Chapter 132: Tang Clan's Paper Flower

Often, when people in the martial world thought about the owner of the Heavenly Slaughtering Star, they inevitably imagined a blood-crazed, psychopathic killer completely intoxicated by slaughter.

And honestly? That wasn't entirely inaccurate.

But it wasn't the whole picture either. At the very least, those truly possessed by the Heavenly Slaughtering Star didn't typically descend into mindless berserker rages like rabid dogs, biting and tearing indiscriminately just to see blood spill.

Even the commonly perceived image of a 'blood-crazed killer' was often just an illusion, a deliberate facade adopted by past bearers of the Heavenly Slaughter Star.

Since individuals awakened to the Star appeared so rarely throughout history and seldom, if ever, encountered each other, using such a terrifying reputation as a method to conceal one's true self and deter unwanted attention was simply a pragmatic choice.

In reality, those truly guided by the Heavenly Slaughtering Star were often closer to meticulous, cold-blooded killing machines than mindless beasts.

Thanks to this influence, Qing’s own mind, now fully receiving the brutal energy of the Heavenly Slaughtering Star awakened within her after being wounded, sharpened instantly, achieving a state of almost preternatural clarity.

Her very first thought was one of piercing self-recrimination.

Why the hell didn't I realize something was strange sooner?!

Is Protective Body Aura supposed to be some kind of absolute magic barrier?! she berated herself. It’s not like it’s made of some futuristic superconducting shock-dispersing metamaterial! How could it possibly absorb all physical impact perfectly without transferring any force?!

(Qing, whose understanding of advanced physics was rudimentary at best, vaguely equated 'superconductivity' with '100% perfect efficiency'—a typically flawed assumption from someone with a social science background, now applied critically to Commander Cho Gwak.)

Fuck! It wasn’t even about Sword Energy versus Force Aura to begin with!

If I hit him that hard, that many times, with that much force… even if he wasn't just Cho Gwak but Cho Gwak’s immortal grandfather, some part of him should have burst open! There should have been bruises! Cracked bones, at the very least!

Her eyes, now devoid of their usual lively sparkle, replaced by an indifferent, chilling coldness, quietly observed Cho Gwak’s form across the training ground.

Looks like he’s completely lost his reason now, just running on pure killing intent.

Well then, she concluded calmly, that actually makes things much easier, doesn't it?

Keep the heart hot, but the head cold.

It was a common aphorism repeated by countless Masters throughout the martial world, yet it remained an ideal incredibly difficult for even those very Masters to consistently uphold, especially in the heat of battle.

When one loses their reason, completely surrendering to raw killing intent, they inevitably become… honest. Predictable.

Their eyes see only the target they intend to pierce. Their body follows directly, stripped of deception or feints. They become mere fools, utterly obsessed with the single-minded goal of slaughtering the enemy before them.

Feeling considerably more relaxed and confident now, Qing calmly prepared to meet Cho Gwak’s next charge.

The incoming sword tip wavered erratically left and right, suddenly splitting into three distinct phantom images—two aiming directly for her neck and heart, while the third curved downwards in a vicious diagonal slash towards her waist.

Qing instantly stepped diagonally, twisting her pelvis sharply while pulling her spine backward, arching away from the attack. A fierce sword-wind brushed terrifyingly close past her throat. Simultaneously, a sharp sting erupted on her chest— Ttakkeum!

Ack! Shit! He got me again!

Even as she registered the minor wound, one attack remained—the lowest slash aimed at her waist. Qing’s left hand darted out, touching the flat side of the incoming blade, not attempting to block forcefully, but gently pushing, subtly altering its trajectory just enough to slide past her.

Commander Cho Gwak’s body, overextended from the powerful three-pronged attack, swayed outwards, momentarily unbalanced as he followed the deflected momentum of his blade.

