Chapter 481
Chapter 481
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 481
Chapter Title: The Bloody Shaolin
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Fwoooosh!
Black rings of blade energy materialized around Bu Eun-seol’s body.
It didn't matter that his blade was carved from stone. With his internal energy, he could have created sharp rings of blade energy even with a pair of chopsticks.
Vrrrrrr.
As the rings of blade energy emerged in all directions, Dam-jeung’s eyes widened.
“That is…”
It was a supreme blade art that could only be unleashed by someone whose spirit was one with the technique, even if they possessed the manual.
Wasn’t this the Seven Forms of the Bloody Tear, the art of the Seven-Fingered Demon Blade, Bu Jan-yang?
Swish!
And from between those rings, black blade energy surged forth.
First Form of the Bloody Tear: Life's Breath, Death's Return.
He was unleashing the Seven Forms of the Bloody Tear in the same manner as the Nameless Old Man, who had been a substitute for the Seven-Fingered Demon Blade while trapped in the Cave of Repentance his entire life.
“Dodge it!”
One of the martial monks shouted, but the blade energy had already spread like a dark cloud.
Screeeech!
An eerie, scraping sound echoed from all directions as the pitch-black blade energy began to slice through the monks' bodies.
Shhhk! Shhhhk!
They tried to block or evade the black blade energy, but it was futile.
If they blocked with a weapon, the weapon shattered. If they blocked with a hand, the hand was severed.
If they tried to flee, the blade energy expanded at an incredible speed, enveloping the escaping enemy.
Screeeech!
It was like the claws of a demon tearing through the air.
Crash! Kwoooom!
Realizing they could not stop the spreading blade energy, the martial monks of the Bloody Shaolin began to unleash the destructive Seventy-Two Supreme Arts all at once.
Their arts were not only several times more powerful than the standard Shaolin's Seventy-Two Supreme Arts, but also included various killing techniques.
But Bu Eun-seol paid them no mind and changed his blade art once more.
—I have reached a point where I know not if I will live or die.
Bu Eun-seol unleashed the Third Form of the Bloody Tear, Half-Life, Half-Death, not with rings, but with pure blade energy.
Chiiik! Chiiik!
As the black blade energy spread in all directions like a demon's claws, the dozens of martial monks surrounding Bu Eun-seol froze.
“…”
Their bodies, sliced diagonally from shoulder to abdomen, gushed crimson blood.
The attack was so fast and sharp, they couldn't even feel the cut until they saw it with their own eyes.
And it was brutal.
Shhhhk!
Simultaneously, a dozen monks collapsed into bloody heaps.
“Now…”
Bu Eun-seol looked down at Dam-jeung with blazing red eyes and spoke in an impossibly low voice.
“Let’s test how strong the Abbot of the Bloody Shaolin is.”
“Hoo hoo hoo.”
Dam-jeung gazed at the hellscape Bu Eun-seol had created and suddenly burst into maniacal laughter.
“Gahahaha!”
Laughing like a madman while pointing a finger, Dam-jeung nodded.
“Yes, this proves you’re no Emissary of the Three Realms.”
“What did you say?”
As Bu Eun-seol’s eyebrow twitched, Dam-jeung clasped his hands behind his back.
“Follow me.”
“Nonsense. The Bloody Shaolin will be destroyed.”
A solemn light emanated from Bu Eun-seol’s eyes.
“For the sake of protecting Shaolin, you cruelly… innocent disciples…”
“They are not this temple’s disciples.”
Dam-jeung said with a smirk.
“The monks you’ve cut down so far were all villains who killed innocent commoners or raped women.”
“What do you mean?”
Dam-jeung glanced at the dismembered monks.
“The Bloody Shaolin experiments with and advances our temple’s martial arts on irredeemable villains.”
Turning his head, he stared intently into Bu Eun-seol’s eyes.
“Sometimes we gouge out their eyes, cut out their tongues, and sever their limbs. All to find out how to further advance our temple’s martial arts.”
Bu Eun-seol knitted his brow.
He had never dreamed the Bloody Shaolin had such a story behind it.
