Chapter 1: The Final Duel

I’ve lived as a human for nearly a hundred years now—an unusual longevity for our kind.

“You’re Wu, aren’t you? At your age, can you really still fight?”

Although a century had passed and he had experienced most of life’s ups and downs, he had devoted almost his entire existence to the martial arts he worshipped. In his quest to create the ultimate martial art, he had consumed his own life force. Now, with a gaunt, aged body and skin covered in scars, he knew death was not far off.

Wu looked at the youth before him and smiled.

Unlike his own decrepit form, the youth radiated vitality like the morning sun. From his very appearance, one could discern the blazing aura of a blood-red wolf smoke—a sign of peak vitality. Moreover, the youth was a long-lived demon, with a maximum lifespan of a thousand years, far beyond Wu’s own. In fact, this youth might even be older than himself.

“That’s right. I’ve long forgotten my real name. Now, I am undoubtedly Wu.”

“The current sect leader of the Wudou Sect, said to be one of the last martial arts masters in the Alliance. Am I wrong?”

“You flatter me. Though I have confidence in my strength, the Alliance hides dragons and tigers. There are always experts.”

“Enough talk. One question: can you still throw a punch?”

The youth raised his hands into a standard boxing stance, his demonic power surging like a turbid torrent. Just from that power, Wu could tell how extraordinary the youth was—far beyond his own ability.

Wu chuckled, then placed his left hand behind his back and extended his right hand forward.

“Give it a try, and you’ll find out.”

Still, he had lived a hundred years. Even if that was only a tenth of a demon’s lifespan, for a human, it was enough time to accumulate achievements. In his eyes, this youth was still too green.

“Sect Leader of Wudou, Wu—come on!”

Wu calmed his mind and spoke the words he had said most often over the past century:

“—Let’s decide the victor!”

The next second, the duel began. Without a moment’s hesitation, the demon youth charged forward, his entire body augmented by demonic power, transforming into a ferocious beast. Was this envy or admiration? This was the charm of youth—the ability to act recklessly. It reminded Wu of the joy he had felt in his own younger days.

The oncoming fist was pure, without any trickery—a straightforward punch. But what set it apart from ordinary martial artists was its speed. It exceeded normal limits, almost derailing his dynamic vision. Just the wind from the punch conveyed the destructive force.

Seeing that punch, Wu understood: this youth, true to his demon nature, belonged to a combat style that revered violence. He squandered his youthful energy freely. The punch was not only powerful but also, because of its purity, hard to counter technically. It was a test—a test of whether Wu could still endure.

‘Good!’ Wu smiled in the face of that wind. This was a real duel—no need to hold back because he was old. Fighting with abandon, risking life and limb, purely for victory—that was a duel!

And coincidentally, he loved this style of combat.

His half-closed hand clenched into a fist in an instant. He twisted his ankle, engaging his whole body. His previously casual stance shifted abruptly. He assumed the Wudou Sect’s starting posture: [Steel Fist Form]. The inch force in his right fist exploded, colliding fiercely with the youth’s punch, producing a sharp crack.

The youth, who had charged in a straight line, flew back at the same speed, tumbling several times in the air before landing. Wu, on the other hand, left two deep footprints on the ground and took a step back.

Of course, that didn’t mean Wu was superior.

“…Hey, for a human, you’re ancient. Are you still that concerned with saving face?”

The youth walked back slowly, irritation in his eyes as he looked at Wu.

It was only natural—Wu had actually gotten the worse end of that exchange. Compared to the young man, his bones had already become brittle. Although outwardly unharmed, the bones in his right hand had likely developed cracks. The impact had probably caused internal injuries as well…

There was nothing to be done. Wu was too old, too old to have much combat strength left. That punch had been his full power, and the result was a superficial victory paid for with a body full of wounds.

“How boring. This is why humans are such a hassle—you’re too old to fight, yet you still spar with me… I’ve lost interest.”

The youth clicked his tongue in annoyance and turned to leave…

“Don’t be in such a hurry to leave, young man.” Wu stopped him.

“…What now?”

“I’ve been waiting—waiting for someone like you. To be honest, I didn’t think anyone would still admire my reputation and come to challenge me at this age… It’s wonderful. I’m very satisfied.”

Wu took a deep breath, then circulated his demonic power. Unlike the youth’s turbid energy, Wu’s power was like a clear spring, pure and transparent, without any impurity. It was unimaginably vast, quickly surpassing the youth’s and climbing higher. Simultaneously, Wu’s entire body erupted with the same aura. Blood flowed, black energy swirled on his skin, and it rapidly rose.

“Is this… At your age, you can still manifest the blood-red wolf smoke?” The youth marveled, a fighting spirit rekindling in his eyes. Witnessing this, Wu laughed heartily. Then the wolf smoke and demonic power contracted together, enveloping him. The black wolf smoke emerged and then burrowed back into his body, over and over again. Finally, standing before the youth…

…was a black-haired young man in his twenties.

“…………How is this possible?” The demon youth was stunned, disbelief in his eyes.

“Demonic power is a force that creates miracles. Doing something like this isn’t impossible.” Wu smiled like a child. Intimidating this fearless child gave him an inexplicable sense of achievement.

