thrilling display could claim they witnessed a monumental event of an era.

Indeed, it was a monumental event of an era.

One mere woman. Not from the “Nine Great Powers,” but from an underwhelming, lesser sect.

I must emphasize—it was a female martial artist!

A lesser female martial artist defeated the disciple of the Number One in the World from the Shaolin Sect!

What’s more, it was even more than that!

The Divine Maiden Sect faced off, and Seomun Qing was the swordsman!

The swordsman put away their sword and fought with Fist Techniques, shattering the Shaolin Divine Skill and defeating the disciple of the Number One in the World.

Sure, the ending felt a bit off, but from the perspective of common folk, elegant dodges, and Qing’s elongated form seemed to completely dominate the competition.

The distinguished masters agreed—it was a victory all but recognized by everyone in the world except for one, Wolbong.

While Qing passed by the passage under the competition stage, the excited cheers did not settle at all. Well, I didn’t really expect booing, but this strangely felt good.

“Your disciple has always been wonderful, but today you were even more splendid. Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Of course not. You know how sturdy my disciple is!”

Qing insisted she was fine until she let out a sharp sound, ending her sentence.

That was because Seomun Sulin poked Qing’s chest with her finger.

“If it hurts, just say it! You foolish girl, always insisting you’re okay!”

“Hehe, you know, although I may be weak to cuts and stabs, I’m strong when it comes to being hit, right? I just get a bruise or two—the blows to my body are effectively defended like a shield—”

Thump. Seomun Sulin playfully hit her on the head.

“Since you don’t seem to care, I’m able to relax too. Anything can happen when warriors fight, and even if you get hit in the chest and face, it’s only natural—I just wanted to say don’t harbor any resentment.”

Surprisingly, Seomun Sulin harbored no ill feelings towards Wolbong’s indiscriminate attacks.

In fact, it was even more annoying when he initially hesitated to strike those critical areas, acting like he had a preference for gender among warriors.

So when Seomun Sulin was treated as a woman, she would often kick him between the legs, proving that the infamous reputation of “Womanizing Hound” was no lie.

For this reason, when Wolbong put his all into the fight, it was rather impressive that he at least acknowledged his opponent as a warrior.

Of course, it turned out he simply didn’t treat her as a woman because she had her face covered, making him quite a despicable fellow!

“Now, let’s do some decorating. We should at least give you time to wash up and tidy yourself before greeting others—what’s the rush? Tsk tsk. Honestly, the Martial Alliance is composed only of brash men, lacking subtlety.”

Seomun Sulin clicked her tongue.

After the semifinals of the martial arts competition, there was an event to introduce the heroes participating in the “Rising Dragons Martial Arts Conference” to the public.

The reason why participants merely introduced themselves by their names and origins in the conference was to focus on the competition itself.

Thus, before the finals, a stage was set for them to show off their names, allowing their names to be elevated before the masses.

“Um, do I really need to decorate? Since we’re at a warrior’s competition, shouldn’t I look like a warrior—”

“As my master has said countless times, a master must be both elegant and beautiful. Even that little novice monk knew this much.”

Seomun Sulin insisted on the beauty pageant for Qing.

In front of warriors, there are no distinctions between men and women.

But beauty and ugliness are still real.

No matter how skilled a master may be, if they are ugly in appearance and behavior, they won’t be acknowledged. It applies to both men and women.

Being ugly means they must excel in martial arts, or else they’ll be mocked for being ugly without relationships—having to focus on martial skills all alone.

While they claim not to distinguish between genders, if we were to judge fairly, lesser female martial artists received substantially better treatment.

An ugly man could become a master and marry a beautiful wife, accumulating wealth and fame, living a lavish life.

However, an ugly woman who becomes a master usually ends up living a solitary life, unwilling to bear the beatings of a husband. This essentially means she would be asking for it, reflecting society’s sentiments.

Seomun Sulin pulled out the makeup tools.

“Alright, you should confidently show off in front of the world that the next Number One in the World is such a beautiful woman!”

—-

As soon as the competition between Qing and Wolbong ended, some people sprang to their feet.

What followed was a ceremony to introduce the heroes of the Rising Dragons Martial Arts Conference, with those who bought seats at the competition stage getting closer.

The Martial Alliance, naturally, was a worthwhile group needing funds, so they were quite diligent in extracting every cent from the attendees.

Their martial artists ushered the crowd, orderly managing the event amidst the chaos, as people steadily filled the empty spaces on the platforms.

Of course, this was not due to the superior orderliness of the Central Plains’ people but because the Martial Alliance’s personnel were armed with swords.

Indeed, it was a virtue of this uncivilized era to listen to those brandishing weapons.

Thus, starting with the nearest, highly priced seats (of which were standing tickets), the crowd filled up quickly.

Those who deemed themselves without money or thought it unnecessary to be too close were simply watching from the audience seats at the martial arts arena.

Still, they couldn’t help but think that should they have foreseen this, they would have spent a bit of cash to get a closer view of the stunning beauty of the Divine Maiden Sect’s disciple.

Eventually, the first eliminated participants began to appear, introducing the contenders from the martial arts conference to the audience.

Not just mentioning names and origins, but introducing each contender’s name, activity region, aliases if they have any, and the lineage of their sects and masters, too.

However, the introductions for the rogue participants tended to be a bit lacking since, honestly, those rogues had nothing substantial to boast about.

Wang Nofil and Ma Yeong-jeon were delayed in appearing since they had actually made it to the Eight Rivers.

As the four dropouts from the Eight Rivers stood side by side, Wang Nofil and Ma Yeong-jeon exchanged glances and shook their heads.

Initially, the rogues had conspired to embellish their tales for the audience, suggesting they omit any negative stories about Seomun Sulin for fear of scandal.

But they only received a couple of well-deserved sharp smacks from Seomun Sulin for their trouble and decided to let sleeping dogs lie.

Then came Wolbong’s turn, alongside the guest of honor, Oki-rin, the world’s most handsome man.

Ear-piercing screams rattled the skies, as people cried out aloud, many declaring their love for Oki-rin.

Of course, many women fainted from the overwhelming excitement.

“Oki-rin! I love you!”

“Oki-rin! You’re so handsome!”

“Oki-rin! Take my body and soul!”

While the sentiment represented pure love, the deafening screams left even Wolbong uneasy as he stood nearby.

Overwhelmed with obsessive feelings that reached beyond simple affection, Wolbong glanced at Pang Dae-san and wondered if he was okay.

Apparently, it was not, as he glared with gritted teeth.

Once Pang Dae-san’s introduction concluded, it was finally Wolbong’s turn.

Now twenty-seven years old.

The youngest monk of the Shaolin Temple.

A young master of Shaolin with the Number One in the World as his master!

As the announcer called out these details, a roar of “Waaaah!” surged through the crowd.

In response, Wolbong’s previously hunched shoulders straightened a little.

“Haha, you didn’t just mark your head with dignity but with true strength!”

“I concede! If I’m drained of inner strength, I’ll have to concede!”

“Hehe! Now, let’s do our best!”

While some jeered, Wolbong was relieved that the level of ridicule wasn’t as unbearable as he initially feared.

Finally, it was the moment to welcome the sought-after finalists onto the stage.