The Crown Prince Who Raises Alt Characters

#Episode 178 Scholar Juyul - Fire Within the Flower "Just because it appears beautiful, you must not carelessly touch it. It will burn you to the bone." *** One of the old sayings passed down in the martial world. Beware of women, children, and the elderly. In a way, it was an obvious story. You must be careful of women because you never know what thorns they might harbor within. You must be careful of children because they might be masters who regained their youth through rejuvenation. You must be careful of the elderly because if they survived to that age, they might be hiding secret techniques. Some might ask this question in return. If you exclude women, children, and the elderly, only young men remain, and since they are the most physically robust beings, shouldn't you be careful of them too? In the end, by that logic, wouldn't everyone you meet in the martial world be a subject of caution? That's correct. Because that saying is merely a variation of the martial world's survival rule: 'Don't be deceived by appearances, and never let your guard down.' After all, you naturally guard against opponents who obviously look dangerous, so this emphasizes once more not to let your guard down even against opponents who don't seem particularly dangerous at first glance. An utterly obvious saying. Words that everyone has heard to the point of boredom. Conversely speaking. It was also proof that despite being so obvious, there were countless people who ignored or forgot this. "Haha, beautiful, so beautiful! I haven't seen your face around here before—what's your name? Come here and pour me a drink while you tell me." At the words uttered by a young man, a subtle silence fell within the inn. The gazes of the guests quickly moved back and forth between the young man who spoke and the woman who heard his words. First, the gazes toward the young man could be summarized as 'that scoundrel is at it again.' The Black Little Devil, Dokgo Cheol. In terms of martial realm, he had barely escaped the third-rate level, but in terms of villainy, he was a scoundrel notorious for being worse than first-rate warriors. He was the worst of the worst—it was said that if you gathered all the people who had been beaten into cripples by Dokgo Cheol and all the women who had shed tears after being forcibly embraced by him, you could make a small village—but since he was the legitimate son of Dokgo Gang, the sect master of the Black Blood Sect that dominated the surrounding area, no one could stop him. (E/N: Yeah, I guess that guy name is Gang. Funny name huh) Meanwhile, the gazes toward the woman were like this. 'Huh, at that level, it's no wonder a man would be bewitched!' The woman's appearance was extremely glamorous. Her vivid red hair was pinned up with hairpins, and she added elegance with hair ornaments reminiscent of living flowers and large earrings. Her tightly fitted martial robes clearly revealed the curves beneath, and the valley visible between her widely opened chest seemed to draw the gazes of not only men but even women. The black horns protruding from her head and the tail extending behind her body were somewhat alien, but considering that after the ancient Heavenly Dragon Great War, those with dragon blood had flowed into the martial world in large numbers, it was rare but not bizarre. If one had to find a flaw, it would be the sword scar carved on her face, but before the woman's glamour and beauty, even this was merely seen as an ornament and didn't feel unsightly. Many of the inn's guests anticipated the future that would unfold before that beautiful woman and let out sighs, but some people's reactions were different. "Huh?" "Gasp!" Someone frowning as they tried to recall something. And someone whose complexion had turned pale, trying to leave the inn almost as if fleeing. As the surroundings grew increasingly restless, the woman's mouth opened. "Did you just tell this lady to pour you a drink?" Several guests who heard the woman's voice reflexively flinched. They hadn't realized her identity, but they were people who sensed something from her tone and atmosphere. However, Dokgo Cheol, who had grown up arrogantly in the warm embrace of his sect all his life, lacked the most basic qualities that a martial artist should possess—namely, perception and survival instincts. Therefore, he ended up squandering what might have been his last chance to escape the situation. "Hehe, even your voice is noble! Come on, what are you doing? Hurry and pour me a drink, won't you? Or do you want me to come over there myself?" At Dokgo Cheol's words, the woman snickered and stood up. The moment Dokgo Cheol was about to reach out his hand with a sinister smile at the sight of the woman approaching him. Crack! Dokgo Cheol's wrist, which had been extended toward the woman, was bent in a direction it couldn't possibly remain in. "Aaaaahhhhh!!" As