“Of course, you would call this cruel. And it is certainly not something a man of the cloth should do.”
Dam-jeung let out a heavy breath and looked up at the empty space.
“But if I do not go to hell, who will?”
“…”
“This temple has been invaded by countless external enemies, and yet we have survived. The thousand-year history of Shaolin was made possible by the contributions of the Bloody Shaolin.”
Bu Eun-seol spoke coldly.
“Don’t spew such sophistry. How does that make you any different from the Three Realms?”
“Who said we were different?”
Dam-jeung glared at Bu Eun-seol with cold eyes.
“The enemies targeting our temple are constantly growing stronger, even as we speak. Therefore, the Bloody Shaolin must also constantly grow stronger. By any means necessary.”
A madness flowed in his eyes.
In them, one could almost see the tragic history of Shaolin, which had endlessly shed blood against foreign invaders.
“I don’t expect your understanding.”
Dam-jeung’s blazing eyes seemed to weep blood.
“Only when you’ve had to watch your sworn brothers, with whom you shared every meal, be decapitated, have their eyes gouged out, and their entrails spilled by demons… can you understand.”
Bu Eun-seol remained silent.
He, too, would not have hesitated to become a demon if it meant he could eliminate the fiend who had brutally murdered his grandfather, Bu Jan-yang.
For Shaolin, which had endured constant turmoil for a thousand years, it was as if they were endlessly reliving the same brutal history Bu Eun-seol had experienced.
“I see.”
Bu Eun-seol nodded with a look of understanding.
“Since this is the affair of another sect, and you say the dead were villains… I will not press the matter further.”
“Hmph, listen to the supreme ruler of the martial world.”
Dam-jeung scoffed and gestured toward a dark passage.
Rumble.
At that moment, monks clad in black robes slowly emerged from the passage and began to tend to the bodies of the dead monks.
Their movements were extremely respectful, and they continuously chanted Buddhist scriptures, praying for the souls’ passage to paradise.
These, it seemed, were the true monks of the Bloody Shaolin.
“You don’t seem like you’ll follow me quietly, so let’s talk here.”
Dam-jeung looked at Bu Eun-seol and said.
“Why in the world did you crawl back here?”
“You know who I am?”
“Aren’t you the Divine Calculator’s new pet?”
Bu Eun-seol was not particularly surprised.
The fact that the Divine Calculator had installed various mechanisms in this secret passage before…
That was something that could only be done with the help of the Bloody Shaolin.
This meant Dam-jeung must have been observing everything when Bu Eun-seol passed through the gates.
“By the way, why does a young whelp like you keep speaking so informally? Do you even know how old I am?”
“I do not.”
“This brat?”
Dam-jeung’s eyes flew open as he stared at Bu Eun-seol, his eyebrows shooting up to the heavens.
“If you dare speak informally to me one more time, I will make sure you are framed for the murder of an abbot.”
“Is that something a disciple of Buddha should say?”
“When have you ever treated me like one?”
As befitting the Abbot of the Bloody Shaolin, Dam-jeung showed no trace of a Buddhist figure.
He was like a madman who would laugh while cutting off his own hands and feet if it meant achieving his goal.
“Hoo hoo hoo.”
As Bu Eun-seol let out a dry laugh, Dam-jeung scoffed.
“What? Are you overjoyed to find another madman like yourself in the martial world?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Bu Eun-seol, changing his tone, nodded.
“Fine. I will treat you with the respect due to an elder as you wish. Just give me a straight answer.”
“An answer to what?”
“The Seven-Fingered Demon Blade.”
Bu Eun-seol’s eyes flashed.
“What is his connection to the Bloody Shaolin?”
Dam-jeung narrowed his eyes into slits and said.
“I am a member of the Bloody Shaolin. And everything about the Bloody Shaolin is a secret. Even if I knew something, I could not tell an outsider, especially not someone from the demonic path.”
Though he said that, a sly smile was forming on his lips.
Seeing through Dam-jeung’s scheme, Bu Eun-seol said calmly.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You’re quite direct. Just like the successor of the Demonic Palace should be.”
