Chapter 90: The Abbot’s Condition (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 90: The Abbot’s Condition (2)
“Hear me, Shaolin!”
A voice infused with internal power thundered across the plaza in front of the Gold Cave.
The ordinary martial monks reflexively clutched their ears, grimacing in pain. Even the Arhat monks furrowed their brows at the sheer force behind the shout.
“To think… the Blood Demon’s internal power is this immense.”
“He is truly one of the Five Great Villains.”
As Shaolin’s full strength gathered, the fighting spirit that had been rising among the monks was replaced by a thick layer of wariness.
I had projected my voice to dampen their morale, and it seemed to have worked perfectly. I decided to moderate the output of my internal energy from here on.
I spoke again.
“I am the Leader of the Blood Cult and the Blood Demon of this era.”
My voice echoed throughout the plaza, yet not a single monk stirred. It seemed they had already been briefed on my identity, so there was little reaction to the revelation itself.
Why would I be? It’s not like I enjoy being the center of attention.
Regardless, now that Abbot Jingak, the man in charge of Shaolin, had appeared, it was time to get to the point.
“Lord Sama Chak, the Moon Evil Sword, is my father-in-law. To keep such a man imprisoned in the Golden Prison is the same as holding me in contempt.”
Murmur, murmur!
The mention of him being my father-in-law sent a ripple of commotion through the crowd. It was the same for everyone—the Eight Great Guardians, the Ten Realms Ten Victories, and the Arhat monks alike. It seemed the report of my intrusion had been so urgent that this particular detail had been omitted.
Abbot Jingak also seemed to be learning this for the first time. He leaned over to exchange words with Master Gyeongjong, the Head of the Library, and another elderly monk.
Judging by the movement of his lips:
[Are you saying Patron Sama and the current Blood Demon share such a bond?]
[Hohoho, this is truly a rare occurrence, Abbot.]
[Amitabha. I wondered why the Blood Demon would infiltrate our temple alone, but it seems he possesses a surprisingly human side.]
Their reactions were calmer than I expected. Perhaps because they were high-ranking monks of deep cultivation, they seemed to be rationalizing that my intrusion—despite being the head of the Evil Faction—had a justifiable personal reason.
If it does, we won't have to waste our energy, but will it really be that simple? Shaolin is a place that takes immense pride in being the heart of the Orthodox sects, even if they claim to be detached from worldly affairs.
I needed to bring out the main point.
“For that alone, my Cult would be justified in punishing Shaolin. However, debts and grudges must be settled clearly. I have heard that Shaolin provided aid when my father-in-law’s condition was critical. Therefore, I am willing to consider our grievances settled.”
In short, I was proposing that we trade his imprisonment for the fact that they saved his life.
I could have phrased it more like a negotiation, but I had a position to maintain as the leader of the Blood Cult. I couldn't give the impression that I was bowing to Shaolin.
At my words, the Shaolin monks could not hide their fury.
“That man truly has no shame!”
“He invades our temple at will and then suggests we act as if nothing happened?”
“Does he take Shaolin for a joke!”
As expected, the reaction was fierce. I never expected to settle this without any confrontation. In fact, I needed to establish a clear dominance over Shaolin here and now to ensure they would never lay a finger on my father-in-law or Sama Yeong again.
Just then, the elderly monk to the left of Abbot Jingak spoke up.
“Amitabha. I am Gyeongo, the Master of the Muscle Tendon Changing Classic Hall.”
So, he was the Master of the Muscle Tendon Changing Classic Hall. He was one of the three candidates to be the next Abbot. As someone responsible for managing martial arts manuals alongside the Library, his prowess was bound to be extraordinary. The aura radiating from him suggested he had reached the Supreme Peak Realm.
Master Gyeongo continued.
“If Patron Sama is indeed your father-in-law, the proper course of action would have been to make a formal request to our temple. To intrude so recklessly is an act of blatant disrespect toward this sacred Buddhist site.”
Sama Yeong, who had been watching silently, flared up in anger.
“And was it a 'proper course of action' to imprison my father against his will?”
Master Gyeongo sighed and replied to her outburst.
“Amitabha. Did I not advise you before, Bodhisattva? Your father has harmed many innocent people. The karma of those deeds will reach you and even your descendants, so how can you be so…”
“Master Gyeongo.”
Sama Chak cut him off. His expression was grim. It seemed he hadn't known that Gyeongo had said such things to Sama Yeong.
“Are you trying to frighten my daughter with Buddhist teachings of karma?”