Dokgo Cheol clutched his hand and screamed, the three Black Blood Sect disciples around him simultaneously drew their swords. "Young, young master!!" "How dare this bitch!!" "Are you saying you'll take on the Black Blood Sect!!" The lines they spouted were truly like the stereotype of third-rate villains, but surprisingly, their skills weren't third-rate at all. Whooom! The faint clusters of light rising from their swords. This was clearly sword aura, and at the same time proof that they were martial artists who had reached the pinnacle realm. Judging by the clarity of the sword aura, they were at best at the early stage or beginner level of the pinnacle realm, but this was excessive power for thugs traveling with a mere scoundrel. A man who was cold to civilians but warm to family. This was the result of Black Blood Sect master Dokgo Gang deliberately placing skilled individuals beside his son for his safety. "Ugh, ahhhghhh! Uhhhghhh!" Clutching his broken wrist, Dokgo Cheol sobbed while shedding tears profusely. Considering how Dokgo Cheol had mocked others in the past for making a fuss over lesser injuries after he had inflicted greater wounds on them, this was truly a hypocritical attitude, but wasn't that the path of human trash—being unable to walk it without enduring such contradictions? Moreover, Dokgo Cheol's thugs and guards also felt like crying. 'Fuck, we're screwed.' 'The sect master will be furious!' '...Just killing her won't work. We need to capture her.' If they killed that woman and returned like this, Black Blood Sect master Dokgo Gang's fury would be poured entirely on the guards. But if they captured the woman and dragged her before him, they would likely be pushed aside as minor players. Exchanging tactics with just their gazes, they simultaneously swung their swords toward the woman's limbs without anyone taking the lead. It was quick judgment and bold action. It just wasn't wise. "Ha." Right after a short sneer escaped the woman's mouth, the bodies of the guards who had been charging forward retreated at twice that speed. It wasn't a voluntary retreat. The proof was that clear marks of impact remained all over their bodies. Concavely dented sides, half-crushed temples, and clearly smashed chests. There was no process of merely targeting their swords as a warning or subduing them with pressure points. At the murderous techniques that seemed to care nothing if they died, several spectators watching the situation gulped. The woman who had subdued the three guards in an instant approached Dokgo Cheol, who was crouched on the floor clutching his wrist and writhing. "You told me to pour a drink, so I should pour it, right?" After uttering those words with a sneer on her lips, she picked up the wine bottle from Dokgo Cheol's table. A moment later, something like red heat shimmer seemed to emanate from the woman's hand, and soon steam began billowing from inside the wine bottle. "A dragonkin with a glamorous appearance who uses Blazing Yang Energy martial arts... Zhang Hualing of the Seven Hegemons!" One of the guests who had been struggling to recall something since earlier raised his voice as if he had finally found the answer. The other guests also couldn't contain their astonishment at this. Seven Hegemons. More precisely, the Heretical Seven Hegemons. In the current martial world where most of the existing top-tier masters had either died or gone into seclusion due to the aftermath of the Orthodox-Heretical Great War, they were skilled fighters considered as candidates for the next strongest alongside the orthodox faction's Eight Heroes. "Huk, huhahk, huhk...!" Was it because he finally realized what he had provoked, or was it because he feared the boiling hot wine bottle that was waiting to be poured over his head at any moment? Black Little Devil Dokgo Cheol turned deathly pale as he gasped for breath. At that moment, one of the fallen guards spat out a mouthful of blood and shouted as if squeezing out the words. "St-stop!! We apologize for not recognizing the noble one and committing rudeness, but that person is the one and only son of Black Blood Sect master Dokgo Gang! If you make your techniques any more cruel than this, you'll make enemies of all thousand disciples of the Black Blood Sect!" The guard's words contained some of the martial world's characteristic exaggeration. Strictly speaking, the Black Blood Sect's disciples numbered around three hundred, not a thousand, and most of them were nothing more than street thugs who didn't even deserve the name of martial artists. However, it was a clear fact that the Black Blood Sect was the sect that dominated this entire surrounding area. In contrast, though Zhang Hualing had her name listed as one of the Seven Hegemons, she was merely an individual without any substantial subordinate forces. No matter how outstanding a master might be, their internal energy wasn't infinite, and a master