Chapter 170: Artist (6)

Flipping the world upside down.

Like overturning a dinner table.

“…!”

Lee Taebaek slid down while hugging the pillar with both arms. He had no time to worry about looking undignified.

Gravity’s origin had shifted. Such details were trivial.

‘Crazy.’

Lee Taebaek kept his gaze fixed between the ceiling and the floor. Rays of light bent in every direction. The Art Master’s speed was devilishly fast. He thought to himself: That’s basically cloning.

‘Different principle from my ice clones.’

She created waves of afterimages through pure physical might. It was on another level from Lee Taebaek’s mana cheats. The Art Master was a true expert in body control.

Pabababak!

The Art Master’s clones closed in on Kublai, who floated in midair. Like spiders from a single web converging on the prey at the center!

Just watching made his breath catch. How must it feel to be on the receiving end?

But Kublai, reborn as a cultured human, was no ordinary foe. Just before colliding with the Art Master, he thrust both arms wide and traced a circular arc. Was he about to unleash some Taiji form?

Kublai seemed to manifest Lee Taebaek’s sudden musing. He seized the wrist of the first oncoming clone.

He twisted its trajectory. Using inertia against it, he swung it like a club. The shockwave ensnared the initial wave of clones in its path.

They vanished. The clone Kublai wielded like a cudgel crumbled to dust as well.

The second row of clones punched in unison. Veins bulged fiercely on their fists.

Then the world tilted again. Ninety degrees this time. Lee Taebaek jammed his fingers into the pillar’s crevice. Like hanging from a pull-up bar, he clung to it to watch the fight.

“And yet I told you…”

Kublai muttered leisurely.

“Simply being fast, simply being strong… won’t let you survive this brutal world.”

Truly embodying a master’s virtue. Right—dogshit philosophy disguised as tough love was standard for any self-respecting mentor. Where did they all take the class?

Kublai fit the mold. But blocking the Art Master’s first assault lent his words weight. He smiled wryly.

“Jamukha, your unnatural power is a curse that will drag you down.”

“Shut—up!”

The clones recoiled in fury. Fists slammed in immediately. In an instant, Kublai was encased in a cocoon woven from the clones’ bodies.

A pupa formed from the clustered humanoid clones. Crimson flames leaked from the dark crevices. Amid it all, the clones battered Kublai wildly. At this rate, not even chunks of meat would remain.

And yet.

That gaze pierced straight through the pandemonium and met Lee Taebaek’s eyes. A chill ran down his spine.

It felt like staring at a dragon hatching from its egg. How was he still alive after taking the Art Master’s barrage head-on? A bolt of realization struck his spine.

‘No way…’

It was a restriction. He’d deliberately nerfed his strength to amplify his Faith.

A restriction’s power varied wildly based on the sacrifice. The greater the offering, the greater the reward.

“If he can instantly regenerate a body torn to pieces with that strength control…”

In that domain alone, calling him a god wouldn’t be an exaggeration. Now it made sense why the Art Master held her master in such high regard—and with that odd pride.

‘Not just strength—his Faith control is monstrous too.’

What was shocking was that Kublai lacked privileges like Lee Taebaek’s buffs and nerfs. This ability was pure effort. Or perhaps innate talent.

Did it matter? The key point was that Kublai, enhanced even with a cultured human body, was no pushover for the Art Master.

In that fleeting moment, Lee Taebaek mentally pitted himself against Kublai. Could he gain the upper hand over that bald bastard?

‘Not certain.’

His mouth went dry. Kublai’s voice finally broke through the cocoon.

“Life on the steppes is endless struggle. But Jamukha… you were born too strong. You hogged all the steppe’s vital essence for yourself.”

Lee Taebaek sensed the emotion in those words. A mottled dark red hue. If he had to name it: jealousy and envy.

“…Even drank down mine.”

Light burst forth, parting the clones.

“Temujin’s daughter, Jamukha.”

The clones crumbled. Their forms shredded to rags, revealing the figure suspended in midair. In the same haughty pose as before. With dignified eyes.

“Don’t utter my father’s name so lightly—with that filthy body that betrayed the steppes!”

“…”

It wasn’t a clone’s voice. The Art Master’s true body kicked off the air. Space shuddered repeatedly. Every motion of hers boomed like thunder.

A Three Calamity existed to lower the world’s resolution through sheer presence alone. The character ‘calamity’ fit her perfectly. Team Leader Seo’s planning deserved praise.

But.

“A child born receiving all the steppes’ blessings.”

Why.

Why did Kublai’s voice strike his eardrums so clearly? Because emotion colored it. But the saturation was intense. Distinctly different from before.

Kwagang!

The Art Master, closing in, spun like a swallow. She leveraged the rotation to drive her knee up.

