Chapter 316. I Became a Flatterer.

With Ximen Martial Emperor before him, the White-Clad Scholar turned his head and looked at me.

“Sect Leader.”

“Speak.”

I wondered what nonsense this bastard was going to spout before a spar, but unexpected words flowed from the White-Clad Scholar’s mouth.

“This time, I created a martial art.”

“And?”

“Watch it and give it a fitting name.”

Did this arrogant bastard have no talent for naming things?

Since getting them to fight was the important part, I accepted at once.

“Understood.”

I was curious as well what sort of thoughts this bastard lived with. He looked like arrogance and a desire to show off had been mixed together, and he also looked as if he had lost his mind in front of a crowd.

Was this the essence of an artist?

In any case, it was certain that displaying such insolence before a formidable foe like the Martial Emperor was madness in itself.

Ximen Martial Emperor also spoke in an incredulous tone.

“Are you saying you intend to test a newly created martial art against me?”

The White-Clad Scholar looked at Ximen Martial Emperor and said,

“Is there any reason I cannot?”

“What a truly remarkable nobody. Then may I watch now?”

“You should. However……”

The White-Clad Scholar covered half his face with his folding fan, then spoke as if issuing a declaration of war.

“Do your utmost.”

Perhaps it was a proper provocation, for Ximen Martial Emperor’s complexion instantly changed from incredulity to rage. After that, to hell with courtesy or anything else—the two charged at the same time, and the spar began.

The Martial Emperor swung his hand, and the White-Clad Scholar swung his folding fan.

As if compressed gusts of wind had collided and then spread in all directions, the surrounding air changed in an instant.

It was not a hot day, but the waves of qi heated the air.

The man who could courageously tell the Martial Emperor to do his utmost moved quickly while swinging his folding fan, and the Martial Emperor, who looked somewhat excited, moved as if placing greater emphasis on offense than defense.

Within a scene that harmonized quite well, the White-Clad Scholar’s movement arts were indeed especially outstanding, while Ximen Martial Emperor moved firmly, mainly unfolding palm techniques.

Because both of them were fast, the unusually white folding fan stood out even more clearly to the eye.

That folding fan deflected Ximen Martial Emperor’s palm force, altered the direction of his hands, and at times folded shut to stab at the Martial Emperor’s body.

Before long, the fan was being used like a brush, a shield, a judge’s pen, and a saber.

Before long, the White-Clad Scholar moved freely as though he intended to use the entire wide sparring stage, while Ximen Martial Emperor followed him tenaciously from beginning to end.

Who would have thought there could be elegance even in pursuing and being pursued?

When the White-Clad Scholar evaded the Martial Emperor’s attacks one after another despite seeming close enough to be caught, the spectators also fell silent in an instant.

It was because they had realized that the nobody’s martial arts were truly exceptional.

Was I the only one?

Gradually, this spar began to look like a moving painting.

In any case, since I was a spectator, I could not grasp each and every deception and profound meaning within the techniques flashing past so quickly.

Only the results of what was intended were visible to the eye.

Perhaps because of that, the White-Clad Scholar soon looked like a painter wielding his folding fan like a brush, and Ximen Martial Emperor looked like a man in the painting chasing after a white butterfly to catch it.

Both were fast, but the artistic beauty of the painting was still lacking.

The reason the folding fan looked like a brush was that, from time to time, the White-Clad Scholar’s qi flowed out from the tip of the fan.

Gray butterflies, white butterflies, and dark ash-colored butterflies rippled.

On top of that, because the White-Clad Scholar used the movements of Ti Yun Zong as his footwork from beginning to end……

Even while being chased one-sidedly by the Martial Emperor, he was creating the rare spectacle of not appearing weak.

‘Both of them are incredible.’

Suddenly, I looked around anew, wondering if there was anyone here besides me who was appreciating the White-Clad Scholar’s spar as though it were a painting, but it did not seem like there was.

Then did that mean I was the only person who could name his martial art after all?

I was slowly becoming unable to tell whether the White-Clad Scholar was fighting right now or creating art. After all, this bastard was the sort who had set up a desk and painted the tragedy of Ilwol Gwangcheon even while I was fighting the Demon Cult.

Painting was a hobby, and fan dancing was a hobby.

Sneaking into the Murim Alliance to watch was entertainment.

Testing a newly created martial art against the Martial Emperor was madness.

Since all of that had melted into his martial arts, he was certainly no ordinary human being.

Looking at it that way, it was not especially strange that the White-Clad Scholar had asked me to name his martial art. In the jianghu, I alone understood this bizarre White-Clad Scholar’s inner world to a certain degree.

‘He was not called the Demon Gentleman for nothing.’

In truth, the standard of martial might symbolized by the title “Emperor” in the jianghu was fairly well established. As the Ghost Demon had said, it was below “God” or “Saint,” but they were still masters who had reached a realm other martial artists could not easily approach.