whose internal energy was depleted could struggle with life and death even against a mere thug's blade. In other words, making the Black Blood Sect itself an enemy would be burdensome even for Zhang Hualing. Sure enough, Zhang Hualing's motion to tilt the wine bottle paused for a moment. The guard, judging that the threat had worked, quickly continued speaking to solidify the situation. "Although there was an unfortunate misunderstanding, it's merely a light disturbance that occurred in a tavern at most! How about acknowledging that both sides were at fault and withdrawing at this point!" "What if I don't withdraw?" "The Black Blood Sect will also have no choice but to see this through to the end!!" Did the desperate threat work? Zhang Hualing straightened the tilted wine bottle back up. Dokgo Cheol and the guard relaxed their faces for just a moment. Crack! When Zhang Hualing crushed the bottle in her grip, the contents inside poured down over Dokgo Cheol's head along with the heated fragments. As Dokgo Cheol rolled on the floor with terrible screams, Zhang Hualing spoke to the guard who had a stunned expression. "This lady hates those with long tongues. If you have the energy to chatter back and forth with words, then boldly attack. I'll crush and smash you all." A declaration that was not just confident but even arrogant, as if she feared nothing whether there were hundreds or thousands of them. Only then did the guard recall Zhang Hualing's epithet. Lady of Trampling Fire. Trampling meant crushing something underfoot, and it carried the meaning of violating not just physical aspects but also mental aspects like the opponent's rights or dignity. A thoroughness that guaranteed retaliation once provoked, regardless of whether the opponent was strong or weak. A persistence that would chase to the ends of the earth once a grudge was formed, stubbornly achieving her purpose. Even among the many foul-tempered individuals in the heretical path, she was a venomous creature and madwoman whom everyone unanimously declared 'don't mess with that one.' The guard's vision went dark. *** "Coming to a new province, it's quite different in many ways. In You Province, there was no one who dared to pick a fight with me after seeing me." Walking through one of the many cities in Mao Province, which was among the most populous of the Liu Empire's twelve provinces, Zhang Hualing thus evaluated the situation that had just occurred. She had made three people into half-cripples and even poured boiling water (calling it water was appropriate since most of the alcohol would have evaporated) over one person's head, but Zhang Hualing felt not the slightest guilt or hesitation about her actions. The martial world was originally such a place. A place where the sword was faster than words, and where right and wrong answers were determined not by logical correctness but by the level of martial prowess. The reason Zhang Hualing could walk the streets so boldly was because she had power, and the reason she could face Dokgo Cheol's pathetic schemes head-on was also because she was stronger than them. If it had been the opposite? By now she would have become Dokgo Cheol's plaything, suffering humiliation worse than death. So what should she do next? Since the Black Blood Sect wouldn't stay quiet anyway, should she rather attack first? But it would be more convenient to sweep away those who had deliberately gathered their forces in one go rather than dealing with scattered individuals one by one. It was then that the conversation of passersby reached Zhang Hualing's ears as she was lost in thought. "So he really teaches reading and writing?" "Yes. Not just our language, but music, calligraphy, archery, mathematics, and even the languages and techniques of the western regions—he teaches it all!" "If he knows so much, must he be a renowned scholar from somewhere?" "It seems he's quite a young scholar. That's why some people are hesitant, saying they can't trust him." "Hmm, well, it is suspicious. Learning is something that's usually passed down among prestigious noble families. To think he would generously bestow it even on ignorant people like us." "Doesn't it seem like there's something behind it?" A strange smile formed at the corners of Zhang Hualing's mouth as she listened to their conversation. 'A mysterious scholar.' Zhang Hualing disliked those called scholars and academics. She considered them people who chattered about useless things that were of no help in surviving as if they were something great. Only well-fed people who didn't fear whether they could safely open their eyes tomorrow before falling asleep, and who didn't need to worry about where to find their next meal, would spend their energy on such futile pursuits. 'Giving him a hard time once wouldn't be bad.' With her eyes full of mischief, Zhang Hualing headed toward the academy where the mysterious scholar was said to be.