Chapter 158
Chapter 158
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 158
Chapter Title: When Chaos Rains, the Hidden Dragon Stirs (2)
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Eum Yu-kyeong let out ragged breaths.
Her once-neat attire was disheveled, and her face was flushed red. The mask that had covered her features had been discarded long ago. Bushy twigs and fallen leaves clung to her hair and shoulders from crashing through the underbrush.
Shaolin's pursuit had begun right after she escaped the Janggyeong Pavilion. The temple's warrior monks dogged her relentlessly.
She had shaken them off several times by tapping into her qi, but before she could descend even halfway down Mount Song, she clashed with the monks.
The Shaolin warrior monks were terrifyingly strong. Individually, none could match Eum Yu-kyeong, but their combined assault was enough to corner her.
If only she had the sword she'd left at the sect gate, she could have slipped away more easily. Instead, facing them barehanded had dragged things out.
In that time, a dragnet had spread across the entire mountain. Eum Yu-kyeong had missed her best window to escape.
“I can’t waste any more time.”
She moved to press on.
“Amitabha!”
A thunderous Buddhist chant rang out as a group of monks blocked her path.
An elder monk with nine precepts branded on his shaved head led over a hundred young monks. So Cheon was among them.
The elder stepped forward.
“Amitabha! Who might this benefactress be, and from whence does she hail? Shaolin is no marketplace where one enters at will and leaves freely.”
The elder's chant belonged to Gwangmun, head of the Guangwen Hall and Luohan Hall. The warriors behind him were the finest from Luohan Hall.
The longer this dragged on, the worse it was for Eum Yu-kyeong.
‘No choice. I’ll go all out, drive them back, and break free.’
Resolved, Eum Yu-kyeong launched herself into the air.
A frost-like aura emanated from her entire body.
Gwangmun's face hardened.
“Demonic qi? A demonic cult enforcer?”
He was a seasoned high monk, naturally sensitive to such energies.
“Demonic cult?”
“Amitabha! A demon invading Shaolin itself.”
Anger flared on the monks' faces.
At that moment, Gwangmun bellowed.
“Form the Hundred Eight Arhats Formation! Subdue the witch!”
The monks wasted no time, unfolding the Hundred Eight Arhats Formation around Eum Yu-kyeong. Known as the supreme formation for facing a single foe across history, it was a time-honored absolute defense.
Once the Hundred Eight Arhats Formation was set, not even the heavens splitting open could let her escape.
Whooo!
As it activated, Eum Yu-kyeong spread her arms wide. A surge of potent energy blasted toward the formation.
The Demonic Cult's ultimate technique, Dark Heaven Scorching Fire Hand, erupted.
“Urk!”
“Huh!”
The perfectly timed strike shattered the formation's rhythm.
Eum Yu-kyeong exploited the gap.
Her pale hand lashed out fiercely. She was unleashing her signature Falling Moon Divine Sword barehanded.
Shhick!
Qi gathered on her white hand, mimicking a blade.
“Guh!”
“Urgh!”
Monks crumpled in an instant.
“How dare you!”
Enraged, Gwangmun unleashed Great Power Vajra Palm.
Kwarrr!
A colossal force barreled toward Eum Yu-kyeong.
She bit her lip. Gwangmun's skill far exceeded her expectations.
‘Clashing head-on would favor him.’
She abandoned a direct confrontation, retreating instead.
In that instant, Gwangmun's movements shifted.
Swish swish swish!
His body seemed to multiply into nine, then recombine before her in layers.
He had deployed Lian Tai Jiu Pin, one of Shaolin's pinnacle movement arts.
Closing in on her front in a flash, he spread his palm wide.
Whooo!
Bodhi Jade Dragon Seal, one of Shaolin's seventy-two supreme arts ranking at the top, unfolded.
As leader of the Hundred Eight Arhats, Gwangmun's prowess was immense.
The exquisitely timed attack left Eum Yu-kyeong unable to fully block.
Boom!
“Black!”
A deafening roar shook her body violently.
A trickle of blood appeared at her mouth. Internal injuries. Her movements slowed.
The Hundred Eight Arhats seized the opening, encircling her.
Whooo!
The formation activated.
A hundred eight禅 staffs assaulted her.
Puk puk puk!
Eum Yu-kyeong countered with Dark Heaven Scorching Fire Hand. But facing the Hundred Eight Arhats barehanded without a sword was impossible from the start.
Whooo!
Potent energy swirled around the formation. Immense pressure converged solely on her.
“Hnng!”
Eum Yu-kyeong's face paled.
‘If only I had my sword...’
With Falling Moon Divine Sword, she could at least stall, if not break it.
Barehanded, its power was limited. It couldn't shatter a legendary formation like this. So Cheon and Gwangmun blocked her retreat besides.
Eum Yu-kyeong was driven into a corner.
Wounds accumulated across her body, her qi and blood churning, preventing proper inner power circulation.
