Martial Arts Ain't Anything Special
Chapter 131: The Preliminaries

Chapter 131: The Preliminaries

0% The Dragon Phoenix Tournament preliminaries inevitably drew countless martial artists together.

Despite setting high standards that barred mediocre practitioners from even setting foot in the preliminary rounds, thousands still qualified.

Could there really be so many high-level masters under thirty participating in this tournament?

One might question this, but it made perfect sense.

As a major event held once every four years, people flocked from across the Central Plains. Moreover, there was no reliable method to verify whether participants had truly passed their thirtieth year.

Ultimately, judgment came down to appearances—and many martial artists, who spent their days training under the harsh sun, aged prematurely.

Unlike the precious young masters of major sects, premature aging was an unavoidable fate for most martial artists.

This led to many over-thirty practitioners slipping into the Dragon Phoenix Tournament.

“I may look weathered, but I’m under thirty—I’ve just had a hard life!”

Who would challenge such claims?

In truth, few cared.

These age-fakers were merely mediocre talents anyway.

Martial arts, at their core, are techniques for killing.

While some pursued enlightenment through martial arts, success in a tournament required the ability to face real opponents.

Consequently, truly skilled practitioners inevitably gained recognition. (Unless they’d been hidden away in some mountain valley, studying under a reclusive master.)

With well-known martial artists unable to lie about their age, those who did fake their age were generally filtered out by the main tournament anyway.

“I will win...”

Amid these practitioners, Chunbong kept her eyes closed, struggling to maintain her composure.

A youthful woman with closed eyes, muttering to herself among weather-worn martial artists.

She couldn’t help but stand out.

“Must be from one of the major sects.”

“Obviously. Just look at that smooth skin.”

“Isn’t she too young?”

“If I’d downed spirit pills like those major sect bastards, I’d have been slicing up guys like you at her age too.”

“You’re full of shit.”

Chunbong ignored it all.

There was no reason to pay attention to such chatter.

Now was the time to focus.

“Examiners from arenas where all martial artists have gathered, please proceed with the preliminaries immediately!”

With that booming voice, the examiner in Chunbong’s arena gathered the martial artists.

“Amitabha... I am Hyebyeok, the examiner for Arena 13.”

Hyebyeok explained the rules of the preliminaries again.

Twenty people would compete simultaneously in each arena, with only two survivors qualifying for the next preliminary round.

With so many people fighting at once, there would be many variables. Weapon blades would be dulled to reduce casualties.

Nevertheless, strikes to vital points could still cause instant death, so killing was strictly prohibited.

Anyone caught deliberately killing would face immediate sanctions from Shaolin and severe punishment.

There were no other rules.

Cooperation was appreciated.

Chunbong opened her eyes after listening quietly.

Strange rules.

Group duels, dulled weapon blades.

These weren’t common methods.

Dulling weapons made sense since Shaolin was hosting, but group duels?

It seemed they didn’t want to drag out the Dragon Phoenix Tournament.

Perhaps unavoidable given the ongoing war.

Having accepted this, Chunbong showed her dulled blade to Hyebyeok and entered the arena.

After a short wait, all preparations were complete.

Twenty martial artists took positions around the arena, waiting.

Some exchanged glances, formulating strategies.

Hyebyeok had no intention of stopping them. There was no reason to interfere with actions within the rules.

Those without sufficient skill would be eliminated later anyway.

Hyebyeok scanned them once with his eyes, then declared:

“Begin.”

Immediately, about six martial artists rushed toward Chunbong.

Out of twenty participants, only two could advance.

Rather than avoiding someone who appeared to be from a major sect and competing for the remaining spot, they calculated it would be better to eliminate the strong opponent first, then fight for the two remaining spots.

“And they call themselves martial artists...”

Chunbong sighed and drew her sword.

Four wielded swords, one a spear, and one used bare fists.

With a light leap, Chunbong’s figure advanced toward the martial artists.

“Block her!”

“If she gets inside our formation, we’re in trouble!”

The first attack came from the fist-fighter.

Chunbong crouched to dodge and dragged her foot.

Swoosh-!

Her figure, sliding forward like a ghost, suddenly rose in the middle of the martial artists.

