I Became the Martial God's Youngest Disciple Episode 102

Episode 102

It was hard to tell whether I had succeeded or failed. Absorbed in watching the thunder and lightning, I'd lost all sense of ti. For all I knew, a hundred days could have already passed.

The only one I could have asked was FAD, but for so reason, it was nowhere to be found.

Clang, clang, clang...

Then, a strange tallic clashing sound reached my ears. I recognized it instantly—the sound of soone applauding.

I turned toward the noise and saw Senior Brother Arang erging from the fog. "Fourth Senior Brother."

"You did it," he praised/

I did it. This ans...

"This is the ground."

I looked around, seeing the scenery with fresh eyes. It wasn't much different from what I'd seen from the mountaintop. The ground stretched farther, but the lingering fog made it hard to discern any real change.

Then, Senior Brother Arang raised an arm toward the sky. From sowhere, FAD flew in and reattached itself to his arm.

He stood there for a mont before turning to . "Honestly, it's unexpected."

Still dazed, I could only offer an awkward smile.

"Not only did you progress with the First Fire Technique, but you surpassed expectations. That footwork at the end was flawless. Master it fully, and even a demon king's power won't touch you," he remarked.

"So, I succeeded?" I probed.

"Yes."

My legs buckled, and I slumped to the ground.

A long, exhausted sigh escaped . Thanks to Spirit Mountain's nature, I wasn't physically tired, but emotionally, I felt like sleeping for days. "Then I can go back."

"You may leave now if you wish," he answered.

His words piqued my curiosity. "How much ti has passed?"

"There's about an hour left until the 100th day."

That was close. It felt like half my success had co down to luck.

By the way, an hour...

I looked at Senior Brother Arang. "In other words, I can stay for another hour?"

"Technically, yes. But further training isn't necessary."

I agreed. Even if more awaited, I'd refuse this ti.

Speaking of training...

"Do you rember what I said at the beginning?"

"What did you say?" he asked.

I checked my condition and stood. My muscles ached from the Thunder Stomp Footwork, but it was nothing I couldn't handle.

Mimicking our master's teachings, I pressed a palm over my clenched fist in the martial world's salute, a gesture foreign to my own.

"Hah." Senior Brother Arang chuckled.

I felt unexpectedly excited and said playfully, "Luan Badniker, the fifth disciple of Bai Luguang, the First Under Heaven, officially requests a spar."

Senior Brother Arang looked at and asked, "Don't you need rest?"

"No better ti than now."

"Is that so?" His low laugh rumbled as he mirrored my salute. "Arang, the fourth disciple of Grandmaster Bai Luguang, accepts Luan Badniker's request."

***

Truthfully, I had never sparred directly with any of my seniors before. They rarely visited Spirit Mountain, and even when they did, they never stayed long.

Yet I knew of their martial arts. If our master's words were accurate, Senior Brother Arang practiced the Ten Thousand Transformation Diamond Technique.

"The Ten Thousand Transformation Diamond Technique is a mind thod, and yet it isn't."

At the ti, I couldn't understand our master's words, but I had an inkling now.

Senior Brother Arang had once ntioned he couldn't cultivate internal energy. That ant he had no need for internal circulation, making his martial art fundantally different from others.

He stood with his hands in his pockets, watching .

Are you waiting for to make the first move?

As I hesitated, Senior Brother Arang said, "What cos to mind when you hear the word 'tal?'"

The question caught off guard. After a beat, I answered, "Hardness?"

"Correct. All tals are hard to so degree, though their properties differ. But the world holds countless kinds of tal," he explained.

As he revealed his tal arm, its shape started to change.

Even seeing it with my own eyes, it was hard to believe. The tal rippled like liquid—like sli.

"This..." I stamred. "What is this?"

"A shape-mory alloy," he replied.

Okay, but what does that an?

"Here I co," he said.

The writhing liquid tal suddenly solidified into a sharp, nacing sword.

Tak!

The mont he lunged, I snapped back to focus and braced myself.

This wasn't just any sword. As I dodged the blade, I felt intense heat radiating from it, like molten lava. Even with my mastery of the First Fire Technique, the temperature felt dangerously high.

For so reason, I felt the urge to counter with a sword of my own.

Clink!

Suddenly, an unexpected weight settled at my waist. Looking down, I saw the Seven Sins Sword. Of course, this sword hadn't been there before.

"Did you always have a sword?" he asked.

"Want to see it in action?"

"This should be fun."

At his words, I drew the sword. Recalling my final battle with Juan, I unleashed the Galaxy Sword on the spot.

Kakakang!

Sparks erupted as our swords clashed

Senior Brother Arang's sword carried an unmistakable killing intent, like a technique focused on pure efficiency rather than swordsmanship.

"That is a fine sword. Most wouldn't be able to withstand my strikes," he praised.

"It is a relic, after all."

"I want to take it apart," he remarked.

"Heh. Try it, and you'll regret it!" I retorted, emphasizing the last word as I kicked Senior Brother Arang in the stomach.

Kang!

My foot struck what felt like a tal plate.

Okay, yeah. I can't break through without internal energy.

It didn't matter, though. After all, this wasn't a battle to the death but a martial arts competition.

Senior Brother Arang's arms transford continuously—first into a sword, then a spear, an axe, a blunt weapon, and even a swinging fist. At one point, they twisted into a grotesque shape lined with saw blades. At another, his fingers curled into the talons of a bird of prey.

