Genius Martial Arts Trainer

Chapter 92:

“Arm wrestling?”

“It’s a contest where two people grasp each other’s hands over a table and apply force until one person’s hand touches the table first, thereby losing. It’s a battle of wrist and arm strength, as well as technique.”

Mu-jin explained arm wrestling briefly and added with a bright smile.

“If the disciples of Wudang who are most confident in their wrist strength could step forward, I will take you on.”

At Mu-jin’s confident words, there was a commotion among the Wudang disciples. They were discussing who would step forward.

Yunheo Zhenren, who in a way was the origin of this whole situation, was silently observing everything.

Originally, Yunheo Zhenren had intended to intervene when his junior, Elder Yunpyeong, raised doubts about Mu-jin’s training methods.

However, Mu-jin handled the situation with a composure beyond his years, so Yunheo Zhenren decided to watch the situation unfold.

‘It’s obvious that training conducted after verifying its effectiveness is more productive than forcing it.’

‘Come to think of it, it’s quite remarkable. Despite this child, who is merely a third-class disciple, stepping forward alone, none of the Shaolin disciples seem worried.’

For some reason, the atmosphere among the Shaolin disciples was very relaxed.

And this was perfectly natural.

“Mu-jin never loses.”

“If it’s just a test of strength, then they can’t use internal energy, right?”

“If it’s a fight without internal energy, isn’t he the best in the world?”

Mu-jin had been spreading his muscle training methods in Shaolin since his days as an initiate, and four years had already passed since then.

Not only initiates and third-class disciples but even second-class and first-class disciples had been training their muscles using Mu-jin’s methods.

And they all knew very well how ridiculously heavy the weights Mu-jin used for training were.

But the Wudang disciples, who didn’t know this, ended up voluntarily sending out a sacrificial lamb.

“I am Myeong-hwan, a second-class disciple of Wudang.”

As the man in his early thirties proudly stepped forward, Mu-jin tilted his head in curiosity.

“It’s supposed to be a contest of strength, but why did they send out a weakling?”

For a moment, he wondered if that guy was being bullied in Wudang.

But after quickly observing the Wudang disciples closely, Mu-jin soon realized something.

‘Ah. There isn’t anyone like Mu-gung here.’

Leaving aside those who had built their bodies through sheer hard work like himself, there are usually those who boast natural strength like Mu-gung.

But for some reason, the Wudang disciples all had reasonably balanced or slightly slender physiques.

‘Hmm. Could it be because of their martial arts?’

Wudang’s martial arts mostly placed significance on the subtle mysteries of internal energy, so they seemed to give higher scores to children with graceful movements rather than those with superior strength.

Although Mu-jin had expected to win, he found himself smiling slightly at the thought that it might be easier than he initially thought, and then he took his place in front of the table.

“If you place your elbows like this and start with your hands clasped, we begin. If you lift your elbows or your hand touches the table, you lose.”

“And we only compete using the strength of our arms and wrists?”

“That’s correct.”

After hearing Mu-jin’s explanation, Myung-hwan stood across from him and placed his elbow on the table.

Then, right after they clasped hands.

“Begin!”

As soon as Yun-song Zhenren’s shout fell, the veins on Myung-hwan’s arm bulged.

“!?”

But why was it? Despite using so much force that his muscles trembled, Mu-jin’s forearm remained as immobile as a rock.

“Is that all?”

Instead, Mu-jin asked Myung-hwan in a tone of disbelief.

Seeing Myung-hwan’s face turning red and his arm trembling, it was clear that he was exerting his full strength.

‘This is worse than I thought.’

From Mu-jin’s perspective, it felt like the effort wasn’t even reaching his muscles.

‘This isn’t even exercise.’

Feeling like he was bullying a child, Mu-jin casually swung his arm, causing Myung-hwan’s arm to topple over.

Thud!

“……”

“……”

Because Myung-hwan, who had stepped up as their representative, lost so miserably, a moment of silence fell over the training grounds.

