Chapter 90: The Abbot's Condition (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 90: The Abbot's Condition (3)
—Thud!
A single stomp.
With that, the eyes of the one hundred and eight Arhat monks rolled back as they collapsed.
“...!”
The courtyard was instantly plunged into silence.
No one could have predicted such an outcome.
Among the many symbols of Shaolin, the 108 Arhat Formation performed by these martial monks was paramount. Countless masters had challenged it to prove their prowess, but none had ever achieved a result like this.
Who could have imagined that the Arhat monks would fall in the blink of an eye, not by a hand laid upon them, but by a single stomp?
“To think they were taken down by a mere stamp of a foot...”
“How can such a thing be possible?”
There is a saying that one can dominate all things with a single step or a single movement.
This is referred to as the Subjugation Step.
At that moment, the same thought flashed through the minds of the Shaolin monks.
‘...The Blood Demon Subjugation Step!’
None of them could have known then that this phrase would become the symbol of the current Blood Demon.
Master Gyeongo, the Master of the Muscle Tendon Changing Classic, was so stunned he stood agape. Snapping back to his senses, he shouted to the other monks.
“M-monks! Tend to the Arhats!”
“Y-yes, Master!”
The monks scrambled toward their fallen brothers. They rushed to see what had happened, only to find something miraculous: every single Arhat monk had fallen into a deep sleep.
When shaken awake, they looked utterly bewildered.
“What in the world...?”
“Did I collapse?”
“Everything just went dark all of a sudden...”
The reactions of the Arhat monks were identical across the board.
The Shaolin monks weren't the only ones watching in astonishment. Sama-yeong made a fuss as she spoke to her father, Moon Evil Sword Sama Chak.
“Father, did you see that? The 108 Arhat Formation that Shaolin is so proud of crumbled with just one stomp from the Young Master!”
Having lived in seclusion since childhood, her experience in the martial world was limited, but even she knew the prestige of Shaolin’s 108 Arhat Formation. That was why she had been so worried about Jin Un-hwi’s challenge.
But seeing them fall helplessly to a single stomp, she couldn't help but marvel.
Despite his daughter’s excitement, Sama Chak remained silent, his expression grim.
‘He infused his Primordial Qi into that stomp.’
Having broken through the Wall of Walls, he recognized the nature of that energy in an instant. If one loads the internal power of the Lower Dantian into sound, they can deliver a shock similar to a Sonic Wave or a Lion’s Roar.
However, this result was still difficult to comprehend.
‘To call it an evil art... there was no trace of wickedness in that energy. And even if it were an evil art, to bring down this many Arhat monks...’
It defied common sense.
The Arhat monks were not weaklings who would succumb so easily to trickery. Were they not the ones with the greatest talent and mental fortitude among Shaolin’s youth?
And yet, all of them had lost consciousness in a heartbeat.
‘He has mastered both Cold and Yang Steel energies simultaneously... just what happened to him in such a short time?’
It was that shocking.
If even Sama Chak, who had been watching closely, felt this way, how much more so for Abbot Jingak, who had set the condition?
‘Just what kind of technique is this?’
He couldn't sense any malice, so he couldn't dismiss it as a wicked art or sorcery. If anything, he felt a sense of profound purity.
That only made it more absurd.
‘...This is a disaster. Sigh.’
Abbot Jingak, whose eyes had nearly popped out in shock, could not hide his sense of futility. He had thought this was a clever plan that played on the unique temperament and pride of the Blood Demon.
Who could have known it would end like this?
[Amitabha. Abbot. What do you intend to do now?]
The voice of Master Gyeongo reached the Abbot’s ears via Sound Transmission.
[Are you truly going to release Benefactor Sama and hand over the Great Return Pill, our sect’s treasure? One of the two remaining pills was promised to the Master from Tianzhu in exchange for new scriptures. Why did you make such a reckless vow...?]
The Abbot had no excuse.
He had staked the Great Return Pill specifically to lure the Blood Cult Leader into his trap. He thought that by offering a sweet enough reward, the Cult Leader would accept a difficult condition that no one could realistically break without bloodshed. He never expected this.
[My tongue was too loose. Amitabha.]
Regardless of his position, he felt incredibly apologetic. Then, the voice of Master Gyeongjong, the Master of the Scripture Pavilion, echoed in his mind.
[...Abbot. A vow is a vow.]
[I am aware.]
Abbot Jingak had no intention of breaking his word. He had set the absurd condition solely to avoid bloodshed. If they were to fight two of the Five Great Villains, it was certain that Shaolin would suffer numerous casualties, even if they held the advantage in overall strength.
The temple was the domain of the Buddha. He could not allow such a tragedy to occur.
