— — — — — —
A flash of golden light split the air. The ground cracked open, torn into countless jagged scars.
The concrete runway, once smooth and solid, now looked like it had been plowed by invisible steel wires. It crumbled to dust with a sharp, grating sound.
"Cough—cough!"
Choking on the rising white haze, Lu Yinghua covered his nose and searched anxiously at Luo Hao.
"Master?" Yinghua found her, but she wasn't moving.
A creeping sense of dread gripped him. His eyes went wide, and a moment later his expression froze in a mix of shock and disbelief.
A gust of wind swept by—and Luo Hao's body dissolved into white sand, scattering like smoke on the breeze.
"Maaaaster!"
Lu Yinghua's cry was raw, his voice hoarse as tears spilled uncontrollably down his face.
But though he wailed and sobbed, the corners of his mouth kept twitching upward, little by little.
'No, no, don't laugh. My master just died. A disciple absolutely can't laugh right now. But hell yeah~'
The harder he tried to hold it in, the funnier it became.
Sure, he knew that as the disciple of Luo Hao, his life was about to get very miserable, but still—just thinking about how the woman who had been tormenting him since childhood was finally gone… he just couldn't stop the grin from forming.
'I think my gynophobia might be cured after this!'
There were even happy tears in his eyes.
"!"
Watching Lu Yinghua try—and fail—to hide his glee, Ryo raised an eyebrow and spoke with deliberate laziness: "Pretty devoted disciple you've got there."
Lu Yinghua froze, then instantly switched to a face of pure grief, looking like a man who'd just lost his entire family.
Now that was an appropriate expression for the situation.
CRACK—
At that moment, ripples shimmered through the air where Luo Hao had stood.
She stepped out of them, dressed in her snow-white hanfu, glanced at Lu Yinghua, and said coolly. "At least you still have some filial piety."
"Master, it's a relief you're unharmed. I didn't know how to live without you." Lu Yinghua twisted his face into something resembling a smile.
Luo Hao, who hadn't seen his earlier "happy grin," gave him a faint nod in response.
To Lu Yinghua, that tiny gesture was outstanding.
His master almost never looked at him directly—she preferred to suppress him with palm winds from afar, and even her lessons were delivered as though he wasn't worth approaching. A nod from her? That was a once-in-a-lifetime event.
Across from them, Ryo's lips curled slightly in approval as he spoke: "To think you managed to use a spell-formed clone as a substitute in that split second, training even your instincts to that level…"
"I suppose calling you the Ruler of the Martial Realm isn't an exaggeration."
"Don't flatter me."
Luo Hao arched a brow, though her face showed little anger. Instead, she raised her hand and caught some of the dust still floating in the air.
With her sharp eyesight, she immediately saw that these motes weren't dust anymore—they had been broken down into something else entirely.
"You even shattered the dust in the air. What kind of technique is that?"
"A punch that smashes atoms," Ryo replied lightly.
"There exists such a punch?" Luo Hao's eyes widened slightly, genuinely surprised.
But then she shook her head. "No, something's off."
"What do you mean?" Ryo asked, a little puzzled.
Even Lu Yinghua, who had been quietly listening, looked confused.
Luo Hao turned her hand over and let the dust fall from her palm, her expression calm as she said: "What you just did didn't shatter atoms by the force of the punch itself. That was the power within you doing the work."
"Another Campione might not notice, but I would."
"I, who have honed both martial arts and mystical arts to their peaks, who have mastered hundreds of styles to perfection—I can say with certainty that your 'punch' is really nothing more than using your special energy and shaping it into a strike."
Her words were arrogant, but her tone was perfectly level—like she was simply stating a fact about how the world worked.
Liliana's lips twitched.
Why does that sound so much like "No one understands punching better than I do"?
Lu Yinghua, meanwhile, kept his face impassive, though he was silently grumbling: 'So it's a punch but not a punch… Master really does have nothing but muscle in that head of hers.'
Ryo, however, knew she was absolutely right.
When Salvatore Doni had first witnessed his Saint Techniques, he had also mistaken them for swordsmanship so strong it could split atoms.
But that wasn't the truth.
Saint Techniques weren't simply punches or swordsmanship—they were abilities. They were manifestations of Cosmos.
Lightning Plasma was an ability born from Cosmos, refined and combined into attacks shaped like punches.
And that was why, in Saint Seiya battles, the same technique rarely worked twice—the moment it was understood, it could be countered.
The only moves you could rely on from start to finish were the simplest ones—like Pegasus Meteor Fist or Lightning Plasma, a pure flurry of speed and power.