Kublai crossed his arms. But her kick rendered the guard meaningless. Amid the roar, a tearing crack sounded clear. Kublai’s arms fell limp naturally. Shredded like rags.

Regeneration?

None. Of course—restrictions couldn’t switch that fast. Classic cooldown.

No fixed duration, but the stronger the restriction, the less flexible. Kublai was the epitome right now.

Kwaang!

The Art Master shot forward like an arrow on a bowstring. Naturally targeting Kublai, he assumed.

No.

In that instant, the world—spinning like a bug jar—rotated another ninety degrees. A full revolution now, returning to normal.

But the world’s components had changed. Several pillars, like rotten teeth in an old man’s mouth, were uprooted. They were in the Art Master’s hands, flung lightly.

Whiiiish!

Kublai raised a leg high. The soaring foot’s arc split the pillar’s top.

Immediately, it sheared clean. He sliced the barrage of pillars using only his legs. Lee Taebaek thought: No flash like the Art Master’s, but her movements were a cut above in crisp efficiency.

‘Pure bodily motion, utterly efficient severance.’

Magnificent. That was the word.

Kublai wielded the human body to its limits. Just watching made his head throb.

Wanting to etch those movements into his brain. To imitate even a fraction.

Insights assaulted him relentlessly. The discrepancy between the churning arena and his mind made him nauseous. Vomit burned in his gut.

But there was an innate class difference.

The Art Master had drunk deeply of heaven’s favor. The fruits of bone-shaving training on a cultured human frame. Even the immutable power dynamics couldn’t be overturned.

“Get—lost!”

The Art Master surged up abruptly. Her high kick slammed into Kublai’s gut.

Before the kicked Kublai pierced the ceiling.

A shadow loomed.

Thud…!

The Art Master appeared above his crown this time, stomping down with her heel. His figure caved inward.

Then below, then above, then below again.

Infinite repetition. Kublai dangled like a sandbag tied to a rubber band’s center. His form seemed motionless, but really, the relentless up-down barrage pinned him in place.

He should scream, yet Kublai made no sound. No—couldn’t was more accurate.

The Art Master’s bare body relentlessly shredded him, and even stalwart Kublai was nearing his limit.

‘The natural… outcome.’

…Right.

But something felt off. At some point, Kublai stopped resisting. It seemed like he couldn’t at first glance, but…

‘He chose not to.’

Kublai’s flesh began disintegrating. Skin peeled away. Eerily, beneath wasn’t pink muscle fiber but pale green fluid.

Half his face torn off, limbs long useless. Kublai had no fight left. Sensing it, the Art Master swung her arm wide. The impact hurled him into the floor, crumpled. Gritty dust clawed Lee Taebaek’s cheek.

“*Haa, haa*”

The Art Master panted roughly. Exhausted physically and mentally.

She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them.

Only Kublai’s torso vaguely remained. He lay steeped in pale green blood, the mark of a cultured human. The Art Master approached.

“Jamukha.”

Step.

“…If you still see me as your master, please… stay back.”

Step.

“Daughter of the steppes… have mercy.”

The Art Master halted abruptly. Her head drooped, hiding her expression.

Then Lee Taebaek approached. Standing beside her, he looked down at Jamukha. A pitiful sight.

“Kublai, you.”

Lee Taebaek forced the words out.

“You’re… not Jamukha’s master.”

“What nonsense is that?”

Finally lifting his head.

Lee Taebaek endured the piercing glare and pressed on.

“You’ve consistently shown jealousy toward Jamukha. Even a third party like me could feel it.”

“Many masters envied brilliant disciples. Rare even on the steppes? Hardly.”

Kublai shot back. Lee Taebaek dismissed it coldly.

“What sets you apart is you knew Yejeon—no, Jamukha—was a monster, yet you still.”

Lee Taebaek thumbed beside him.

“Came to teach this hooded monster. After Jamukha’s parents died.”

“…”

“If you were the type to envy so easily, you wouldn’t have come. Your actions contradict themselves.”

“…!”

Jamukha’s gaze snapped to Kublai. He’d squeezed his eyes shut.

“You wanted to see her.”

“…”

“Jamukha’s godfather? Temujin’s close friend? All true. But you conveniently omitted one thing.”

“Please, stop.”

Kublai sobbed. If his body were intact, he’d grab Lee Taebaek by the collar. Too late for that.

“Stop…!”

Ignoring Kublai’s cry, Lee Taebaek shifted his gaze. It met Jamukha’s bewildered eyes.

“Jamukha. You’re Kublai’s daughter.”

Lee Taebaek spat the truth at last.

“Not some steppe daughter metaphor—his real flesh and blood.”

This was tuition, in a way. He’d gained from their fight, so he granted them a chance to clear the misunderstanding.