After showering him with sweet praise, Dam-jeung said in a low voice.
“The martial arts of the Lord of the Demonic Palace should suffice.”
“Martial arts?”
“Our Bloody Shaolin has various demonic martial arts, but the arts of the Lord of the Demonic Palace, Sado Mumyeong, are unknown.”
A persistent light flickered in Dam-jeung’s eyes.
“And as the successor of the Demonic Palace, you must primarily use the arts of its Lord.”
During his past confrontation with the Heavenly Sword, Bu Eun-seol had publicly used the True Arts of Will, and many masters of both the orthodox and unorthodox factions had recognized them as the martial arts of the Heavenly Demon Emperor.
It seemed Dam-jeung was also well aware of this fact.
“If you pass on those martial arts, I might be willing to talk.”
A sly smile spread across Dam-jeung’s lips as he continued.
“If you don’t want to, then leave quietly. No matter how much you beg, my lips will not open.”
This was an absurd and unreasonable demand.
To a martial artist, their ultimate techniques were more precious than life itself.
What if one were to leak their sect’s martial arts without permission? That was a crime of betraying one’s master and sect.
Not only the individual, but their family and anyone associated with them would all be killed.
And he wasn’t asking for just anything, but the ultimate arts of the Heavenly Demon Emperor.
‘Is he trying to make me his puppet?’
What if Bu Eun-seol were to yield to Dam-jeung’s threat and hand over the True Arts of Will?
Shaolin could use this to blackmail Bu Eun-seol until the day he died.
Or they could easily frame him as a spy for the orthodox faction.
“For a man of the cloth to be so cunning and greedy.”
“Hoo hoo hoo. In the first place, the Bloody Shaolin can’t be called a part of the cloth. If it were, we would never have attached the word ‘Blood’ to the sacred name of ‘Shaolin.’”
Dam-jeung opened his narrow eyes slightly and said.
“I won’t force you. But if you hand over the martial arts of the Lord of the Demonic Palace, I will tell you what I know.”
He then added one more thing.
“This condition won’t be bad for you either. No matter how great you are, if I ring the bell just once, all three thousand disciples of Shaolin will rush out and surround you.”
That was the truth.
This was a hidden facility beneath the Shaolin Temple grounds. If all of Shaolin’s masters surrounded him with their full strength?
It was uncertain whether even Ak Mu-ryeong, the Human Demon, let alone Bu Eun-seol, could escape unscathed.
“So you’re saying if I give you the martial art formulas, you’ll spare my life and let me leave Shaolin safely.”
“You heard me correctly.”
“Hahaha.”
Bu Eun-seol let out a low laugh, then…
“Gwahahahaha!”
He suddenly burst into a thunderous, world-shaking roar of laughter.
“More demonic than the demonic path, and more skilled at threats than the grunts of the underworld.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
As Dam-jeung said with a smile, Bu Eun-seol spoke coldly.
“If I were the type to fall for such tricks, I would have walked a different path long ago.”
Crack, crackle.
Suddenly, the sound of bones cracking echoed from Bu Eun-seol’s body.
Woooong!
His body then floated into the air as hundreds of strands of true energy formed into long, hand-like appendages.
The sight, a mixture of black and blood-red light, was reminiscent of a Thousand-Armed deity.
Enraged, Bu Eun-seol had unleashed the demonic energy of the Secret Art of the Withered Tree, pushing the True Arts of Will to their absolute limit.
“These are the secret arts passed down by the Heavenly Demon Emperor.”
Bu Eun-seol’s eyes, as he floated in the air, radiated the aura of a great demon capable of killing tens of thousands as easily as swatting flies.
“Take them if you have the skill.”
Dam-jeung had misjudged.
If only he had told Bu Eun-seol everything about the Seven-Fingered Demon Blade from the start.
If only he had listened to him pleasantly…
Perhaps Bu Eun-seol would have handed over the True Arts of Will on a silver platter.
He was the type to repay a sip of water by digging a well.
But by seizing a weakness and trying to exploit it, Dam-jeung had not only failed to gain anything but had instead unleashed Bu Eun-seol’s boundless killing intent.