Gwangmun spoke, eyeing the scene.
“The moment we capture the witch, we’ll seal her with the Ten Directions Binding Ritual.”
“Is that truly necessary?”
So Cheon questioned.
The Ten Directions Binding Ritual was designed to seal demonic inner power. The catch: it didn’t just seal power—it utterly shattered body and mind, turning the victim into an irreparable cripple.
“No mercy for demons.”
“Understood.”
So Cheon replied with a reluctant expression at Gwangmun's firm tone. He still disliked using the ritual.
One of the Nine Dragons, hailed as the realm's top prodigy, yet he had scarcely fought other warriors himself.
Deep down, he wanted to fight personally rather than spectate the formation. But Gwangmun forbade it.
Shaolin invested heavily in So Cheon. Not merely as one of the Nine Dragons, but with greater ambitions.
He was to lead the next generation of the martial world.
Not a single defeat, not the slightest blemish, could mar him.
Thus, Gwangmun allowed observation but prohibited direct combat.
‘With the Hundred Eight Arhats active, not even collapsing heavens offer her escape.’
A millennium of Shaolin essence infused the formation. No individual had ever broken it in the temple's history.
Whooo!
As time passed, the formation's power grew exponentially. Another of its strengths.
Like interlocking gears, the seamless attacks amplified over time, cornering the foe.
Indeed, Eum Yu-kyeong teetered on the brink.
‘The pure yang qi binding the Hundred Eight Arhats is shredding my power.’
It made channeling her energy excruciatingly difficult.
Without proper inner power, her techniques lost potency. Swordless, she couldn't even muster half her true strength.
Puk!
She took a hit to the shoulder.
The refined iron禅 staff struck harder than any divine weapon. She twisted to deflect the impact, but her shoulder swelled instantly.
Cold sweat trickled down her spine.
‘Time for my final trump card?’
This wasn't her full power. Beyond Falling Moon Divine Sword, she had a hidden ace.
The problem: using it brought severe backlash. Months of immobility at least.
A months-long hiatus now would be fatal.
‘No other choice...’
She bit her lip, rallying her remaining power.
Whooo!
The air around her churned wildly.
Sensing danger, Gwangmun shouted.
“The witch's aura is ominous. Shift the Hundred Eight Arhats to Kaibi Zhen Tianxia!”
Kaibi Zhen Tianxia was the formation's ultimate offensive mode. No demon had ever survived it.
Kwa kwa kwa!
Atmospheric vortexes swirled around the formation. Titanic pressure formed, all focused on her alone.
Grrr!
Overwhelmed, Eum Yu-kyeong dropped to one knee. Veins bulged across her body; capillaries burst in her eyes, turning them bloodshot.
“Cough!”
Her face ashen, she vomited blood. Still, she endured, preparing her ace.
Then—
*Relax and yield to the pressure.*
A transmission voice echoed in her ear.
Tears welled in her eyes.
‘You’ve come.’
She dispersed her rallied power, going fully limp.
“The witch must crave death.”
As glee lit Gwangmun's face—
Swish!
A long cord snaked like a viper, coiling around her waist and yanking her skyward.
“It's an accomplice!”
“Saving the witch—stop them!”
The formation monks gasped, intensifying their assault.
Pabababak!
The cord around her thrashed like a serpent, flinging nearby monks aside. They braced with their staffs, barely holding the formation.
Meanwhile, it hoisted her into the sky.
“No you don’t.”
Gwangmun launched himself after. The Hundred Eight Arhats followed.
Just as they reached for her silhouette—
“Blood Slaughter Rain.”
A lion's roar boomed, unleashing rain. Sword-gang rain.
Kukukukwa!
“Gah!”
“Impossible.”
Horror dawned on Gwangmun and the formation.
In the martial world, manifesting even one sword-gang earned absolute master status. Even in Shaolin, among the Nine Great Sects' leaders, few could.
Let alone a rain of them?
At this otherworldly sight unimaginable before, their faces drained of color.
Kwaaaaang!
The Hundred Eight Arhats clashed with the sword-gang rain.
The earth quaked like an earthquake; the air raged madly. Massive trees uprooted whole, boulders tumbled.
After the gale passed, devastation reigned.
The area was a wasteland as if a volcano had erupted, monks scattered amid the ruins.
By heaven's grace, none perished, but despair etched the Hundred Eight Arhats' faces.
Their invincible formation—shattered.
The undefeated legend—crumbled.
“Impossible!”
Gwangmun's white beard quivered.
Her rescuer was clearly alone. One person felled the invincible legend.
“Who the hell is he?”
An unprecedented sense of crisis overwhelmed him. An absolute master beyond dreams had appeared. Imagining the storm his emergence would bring terrified him.
Gwangmun scanned around.
The Hundred Eight Arhats were there. But nowhere was So Cheon.
‘Could it be So Cheon?’