I Became the Martial God's Youngest Disciple-Chapter 170

I finally shook Mir off and headed for the rooftop. On the way, I reflected on the strange sensation that had washed over me—the sudden rush of heat and cold combined. I had never felt anything like it before. It was unfamiliar, almost unsettling, yet the more I pondered it, the clearer something became.

Is it due to the Yin-Yang Dao? Divine weapons, artifacts, and tools all shared one trait: they operated beyond the capabilities of ordinary objects.

Senior Brother He Lou's three weapons followed this principle. The unity of the Yin-Yang Dao extended beyond the weapons themselves. It affected the wielder as well. In other words, by possessing the Yin-Yang Dao, I could instinctively control and harmonize opposing energies.

Yang and Yin. Heat and cold. Fire and ice. The reason those two conflicting energies had merged for a moment was that I, influenced by the Dao of Yin and Yang, had subconsciously balanced them both.

Could this be a clue? I had assumed mastering the purple flames was the key to reaching the Third Stage of the First Fire Technique. But maybe another path existed.

This was what martial arts had always been like. Just as there was no single trail to the summit of a mountain, I only needed to find the path that suited me best.

It is a pity. Honestly, it annoyed me to stumble across a breakthrough like this without the chance to act on it. If the world were a little more stable, I would've vanished into the mountains to focus entirely on training. There was a reason closed cultivation existed.

Even so, I doubted I could cut myself off from the world so easily. As soon as that thought surfaced, Bai Luguang came to mind.

What kind of life has Master lived? I often wondered about this since my regression. He was the strongest martial artist I had ever known. How had a man, no different from the Martial God himself, come to retire alone on the remote Spirit Mountain? He had even gone to the trouble of gathering disciples from other worlds.

Is it to raise his own enemies? That seemed like the most plausible explanation, especially given Master's eccentric nature. Still, who could say for sure? I couldn't shake the feeling that his reasons went deeper than anything I could unravel, even if I mulled over it for 100 days.

The unnecessarily long hallways only fueled my wandering thoughts. I shook my head and pushed them aside.

The place where I was to fight Barter was on the rooftop. Naturally, it was the largest space in the building. The lack of obstacles was just an added bonus.

Unexpectedly, a familiar face stood at the stairs leading up to the roof. It was Prince Glenn Scarlett.

What was I supposed to say? It felt awkward to run into him here. Our last meeting had been far from pleasant. Then again, I didn't feel especially sorry for him. He was pathetic in my eyes, but he hadn't crossed any of the lines I'd drawn.

I was human too, after all. I judged people through a subjective, biased lens. By my measure, Glenn hadn't truly crossed the line.

So what was my criteria? Was it to be more pathetic than the Luan Badniker of the past?

"Luan," Glenn said firmly.

I tilted my head. "Do you have something to say?"

Maybe my flat tone caught him off guard. The dumbfounded Glenn pressed down the brim of his hat and said, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I've been thinking about what you said back then. At first, I was furious. thinking, What the hell does he know? But then I heard you saved every student in this building. The dean said you rushed in the moment you heard our screams. And you never even revealed your name. You didn't save them as a Badniker. You saved them as Luan alone, and because of that, you earned their respect." As Glenn spoke, he lifted his head and squared his shoulders

He met my gaze directly. "Everything you said to me was true."

I heard this but couldn't bring myself to ask what I really wanted. What did I say again?

I tended to forget things I didn't consider important. Since I was the only one who knew, I just nodded roughly.

"You even stood your ground in front of Sir Barter, and you carry out your own will—"

I waved my hand and cut him off. "Alright, alright. That's enough."

"What?"

"You apologized, and I accepted it. I hold no ill feelings toward you. Let's just dismiss what happened in the tavern as an argument," I said,

"Y-yes."

"Is that all you came to say?"

Glenn hesitated at my question. As I suspected, he wasn't here just to apologize.

"I don't have much of a relationship with my sister," he blurted out.

"Yeah?"

"Every member of the imperial family has someone they lean on. Life might be miserable, but having that one person makes it bearable. They're like a beacon."

What was he trying to say? I could have ignored him and walked away, but something about Glenn's desperate expression stopped me.

"Is the sister you said you wanted to see your beacon?" I asked.

Glenn smiled faintly. It was the most honest expression he had shown since I met him.

"That's right. My older sister cared more than anyone. Everyone liked her, but she lacked a strong imperial bloodline. That's why she was eliminated. I mean—" Glenn suddenly shut his mouth.

A heavy silence hung between us as his red eyes locked onto mine.

One thing was clear now. He stood before me, struggling to put his thoughts into words.

"I don't think Perist had anyone like that," Glen stated.

I hummed in response.

"I'm not trying to make excuses for her. What she did was wrong. So many people got caught in the fallout that I can't even call it a mistake. She'll have to pay the price. But the reason I'm telling you this... how should I put it? I thought you should know. Honestly, I didn't want to say it out loud." Glenn hesitated, then added, "Sometimes I have premonitions. It's a gut feeling, as a member of the imperial family."

When he finished, he let out a long sigh.

At that moment, I finally remembered the kind of conversation I had with him before. And like always, I just started saying whatever came to mind. "You know, Glenn, you..."

***

A strong wind greeted me the moment I stepped onto the rooftop. Even in this twisted world, the wind still blew fiercely.

More people stood on the open rooftop than I had expected. It wasn't just Barter. Dean Alderson and the hero disciples were there too. I spotted Marco and the other Special Forces members gathered beside Barter.

"Brother Luan!"

Even Butterfly was here. I didn't remember seeing him in the Otherworld before. When had he arrived? Still, he was skilled and had blessings. It wasn't surprising that he was still alive.

Butterfly approached me with a tearful expression. "W-what is wrong with you?"