“Are you planning to fight our temple alone?”
“You talk too much.”
As Bu Eun-seol extended his hand…
Shhhhk!
Hundreds of strands of true energy shot toward Dam-jeung like lightning.
Thud thud thud.
Dam-jeung quickly dodged, but the wall where he had been standing shattered into hundreds of pieces and fell to the floor.
Rumble.
Simultaneously, monks in black robes, their eyes gleaming, surrounded the area where Bu Eun-seol stood.
These were the true martial monks of the Bloody Shaolin, raised by Dam-jeung himself.
“The likes of you are not enough. Ring the bell.”
A blood-red glint flickered in Bu Eun-seol’s eyes.
“Let all the disciples of Shaolin come.”
Dam-jeung stared blankly for a moment.
He had thought it was just a bluff.
But Bu Eun-seol truly intended to fight all the disciples of Shaolin.
“Are you confident you’ll survive?”
“I know nothing of the sort. However…”
Bu Eun-seol wore a bitter smile.
“I am confident I can slaughter the promising young disciples of Shaolin, including those of the Bloody Shaolin.”
An infinite killing intent, impossible to describe with words, surged in his blood-soaked eyes.
Dam-jeung’s mouth fell open.
Just a moment ago, the man had possessed a clear aura that seemed susceptible to threats.
But the moment he was threatened and pressured, he had suddenly transformed into a great demon possessing a demonic energy comparable to the Three Great Demons.
‘This bastard is crazy enough to actually do it.’
What if Bu Eun-seol, prepared for death, decided to only slaughter Shaolin’s young disciples?
Even if they managed to kill Bu Eun-seol, Shaolin would have to seal its gates that very day.
The young disciples were the future of a sect.
If they lost them all?
It could take over a hundred years to recover their strength.
“Kekeke. Kahahaha!”
Finding himself checkmated, Dam-jeung suddenly burst into maniacal laughter.
“Indeed, you’re as impressive as they say! Even if you die, you’ll take the young disciples with you! Hahaha!”
After a hearty laugh, he abruptly stopped.
“Well, I suppose I have no choice but to respond.”
He nodded at the monks, and those surrounding Bu Eun-seol retreated like an ebbing tide.
“I lose.”
Dam-jeung raised both hands and smiled.
“I’ll answer you.”
But as Bu Eun-seol remained floating in the air, his eyes still flashing with a bloody light, Dam-jeung yelled at the top of his lungs.
“This brat! Didn’t I just say I lost?! Are you still going to be so stiff-necked? Don’t you want to hear about the Seven-Fingered Demon Blade? Huh?”
Dam-jeung, the leader of the Bloody Shaolin.
He was no ordinary man either.
From Bu Eun-seol’s perspective, he was closer to a demonic madman than a disciple of Buddha.
And madmen understand each other.
Thud.
Releasing his power, Bu Eun-seol descended from the air and nodded.
“A wise choice.”
“You rotten bastard. Just like a scion of the demonic path, threatening to pick off and slaughter only the young disciples of Shaolin.”
“How shameless. Who was it that made the first threat?”
“Fine. You win, you win. Ooh, I’m so scared.”
Clasping his hands behind his back, Dam-jeung walked toward the inner passage.
When Bu Eun-seol stood still, he turned his head and said irritably.
“Are you coming or not? Don’t tell me you want to squat down and talk right there?”
Bu Eun-seol had no choice but to follow behind Dam-jeung.
After walking down a long, dark passage for some time, a bright light appeared in the distance.
The place they finally arrived at presented a scene like a miniature version of the Shaolin Temple grounds.
‘So it’s not the Bloody Shaolin, but the Grotto Shaolin.’
The headquarters of the Bloody Shaolin was secretly nestled deep beneath the grounds of the main Shaolin Temple.
But contrary to what was known, the scenery of the Bloody Shaolin was no different from any other temple.
They too chanted scriptures and practiced meditation like Shaolin disciples. There were also separate areas for martial arts training, similar to the Thirty-Six Chambers of Shaolin.
Dam-jeung saw Bu Eun-seol’s surprised expression and scoffed.