A body at its peak—perfect vitality. His entire being was filled with a long-missed vigor. He hadn’t felt this in ages. Wu stretched and laughed out loud.

“Come on. This will be the last duel of my life. I’m glad you were willing to challenge me, young man.”

“This is… No wonder my father always praised the human race. You really can create miracles!!!”

The youth charged again. This time, Wu was not passive. His left hand guarded his waist, his right hand half-clenched and extended, his whole body crouched low. This was the complete [Steel Fist Form]—the strongest offensive starting stance of the Wudou Sect.

“Bring it on!”

Punches! Consecutive punches! The demon youth, charging in, attacked within a step of Wu. His hands flashed, sending at least eleven fist shadows at Wu’s vital points. The overwhelming wind made it impossible to tell which were real and which were illusions.

But sometimes, such illusory fists were meaningless.

After all, he was just a youth.

“Haa!”

Wu’s counter was a single punch—the same straightforward strike as before, aimed straight at the youth’s heart. Faced with a barrage of illusions, the correct response was not defense, which would be impossible to guard against. Instead, one should attack—strike at the vital point and force the opponent to defend. That was the best strategy!

“Ugh.”

The response was successful. The youth was forced to halt his storm of attacks. But that was exactly Wu’s counterpoint. At the same time, he stepped forward, using both hands and feet. His hand changed from a fist to a palm and thrust forward. His left hand blocked the youth’s defense, while his right hand pressed against the youth’s abdomen. Then, surging demonic power gathered in his palm and detonated.

As if struck by a bull, the youth was sent flying again, nearly horizontal to the ground. For an ordinary person, that one blow might have decided the victor. But the demon youth was clearly different. Why? Only racial and age advantages could explain it.

“Hah… hah… You’re an old man, but you’ve got strength.”

“Young people sure can take a hit, haha.”

The youth gritted his teeth, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Although that palm strike had wounded him, he was far from dying. Wu felt a sincere envy for the youth’s vitality.

If only he could recklessly waste his youth, stretch his body to its fullest.

This current body, after all, was the result of overexerting [Tianji]. He had probably burned through the few remaining years of his life. There wasn’t much time left.

Wu felt his power fading, but he assumed his stance and looked at the youth.

“If I had met you earlier, I might have taken you on as my second disciple, young man.”

“Enough talk! I haven’t lost yet! Again!”

“But I don’t have much time left, and I can’t be your teacher. Let me show you the ultimate technique of the Wudou Sect.”

Wu took a deep breath, emptying his mind. Everything except the youth vanished from his perception. In his vision, the world seemed to fall into eternal silence. Sounds disappeared. In this silent world, only Wu could move.

As he had envisioned when designing the technique, he infused demonic power and blood into his muscles. The only thing he could rely on in his life was this body—this tempered, refined body. Now, he needed it to complete this.

Wu lifted his foot and stepped forward. His restored young body experienced a long-forgotten pain. Even the flow of blood stimulated the ache, scorching like molten lava. But even so, Wu remained calm and even smiled.

All around, the world was silent. The demon youth, who should have reacted quickly to Wu’s movements, did nothing. In Wu’s world, his expression slowly changed, his hands and feet slowly shifted—he wasn’t doing nothing; it was just that his speed was too slow.

Yes, too slow. Or rather, Wu was too fast.

Surpassing the speed of sound, sound was left behind. This was a world of silence, and he was its master.

“Hehe, haha—”

He couldn’t help but smile, but no laughter escaped—or if it did, he couldn’t hear it.

This was a technique born from imagination, a key to proving the greater potential of the Wudou Sect. He had now stepped into a stronger realm. This was the pinnacle of martial artists, a corner of the unreachable sky.

Perhaps there were still those who could reach an even higher level, for the pinnacle was not the limit.

But even this pinnacle was enough to excite Wu.

“[Kaiyang].”

He silently spoke the name of the technique, then stepped forward and finally stood before the demon youth.

Unlike himself, this youth still had room to grow, more youth, and higher talent. He would surely become stronger in the future, even stronger than Wu.

So consider this a gift.

Before reaching the pinnacle, experience the pinnacle’s power firsthand. This was Wu’s gift to the next generation. You are the ones to usher in a new era. Take this punch and then march toward the pinnacle, and even toward the extreme that Wu himself had never reached!

He threw a punch. In that timeless, silent moment, Wu struck his only blow.

The next second, time returned to normal. That simple punch transformed into an incomparable storm that engulfed the youth, the sharp crack of breaking bones echoing endlessly—not only the youth’s, but also Wu’s.

The lamp of life ignited by [Tianji] had nearly burned out. He had reached his end.

What a shame.

Wu thought from the bottom of his heart.

In this hundred years, he had only focused on becoming stronger. No wife, no descendants. Aside from his only disciple and one confidant, he had no other relationships.

What a shame.

Wu made a decision.

If there is a next life, I hope to have a longer lifespan, to experience more, to enjoy more on the path to the extreme, not just sacrifice my life to become stronger.

The lantern reel ended. Wu’s youthful body instantly disintegrated. The body forcibly sustained by demonic power, as the power dissipated, shattered into countless crystals, scattering on the ground and drifting away with the wind. And Wu’s consciousness, in that moment, also sank into darkness.

The End!