"What?"

"You are dueling my brother!"

"Indeed."

"You do realize he's the leader of the Special Forces! I know you're strong, Brother Luan, but you're only on the level of a hero disciple..."

I ignored Butterfly's desperate pleas, his talk of changing my mind or to think of Seren, and pushed past him.

Only then did I notice the expressions on the hero disciples' faces in the distance.

"You think Luan will be okay?"

"Of course not. His opponent is the eldest son of the Goodsprings. He's also the captain of the Special Forces."

"In terms of age, Sir Barter is ten years older. That kind of gap isn't easy to bridge, no matter how talented you are."

"What is he thinking?"

Surprisingly, they all looked worried—even Charon, Hector, and Seren, who knew a few things about me.

"Is it that guy? The Badniker kid who challenged the captain without knowing who he was up against?"

"It's absurd. Even Heero Badniker couldn't stand up to the captain."

"If he's the youngest of the Badnikers, wasn't he so hopeless that even the Iron-Blooded Lord abandoned him? Makes sense."

The Special Forces members standing behind Barter openly sneered.

The only ones who looked unbothered were Alderson, Evan, and the clueless Mir.

Their reaction was natural. At this point, Luan Badniker was the epitome of failure. That image had been partly deliberate, but the current situation was different.

At the very least, I needed to leave a mark on everyone here. If an emergency arose, they had to follow my orders without hesitation.

I used Thunder Stomp Footwork, and the sound of my footsteps swallowed the chaotic atmosphere.

The moment my foot hit the ground, true Qi surged from my soles and spread like a pulse. A thunderous vibration rang out in every direction, shaking the entire building.

This was the martial art I had created—Luan Badniker's signature technique.

I had taken only three steps, but the stares around me changed.

"What the hell is that movement?"

"The mana flow was wild and overwhelming. I reflexively braced myself."

"How old is Luan Badniker?"

"Have the Badnikers been hiding this talent all along?"

The Special Forces members stared at me in disbelief.

I ignored them and focused on my opponent. Barter stood with a large shield in hand. If he raised it properly, it could shield his entire upper body.

"I'd like to propose a format for our duel," I said.

He didn't look surprised. The moment he saw my Thunder Stomp Footwork, his expression had tightened. The contempt was gone.

He replied, "Speak."

"Let's settle this in one blow. You seem confident in your defense. If you can block my strike, I'll concede."

Barter's eyebrows twitched. "That sounds very advantageous to me."

"Not necessarily." Having time to gather strength was a great advantage for me, a master of the White Sun Eclipse. However, Barter didn't know this.

"Why did you come up with that format?" he questioned.

"We have to preserve our mana. It isn't known what will happen to us if we fight properly. What if we get emotional and one side gets seriously hurt or dies? We haven't even fought the princess yet," I explained.

Barter would've laughed off that kind of reasoning before I used Thunder Stomp Footwork. Now, it was different. He stared at me before nodding. "I will accept your proposal."

He slammed his shield into the ground and crouched behind it, using it like cover. I could sense layers of blessings stacking on his sturdy frame.

"Blessing of Iron!"

"I didn't expect the captain to prepare like this."

"He has fully activated the Divine Shield. Even a giant's fist won't break through."

In the meantime, I took a battle stance and focused, letting the onlookers' voices fade into the background. I kindled a fire in both mind and body, nurturing a small spark in my heart that drew warmth from every part of me.

My opponent was Barter Goodspring, the super genius of the Goodspring family, rivaling even Heero Badniker. I sensed that someone of his caliber was giving his all against me. If that were true, it would be disrespectful to attack with a careless mindset. I didn't know how far I could push myself, but I was determined to try my best.

I tensed my muscles and forced my vena cava to accelerate circulation. My clenched fist stiffened like steel, layered with internal energy, as if I were painting them with power. Meanwhile, my body temperature rose to the perfect level.

I exhaled a heated breath and saw the raised shield with Barter standing behind it. The martial art I intended to use was the opening move, Scorching, from the White Sun Eclipse. I planned to combine it with the essence of my recently mastered Force Palm and the Internal Heavy Strike favored by Second Senior Sister. If executed well, the shield's strength would not matter.

I drew a deep breath and charged forward. A thrilling surge of internal energy shot up from the soles of my feet as I activated Thunder Stomp Footwork. Then, Lightning Qi flared to life, streaking up my calves and thighs before coiling tightly around my fist.

It's unity again. The thought made me laugh. In my eyes, the images of fire and lightning had always overlapped. Both tore through barriers, and no metal shield could stand against lightning.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears. My tense muscles held steady, channeling the intricate flow of internal energy. Then I punched the shield.

White Sun Style's 1st Move, Scorching

Bangggg!

"What?" someone murmured in disbelief.

Nothing happened. The shield remained unscathed, and Barter, standing behind it, showed no sign of injury. It was just as I intended.

Barter said nothing. He stood rigid, like a stone statue, shield raised, eyes wide with surprise.

Though the strike caused no internal damage, the remnants of my internal energy had coursed through his entire body. The unwelcome sensation of foreign mana invading his flesh must have felt like a worm writhing beneath his skin.

At that moment, he must have understood. If I had wished, I could have torn him apart from within with a single blow.

No. Maybe he didn't fully understand. This strike had many layers—the manipulation of internal energy flowing not only through the veins but coursing through every muscle in the body, the core of the Force Palm I had discovered during the battle against the demon legion commander, the Internal Heavy Strike that Second Senior Sister favored, the sudden fusion with Lightning Qi, and finally, the precise, measured ounce of restraint directed at the opponent.

How much did Barter actually understand? I wondered.

"Barter Goodspring," I said, tilting my head. "Do you understand now?"