Chapter 190
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 190
Chapter Title: Chapter 38: Amorous Feelings (5)
‘Three Talents Formation!’
Jeokwol’s eyes settled calmly.
In front of her, three Shaolin warrior monks stood tall in a sharp triangular formation like spears.
The one at the vanguard held a precept saber, while the monks arrayed to his left and right rear wielded a long spear and a nine-section whip respectively, ready to coordinate seamlessly.
This Three Talents Formation was typically used against weaker foes spread out widely—ideal for breaking through an encirclement or charging straight at a target.
Yet the Shaolin monks had deployed it for defense.
Rather than one blocking the front, all three fanned out wide to left, right, and center. Even so, they maintained perfect coordination, linking as one.
Their intent was to keep Jeokwol from advancing.
“You three are going to such lengths just for me.”
“Numbers vary depending on the foe. Much like how three toil for a single master.”
“We hold the advantage. Do you three?”
“Confidence is always subjective. It’s also what clouds an accurate read on the opponent.”
The Shaolin monk spoke without a hint of agitation.
“True enough. Confidence is ever subjective. By my reckoning, you three are in for a rough day.”
“Amitabha! A monk of the Buddha knows no rough days.”
“Is that so? Let’s see, then.”
Shii!
Jeokwol soared lightly like a butterfly.
She wasn’t fast. Her movements were slow enough for the naked eye to track every detail.
“Careful!”
The spear-wielding monk called out urgently.
A painfully slow motion... an attack where every shift was visible... yet no one knew how to counter it. They could only stare blankly, unsure where to even move.
Tseeek!
A longsword plunged down toward the head of the precept saber monk.
Chwarak!
A gust stirred from behind. The nine-section whip monk had lashed out at the empty air.
Tat! Tatatattak!
The spear monk followed with a flurry of thrusts.
Only one stared vacantly at Jeokwol—the vanguard precept saber monk, frozen in place.
“Go!”
The spear monk barked fiercely.
The sound wasn’t loud. It was a murmur, like a babe’s babble. For such a ferocious shout, its softness was almost eerie.
This was the Shaolin Temple’s Whispering Lion’s Roar.
A shout infused with full power, carrying immense resonance—yet delivered solely to the intended target.
At its peak, they said, even those nearby couldn’t hear it. It rang crystal clear only for the chosen one.
The precept saber monk snapped alert.
“Hut!”
He swung his saber in shock.
Saaat!
Jeokwol unleashed another motion.
She danced ethereally. Beautiful as a courtesan. Hands swirling, a blooming smile.
“Uhahaha!”
“Hahaha!”
The Shaolin monks burst into laughter as one.
But the laughs were bizarre. Faces twisted in agony, forcibly suppressed pain, yet booming voices. As if every ounce of qi poured into the sound.
Suuu!
Jeokwol retreated.
The monks staggered as if freed from taut ropes.
“As monks of the Buddha, no hardship for you, right?”
The three had no strength left to reply to Jeokwol’s words.
Sweat beaded on their foreheads. Cold sweat trickled down their spines.
No clash had occurred between them. Jeokwol had approached with an attack, then withdrawn midway. Not a single exchange. No tangling of footwork. Yet the three monks were drenched as if fished from water.
“Shall we go again?”
Jeokwol raised her sword.
“Three Buddha Seals!”
The spear monk declared, face rigid. The other two gripped their weapons two-handed.
Precept saber in both hands.
Nine-section whip clutched double-fisted.
“Three Buddha Seals. You’re truly staking your lives? It’s do or die—still proceeding?”
“……”
The three monks were no longer serene. Only now did they realize Jeokwol was beyond them. Even united, the three couldn’t match her alone.
Impossible!
Yet possible. Jeokwol was dubbed fourth in rank, but she rivaled the first—her master, Nogu.
Facing her felt like facing the master himself.
Jeokwol’s martial prowess was that formidable. The Beautiful Phoenix Dance Hands she’d just shown was a technique any notable pugilist could perform.
Seemingly slow yet blindingly swift—it was the foundational footwork for Beautiful Phoenix Dance Hands. The drifting courtesan gestures were standard for sword dances.
Indeed. Beautiful Phoenix Dance Hands wasn’t for lethal combat. It was for sword dances after a drink, when the mood struck.
Yet when Jeokwol executed it, the precept saber monk lost his senses. Direction lost in an instant. Her version was flawless.
The Shaolin monks had to squeeze every drop of qi for their lion’s roars.