Was that why?

This confrontation was, anew, also a confrontation between the Martial Emperor and the Evil Emperor.

It could not help but be fierce.

Of course, since he had revealed himself to the world like this, there was a high chance the title Evil Emperor from my previous life would not attach itself to the White-Clad Scholar. The White-Clad Scholar had not revealed evil against Ximen Martial Emperor, but he was in the midst of proving the aspect of a sovereign within the Murim Alliance.

Only then, while appreciating the fan dance unfolding upon the blank sheet that was the sparring stage, did I belatedly realize that this was a martial art derived from Ti Yun Zong.

I had thought the White-Clad Scholar’s movements were irregular from beginning to end, but that was because of Ti Yun Zong.

It felt like Ti Yun Zong with a fan dance added to it.

Ti Yun Zong was originally a superior martial art that freely controlled the weight and lightness of the body in order to move swiftly and lightly. But the White-Clad Scholar was also using the principles of Ti Yun Zong with his folding fan.

Should I say he made his body light and changed direction with the fan?

No matter how much of a genius Ximen Martial Emperor was, predicting this was difficult.

In other words, with a single swing of the folding fan in his right hand, the White-Clad Scholar instantly moved a short distance, thrust out a left palm strike, anticipated Ximen Martial Emperor’s attack, and evaded it with the wind from his folding fan.

In the midst of that, finger techniques also burst intermittently from the White-Clad Scholar’s left hand. Ximen Martial Emperor instinctively jerked his head, and a clump of his hair was cut away and fluttered through the air.

The murmurs of the crowd swelled, then slowly died down.

But Ximen Martial Emperor was not a man to be beaten easily either, so he too looked remarkable as he saw through and responded in real time to a martial art he was witnessing for the first time in his life.

It would not have been just me.

Had the people of the jianghu ever seen such a splendid spar in their lives?

I dare say they had not.

The reason people could not help but focus was likely because beneath it lay the expectation that the white butterfly would eventually be caught by Ximen Martial Emperor.

Up to this point, that would have been the view of most spectators……

But I was different again.

I knew the White-Clad Scholar’s sinister inner nature, and when I had actually competed with him in palm force, though it had been a surprise attack, I had been pushed back.

At the time, the White-Clad Scholar’s finger technique had shone with white, gray, and dark-gray light. Right now he was making a damned spectacle of himself, asking me to name his new martial art while dancing with his fan, but if Muje’s attacks grew fiercer, the martial arts he had originally mastered would suddenly come bursting out.

If that happened, who would win?

I could not predict victory or defeat, but there was one thing I did know.

‘It will end in a contest of palm force.’

Right now, Seomun Muje was following the winding maze carved out by the fan dance, running straight toward the White-Clad Scholar’s trap.

The emotion ruling the man pursuing that arrogant butterfly was rage.

And when an enraged man runs hastily through a maze, he is bound to run into an unexpected wall.

If even this was a calculated battle of minds, then for now, the White-Clad Scholar was superior in that regard.

When he finally struggled out of the maze……

At its entrance, the White-Clad Scholar would present him with a surprise gift in the form of three streams of finger force.

Seen that way……

This was the White-Clad Scholar’s scheme, a fan dance that bewitched with butterflies, and also the grand picture he was painting with his fan as his brush.

Without the slightest shame, he asked me for the name of his newly created martial art.

Before Seomun Muje, he bewitchingly displayed the fan dance he had newly mastered.

And when the enraged Seomun Muje struck a blow.

If he had even prepared a counterattack capable of crushing that blow……

Then that bastard truly was a genius obsessed with art.

By the way, was the skill I was seeing from Seomun Muje now truly the extent of his martial might if pushed to the very end? Somehow, that might already seemed trapped once within the frame called a sparring match, and then trapped yet again within the White-Clad Scholar’s painting.

Even if he tried to break free of that frame, he would not be able to unleash killing moves.

Because this was a sparring match of the righteous path.

Seomun Muje must have sensed that something was strange as well, for his whole body became wrapped in currents of energy, and he began introducing variables in order to leap out of the painting. It looked as though he was trying to escape the maze.

The White-Clad Scholar fled even faster.

In truth, with a single step of Tiyunzong, he was fast enough to cross half the sparring platform. Even the Lust Demon seemed impressed by the White-Clad Scholar’s lightness skill and let out an exclamation.

“He really is fast.”

I looked around for a comrade, wondering if there was anyone else who had witnessed what I was seeing, but I could not find one easily. Still, I was able to see Im Sobaek watching with a serious gaze.

Just then, Seomun Muje, who had been chasing the White-Clad Scholar, opened his mouth.

“Just how long are you going to…….”

He was speaking in this situation? Though it was a choice made in an instant, the moment Seomun Muje opened his mouth, he wrapped lightning qi around his right palm as if preparing a counterattack.