Swords surrounded her from all sides.

No need for the Blue Cloud Divine Sword here. As her blade traced a small circle, the four swords became entangled.

“Wha...!”

The martial artists were thrown into confusion. Before her stood the spear-wielder.

Since a spear would be the most troublesome when fighting multiple opponents, Chunbong charged directly.

“Tch...!”

With a hiss, the spear thrust forward. It aimed for her shoulder.

Her sword, which had already established position, twisted.

Crack-!

The spear slid along the sword’s surface and pierced empty air.

“That’s one.”

A palm strike from her left hand that wasn’t holding the sword.

“Guhk...!”

With a heavy thud, the martial artist flew far away.

Chunbong turned her hand and smirked.

“Easy.”

“You little bitch...!”

A martial artist with a flushed face charged.

Individual action when joint attack was barely enough? Much appreciated.

Chunbong’s sword shot forward without preparation.

“Hup...!”

The alarmed martial artist quickly turned his head.

Shik-!

The sword grazed his chin. But Chunbong smiled.

“That’s two.”

Thud! She flicked her wrist and struck his chin with the flat of her blade.

With the Internal Explosive Qi Strike added, the martial artist’s brain rattled, and he collapsed, vomiting.

The remaining four became cautious.

They exchanged glances and slowly backed away.

It was a temporary alliance after all. The psychology of hoping someone else would take the initiative was obvious.

Chunbong exploited this gap.

While they were busy watching each other, Chunbong aggressively penetrated between the four martial artists and jumped up.

Perhaps I should show a little more.

If anyone recognized the Blue Cloud Divine Sword, rumors would gradually spread.

That would create even more buzz when she revealed her identity in the main tournament.

Regardless of Chunbong’s thoughts, the four martial artists’ eyes gleamed.

Now was their chance, with her overconfidently suspended in mid-air.

Being skilled practitioners, their techniques unfolded instantly, not overlapping but targeting Chunbong’s entire body.

Then the Blue Cloud Divine Sword unfurled.

Cloud Flow Clear Sky.

Lee Seojun seemed to use it merely to deflect opponents’ attacks, but that wasn’t the essence of Cloud Flow Clear Sky.

Chunbong’s sword flowed lightly like a cloud.

Three swords. One fist.

Her sword, penetrating between these flows, naturally guided the current.

“Huh...?”

“Watch out...!”

Fumble-!

The attacks, guided by Cloud Flow Clear Sky’s flow, struck their own allies.

One fell from a punch, another vomited after being stabbed by a blunt sword, and another screamed as his knee buckled.

Only one martial artist, who barely evaded Empty Hand Great Void, expressed his shock.

“H-how...!”

“Well done.”

Chunbong smirked and struck the martial artist’s head with the flat of her blade.

“Ugh...!”

That made six. Finished.

“Hehe.”

With a crooked smile, Chunbong surveyed her surroundings.

The preliminary round wasn’t over yet.

Are you watching, Lee Seojun? The skill of Geum Chunbong...!

Chunbong’s smile somehow resembled Seojun’s.

*“Wow! Our Chunbong is doing great!”

Seojun jumped up and down among the crowd, cheering for Chunbong.

The glorious debut stage of the Most Adorable Under Heaven, Geum Chunbong!

After instantly taking down six martial artists who attacked together, she charged toward the remaining ones like a ferocious squirrel.

However, the ignorant crowd’s attention was directed elsewhere.

“Wooow...!”

“As expected of Wudang!”

Each time Muhye’s sword swept, a person went flying.

Her ink-colored sword energy flowed like water, forming a taiji pattern. Weapons and people caught in the taiji whirled through the air—admittedly a magnificent sight.

But that was all.

Anyone who could discern the depth of principle contained in a sword would have marveled at Chunbong’s Cloud Flow Clear Sky instead.

These ignorant masses, unable to see true merit and cheering only for superficial splendor.

They lacked the eyes to recognize a jewel—perhaps it would be better to pluck out those useless eyes immediately.

“These people, seriously!”

Unable to contain his frustration, Seojun forcibly turned the head of a man standing beside him.

“I’m telling you, that’s far more impressive than anything from Wudang!”