Qing instantly pivoted to her left, capitalizing on the brief opening, swinging the heavy Bokshinjeok flute in a tight arc. The end of the Ten Thousand Year Cold Iron staff cut through the air with a sharp shwaek! sound, aimed squarely at the vulnerable back of Cho Gwak’s knee.

Thwack!

A solid impact. Hitting the back of the knee forces the leg to buckle forward uncontrollably.

Commander Cho Gwak collapsed instantly into an awkward kneeling position, then tumbled forward, rolling messily across the ground before sprawling out several feet away.

Qing didn’t press the attack immediately. Instead, she stood calmly, breathing evenly, her cold eyes simply tracking Cho Gwak’s prone figure.

Even that direct hit… it felt like it didn’t land properly. Strange. Is it really possible for his defense to negate all impact entirely?

But would a powerful Unrestrained Realm master truly sustain significant injury just from rolling awkwardly on the ground a bit?

Of course not. After tumbling head over heels, Cho Gwak used the rebound momentum to spring instantly back to his feet, immediately adopting a fierce fighting stance and preparing to charge again, his eyes blazing with pure, unadulterated fury.

“I’ll kill you! You bitch! I’ll kill you without fail!”

Hmph. Look who’s talking, Qing scoffed internally.

She snorted derisively, then kicked off the ground herself, charging directly towards him instead of waiting for his attack.

Now that her opponent had completely lost his rationality, consumed by rage, he had actually become much easier, much more predictable to deal with.

This was precisely the state Qing always aimed to provoke in her opponents by running her infamous mouth.

(Of course, her newfound confidence also stemmed partly from the fact that her own mind had now cooled considerably, entering the focused, almost detached state granted by the Heavenly Slaughtering Star's influence.

But naturally, being currently unhinged by the Killing Star herself, this state simply felt completely normal to her; she didn’t perceive anything strange or unusual about her own ice-cold calm amidst the life-and-death struggle.)

She just figured that after continuously getting hit and suffering only minor cuts twice, she was finally getting used to his sword technique, becoming familiar enough with its patterns to anticipate and counter effectively.

Qing thrust the Bokshinjeok forward like a spear, aiming the tip directly at the guard of Cho Gwak’s sword.

The twisted force, applied precisely at the starting point of his intended sword path, disrupted his energy flow, causing his technique to lose direction, waver erratically, and dissipate harmlessly.

Simultaneously, she blocked his incoming claw attack with her forearm— Ack! Fuck! That stings! Hot! —and immediately followed through with a vicious kick aimed squarely at his shin. The unexpected blow caused Cho Gwak to lurch forward off balance again.

The Bokshinjeok became a blur, leaving afterimages as it swung around and struck—Pak!—solidly against the back of Cho Gwak’s head.

Commander Cho Gwak pitched forward, sliding face-first across the dusty Tang Clan training ground, carving a long, ignominious line in the dirt.

And as Cho Gwak staggered back to his feet yet again, clearly dazed but still fighting, Qing continued her cold, vicious calculations.

Okay, if I can just keep tiring him out like this, it should eventually work.

His Internal Energy isn't infinite, right? How long can he possibly keep spewing out powerful Energy Aura and maintaining that ridiculous Protective Body Aura defense?

But… what if he suddenly snaps out of it? Regains his senses before I finish him?

What if he just suddenly says, ‘Hoho, oopsie daisy, looks like I lost this round,’ declares defeat like a sore loser, and then just runs away? Can I realistically chase down and kill an Unrestrained Realm master who’s determined to escape? Probably not.

That won’t do at all.

What other effective means do I have at my disposal right now?

Buddha’s Palm? Nah, that results in too clean, too peaceful a death. Definitely hold off on that one for now.

Black Slaying Demonic Palm? If even the pure White Hand Demonic Arts couldn’t bypass his Aura effectively, that probably won’t work either.

Lustful Fairy Disrobing Dance? Please. A guy completely out of his mind with murderous rage probably isn’t going to suddenly go ‘Hehehe’ just because someone takes their clothes off.