Mu-jin shrugged his shoulders and asked the visibly flustered Wudang disciples.

“If you’re not convinced, would anyone else like to try?”

At Mu-jin’s question, the Wudang disciples exchanged glances briefly.

A new volunteer stepped forward.

The two soon clasped hands over the table.

‘What? His hand feels like it’s made of iron.’

While the new volunteer was internally shocked by the feeling of Mu-jin’s hand.

“Ah, come to think of it, this arm wrestling was meant to show the effects of wrist training, right?”

Mu-jin said leisurely, and instead of pushing his arm over, he slowly started to tilt his wrist forward.

As Mu-jin tilted his wrist forward, the opponent’s wrist naturally bent backward.

“Ugh.”

As the opponent groaned in pain from his bent wrist, Mu-jin, feeling like he was needlessly bullying him, casually swung his arm, causing the opponent’s hand to hit the table.

Thud!

“Is there anyone else who’d like to try?”

Having easily defeated two people in a row, no one from Wudang stepped forward in response to Mu-jin’s question.

Thus, Yun-song Zhenren, who had been observing the situation, finally spoke up.

“It seems that this sufficiently proves the effectiveness of the training.”

It was clear to Yun-song Zhenren that there was no one in Wudang who could match Mu-jin in arm wrestling.

Considering the proof of training was sufficient, he stepped forward, thinking there was no need to further hurt the pride of the main disciples.

“Losing in an arm wrestling match, which isn’t even martial arts, isn’t something to dwell on. Moreover, if you train under Mu-jin Dao-un, you too can sufficiently strengthen your wrists. Instead of dwelling on this, strive to improve yourselves!”

“Yes, Master!”

“Yes, Grandmaster!”

Whether it was due to the abilities Mu-jin demonstrated or Yun-song Zhenren’s encouragement, the Wudang disciples began to learn the training methods Mu-jin had taught with more enthusiasm.

* * *

Right after the unexpected arm wrestling match and wrist training session, Wudang and Shaolin began their official martial arts exchange.

Of course, this martial arts exchange didn’t involve revealing the absolute techniques of each sect to one another.

“Since it’s the first day, we’ll start by teaching you our most iconic martial art, Taiji Quan.”

Each sect taught one martial art per day, starting from beginner level and gradually advancing.

Even as time passed, they would only exchange up to first-rate martial arts. They wouldn’t exchange advanced martial arts, ultimate techniques, or divine techniques.

However, the martial arts of each sect reflected their unique characteristics.

Even beginner or second-rate martial arts were sufficient to experience the essence valued by each sect.

The martial arts taught by Wudang generally embodied the principle of yielding to overcome, counterattacking with softness.

The martial arts Shaolin taught Wudang were deeply embedded with the principle of strength, overcoming opponents with a single powerful strike.

Naturally, the principles of stillness in movement and the strong, versus yielding to overcome with softness, were fundamentally different. In fact, they were almost the exact opposites.

Understanding and executing these two principles simultaneously was nearly impossible. Except, perhaps, for a genius like Mu-gyeong.

“Hmm. I wonder if I can deflect Master Uncle’s attacks with this?”

Despite it being a beginner martial art, Mu-gyeong, who had quickly learned Taiji Quan, muttered to himself.

It seemed he always envisioned sparring with Hye-gwan whenever he learned martial arts.

In any case, while it seemed that Wudang’s martial arts wouldn’t be helpful to most Shaolin disciples, the reality was different.

“Hmm. To counter someone using a soft sword, it might be better to adjust the direction slightly to deflect their attacks.”

“Rather than that, wouldn’t it be better to increase the power to the point where deflection is impossible?”

The fact that they were opposites meant there was a sort of counterbalance relationship. In other words, if they became familiar with the principle of yielding to overcome, it could be very helpful when facing someone using a similar martial art in the future.

The same applied to Wudang.

Disciples of both sects actively tried to learn each other’s martial arts and incorporate them into their own.

