Chapter 129
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 129
Chapter Title: Blood Shaolin
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A wide clearing a short distance from the guest inn.
Seol Hwa-un and Hong Guang faced each other three zhang apart.
“…….”
The day was already growing dim, but it meant little to these two experts.
Hong Guang cupped his hands toward him.
“Amitabha. Then I’ll be in your care, Layman Seol.”
“I’ll yield the first move, so come at me whenever you’re ready.”
“……Thank you.”
Hong Guang felt a subtle surge of anger.
He already knew Seol Hwa-un was a superior expert, but this was still a junior ten years his junior.
It was only natural for his pride to sting.
‘I’ll wipe that relaxed look off your face.’
Hong Guang took a large step forward.
Pa-pat!
Seol Hwa-un’s eyes gleamed as he saw him charging with empty hands.
‘Not using the staff?’
Hong Guang was a Shaolin disciple. He would naturally be proficient in fist arts as well.
Shuuk!
Closing the distance, he thrust out his fist as expected.
It was a fist strike whose path constantly shifted, making it hard to predict.
‘Is this the Arhat Divine Fist?’
The Arhat Divine Fist was a fist art learned before the Shaolin essence, the Hundred Paces Divine Fist, and was excellent in its own right.
“…….”
Seol Hwa-un, who had been watching calmly, shot out his fist like lightning.
Ppak!
A heavy thud echoed as their fists collided. Hong Guang’s expression twisted slightly from the pain.
‘Kuhk!’
He was inwardly shocked.
‘I heard his strength lay in swift and heavy fists, but this speed…’
This nullified the unpredictable changes of the Arhat Divine Fist.
He would crush it with speed before the path could shift, just like now.
‘Then how about this?’
Hong Guang immediately switched fist arts.
Woo-woong!
A weighty fist extended forward. It was the Great Red Fist, Shaolin’s representative heavy fist.
“…….”
In response, Seol Hwa-un thrust out his fist once more. It was a light, crisp strike like before.
Kwa-ang!
Surprisingly, it was Hong Guang who slid back, unable to withstand the impact.
“……!”
Only then did he realize his mistake.
‘I see. Layman Seol has already transcended classifications like swift or heavy fists.’
Hong Guang was genuinely impressed.
‘His fist art has already reached a profound realm!’
Seol Hwa-un gazed at him steadily and spoke.
“Why not try fighting properly now?”
Hong Guang gave a wry smile.
“……I understand.”
He drew the Prajna Blood Rod from his back.
“I’ll get serious from now on, so stay sharp, Layman Seol.”
Seol Hwa-un smiled leisurely.
“Come.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than Hong Guang thrust the Prajna Blood Rod.
Shuaaak!
“……!”
A light flashed in Seol Hwa-un’s eyes.
‘From this distance?’
Even with the staff’s long reach, thrusting at full extension shouldn’t reach.
Hong Guang gripped the end and extended it fully, yet there was still a considerable gap to Seol Hwa-un.
At that moment.
Paaa!
Intense energy burst from the tip of the Prajna Blood Rod. It was staff qi.
“……!”
For an expert like Hong Guang to emit staff qi was only natural.
But Seol Hwa-un was surprised because there had been no sign of it even as he swung the staff—it had suddenly erupted.
To use a sword as an example, one usually coats it with qi while swinging to shoot sword qi, but Hong Guang had skipped that process entirely.
‘Incredible precision in qi control!’
A normal person would have panicked, but Seol Hwa-un was different.
He immediately thrust his fist.
Kwang!
The fist strike clashed with the staff qi, producing a explosive sound. But Hong Guang’s attack didn’t end there.
Shushu-shushu!
The Prajna Blood Rod generated countless staff shadows, sweeping toward Seol Hwa-un.
‘This must be the Dragon Flower Twelve Staffs!’
It was Shaolin’s representative staff art and Hong Guang’s signature technique.
Seol Hwa-un could have shattered all the staff shadows with a powerful strike, but he chose otherwise.
‘Shall I observe for a bit?’
He swiftly retreated, escaping the staff’s range.
Seeing this, Hong Guang’s eyes gleamed.
‘You’ve made a mistake, Layman Seol.’
He quickly advanced, closing the distance with Seol Hwa-un.
Pa-pa-pa-pa!
At the same time, the number of staff shadows doubled.
“……!”
Seol Hwa-un felt as if he were facing a massive wall of staffs.
‘An astonishing staff art!’
By pulling back, he had given Hong Guang the perfect space to unleash his technique.
‘Impressive.’
Even from this distance, the pressure was immense.
The corner of Seol Hwa-un’s mouth lifted.
‘Good. Now it’ll be satisfying to smash.’
Seol Hwa-un pondered briefly.
‘Shall I try that one?’
He clenched his right fist tightly.
Tsu-tsu-tsu!
Ice White Divine Art energy gathered in his hand, soon compressing solidly.
Guuuk!
‘This should do.’
Seol Hwa-un released the compressed energy all at once. In that instant, his fist shot forward like a bullet.
Too-hwa-aak!
Puuuuk!
A massive hole was punched through the wall of staff shadows.
“……!”
But Seol Hwa-un’s fist strike didn’t stop. It continued toward the now-defenseless Hong Guang.
