Chapter 312: Heonwon (7)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 312: Heonwon (7)
"Argh! Aaagh!"
A sudden commotion shattered the silence of the snow-covered forest. Jeon Baek, who had been sent tumbling through the snow in an instant, let out a distant groan.
It sounded like his severed shoulder had slammed hard against the frozen earth.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyelids fluttered open.
His sense of Qi had shrunk significantly. The internal injuries inflicted by the sorcery of the Male-Female Divine Whip and the Internal Heavy Hand Technique had dulled his senses, delaying his detection of the distant surge of internal power.
Even when he finally sensed the blow hurtling toward Jeon Baek, he hadn't felt particularly inclined to block it.
He was simply glad for this unexpected encounter. Perhaps entering the Desolate Fortress had finally taught him the meaning of loneliness.
‘Yu-hyeon...?’
Beyond the snow-dusted bushes surrounding their campsite, he could see the faint shape of plum blossoms swirling within the fist wind that had struck Jeon Baek.
It carried an incredibly familiar quality. The Plum Blossom Fist and the Purple Mist Divine Art—the lofty essence of the Nine Sects' martial arts.
Had he fully digested the Purple Grace Pill that Jeong Yeon-shin had melted down for him so long ago?
The force released by Yu-hyeon, the Hidden Dragon of Mount Hua, was incomparable to before.
Though it still fell short of Shaolin's secret technique, the Hundred-Step Divine Fist, the power of a fist wind striking from such a distance was more than enough to send Jeon Baek flying.
His friend was clearly moving forward, even if only in short strides. He was steadily walking the long martial path of the Nine Sects—a path that Jeong Yeon-shin, by his very nature, could hardly climb.
‘Did they say it was a Shaolin spirit beast?’
He clearly heard a voice that was long familiar to his ears. It seemed they had tracked Jeon Baek and Gun Yurin all the way here.
"What bastard dares?!"
As Gun Yurin sprang up, drawing the great blade from her back with a sharp clack, Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes swept the surroundings. There had to be an unfamiliar animal nearby.
Beasts possessing spirituality were exceptionally rare. They were animals raised and nurtured into intelligence through the secret arts of the Brightfolk.
Most of them mastered divine arts related to tracking, though each spirit beast was said to possess distinct abilities.
‘Ah, there it is.’
Perched on a snow-white branch to one side was a squirrel. It looked down at Jeong Yeon-shin, its soft brown cheeks puffed up enormously.
Its eyes shimmered with a distinct light. Even at a glance, it was entirely different from ordinary beasts; a sparkling intelligence shone within its gaze.
"Come here."
When he held out his hand, the squirrel's eyes went round.
The tiny creature tilted its head rapidly from side to side, studying Jeong Yeon-shin, before hopping onto his palm and sniffing him with its tiny nose.
The sensation of its claws, sharp yet delicate like thick needles, pressed softly against his palm.
Just as a faint smile touched Jeong Yeon-shin's lips—
Boom!
A roar echoed from beyond the bushes. A sudden gale swept through.
Whoosh—
It seemed Gun Yurin had swung her blade. Judging by the solid shockwave that followed, Yu-hyeon had managed to block it. Gun Yurin's harsh voice rang out.
"You worthless bastard! How dare you strike at us! Has this young Taoist lost his mind and decided he wants to become a corpse?!"
"I tracked a one-armed martial artist pretending to be a scholar! I heard he stole beef from the village below! Shaolin's Galhon caught the scent instantly!"
"What?"
"Did you think there would be no consequences? If you play at banditry with mediocre martial arts and run into a righteous hero, you're bound to die a dog's death! Today will be the anniversary of your death, you heterodox scum!"
"Beef? When?"
"Don't play dumb. Judging by your martial prowess, appearance, and behavior, you are clearly that bastard's master. Standing before you now is a Taoist of the Mount Hua Sect, and as for this monk here, he is one of Mount Song Shaolin's Four Great—"
"I've only eaten wild beasts! Hey, Jeon Baek!"
"The Heretical Cultivator Jeon Baek? You bastards are from the Deep Martial Alliance! I knew it...!"
"I—I just needed to recuperate, My Lady! With an external injury of this scale, I had to eat well so my acupoints wouldn't be damaged...!"
"You crazy bastard! You said you were going to the outhouse, and you stole beef behind your master's back? Have you forgotten that I spouted flattery I never would have used in my life just to save you? My heart nearly stopped the moment I saw Sword Control, and yet my own subordinate...!"
"My Lady? You're Gun Yurin of the Phoenix-Slaying Red Blade, aren't you? You'll make a fine touchstone for my Plum Blossom Sword. Come at me."
"You arrogant brat! Do you think you're the Lotus Nezha or something?"
Rustle.
What a mess. Jeong Yeon-shin, who had been gently stroking the squirrel's cheek with his index finger, turned around.
If Yu-hyeon were to suffer even a single scratch from Gun Yurin, Jeong Yeon-shin would have no face to show either himself or the Mount Hua Sect Leader.
Just then.
"Amitabha."
The voice echoed right beside him.
A wave of energy spreading from the low Buddhist chant brushed past Jeong Yeon-shin's shoulder.
It felt incredibly refreshing yet solid, immediately bringing to mind a quiet hermitage and the rhythmic strike of a wooden temple block.
"A strange companionship. You do not seem to be of the Heterodox Sects, Benefactor. What is it you seek from those who hold the lives of the common people so lightly?"