“Sigh. Patron. Why must you take it that way? If you do not repent and wash away the karma you have accumulated…”
“Enough!”
Sama Chak barked at him. It was the first time I had seen him raise his voice in such anger. I hadn't realized his love for his daughter ran so deep.
Stepping forward, my father-in-law declared, “I, Sama Chak, may have stained my hands with much blood, but I have strived to live a life without shame so that I might stand tall before my only child. Who are you to disparage my life and attempt to bring shame upon my daughter!”
Rumble!
As Sama Chak released his True Qi, a powerful pressure erupted. The monks, unable to hide their alarm at the domineering momentum thick with killing intent, began chanting sutras.
“Amitabha!”
To think he had recovered this much internal power in such a short time. He truly was remarkable. However, because his Seven Great Vital Points had been sealed for so long, he would likely struggle to exert even half of his original strength.
He has every right to. I heard it from Sama Yeong as well. Though her father had harmed many, he never killed without reason. Most of those he killed were known villains or members of the Wicked Factions. With such a code, he would never have touched common civilians. Because he was that kind of father, Sama Yeong had never once felt ashamed of him.
It was then.
“Hohoho. Patron Sama.”
A vibrant voice accompanied by a hearty laugh echoed through the plaza. The owner of the voice was Master Gyeongjong, the Head of the Library. Before anyone realized it, he had walked through the crowd to stand before Sama Chak.
“Master Gyeongjong.”
He was the one who had saved my father-in-law using the Nine Yang True Scripture—though he had left a lingering trace of the deep-seated cold energy instead of removing it entirely.
As he appeared, Sama Chak’s killing intent softened slightly.
“Do you remember what you said to this old monk, Patron?”
“How could I forget?”
“In exchange for purging the cold energy that had invaded your body, you agreed to receive the teachings of the Buddha. Do you intend to break that promise?”
I frowned at Master Gyeongjong’s words. My father-in-law said that?
As I wondered, Sama Chak spoke.
“My memory of the conversation differs.”
“Differs?”
“Did you not say, Master, that if I were to receive treatment at Shaolin, you could not let me go because of the many killings I have committed? And did I not say I would accept those terms?”
It seemed their interpretations of the agreement were subtly different. Master Gyeongjong chanted a brief prayer before speaking.
“The greatest sin in Buddhism is, of course, the taking of life. Patron Sama, you have committed far too many such evil acts. How could I simply let you leave?”
“And if I insist on going, what will you do?”
“I shall fulfill my duty as a disciple of the Buddha.”
Whoosh!
As soon as he finished speaking, a searing heat radiated from Master Gyeongjong’s body. They said the Nine Yang True Scripture was a martial art of supreme Yang Steel, and it certainly lived up to its reputation. Looking at the fighting spirit in his eyes, it seemed his competitive nature as a martial artist had been triggered before his duties as a monk.
Shaolin was a place secluded from the world. How often would he get the chance to test himself against a peerless master ranked among the top five in the Murim?
However, my father-in-law was not yet fully recovered. Even if he were higher in realm, his opponent was a top-tier master who had mastered Shaolin’s greatest internal arts: the Muscle Tendon Changing Classic, the Face Washing Scripture, and the Nine Yang True Scripture.
“I am grateful to the Master who saved my life, but I must leave Shaolin.”
“Then what more is there to say?”
Swish!
Master Gyeongjong lunged toward Sama Chak first. A haze of heat shimmered from his glowing orange palms; he was clearly about to unleash the techniques of the Nine Yang True Scripture.
“Hmph!”
Sama Chak snorted and lunged forward as well. Sharp killing intent swirled around his fingers, which were pressed together in a sword-secret stance. Since his internal power wasn't fully restored, it seemed he intended to give his all from the very first strike.
It was at that exact moment.
Blur!
My figure blurred and reappeared instantly between the two masters just before they collided.
“What?!”
“You!”
Neither had expected me to intervene, and they were unable to stop their techniques in such a split second.
However…
Bam-bam-bam-bam!
Standing my ground, I blocked both masters' techniques simultaneously—using the Snow Drinking Finger with my left hand and the Snow Sound Flower Sun Dance with my right.
When I neutralized the Yang Steel palm technique of the Nine Yang True Scripture with a finger technique imbued with frigid cold, Master Gyeongjong could not hide his shock.
“You can manipulate cold energy?!”
Tap, tap, tap!
