I Became the Martial God's Youngest Disciple Episode 162

Episode 162

I did not intend to provoke Khajitta. The being before was a demon, after all. Like a wild beast, it likely did not understand when a person insulted it. I doubted it was possible to provoke such a creature by human standards. What I requested was simply an honest expression of my feelings.

"I understand." Khajitta's distinctive, scorching voice carried a surprisingly calm tone as he stared directly at , standing so close. "Your power seems to capture the sun's heat, granting its owner resistance. I admit I misjudged you."

Even as he spoke, the flas around this fire demon flickered violently, as if dancing. The air grew hotter by the second, and my tension rose.

"You deserve to face ," Khajitta declared.

The mont he finished, a fierce wind swept in. Rough air currents ford a whirlwind around him, far more intense than before. The iron bars rattled loudly, producing a chilling sound. Still, I did not cover my ears.

His palm pressed against my abdon. It was not an attack but a seemingly idle gesture. Still, it happened fast. Despite my alertness, I couldn't react in ti. I barely managed to wrap concentrated internal energy around my abdon before his hand made contact.

The compressed air exploded with a sharp detonation, cutting off the swirling heat instantly. Flas then burst from his palm. This was a technique known as the Force Palm. The concentrated energy around my abdon shattered like glass, and pain rolled over in slow waves. I felt a sharp sting from my back, followed by a strange sensation of floating.

Damn. I had been sent flying across the prison, landing at its far end in a blink. Only after soaring dozens of ters did I realize how hard I had been struck. The iron bars bent like soft marshmallows, softened and deford by the intense heat on impact.

I forced down the blood rising in my throat. The blow was so severe it would have been no surprise if I lost consciousness.

Should I thank Carzakh? I wondered.

The belt at my waist contained the Cold Qi of the Sapphire Snake. It had absorbed so of the flas. I was lucky. What if the strike had hit my chest or head?

I pushed aside those useless thoughts and stood up. My stomach throbbed, but I moved my limbs without difficulty.

"I didn't expect you to stand up." I heard Khajitta's voice.

"I didn't expect you to get up," Khajitta said.

I opened my mouth to reply, "Because I'm a bit strong..." but I stopped myself. Instead of wasting energy on words, I needed to calm down first.

The opponent wasn't a fool. Whether his claim that I deserved to fight him was genuine or empty words, Khajitta kicked off the ground and charged at .

His change is too abrupt. Just monts ago, he had dismissed without a glance. Now he attacked like I was his sworn enemy.

Though Khajitta had been far away just seconds before, he appeared before in the blink of an eye. The rising heat pressed heavily against .

I channeled my internal energy. Cold flas coursed through my veins, sharpening my senses and letting react in ti to escape.

Then his fist collided with my palm in midair.

"Haha!"

Was that laughter? With no facial expressions to read, I couldn't tell if I had imagined it.

I didn't have ti to dwell on it and launched into a rapid exchange of blows. At close range, I used every ans of attack at my disposal—arms, legs, forehead, knees, and elbows.

It will be hard to use the White Sun Eclipse. Even the simplest attack, Scorching, demanded careful preparation and focused energy. I couldn't afford that in close combat with Khajitta.

This was my first extre speed battle since my regression. I had to raise internal energy as quickly as I burned through it.

Fists and gauntlets, feet and boots collided again and again. Still, I was the one taking more damage. I felt the concentrated energy surrounding my body crack under the strain. Since the training camp, I had never doubted the total amount of internal energy I possessed. Now it lagged behind the intense consumption against Khajitta. My reserves drained quickly.

It failed to keep up with the speed and consumption battle with Khajitta. My internal energy quickly ran out.

"Internal energy is the foundation of martial arts. No matter how much you have, it will never feel enough. So Luan, thinking 'This is enough' or 'I'll never run short' is arrogance you should never indulge in."

Stupid bastard. I inwardly criticized myself. Why had I only rembered this after experiencing it myself?

I exhaled a hot breath. My body ached with layered fatigue and accumulating damage, my energy had hit rock bottom, and even breathing took effort.