“How dare you belittle Wudang! Blasphemy! Let go of me!”

As the man struggled, Seojun subdued him with an arm around his shoulders.

“Can’t you see it? That swordsmanship is just... Look, that sword energy is nothing special!”

“I-is that so...? Now that you mention it, perhaps...”

“Did you see that just now? It’s not merely sword intent—there’s a perfect blend of speed and force...”

“Y-you’re right!”

This forcibly obtained agreement wasn’t particularly satisfying.

By the time the preliminaries were ending, most people were still raving about Wudang’s brilliance.

Occasionally Chunbong was mentioned, but probably due to being less flashy, she didn’t receive as much attention.

“This is why people without eyes for martial arts...”

Suddenly, he sympathized with the theory that those below the Peak Realm weren’t human but subhuman.

Should I grab them all and enlighten them by force?

As Seojun clicked his tongue, Chunbong, having finished her duel, walked proudly toward him.

“Hey, did you see that?”

“Our Chunbong! Of course I did!”

“Good. That’s how you use the Blue Cloud Divine Sword. Learn well.”

Seeing her inflated confidence, it seemed she didn’t care about people’s reactions at all.

Seojun forgave the ignorant masses.

As long as Chunbong was happy, it was fine.

“So are the preliminaries over now?”

“No. We’ve passed one round, so there will probably be more one-on-one eliminations.”

“Really?”

“You idiot. Did you even listen to anything?”

Chunbong explained that the main tournament would have 64 participants.

However, since the Nine Sects One Union and Six Noble Clans already filled some of those spots, fewer people could advance from the preliminaries.

The Sixteen Great Sects could send a maximum of 2 people per sect or clan, totaling 32 spots.

If they filled 20 of the 32 spots, the remaining 12 spots plus the 32 open spots meant 44 people could advance from the preliminaries to the main tournament.

“I see. Complicated.”

Seojun scratched his head.

Then a question suddenly occurred to him.

“Wait. Why is she here then?”

Muhye from Wudang.

Shouldn’t she be starting directly from the main tournament?

“How would I know?”

“This is ridiculous.”

Seojun grumbled.

“I wish she’d face our Chunbubbie in the preliminaries. She’d be eliminated immediately.”

“That probably won’t happen.”

“What? Lacking confidence...!”

Chunbong raised her middle finger.

“That’s not it. They won’t arrange the brackets that way. Usually, they separate notable participants.”

“Isn’t that rigging?”

“Who’s going to call them out on it?”

“I see.”

Fair enough. Nobody would dare accuse Shaolin of rigging.

And indeed, throughout several more preliminary rounds, Chunbong and Muhye never faced each other, both advancing to the main tournament.

Both demonstrated overwhelming dominance in their matches, naturally becoming the talk of the tournament.

Muhye of Wudang, and an unknown rising master.

When a martial artist who remembered Mount Hua’s tournament mentioned the title “Faceless Snow Sword,” it quickly spread as if it were Chunbong’s name.

The natural topic of discussion became who was stronger between the two.

“Obviously Wudang.”

“But the Faceless Snow Sword looked pretty formidable too.”

“Compare what’s comparable. I guarantee if they face off, Faceless Snow Sword will lose within ten seconds.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Most people predicted Muhye’s victory.

Seojun, listening to this, considered flipping their tables but restrained himself, knowing Chunbong would soon prove them wrong herself.

And so, without any particular surprises, she advanced to the main tournament.

“Too easy.”

Chunbong proudly became one of the 64 martial artists in the main tournament.

Throughout the process, she hadn’t even showcased her special techniques.

Chunbong’s growth had been so tremendous that, honestly, she could probably overwhelm most participants from the Sixteen Great Sects, except for a select few.

“The main tournament is in two weeks, right?”

“Yeah.”

Chunbong answered curtly, straightening her disheveled hair.

Evidence of Seojun’s vigorous congratulations.

“Where are you going? What’s with all the luggage?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Nothing? Where are you going?”

Chunbong frowned at Seojun, who was carrying a load of luggage. Seojun scratched his head.

“Um... staying out overnight?”

“With which woman?”

“Probably a man?”

“Hmm... that seems unlikely.”