Mentally reviewing her available skills, Qing extended the Bokshinjeok again towards the charging Cho Gwak.

One Hundred And Eight Asura Sword—Heavenly Falcon Grab!

The tip of the Bokshinjeok, extending with the focused mental imagery of a fierce falcon snatching a rabbit, struck precisely against Cho Gwak’s shoulder, disrupting the starting point of his Demon Subduing Sword technique once more, twisting his intended path so the blade swung wide, completely off course.

At that exact moment, Qing hooked her ankle around Cho Gwak’s leading leg and utilized the anti-gravity principle inherent in the Yue Maiden Footwork to stomp down hard on the ground while simultaneously pulling.

Commander Cho Gwak was instantly sent flying backward through the air in a wide parabolic arc, completely losing control.

Even amidst this rapid exchange, the cold calculations driven by the Heavenly Slaughtering Star didn’t cease. A vicious grin suddenly stretched across Qing’s face as a new idea formed.

Choi Leeong had been poised to intervene instantly, ready to unleash his single prepared Force Compression sphere the very moment Qing’s chest had been cut open by Cho Gwak’s sword.

However, he had stopped after merely assuming the preparatory stance, holding the attack back.

This was because the fundamental nature of the life-and-death duel had abruptly, completely changed.

Only Tang Nanah, whose martial insight was far lower, continued to stamp her feet anxiously, eventually rushing over to cling desperately to the Grand Clan Lord’s arm.

“Eek! What should we do?! We have to— Grandfather! We need to help Qing-ah! She’s hurt!”

“Let us wait and observe for just a moment longer, child,” the Grand Clan Lord replied calmly, his eyes fixed intently on the duel. “It does not appear to be a particularly serious injury. And above all… hoh… I find myself exceedingly curious to ask the Matriarch later exactly how she raises her disciples to fight like this.”

“What do you mean?! There’s blood! Blood is flowing…!” Nanah protested frantically.

However, after only a few more brief, intense exchanges, it was Commander Cho Gwak who was once again sent tumbling across the ground.

He kept getting back up, roaring in fury, and charging back in, but he was clearly busy just being thrown around, rolling ignominiously, being twisted off balance, and generally pushed back relentlessly. To any observer, it was an utterly pathetic, unsightly appearance for a supposed Unrestrained Realm master.

“Look there!” Nanah suddenly exclaimed, pointing. “Isn’t our Qing-ah actually winning now? But what should we do? There’s still blood! She’s clearly hurt!”

“That child…” the Grand Clan Lord murmured, his voice filled with genuine astonishment, “she has already completely deconstructed the opponent’s formal techniques and understands how to utilize their components freely. Her mind remains perfectly clear amidst the chaos, allowing her to see, react, and counter his attacks almost instantly. This… this is not an achievement one would normally expect from someone at her young age and apparent realm.”

Originally, martial arts techniques were learned as complete, sequential forms, practiced repetitively until their patterns were deeply ingrained in the body’s muscle memory.

For martial arts learned this way to exert their proper, intended power, the practitioner generally had to maintain the correct posture and execute the forms exactly as learned.

But how often could that possibly work perfectly in the chaotic unpredictability of actual combat, where even a single speck of dust could act as a critical variable?

However, as a martial artist accumulated vast experience through countless real battles, truly understanding the underlying principles governing the techniques rather than just memorizing the forms, they could eventually reach a higher stage—one where they could freely break down the techniques into their component parts and utilize those individual movements flexibly, creatively, as needed in any situation.

Of course, in Qing’s case, she had completely, utterly freeloaded her way to this stage.

It wasn't that she possessed the profound understanding needed to deconstruct and utilize techniques freely based on experience. Rather, from the very beginning, the martial knowledge embedded directly into her brain via the system consisted entirely of already fully deconstructed, component movements, ready to be combined and executed at will.