‘I thought I had secured enough time to potentially reform him... but for him to succeed so easily means Benefactor Sama’s luck has not yet run out. Everything must be the will of the Buddha.’
What use was there in trying to hold them back now? He had proclaimed it as the Abbot; for the sake of Shaolin’s honor, he had to keep his word.
It was painful to lose the Great Return Pill due to his own rashness, but he maintained a dignified face, pressed his palms together, and addressed Jin Un-hwi.
“Amitabha. That was... a truly remarkable talent you displayed, Cult Leader.”
It seemed he couldn't bring himself to call it "martial arts." His mind was likely a mess. He couldn't say it wasn't martial arts, but if he denied it, he’d have to accept the disgrace that his Arhat monks were defeated by mere sorcery. He couldn't contest the result.
“A vow is a vow. You may take Benefactor Sama with you.”
He spoke with dignity, hiding his feelings, but he looked somewhat bitter. I smiled thinly and said to Abbot Jingak.
“You’ve forgotten the Great Return Pill.”
“Ahem.”
At those words, the Ten Realms Ten Victories and the Eight Great Guardians looked visibly displeased. I could understand why. It was the supreme spirit medicine of Shaolin, incredibly difficult to make, with only one or two produced over thirty years. The thought of handing it over to me must have been gut-wrenching.
Even for monks who claimed to have no worldly desires, receiving Shaolin’s treasure, the Great Return Pill, was considered the highest honor.
“Great Leader, go to the Bodhi Courtyard immediately and bring the Great Return Pill...”
“Amitabha. Abbot. Please wait a moment.”
“Master of the Scripture Pavilion?”
The one who stopped him was none other than Master Gyeongjong.
—What’s he up to now?
Who knows.
Abbot Jingak looked puzzled, then frowned as he listened to something. Judging by the way Master Gyeongjong’s throat was vibrating, he was sending a Sound Transmission. The Abbot groaned, looking conflicted, before finally nodding reluctantly.
I spoke to them in a low voice.
“Have you suddenly become stingy with the Great Return Pill?”
Abbot Jingak shook his head.
“I have made a vow. How could I go back on my word?”
“I asked because the two of you seemed to be having quite a serious conversation. I wondered if you were displeased.”
Even if they were stingy, the Great Return Pill was already mine according to the vow. Then, Master Gyeongjong stepped forward and pressed his palms together.
“Amitabha. We already consider the Great Return Pill to be yours, Benefactor. That is not the issue.”
“Then do you have business with me?”
“I could not help but marvel at the incredible talent you showed just now. I have realized anew what it means for there to be a heaven above the heavens.”
Excessively favorable praise always has a reason. What was his intention? As I watched him silently, Gyeongjong looked at the monk who seemed to be the senior-most among the Eight Great Guardians and spoke.
“Great Leader, please stop by the Bodhi Courtyard and bring one Great Return Pill and two Lesser Restoration Pills.”
“Two Lesser Restoration Pills? Amitabha... Master Gyeongjong. Did I hear you correctly?”
“You heard correctly.”
“But why those?”
“I have received the Abbot’s permission. Please, bring them.”
At Gyeongjong’s words, the senior monk hesitated for a moment before bowing and vanishing toward the Bodhi Courtyard. I didn't hide my curiosity.
“Why are you asking for Lesser Restoration Pills?”
Master Gyeongjong smiled thinly.
“It was a great shame that I could not properly test my skills against you earlier, Benefactor. I have made a small, urgent request to the Abbot.”
“Is the request for the Lesser Restoration Pills?”
“The Lesser Restoration Pills are merely an addition.”
“An addition?”
“Benefactor. If you would allow it, I would like to make a proposal.”
As expected, his favor had an ulterior motive. He simply didn't want to lose the Great Return Pill. Was he going to propose something to replace it with the two Lesser Restoration Pills?
“My relationship with Shaolin has been settled amicably. Is there any need for me to take on the trouble of accepting your proposal?”
“It is not a bad deal for you. If things go well, you could walk away with two additional Lesser Restoration Pills. Even if luck isn't on your side, you would still receive two Lesser Restoration Pills instead of the Great Return Pill.”
I burst out laughing at his words.
“Hahahaha! So in the end, you’re just stingy about the Great Return Pill, aren't you?”
No matter how much he flowered his speech, the goal was to recover the Great Return Pill. Unlike other spirit medicines, the Great Return Pill was refined over a long period and was known to be 100% effective. It was called the supreme medicine because an ordinary person who consumed it would live a long, healthy life, and a martial artist would gain a full sixty years of internal power.
Since such a pill was about to fall into the hands of the Blood Cult Leader, they naturally wanted to stop it by any means necessary.