See through it all you want—if you can't withstand it, you still die.
...
As Ryo fell silent, Luo Hao's gaze focused sharply on his hand.
"In terms of pure technique, you aren't that good," she said.
"Your punches aren't really punches—they're simply how you choose to release that power."
Ryo couldn't help but clap. "As expected of the Martial Realm's Ruler. You deduced that much just from the marks my fists left behind."
"But…" He drew out the word, a playful smile appearing on his lips.
"What if my punches moved at the speed of light? Could you still counter them?"
Lu Yinghua and Liliana both nodded unconsciously.
Exactly—seeing through an attack was one thing, but could you stop it?
"No."
Luo Hao stood tall and answered without hesitation.
"But since it's an ability and not a punch, it means my martial arts haven't truly lost."
In other words—this wasn't a fair fight.
Ryo's expression turned odd.
So she was basically saying, 'I didn't really lose because you won with powers, not martial arts.'
Technically correct, sure, but it sounded ridiculous the more he thought about it.
The thought made him smirk faintly.
Seeing that smirk, Luo Hao opened her mouth to speak but then simply sighed.
"This duel is my loss. From today, the Holy Cult will withdraw from the East."
"?!!"
The old men behind her could no longer stay silent. Tears welled in their eyes as they cried out: "Master, you can't!"
"Master, think of our ancestral foundation!"
Luo Hao snorted coldly. "Ancestral foundation? I am the greatest ancestor. I created this sect. Who dares object?"
"This matter is decided. Follow my orders."
The old men fell silent at once, though many of their lips still moved faintly, casting meaningful looks at Lu Yinghua—clearly urging him to speak up.
But Lu Yinghua wasn't that stupid.
Even if they lost their territory, as long as Luo Hao lived, the sect lived. This was basic logic—he wasn't about to oppose her.
Once the dissent was crushed, Luo Hao turned back to Ryo. "To think those hypocrites of the so-called righteous path united with Japan and raised someone like you," she said.
"Though you lack true mastery of fist principles, you created techniques based on your own power. In terms of energy research, I, Luo Hao, acknowledge you as the strongest."
Ryo blinked.
Madara? Is that you?
He couldn't hold back his retort. "Talk about running away with the narrative."
"Hm?"
Luo Hao's brows knit slightly. Normally, that tone would've earned him a palm strike.
But against an equal King—one who had even surpassed her in power—she actually restrained herself.
"Fair enough. As the victor, you have the privilege to speak as you wish." She nodded, then asked: "Ryo Yagami, do you have any other conditions? State them all at once."
Conditions?
Ryo raised an eyebrow, thought back to how she'd just ignored him earlier and kept monologuing, then deliberately dragged out his words — even throwing in the kind of polite tags that made him sound like Japan's lapdog and the righteous sects' poster boy.
"Ahem… I want you…"
"Eh—ehhhhh!"
Liliana slapped her hands over her face, peeking through her fingers as though watching a scandal unfold.
Behind them, Lu Yinghua nearly collapsed to his knees on the spot.
'What a hero!'
'The first man in two hundred years to dare propose to my terrifying master! From this day on, there is no wall I won't bow to—except for you, Ryo Yagami. No, that's Grandmaster Ryo now!'
'Please, Grandmaster Ryo, take this demon away and I'll worship you.'
"???" Luo Hao just tilted her head, looking confused.
"Want me to do what? Why not say the whole phrase?"
"…"
At that moment, Ryo finally accepted the truth—his and Luo Hao's thought processes existed on completely different planes. It seemed he couldn't tease this woman.
He then sighed. "I want you to explain what's going on here."
Lu Yinghua froze. 'I was already worshiping you in my head and you ask for THAT? Are you even a man!? Dammit!'
Luo Hao frowned slightly, her tone oddly casual as she answered. "You are the secret heir of the righteous path, a newly born King of Japan. You challenged me for dominance over China, defeated me, and took my mantle. Is that so hard to understand? You want to rule the whole east."
"Oh? Here's the problem."
Ryo snapped his fingers and spread his hands. "I'm not some secret heir. I didn't come here to take your mantle. I was just dropping by to pay respects to a senior. So… what's with all this?"
Luo Hao suddenly fell silent.
And at the same moment, Lu Yinghua's face turned chalk white.
He dropped to his knees with a loud thud, forehead slamming into the ground as he shouted, "I was wrong! The intel was wrong! Please don't torture me!"
.
.
.