Kwaaaaang!
“Kuhk!”
With a massive explosion, Hong Guang was sent flying back from the tremendous impact.
Seol Hwa-un made an oops expression.
“……Did I overdo it?”
Hong Guang, embedded in the ground, rose surprisingly quickly. But his fierce fighting spirit had vanished like a lie.
“Ungh, impressive as expected. This little monk admits defeat.”
Seol Hwa-un approached and bowed his head.
“My apologies, Monk Hong Guang. I went too far with my strength.”
“Hahaha. I-it’s fine!”
Hong Guang laughed heartily, but he was a mess.
His upper garments had burst from the impact, and his body was covered in large and small bruises from tumbling from Seol Hwa-un’s punch.
If not for his deep external art cultivation, it would have been a serious injury for anyone else.
“By the way, that final fist was truly astonishing. What on earth was it?”
His question was natural.
He had gathered considerable information on Seol Hwa-un’s martial arts, but this was new.
Seol Hwa-un smiled faintly.
“It’s nothing special. Just an incomplete fist art I created recently from some insights.”
“What! You’re already creating your own martial arts?”
“Not quite.”
The strike Seol Hwa-un used was called the White Thunder Cannon, a new technique using the Ice White Divine Art.
‘Truthfully, it’s still debatable to call it a fist art.’
Precisely, it converted the repulsive force of compressed Ice White Divine Art energy into elasticity, but it needed much refinement.
“…….”
Seol Hwa-un glanced down at his right hand.
The pale hand trembled faintly.
‘Hmm. Too taxing to use often.’
Hong Guang spoke.
“Amitabha. As expected, you’re not hailed as the North Heaven Dragon for nothing. To make me feel a wall despite never slacking in training even for a moment.”
“You flatter me.”
“Oh, right. Didn’t you say you had something to ask this little monk?”
Seol Hwa-un nodded.
“Indeed.”
“The match is over, so ask freely.”
Seol Hwa-un’s expression turned serious.
“Will you answer honestly?”
“Of course. I am a monk serving Buddha, after all. How could I lie after giving my word?”
“Then I’ll ask.”
“Hahaha, after all that buildup, what grand question could it be? This little monk knows little and has no secrets.”
‘Is that true?’
Seol Hwa-un’s eyes sharpened.
“Are you part of Blood Shaolin, Monk Hong Guang?”
“……!”
Hong Guang’s smiling face froze instantly.
“Layman Seol, what do you mean by that?”
Seol Hwa-un smiled thinly.
‘I see from your face.’
“I’ll take that as your answer.”
Hong Guang panicked.
“W-what do you mean? There must be some misunderstanding…”
“Don’t worry. I haven’t heard anything from you, Monk Hong Guang.”
Hong Guang’s face hardened again. He was at a loss.
‘How… does Layman Seol know of Blood Shaolin’s existence?’
Shaolin Temple was a mountain monastery serving Buddha, rooted in compassion and strictly forbidding killing.
Yet it was also one of the Nine Great Sects, a colossal martial faction towering like Mount Tai in the north.
Its presence in the martial world was immense, preventing blind adherence to Buddha’s teachings.
From this contradiction arose the secret organization Blood Shaolin.
Blood Shaolin pursued practical martial arts to save countless beings through killing.
But as time passed, Shaolin grew more martial in nature, rendering Blood Shaolin nominal.
Yet it persisted secretly in Shaolin even now.
Only the abbot knew of its existence in the temple.
Thus, Hong Guang, one of its inheritors, was understandably rattled.
‘I can’t silence him… Amitabha.’
Seol Hwa-un seemed to guess his thoughts.
“Don’t worry. No one else knows but me.”
“…….”
Hong Guang fell silent, unable to respond.
‘Interesting. Blood Shaolin still exists.’
In his previous life, Seol Hwa-un had been close to Shaolin and learned of Blood Shaolin by chance.
‘The Undying Divine Monk wasn’t from Blood Shaolin… How far has Blood Shaolin’s martial arts progressed after two hundred years?’
If Hong Guang was from Blood Shaolin, he surely hid deeper arts.
‘But they can only be used on villains.’
Traces of Blood Shaolin influence appeared subtly in Hong Guang’s martial arts.
He wanted to test them immediately, but Hong Guang, denying its existence, wouldn’t accept.
‘There’ll be another chance.’
* * *
The next day.
Having eaten breakfast early, Seol Hwa-un’s group promptly left the inn.
“…….”
Curiously, Hong Guang’s words had dwindled sharply in the meantime. Dong Ho-won and Eom Mu-hwi found it odd but couldn’t grasp the reason.
They only noticed from his occasional sighs at Seol Hwa-un’s back that something had happened between them.
Dong Ho-won sent a transmission to Eom Mu-hwi.
[Got utterly crushed by Young Palace Lord?]
[Probably. You got hurt too, didn’t you?]
[Yeah, figured. But surprising. Monk Hong Guang didn’t seem the type to get down over that.]
[What do you know from just watching?]
[It shows, doesn’t it.]
[Then you must’ve misread.]
[Tch.]
Thus, their peaceful journey continued, and three days after entering Anhui Province, Seol Hwa-un’s group finally arrived in Hefei.