“I will not deny it. However, I believe you know that while the Lesser Restoration Pill is not quite a Great Return Pill, its value is still greater than almost any other spirit medicine.”
Of course, I knew. I had heard that consuming one could grant ten years of internal power. I also heard they were nearly as difficult to make as the Great Return Pill, so their numbers were limited. However, their value couldn't compare to the Great Return Pill.
“I’m sorry to say this, Master, but I’ve already secured my father-in-law, and I’ve been lucky enough to get the Great Return Pill. I have no further greed. I shall take my leave.”
As I turned to go toward my father-in-law and Sama-yeong, Master Gyeongjong called out urgently.
“Amitabha! If you do not wish it, it is only right that you refuse. However, this is not solely because of the Great Return Pill.”
“Then what is it?”
“This temple is called the source and symbol of Orthodox martial arts. Yet, the 108 Arhat Formation crumbled to a single stomp without even being able to lift a hand.”
“You wish to restore Shaolin’s honor?”
“That is correct.”
“At least you’re honest.”
If they could restore their honor and recover the Great Return Pill, it would be killing two birds with one stone for Shaolin. Moreover, by offering the Lesser Restoration Pills regardless of the outcome, they would appear magnanimous.
I shook my head and said, “You’re really making it hard for me to refuse.”
“Then will you accept my proposal?”
“If you accept my proposal as well.”
“A proposal?”
“Oh, it’s just adding one thing to your proposal, like you did.”
Master Gyeongjong frowned, then asked cautiously.
“...Speak.”
“Two pills are too few. Let’s make it three.”
“!?”
Master Gyeongjong looked dumbfounded. He had likely barely received permission for the two Lesser Restoration Pills. To hear me say that wasn't enough and demand three must have been staggering.
“Benefactor. Two Lesser Restoration Pills grant twenty years of internal power. How can that be...”
“A Great Return Pill is sixty years of internal power.”
“But...”
“In truth, if you want me to wager the Great Return Pill, it would only be logical to stake six Lesser Restoration Pills to match it. But I realize that would be difficult for Shaolin.”
“Sigh...”
“So, let’s settle on three.”
Abbot Jingak, who had been watching, stepped in.
“Cult Leader. Even so, three is excessive. If you win, you would take the Great Return Pill plus two Lesser Restoration Pills.”
“But sixty years could become twenty years, couldn't it?”
“Sigh. How can you calculate it like that?”
“Three pills. If you agree to that, I will accept Master Gyeongjong’s proposal.”
At my firm tone, Master Gyeongjong glanced at Abbot Jingak, looking troubled.
“Benefactor. These are Lesser Restoration Pills. They aren't just any medicine.”
“Three pills.”
“Benefactor...”
“Three.”
As I stood my ground, Abbot Jingak looked at Master Gyeongjong with a displeased expression. Master Gyeongjong looked like he was sitting on a bed of needles and couldn't say a word.
After a moment of deliberation, Abbot Jingak spoke to me in a reluctant voice.
“...Fine.”
As he grudgingly accepted, the Lesser Conversation Sword cackled.
—You devilish brat. You actually pushed it up to three?
I didn't have to accept the challenge, so if I was going to do it, I might as well demand this much. Besides, three Lesser Restoration Pills and one Great Return Pill... that would be the equivalent of ninety years of cultivated internal power.
I suppressed a smile and spoke casually.
“Then, what are we competing in?”
Master Gyeongjong, his fighting spirit now fully roused, replied.
“I may still be lacking, but I pride myself on not losing to anyone when it comes to internal power.”
As expected, he was proposing a contest in his greatest strength. Having mastered the Face Washing Scripture, the Muscle Tendon Changing Classic, and the Nine Yang True Scripture, Master Gyeongjong possessed a monstrous level of internal power, rivaling my father-in-law, Sama Chak. It was only natural for him to have such pride.
“Internal power... fine.”
Accepting readily, I held out both palms toward him. Master Gyeongjong shook his head and pressed his palms together.
“Amitabha. You must have exhausted a significant amount of energy competing against the 108 Arhat Formation just now. I will give you time to recover.”
“There’s no need.”
“Once we begin, there is no turning back.”
“I should be the one saying that.”
Master Gyeongjong clicked his tongue and held out his palms. A look of determination shone in his eyes, as if he intended to pay back everything with this one match.
And so, the internal strength contest between Master Gyeongjong and me began.
Barely half an hour later.
Watching the backs of three figures leisurely exiting the main gate of Shaolin Temple, Abbot Jingak commanded the monks in a voice simmering with frustration.
“Scatter salt everywhere those people stepped within this temple. Do not miss a single spot!”