Specifically, after understanding the opponent’s principles, they endeavored to adapt their own martial arts to counter or break them.

Observing the enthusiastic efforts of the third and second-class disciples from both sects, Yun-song Zhenren made a peculiar expression.

‘Huh. That child’s talent is truly astonishing.’

The child Yun-song Zhenren was watching was Mu-gyeong.

With just a few demonstrations, he had naturally executed Taiji Quan and was now seamlessly blending the principle of yielding to overcome from Taiji Quan with Shaolin’s Striking Bone Technique.

Despite alternating between martial arts based on entirely different principles, he did so without any awkwardness. This was truly a sign of a genius.

However, the more extraordinary Mu-gyeong’s talent seemed, the more Yun-song Zhenren’s mind was clouded with confusion.

‘With such a talented child, why did that old monk choose this boy Mu-jin as the grand disciple?’

Of course, Mu-jin also had unique qualities.

His method for treating Hyun-gwang, who had become a cripple, his systematic training regimen for developing muscles and bones, and his confident demeanor in leading situations even in front of hundreds of Wudang disciples.

Clearly, he was a child who would greatly benefit Shaolin.

‘However, he does not seem to have the innate talent to inherit that old monk’s true legacy.’

From the perspective of martial arts talent alone, Mu-gyeong seemed superior.

After all, Mu-gyeong had learned Taiji Quan more quickly and was adept at mixing it with Shaolin martial arts, whereas Mu-jin had only mimicked Taiji Quan moderately before stopping.

Currently, Mu-jin had the advantage in internal energy and physical development, but Yun-song Zhenren judged that Mu-gyeong’s potential was higher.

‘Hmm. I need to find out what that old monk saw in him.’

With that thought, Yun-song Zhenren approached the disciples of both sects, who were passionately exchanging martial arts.

“While teaching each other’s martial arts is good, it would be better to directly experience them through sparring. What do you think, Okwon Mu-jeok Dao-un?”

“Are you suggesting we hold a match?”

In response to Yun-song Zhenren’s sudden proposal, Hye-geol asked back.

“Yes. Since this is a friendly exchange, it would be good for the younger disciples to have sparring matches.”

Yun-song Zhenren, wearing a smile like that of an immortal, looked at Mu-jin.

“What do you think?”

“It would be a valuable experience to directly face Wudang’s martial arts.”

Having little interest in the principle of yielding to overcome and having already experienced Je-gal Jin-hee’s superior Black and White Fan Technique, Mu-jin found sparring to be a more interesting prospect.

When Mu-jin showed an active stance, Yun-song Zhenren nodded and looked somewhere.

There was a person who could verify why Hyun-gwang had chosen Mu-jin over Mu-gyeong and determine the extent of the boy’s potential.

“Cheong-su, step forward.”

Cheong-su Dojang.

A genius regarded alongside Namgung Jin-cheon of the Namgung family as the greatest prodigy of the world. Specifically, he was the one inheriting Yun-song Zhenren’s legacy among the Three Swords of the World.

Most importantly, he possessed a talent of a similar magnitude to Mu-gyeong.

‘Their talent might be similar, but in terms of experience, there’s no comparison.’

Cheong-su had been learning martial arts for seven years. Rumor had it that both Mu-gyeong and Mu-jin had been training for only about four years.

Moreover, Cheong-su had even absorbed Wudang’s Taecheongdan, comparable to Shaolin’s Great Restoration Pills.

Despite similar talents, it was nearly impossible for Mu-gyeong to catch up to Cheong-su.

‘Whatever the old monk was thinking when he chose that boy, it’s unlikely that Mu-jin can defeat Cheong-su.’

Yun-song Zhenren recalled a conversation he had with Hyun-gwang a month ago.

The old monk had assured him that the Cheong-su he had raised would not be a match for Mu-jin.

‘Let’s see whose judgment was correct.’

This was a duel between the greatest talents of Wudang and Shaolin, continuing the legacy of their respective sects.

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