After clashing for about two exchanges, Master Gyeongjong used his footwork to create distance. On the other hand, Sama Chak, who had only exchanged a single blow he couldn't stop, immediately pulled back.
Normally, my father-in-law would have scolded me for interfering, but perhaps he was too stunned by the fact that I had simultaneously used techniques of both cold and Yang Steel energies. He stared at me with narrowed eyes.
Finally, he spoke.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“Father-in-law, your seven vital points were only just unsealed and your body is not yet whole. I intervened out of concern that you might overexert yourself and damage your primordial energy.”
“You…”
He was a man of great pride, so I had spoken carefully. I wondered if it would be okay. After staring at me for a moment, Sama Chak sighed and silently walked over to Sama Yeong. He had left everything entirely to me.
I gave a slight nod and turned toward Master Gyeongjong. He spoke with a voice tinged with admiration.
“Amitabha. I had heard rumors that the current Leader of the Blood Cult had reached a high realm, but it seems the rumors were not exaggerated—if anything, they were understated.”
“You flatter me. It is more surprising that no one knew such a hidden dragon was lurking within Shaolin.”
“How could one who has left the secular world crave fame?”
Sizzle!
As Master Gyeongjong spoke, a white haze rose from his palm. He was using the Yang Steel energy of the Nine Yang True Scripture to drive out the cold energy from my Snow Drinking Finger.
Taking a Qi control stance, Master Gyeongjong said to me, “I may have to stake my life on this. But as a martial artist, it would be a glorious occasion.”
After just one exchange, Master Gyeongjong had realized I was in a higher realm than him. Yet, seeing that his competitive spirit remained unquenched, he was a martial artist to the core. If I could suppress Shaolin’s greatest master, I could further dampen their momentum.
Just then, a shout rang out.
“Stop.”
The source of the voice was none other than Abbot Jingak. He was walking forward. Did he think Gyeongjong had no chance alone and intended to join forces?
However, the words that came out of his mouth were unexpected.
“Master of the Library, step back.”
“Abbot!”
“How can one who cultivates the Buddhist path fail to overcome his competitive spirit?”
At his rebuke, Master Gyeongjong bowed his head and pressed his palms together in shame.
“Amitabha.”
As Master Gyeongjong took several steps back, Abbot Jingak approached, leaning on his Buddhist staff.
“Amitabha. My apologies for the late introduction. This humble monk is Jingak, the one tasked with overseeing Shaolin.”
Abbot Jingak bowed politely with his palms together. There was not a hint of rudeness in his gesture. Since an elderly monk well over eighty was showing such courtesy, I felt I couldn't act arrogantly just to suppress their morale.
“I am Jin, the Leader of the Blood Cult.”
I also bowed my head and gave a fist-and-palm salute.
Abbot Jingak then said to me, “The current Leader of the Blood Cult seems different from the Blood Demons I have known in the past.”
“…What do you mean by that?”
“I am aware that you have not dealt a lethal blow to any of our temple’s disciples.”
“I simply did not wish to see blood spilled on Buddha’s land.”
At my words, Abbot Jingak smiled benevolently.
“Among the leaders of your Cult, many considered even such a simple thing to be trivial. But you, Leader, have not only upheld that, but have you not also gathered all the monks of this temple here?”
“You find meaning in something quite insignificant, Abbot.”
He seemed to be attributing meaning to something other than what I had intended. It was hard to read his true motives.
Then, Abbot Jingak spoke in a low voice.
“Is the reason you gathered everyone here not because you are confident you can overcome this ordeal through your martial prowess alone?”
“!?”
I was inwardly stunned. I hadn't expected him to see through my true intentions. This wasn't just about being clever; Abbot Jingak’s insight was far sharper than I had anticipated.
I stared at him for a moment before asking, “Now that you know my intent, what will you do, Abbot?”
“There is a saying that even the sturdiest bamboo can snap, while a bundle of thin branches is hard to break. Even if your martial arts have reached the pinnacle of the world, I do not believe that the monks of this temple, if united, would fail to overcome any crisis.”
There was no trace of arrogance or contempt for his opponent in Abbot Jingak’s words. Yet, there was also not a hint of backing down. He made me truly feel what it meant to be the heart of the Orthodox sects.
Regardless, he had made it clear that he would not yield. Then, the conclusion was set.
“Then we have no choice but to clash until the end. I am in a position where I must take my father-in-law with me.”
“Harming one another is not the only way.”
“Then you need only open the path.”