Was it just exhaustion? No. This felt different.

Ah... it is because of the flas. The realization struck a beat too late. Had madness dulled my senses? Probably. Hellfire seeped through the cracks in my concentrated energy, and a burning sensation spread across my skin.

I endured the pain without flinching. At the sa ti, a laugh escaped . I wasn't bluffing, nor was I insane. Though I didn't understand why, inspiration struck as I experienced the hellfire firsthand.

Still, it remained unclear. It felt like I could grasp it, then lose it again. The inspiration flickered like restless flas. I attacked in a half-trance: block, dodge, block, collide, attack again, block.

This ti, I couldn't dodge, and his fist slamd into my thigh. Weakness washed over , nearly forcing to collapse. I forced strength into my creaking knees and barely held my ground.

Our fists clashed once more, and my right wrist bent in an unnatural direction.

Ah... More than pain, I felt regret. I wanted more. I believed I could fight a little longer.

Damn body. This frail, still-developing, immature fra irritated . Too young. Not even five years old—if I had three, or even just one more year, I could have fought far better. I even wished I could have held onto this inspiration more firmly.

Only now did I understand Khajitta's regret. This was a martial artist who truly mourned the outco. The fight did not co down to skill, finesse, or split-second judgnt. It was the difference in bodies that decided everything.

A simultaneous strike hit my forehead, chest, and abdon. A dull pain spread through , and I gasped and collapsed to my knees.

"Wonderful." Then the relentless attacks stopped, and the flas covering the area vanished.

I knelt, staring at my battered skin. It looked ugly.

"I will rember your na, Luan Badniker." His voice, faint as dying embers, marked the end of the battle.

Regret settled deep inside as I heard him speak.

Is this really it? Since the academy crisis, I had feared this last resort but avoided it until now. The Spirit Mountain's Blessing. In this mont, in this place—was I about to regress?

No, I told myself.

"No." I forced the word out. I didn't want to use it, so I got up.

My internal energy was gone, but my body still obeyed. That alone ant the odds weren't zero. I forced myself upright, ignoring the protests of my broken body. My spine trembled, and my legs shook beneath . My left thigh, still numb from a direct hit, made limp like soone struck by an arrow.

"Can you still stand up?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it is still worth it."

"I see." Khajitta's blue flas flared once more. "I respect you."

Heat surged from all sides once more. I couldn't help but laugh. This opponent never lowered his guard until the very end. I appreciated it as proof he recognized as a true martial artist, though it was sowhat irritating.

Khajitta stepped forward, closing the distance slowly.

The mont stretched thin as my mind raced for a way to turn the tide. I still had just enough ti to use White Sun Eclipse, but my internal energy was running dangerously low. At best, I could manage one final strike.

Still, I knew using White Sun Eclipse with what little strength remained would lead to inevitable defeat. I needed another option. However, what did I have?

Pain flared across my body, the burns sapping my focus. I could usually tolerate pain, but this ti, it was unbearable. It felt like my entire body was engulfed in flas.

Engulfed in flas? Suddenly, that sensation sparked a flash of inspiration.

I focused on the heat radiating from my skin once again. Since I had stopped using the First Fire Technique, Khajitta's hellfire had been burning against . Thanks to that, I could feel it clearly—the intense heat of true hellfire.

It isn't lukewarm at all. I shook my head, recalling my earlier pretentious words. The First Fire Technique, this mind thod, could absorb all flas in the world. Yet I hadn't fully absorbed Khajitta's fire because Hell wasn't part of my world. So what was the solution?

Well, it is simple. I just needed to expand the boundaries of my thinking. In other words, I had to expand my world. This mont made understand why martial artists risked everything for sudden inspiration.

A brief rush of pleasure ran down my spine, washing away the pain. I absorbed the hellfire's heat left on my skin into my body. For a mont, two types of flas stirred inside at once: hellfire and cold flas. Red flas and blue flas.

What should I do with this? rging them would be best, but it was beyond right now. Surprisingly, the hellfire resisted blending with my internal energy despite being a fla.

I have no choice but to use them separately. It would weaken my power, but this was the most practical way to win.