What made it terrifying was that he wielded each form with perfect, effortless mastery. It truly lived up to its Ten Thousand Transformations part.

Still, even with endless techniques at his disposal, he was only one person. Having countless options didn't guarantee an advantage.

I recalled the sensation of my last battle against the demon swarm.

The White Sun Eclipse with my right hand and swordsmanship with my left.

For a mont, I considered executing Hidden Steps with my left foot and Thunder Stomp Footwork with my right, but I quickly discarded the thought. Footwork must flow in harmony, not chaos.

At that mont, a fierce heat radiated from Senior Brother Arang's body, steam rising like from a boiling kettle.

I flinched. By the ti I registered what had happened, Senior Brother Arang was already soaring through the air. It was hard to tell, but it seed sothing was propelling him from the soles of his feet.

Is he flying with that output?

Then, he extended one arm, gripping it with his other hand as if aiming a weapon at .

Clink!

Sure enough, his arm transford again. This ti, into sothing far more sinister than before.

Half-dazed, I asked, "What is that?"

"What does it look like?"

"Um... a cannon?" I speculated.

"Close." Senior Brother Arang chuckled. "It is a thousand tis stronger than that."

In the next instant, a concentrated light gathered at the end of the arm cannon.

Baaaang!

A deafening explosion tore through the air as a blast of energy rocketed toward .

Crazy! Is he trying to kill ?

This thought occurred for a mont. Then I realized that the projectile wasn't faster than lightning.

I imdiately used Thunder Stomp Footwork, a martial art designed to evade lightning. In my view, it was as close as one could get to a light body technique.

However, the reason it was categorized as footwork and not light body movent was due to its inherent drawback: the body would briefly stop after reaching its target. If that flaw could be eliminated, it would be indistinguishable from light body techniques.

This isn't the ti to think about this.

I felt the ground I had just been standing on turn over as I took a big leap toward Senior Brother Arang in the sky.

I swung the Seven Sins Sword as soon as Senior Brother Arang's figure filled my view.

Claaang!

With ease, he blocked the strike with his left arm. In an instant, his left arm morphed into a large tal shield.

His right arm is... Yep, still a cannon. So, the bigger the form, the slower the transition?

Just as I thought I had figured out most of Senior Brother Arang's fighting style, I realized his full attention was fixed on the Seven Sins Sword.

Without hesitation, I grabbed his shoulder with my left hand and launched a knee strike.

This one landed. My knee struck his abdon, but the sensation was sharper than when I punched him.

However, before I could react, Senior Brother Arang struck with his left arm shield.

Bang!

I flew through the air like a cannonball, crashing into the ground.

"Pfftt..." A dry laugh escaped . "Guess that's my limit for now."

As I descended, I realized I could manage without internal energy, but when facing stronger opponents, the lack beca glaringly obvious.

Seeing I had lost my will to continue, Senior Brother Arang landed gracefully, no longer intending to attack.

"As expected, you are strong," I comnted.

"It would've been different if you had internal energy."

Although he hadn't gone all out either, neither of us was the type to pretend otherwise. We simply laughed.

"Are you satisfied?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Good. Then you should go back now."

I looked at him. The feeling was indescribable. His face was featureless—smooth, without anything that resembled eyes, nose, or mouth. Yet every ti we faced each other, it felt like we were making eye contact.

I wondered if he noticed too.

Suddenly, he threw sothing at . "This is a parting gift."

I caught it reflexively. "What is this?"

"A coin."

It certainly looked like one.

"Use it once, and you can summon ," he explained.

"Wait... in my world?"

"Yes. It has that much power."

I examined the coin curiously. It looked ordinary, with no trace of special energy.

"How do I use it?" I asked.

"Toss it into the air."

"I see." I nodded.

I didn't have anything else to say, but I still wanted to keep talking. One hundred days had passed, yet I'd probably spoken with him for only a few hours.

"Will we et again?"

He chuckled softly, then suddenly called out, "Youngest Disciple."

"Yeah?"

"What was your na again?"

I blinked, then burst out laughing.

Sohow, I could tell Senior Brother Arang was smiling as well. "It is Luan. Luan Badniker."

"Right. Don't forget that."

At that mont, fog enveloped us, and I felt a strange sense of comfort—like being imrsed in perfectly warm water.

The fog even engulfed Senior Brother Arang, and his distant voice reached . "You can do it."

***

"Are you listening?"

"What's wrong with his face?"

"Does he want to go ho?"

"This is his ho."

"Ah, that's right."

The conversation sounded silly. I blinked, trying to reorient myself to the faint bustle of the hall, the scent of food in the air, and the two pairs of eyes fixed on .

These people...

"Charis," I called.

"Yeah?"

"Evan," I muttered.

"What is it?"

I glanced at Charis, whose chest wasn't bleeding, and Evan, who had yet to beco the Young Dark Pope. Seeing them unhard made smile.

Is this the dining hall?

I scanned the room. Hector sat with his usual indifference, Charon wore a sullen expression, and Seren had just stepped out.

"You don't look well. Are you sick?" Evan asked, his voice tinged with concern.

I shook my head. "No. Actually..." I speared a sausage from the table with my fork. With a rough bite, I tore into the slightly cold at and laughed. "I'm in great shape."