Alerting each other to peril. Warning to stay sharp—the blade approaches.
Had Jeokwol pressed on... blood would have sprayed.
Whose? No need to say.
Total defeat!
Here, the Shaolin warrior monks chose the Three Buddha Seals.
Buddha Seals meant imprints of the Buddha—crossing from this world to the next.
Deploying Three Buddha Seals guaranteed one crossed to the afterlife. Self or foe, one side perished.
The three Shaolin monks summoned their qi in full.
Robes swelled taut. Faces flushed deep red.
“Hoo...”
Jeokwol sighed.
No sword drawn. She merely gazed at the three, resolute in death’s embrace as they invoked Three Buddha Seals.
‘Lost.’
Jeokwol smiled wryly.
She could end these three in one clash. Though Nogu’s direct disciples, they weren’t Nogu himself. Laughably inferior.
Their arts might derive from Nogu’s, but feeble.
Yet... the fight was over. She’d lost. Their goal—to halt her steps—achieved. Nogu had surely met Four Thousand Four by now.
Bukmyeong’s scheme of three ganging up on Nogu was foiled.
“No need to die. Go.”
Jeokwol said with a smile.
The three grasped her intent. They released the qi they’d gathered.
Three Buddha Seals erupted qi on attack, an ironclad assault. Whip coiling legs, saber cleaving torso.
Of course, it wouldn’t land clean.
Whip segments severed. Saber failing to bisect, inviting death instead. Follow-up fells the whip man.
But in that gap...
Two sacrifice, blinding her view. Hiding the spear monk.
That was the true aim.
The instant those two fell, the vanished spear—loaded with full-body power—impales Jeokwol.
Success wins. Failure snaps the spear.
What then?
The three dared not speak of victory.
“Patron.”
The three monks opened their mouths toward Jeokwol, words forming. But nothing followed.
They wanted to urge her: leave the Heavenly Annihilation Division. Return to the righteous path. You don’t seem evil—why bind yourself to such a wicked group?
Yet a master like Jeokwol chose her path.
Jeokwol sheathed her sword. Casually glanced toward Four Thousand Four.
To aid him, she should’ve cut these three down instantly, rushed ahead. Then Bukmyeong’s joint assault might’ve been in time.
‘Too late now.’
“Just the two of you?”
Miansosal laughed.
These two stepping up to block him?
“Us two should suffice to halt a patron’s steps...”
Shiiik!
Miansosal didn’t wait for their words. While they spoke, he was already floating midair.
Chaak! Tseeek!
The two monks countered instantly. Despite mid-sentence, vigilance was up. Battle began the moment they met Miansosal.
Suut! Susut!
Miansosal plummeted from above. The two closed in.
Spear thrust straight at the sword. Whip-like prayer beads lashed at Miansosal’s waist.
In that instant, Miansosal’s form dropped dead from the sky.
A splendid Thousand Jin Drop!
Thousand Jin Drop loaded power into the feet, plummeting like a falling boulder. Yet Miansosal executed it body-wide. Stuck flat to the ground mid-attack.
“Hut!”
The beads monk swiftly redirected. But,
Tseeek! Cheok!
A blue flash before their eyes. Crimson blood erupted.
“Damn!”
The partner unleashed Flying Dragon Turns Head, slamming down his spear.
Pop!
Miansosal rocketed skyward again.
Bullet Body Cloud Grab!
A technique soaring to seize clouds, knees unbending—instant launch. Opposite of Thousand Jin Drop.
Having slashed the beads monk, Miansosal shot up in the same motion.
Buuk!
A skin drum tore.
“Huh! Haha... A...mi...ta...”
The beads-attacking monk collapsed, laughing hollowly.
Miansosal, surging from the slash, cleaved his partner in near-sync.
Elite Shaolin duo—elders yielded half a move—felled together. Attempting paired mandarin duck sword formation with spear and beads, never activating.
“More than expect...”
What did the spear monk mean? He fell unfinished.
Miansosal never hesitated. No sooner the two crumpled than he shot toward Four Thousand Four.
He hadn’t sensed their approach.
Focused wholly on Four Thousand Four, but true lapse came with Nogu’s arrival. Fixated on him, he missed these emerging.
One step late.
Killed as fast as possible, still one step late.
Had Nogu struck, Four Thousand Four would be dead. No blade winds yet... but with Shadowless Steps, no fight either.
‘If dying, croak later. By my hand!’
Tseeeek!
Miansosal ignored the fallen pair, charging straight ahead.