Crackle, crackle, crackle!

It was different from the Baekjeon Ten-Stage Art, but the instant blue light crossed over his five fingers, the White-Clad Scholar abruptly appeared as though charging with Tiyunzong and, truly fair and square, met his palm head-on to contest palm force.

Kuwaaaaaaang!

I had expected it would not be an ordinary palm force, but the moment they exchanged palms, the two staggered backward as though they had torn their way out of a painting.

“Huh?”

In my estimation……

Seomun Muje must have unleashed one of his ultimate techniques.

And the cunning White-Clad Scholar must have gone all out with the intention of ending the match entirely.

Seomun Muje looked down at his own hand, then fixed his gaze on the White-Clad Scholar.

“…….”

Silence settled over the place, making it impossible to judge who had won. However, perhaps because some sort of exchange had passed between them in their hearts, the two did not launch another attack.

It looked, if anything, like they had already entered the time for reviewing the match.

For an instant, Seomun Muje’s complexion turned pale, then slowly reddened. It looked as though two kinds of palm force had penetrated his body, and he was resisting them with his internal energy.

The White-Clad Scholar grinned as he stood perfectly fine.

“Muje, are you all right? You endured the Chaos-Shattering Palm rather well.”

With an expression showing no particular damage, Seomun Muje asked the White-Clad Scholar,

“A peculiar martial art. The palm force came in layered, with a time lag. Don’t tell me you were waiting for me just now?”

The White-Clad Scholar nodded.

“How many breaths’ worth of time did I just buy? Answer me.”

Seomun Muje let out a long sigh and answered in a bitter tone.

“Two……”

In other words, while the White-Clad Scholar waited, Seomun Muje had apparently taken two deep breaths and treated his internal injuries.

Because this was a sparring match of the righteous path, it was an exceedingly subtle point.

If the White-Clad Scholar had not waited those two breaths and had rushed in instead, not only would the offensive have reversed, but Seomun Muje might even have vomited blood. The basis for that lay in the palm force they had just exchanged and the depth of their internal energy.

In other words, whether or not he admitted defeat now depended on Seomun Muje’s attitude.

Suddenly, the White-Clad Scholar, who had been waiting for Seomun Muje’s answer, asked me,

“Sect Leader, have you thought of a name for the martial art?”

To think such an awkward moment would come.

The White-Clad Scholar was looking at me with such a serious expression that I could not avoid answering.

“It is too difficult……”

The White-Clad Scholar forced an answer from me.

“Even so, say something.”

“I cannot recall a name, but I do have an impression of the sparring match.”

“What is it?”

After organizing what I wanted to say, I recited my impression of the match.

A painter dressed in white danced with a fan in hand.

The fan, dipped in blood and swung, became a brush.

Yet even while displaying peerless skill, not a single drop of blood stained his white robes.

If he hides away, he is the White-Clad Painter.

If he reveals himself to the world, he is the White-Clad Martial Emperor.

Even the butterfly that played within the painting seemed to live and dance.

Though Seomun’s Martial Emperor gave urgent chase.

The Martial Emperor dressed in white was elusive as well.

When I finished delivering that bout of nonsense, the White-Clad Scholar stared at me in silence.

“…….”

I could not read his expression at all, nor tell what on earth he was thinking. But as the assembly fell quiet, the White-Clad Scholar spoke to me with a serious face.

“……Thank you.”

Had it comforted him?

I unexpectedly received his gratitude. Regardless of victory or defeat, I gave a cupped-fist salute to the White-Clad Scholar, who had splendidly concluded his sparring match with Seomun Muje.

“Not at all……”

I drove the point in once more to the White-Clad Scholar, who was also an important figure in the martial world.

“I do not know whether you will become a painter who dips his brush in blood to paint, or a Martial Emperor who does not let a single drop of blood stain his white robes, but now all of the martial world has learned of Master White-Clad’s excellence.”

I met the White-Clad Scholar’s eyes and spoke with sincerity.

“Congratulations.”

You may have thought that was the end, but I did not forget Seomun Muje, who had not lost the dignity of a righteous-path master. I paid my respects to Seomun Muje as well.

“Senior Seomun, to think you could respond so calmly to a peerless martial art the world has never seen before—this junior has learned a thing or two.”

After living this long, I had become a flatterer.

‘Haa…….’

Coaxing and soothing grown-ass bastards made me wonder what the hell I was even doing, and yet…….

Seeing Seomun Muje finally stroking his beard with a rather pleased expression left me with complicated feelings. In any case, I was known in the jianghu as an arrogant lunatic, so the number of people who had ever received my praise was extremely small.

Still, had he really been that happy to be praised by the guy who’d been going on about balls and whatnot?

Seomun Muje’s expression after finishing the spar had grown considerably brighter as well.