Furthermore, her fundamental physical statistics—strength, balance, flexibility, stamina—had already developed far beyond normal human limits due to the Overhaul Rebirth.

Consequently, whenever she used a technique, the scene visualized in her mind was almost instantly, perfectly realized in physical form, executed with an ideal efficiency most cultivators could only dream of achieving after centuries of dedicated practice.

“But… but that other guy is still completely fine!” Tang Nanah protested, still worried.

“Is she not merely making a lot of noise, while actually striking him rather softly?” the Grand Clan Lord countered thoughtfully, stroking his beard. “From what I can see, it looks less like a desperate life-and-death battle, and more like she is deliberately using this Unrestrained Realm master as a high-level training partner.”

The Grand Clan Lord, having deduced the situation so well up to this point, finally took a wrong step in his analysis.

If Qing had heard his assessment, she likely would have loudly questioned whether Poison Grandpa had finally gone completely senile himself.

Meanwhile, one also had to admit that Commander Cho Gwak’s resilience was somewhat impressive; despite being knocked down and humiliated more than ten times already, he still hadn’t regained his senses, continuing to charge blindly forward fueled purely by rage.

Well, perhaps it was understandable; being utterly unable to handle a mere girl young enough to be his daughter, rolling pathetically on the ground repeatedly… his fury would naturally only intensify, not diminish.

As a result of this prolonged, increasingly embarrassing spectacle, rough thoughts, uneasy glances, and frankly disloyal murmurs began to gradually spread among the ranks of the observing Embroidered Uniform subordinates.

Honestly? It was just an unsightly mess.

It was in the midst of this deteriorating situation…

Suddenly, instead of charging forward again, Commander Cho Gwak froze in place, standing stock-still, his eyes wide with a completely new expression of utter shock and disbelief.

“Princess Haryon? How is it that you are in such a place…?” he stammered out loud.

And then, every time he subsequently opened his mouth, it was just a continuous stream of absolute nonsense.

“That will not do! How can you possibly be in a place like this?!”

“Y-You must maintain your dignity! Your imperial dignity!”

“No, no! I too… I also feel…”

“Princess! No! Chehye! Hye-ah!”

At his increasingly frantic cries, sharp gasps of shock erupted from the assembled government troops standing behind the Censor.

Princess Haryon was, literally, a princess of the current imperial dynasty.

And her actual given name was not Haryon.

Haryon was merely a title, a designation bestowed upon her by the Emperor himself.

The true personal names of Imperial Family members were considered so inherently noble, so sacred, that merely uttering them aloud was considered a profound sin against Heaven itself.

That was precisely why they couldn’t simply be called by their names; it was considered an act of august imperial consideration that the Emperor had specifically designated her to be called ‘Haryon’ in public instead.

Nevertheless, here was Commander Cho Gwak, shouting the Princess's intimate name ('Hye-ah!') in broad daylight, with countless people present on the main grounds of the Tang estate! It was a terrible capital offense, an act of blasphemy so profound that simply calling it ‘disrespectful’ couldn’t possibly capture the severity of the transgression.

Even seasoned martial artists, who often held the Imperial Family in contempt like a neighborhood drum, generally didn't dare to utter the true personal names of imperial family members aloud.

But Commander Cho Gwak’s bizarre eccentricities didn’t stop there.

Suddenly, he threw his sword away carelessly. Then, fumbling frantically at his waist, he undid his belt and roughly dragged down his pants.

Erecting his 'thing' proudly, as if displaying it for all to see, he placed his hands on his hips and began vigorously, obscenely shaking his waist back and forth at empty air.

“Haha! How do you like it!” he roared lewdly. “For a princess of a great nation to be so incredibly lewd! Chehye, you bitch!”

To exaggerate only slightly, it seemed as if the collective sound of blood draining instantly from the faces of everyone present could be heard as loudly as rolling thunder.