Then, out of nowhere, the impossible happened. The ceiling shattered, and a weapon, cloaked in both light and shadow, fell through the opening between Khajitta and .

"This...!" Khajitta's voice was sharp with surprise.

I calmly stared at the sword, a dao with a sleek curve. At the end of the hilt, a distinct Yin-Yang symbol was engraved. It was the Yin-Yang Dao, the weapon of Senior Brother He Lou.

Before I could question why it was here, I grabbed the hilt. Thankfully, my right wrist was injured, not my left. I was more skilled with my left hand, so handling the sword would be easier.

The Yin-Yang Dao's function... This mysterious dao could fully embrace opposing forces and rge them into the most perfect form. Yin and Yang combined flawlessly, even when dealing with the two most conflicting energies in the world. That was the true power of the Yin-Yang Dao. In fact, rging different types of flas posed no challenge at all.

I poured every last ounce of my energy into it. The Yin-Yang Dao embraced the two flas completely. As the red and blue flas intertwined, a fla of impossible color was born.

"Purple flas," Khajitta muttered, his voice hollow.

I felt the intense firepower surge from the dao's hilt. At the sa ti, I wiped every sword technique from my mind. None of those moves could handle this fla.

I'll have to rely solely on my senses. I moved instinctively, settling into the most natural stance. When I ca to, the dao was already pointed at Khajitta. "This is the second round, Khajitta."

I understood it because I had accepted it with my own body—the nature of hellfire, its traits, its essence, and even its searing heat. And in that mont, I realized sothing more. This purple fla had the power to consu even hellfire itself.

"Let's turn up the heat."

***

Leone moved closer to Alderson, concealing her presence with careful precision. She knew the prison's layout well. Even if she didn't, it would not have been hard to hide from Khajitta's weakened energy detection.

She had been steadily closing the distance when she glanced back through the sweltering heat. In the distance, she saw Luan locked in combat with the legion commander.

I can't believe he attacked head-on. She thought it was reckless. No matter how weakened Khajitta was, this was still a legion commander. He wasn't an opponent a single hero disciple could defeat alone.

Luan should have fought to buy ti and then fled without looking back once Alderson's rescue succeeded. Wasn't that the original plan?

Leone clicked her tongue, but she soon changed her mind.

Leone clicked her tongue but quickly reconsidered. Luan refused to back down. His eyeballs burned, his skin blistered, and his wrist shattered, yet he kept exchanging blows with the legion commander.

The hellfire's pain was unimaginable. It scorched not just flesh but crushed the soul itself. Anyone with a weak mind would collapse just by touching it.

That didn't happen with Luan. Rather, he laughed with burns all over his body.

Leone stared in stunned silence. His smile in the face of such suffering glead with rare brilliance.

Unfortunately, this is his limit. The mind could never fully conquer the body. If soone severed their tendons, they would be unable to hold a sword again. If they broke their spine, standing would beco impossible.

Luan's body was failing. Soon, he would be nothing but ashes. Any martial artist at his level would feel the end drawing near.

Still, his smile never faded. He was the kind of human who wouldn't break from pain alone.

Leone was fond of such humans. She wanted them to live as long as possible. That wish quickly grew into a strong impulse—an urge to act against reason, beyond any plan.

"Impulse is also a human prerogative," she said with a laugh, then dropped to one knee.

In the dark and hot basent under the dark ceiling, Leone's right hand rested on her chest as she prayed, "O six holy judges. O fairest of gods. O transcendent one who deceives without malice. An ordeal has befallen your emissary. Grant us the sight to pierce through all falsehood. Grant us the strength to punish our enemies. Let this be the proof of the pact between us."

A deep crimson aura surged from her body, rising like red flas.

"O Colorless Judge, gaze upon your apostle, trapped in a struggle with no escape. If this hardship must be endured, grant him great strength. If strength is beyond reach, offer him a word of guidance. And if even that is too much, then send him a handful of blessings."

Flas swirled through the dark prison.

Leone's eyes burned far brighter and redder than the flas themselves. "This Dark Pope humbly beseeches you."