“What, did you think the disciples of the Bloody Shaolin spend their days seeing blood or practicing strange martial arts all day long?”
“Am I wrong?”
“Of course.”
Dam-jeung pointed to the interior of the Bloody Shaolin with a proud expression.
“These are all disciples of Shaolin as well. In fact, to learn the martial arts of the Bloody Shaolin, one must maintain a mindset and conduct far superior to that of ordinary disciples.”
He then said proudly.
“One cannot enter the Bloody Shaolin without innate goodness and a righteous, just character. The same goes for those without outstanding martial talent. These are all disciples carefully selected from among the best of Shaolin.”
Bu Eun-seol said with a dry laugh.
“In that case, you could even select the Head of the Arhat Hall, the Head of the Scripture Pavilion, or even the Abbot from here.”
“Hoo hoo hoo. You didn’t know?”
Dam-jeung smiled coldly.
“Most of those who hold key positions in our temple, including the Head of the Scripture Pavilion, Gonggong, are from the Bloody Shaolin. It’s just that after a certain period, they decide whether to remain as a monk of the Bloody Shaolin or return to being a disciple of the main temple.”
This was a very surprising fact.
He had thought it was a crazed group of Shaolin’s eccentrics.
In reality, the most outstanding disciples of Shaolin were required to enter the Bloody Shaolin.
And there, they chose between the path of light and the path of shadow.
“Stop gawking and follow me.”
Dam-jeung led Bu Eun-seol to a small Zen room at the far end of the Bloody Shaolin.
The Zen room was empty, and its walls and ceiling were coated with a special paint.
Because of this, no matter how loudly one spoke inside, the sound would not leak out.
“To be honest, I do not trust those of the demonic path.”
Once seated, Dam-jeung shed his playful demeanor.
“Demonic practitioners often pretend to walk the middle path when they are young, but as they age, they often change into individuals who covet hegemony and power.”
Bu Eun-seol nodded.
Indeed, to rise quickly in the demonic path, it was best to maintain a neutral stance.
Pursuing hegemony made it difficult to gain popularity beyond one’s loyal subordinates.
But by maintaining a neutral stance, one could build broad connections with figures from both the orthodox and unorthodox factions and gain diverse support.
That was why demonic practitioners often maintained a neutral stance when young and converted to hegemony as they grew older.
“But the reason I am telling you this is because you are a completely insane, mad individual.”
“Is there a rule in the Bloody Shaolin to give special treatment to madmen?”
“Not at all.”
Dam-jeung scoffed and said.
“A truly mad person does not compromise with power. All they desire is to achieve their goal.”
“A plausible theory.”
Bu Eun-seol gave a faint nod.
“Now, speak.”
He then said with a grave expression.
“Tell me everything you know about the Seven-Fingered Demon Blade.”
From the moment he learned that the shadow of the Seven-Fingered Demon Blade was the Nameless Old Man, Bu Eun-seol realized that his grandfather, Bu Jan-yang, was the Seven-Fingered Demon Blade.
The problem was, he could not fathom how a disciple of Shaolin had become a demonic blade master.
“I’ll tell you beforehand, I don’t know the identity of the Seven-Fingered Demon Blade. I can only predict that he is one of them.”
“One of them?”
“That’s right.”
Dam-jeung’s gaze grew incredibly heavy.
“The story I am about to tell is unknown even to the Abbot of our temple, no, even to the highest figures of the orthodox martial world. If this were to be leaked outside…”
“Don’t worry.”
Understanding Dam-jeung’s meaning, Bu Eun-seol quickly cut him off.
He then said with an utmost serious expression.
“I swear on my life.”
“Hooo.”
After a deep sigh, Dam-jeung stared into the air for a moment, then slowly spoke.
“There were individuals thought to be the Seven-Fingered Demon Blade who trained their martial arts in the Bloody Shaolin. It’s possible that the ones who survived became the real Seven-Fingered Demon Blade.”
“Individuals?”
“Yes.”
Dam-jeung spoke in a low voice, as if recalling a distant memory.
“It was called the Absolute Demonic Blade Plan.”