The assembled government officials, Imperial Censor, and Embroidered Uniform guards all simultaneously turned deathly pale, their faces becoming stark white as their pupils trembled uncontrollably with horror and disbelief.

“You call yourself a princess, but you’re just a useless whore!” Cho Gwak continued his vile tirade, still humping the air frantically. “This hole of yours is so damn loose! Even fucking the empty air would probably feel better than this, you bitch!”

Well, Qing observed clinically, he is actually fucking the empty air right now, so…

Everyone else likely swallowed similar thoughts unspoken.

“Tighten up right now, damn it!” Cho Gwak screamed, seeming to reach some kind of climax. “You fucking bitch! Who the hell have you been rolling around with besides this Elder Cho Gwak, huh?! Princess, my ass! Was ‘Haryon’ just the stage name for some common whore all along?!!”

As he yelled this, he kept striking furiously at the empty air with one arm, creating a spectacle too terrible, too bizarre, too utterly mortifying to watch directly.

He was so completely immersed in his hallucination that even as Qing cautiously approached him to retrieve his discarded sword from the ground, he remained entirely oblivious, busy just shaking his waist frantically.

Qing infused all her remaining True Energy into the edge of Cho Gwak's recovered sword.

Once again, Sword Energy of various mixed colors—red, white, purple—burst out in brilliant, unstable radiance.

Qing stomped the ground hard, creating a deep depression beneath her feet.

The incredible force generated by that powerful stance traveled up from her soles, through her ankles, knees, and waist, amplifying as it went. Then, unleashing all that accumulated power, she launched forward in a lightning-fast thrust aimed directly at Commander Cho Gwak’s exposed lower abdomen.

Even though he was lost in a powerful hallucination, it seemed his Protective Body Aura remained active… or perhaps it was simply ineffective against this kind of attack while in the midst of… that act.

Nevertheless, the blade snapped instantly with a sharp /crack!/, unable to withstand the resistance it encountered, as if stabbing solid steel.

Seriously? How could a sword possibly fail to penetrate someone with such a ridiculously tough body, even with their Protective Body Aura potentially weakened?! Qing thought, frustrated again.

Is it some kind of special External Art he cultivated?

Is this the legendary Invincible Vajra Body they talk about?

Cho Gwak, now effectively skewered through his lower abdomen and back by Qing’s broken blade, looked down at her with eyes filled with utter disbelief and confusion.

“Princess…?” he gasped out weakly. “Why…?”

It seemed the potent effects of Poison Grandpa’s drug persisted even after being impaled through his energy center.

Well, Qing reasoned, if simply being stabbed with a sword could magically detoxify potent poisons, what use would antidotes possibly be?

Might as well just administer one good sword-puncture instead of bothering with acupuncture.

Instead of offering an answer, Qing took another deep breath and shouted loudly, ensuring everyone could hear clearly.

“How dare you utter such vile insults towards the Princess!! I cannot possibly let this stand!! How dare you!! Towards… uh… who was it again? Right! Towards the esteemed Princess Suyeon [^(Random name Qing likely made up)]!!! Blasphemy against the imperial family is unacceptable! I hate blasphemy! Criminals like you shall receive… castration!”

At the same exact moment she yelled the final word, Qing’s foot lashed out in a vicious kick aimed squarely between Commander Cho Gwak’s legs.

BOOM! With a sound like a stone wall collapsing, Cho Gwak’s entire body flew upwards, nearly one and a half stories high, before crashing back down hard and rolling limply across the ground.

This time, the feeling was definitely there.

That distinct, visceral sensation of utter pulverization—the pubic bones on both sides in the front of the pelvis, the tailbone area in the back—all simultaneously shattering into fine powder. That was the unmistakable tactile feedback Qing had been seeking.

Above all, the secondary sensation of soft flesh caught between the pelvis and her instep being crushed and mashed into paste was satisfying… no, truly, deeply, profoundly satisfying. The absolute definition of maximum satisfaction.