“This temple has its laws, and if we were to easily give up a patron under our guidance due to external pressure, who would ever seek the teachings of this temple again? However, if you agree, I would like to propose a more peaceful method.”
A peaceful method… What kind of method was he planning to propose? Looking into Abbot Jingak’s eyes, I saw no ulterior motives.
“What is this peaceful method?”
“If you take Patron Sama through the method I propose, neither the monks of this temple nor the people of the secular world will be able to object.”
I stared at him for a moment, then readily agreed.
“Very well. I also wish to resolve this matter with Shaolin amicably.”
“Amitabha. It seems my eyes did not deceive me.”
“You can skip the formal praise. Just tell me the condition.”
As soon as I finished speaking, Abbot Jingak struck his staff against the ground.
Thump!
“Arhat monks, form the 108 Arhat Formation!”
“Hah!”
At the Abbot’s command, the Arhat monks let out a powerful shout and moved in perfect unison to deploy the 108 Arhat Formation.
At that sight, Sama Yeong cried out in disbelief.
“How is this a peaceful method?!”
Sama Chak was also frowning, clearly sharing her sentiment.
I asked, “This doesn't seem much different from before.”
“It is different.”
“In what way?”
“You must subdue all 108 Arhat monks within fifteen minutes without causing even a minor injury to any of them.”
At those words, Sama Chak roared.
“That’s absurd!”
All eyes turned to him. Sama Chak spoke to Abbot Jingak as if he found the proposal preposterous.
“Was Shaolin’s 108 Arhat Formation not created specifically to deal with peerless masters who have broken through the wall? To demand that he subdue them all within fifteen minutes without a single scratch is to ask for the impossible!”
To Sama Chak’s protest, Abbot Jingak replied, “I am not giving him only one chance.”
“What do you mean?”
“This temple also needs a justification to let the patron go. How could we present a trivial test for a feat that proves such immense martial prowess without spilling blood? This temple will provide the Leader of the Blood Cult with as many opportunities as necessary. However, if he cannot pass this, he naturally cannot take the patron with him.”
Fuming with rage, Sama Chak shouted at me, “Forget it! There’s no need to accept such a ridiculous proposal. I will lend a hand as well…”
“No. I will accept.”
“What?”
Sama Chak looked at me in disbelief. He clearly judged it to be an utterly impossible task. Leaving my father-in-law behind, I spoke to Abbot Jingak.
“I assume you are well aware of how outrageous the condition you’ve set is, Abbot?”
“Is it not much better than risking your life against the entire strength of Shaolin?”
He wasn't just insightful; he was a sly old fox.
I let out a faint smile and said, “Since I am accepting such unfavorable terms, why don't you accept a request from my side as well?”
“And what would that condition be?”
“What will you do if I subdue the 108 Arhat Formation without injury within seven and a half minutes?”
“…Seven and a half minutes?”
At my words, Abbot Jingak let out an involuntary chuckle. If fifteen minutes was outrageous, seven and a half minutes must have seemed absolutely impossible to him.
After his brief laugh, Abbot Jingak said to me, “Very well. If you can achieve that, I will not only let Patron Sama go, but I will also give you a Great Return Pill, one of our temple’s greatest treasures.”
Murmur, murmur!
This time, it was the monks who were thrown into a commotion. The Great Return Pill was a legendary spirit medicine crafted by Shaolin. The herbs required were so rare and the preparation took over thirty years, meaning even Shaolin only possessed a few pills. It was known as the ultimate spirit medicine.
“Will this suffice?”
Even as he wagered Shaolin’s treasure, Abbot Jingak’s face remained composed. He seemed certain that it was a condition I could never fulfill.
“I expect you to keep your word.”
“Amitabha.”
Abbot Jingak pressed his palms together, bowed, and stepped out of the formation. The Arhat monks then raised their staves and aimed them at me.
“HAH!!!”
Their momentum was extraordinary. Watching this, Sama Chak clicked his tongue.
Standing outside the formation, Abbot Jingak commanded the ordinary monks, “Go and bring an incense stick that burns for fifteen minutes.”
As the monks bowed and prepared to run, I spoke.
“There’s no need for that.”
With those words, I put my hands behind my back and lightly performed a heavy step.
Thump!
Thud! Thud! Thud!
In that instant, the eyes of all 108 Arhat monks aiming their staves at me rolled back, and they collapsed to the ground simultaneously.
“!!!”
It was something no one had expected.
Abbot Jingak’s eyes widened as if they were about to pop out of his head.