It was an incredibly pleasant voice. If the low, resonant sound of a bamboo flute could transform into a human voice, it would sound exactly like this.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly turned his head.
Elegantly sharp ears came into view first, followed by a cleanly shaved head.
A pure, clear air emanated from the dark orange Buddhist robes wrapping his entire body.
A Brightfolk monk.
There wasn't a single wrinkle on his profile, yet he did not look young, either. Standing there with a long staff planted firmly on the ground, he looked like a divine general descended from the heavens.
‘He reached this spot in a single step. Crossing through space itself.’
It was said in the Jianghu that there were four supreme movement techniques that could contend above the clouds.
The Kunlun Sect's Eight Cloud Dragon Forms, now lost with the sect's destruction.
The Blood Flame Cult's Graceful Body Technique.
The Thirteen Heavens Golden Wing Sect's Dragon Slaying Scale-Treading Movement Technique.
And the Vajra Immovable Body Art, passed down through the Shaolin Temple.
The word "immovable" was attached to this movement technique for a reason. It signified the ultimate state of stillness within motion. Without displaying any outward movement at all, he had suddenly appeared right beside Jeong Yeon-shin.
This was impossible unless the subtle principles of his movement technique rivaled outright sorcery.
It was lofty, profound, and extremely threatening.
‘Who is this from Shaolin?’
Jeong Yeon-shin wondered. He couldn't help but wonder how he would have perceived this monk's approach if his sense of Qi had been fully intact.
"Perhaps the one this poor monk is searching for is you, Benefactor."
The monk did not look at him. He simply stared blankly ahead as he slowly continued.
"That Galhon is not even friendly with the young novices at the temple, yet it seems a temperament similar to the Brightfolk flows within you. If the children saw this, they might be jealous. This is quite meaningful to this poor monk's clan."
The squirrel sitting on Jeong Yeon-shin's hand twitched its mouth. Its cheek pouches seemed stuffed full of something like acorns.
Taking his index finger off the Galhon's cheek, Jeong Yeon-shin's hand lowered to his waist and twitched slightly.
The sense of unity radiating from the monk beside him was immense. Even his damaged sense of Qi was ringing alarm bells; at a glance, this was a supreme master of the Three Flowers Gathering at the Peak, one who had thoroughly mastered the divine arts of the thousand-year-old Shaolin.
Even though he felt no hostility, it was impossible to let down his guard.
"I am called Wonjeok. I have long forgotten my secular name," the monk said.
Jeong Yeon-shin was deeply shocked inwardly.
‘So this is the monk who is said to have meditated facing a wall for a hundred years.’
It was a monstrous Buddhist name. He was widely known for his terrifying martial prowess.
One of the Shaolin Four Great Vajras.
This meant he was among the top five experts even within the sect hailed as the strongest among the Nine Sects.
Clearly ranking above the Eighteen Arhats, he was also known as Great Monk Wonjeok, a figure widely respected throughout the world.
He had guarded the temple for a long time in Shaolin, where the strict limits of generational hierarchy had faded since the founding of the Ming Dynasty.
Wonjeok of the Four Great Vajras was a figure who had played a major role in Shaolin's recent renown, famous for his hundred-year wall-facing meditation.
"May I ask your identity, Benefactor... Ah, the surroundings are rather noisy."
Suddenly, Wonjeok opened his mouth wide.
And bellowed.
"Halt!"
In an instant, a powerful wave of energy exploded outward, and the bushes ahead all bent backward at once. It was as if a sudden storm had descended.
As the air vibrated violently in all directions, the two figures beyond the bushes were revealed, thrown back in opposite directions. They had ceased their clash the very moment they heard the shout.
Though not one of the Shaolin 72 Arts, it was a supreme technique that served as one of Shaolin's greatest symbols.
The Buddhist Lion's Roar.
* * *
Disputes in the Jianghu were usually settled by the fists of the strong.
Gun Yurin, who had been lunging at Yu-hyeon with lethal intent just moments prior, had quieted down. Sitting somewhat close to Jeong Yeon-shin, she glared alternately at Wonjeok, Yu-hyeon, and Jeon Baek across the crackling campfire.
She sat with her legs pulled slightly toward her chest, her forearms resting casually on her knees in a bold posture. Despite her relaxed appearance, she looked ready to spring up at a moment's notice.
Jeon Baek, with his refined scholar's face, looked aggrieved.
"Why me?"
"Shut up, you disloyal bastard."
Meanwhile, Jeong Yeon-shin was making eye contact with the young Taoist clad in white robes.
Having lost some of the baby fat on his cheeks, the pink plum blossom embroidery on his hem suited him even better now. The voice carried through his telepathy was also far more dignified than before.
—...I was really shocked. To think you'd pop out from there. So, how have you been?
—I've been fine. You were the one who popped out of nowhere. Anyway, how is Lady Yul-ha?
—Master? Well, she's recovered a lot. I had a hard time stopping her from going out to take the head of the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect. She said she came up with a new form for the Plum Blossom Sword Art. At any rate, it's a stroke of luck that our paths crossed. I stopped by the Gongya Clan to track you down. I wanted to let Galhon catch your scent. We came this way right after, and that's when we heard about the beef thief.
—Scent?
The Galhon.
Before he knew it, the squirrel had climbed onto the shoulder of Wonjeok, who now sat with his eyes closed.
It was said to be a spirit beast raised by Shaolin.
While it helped locate commoners kidnapped by Jianghu martial artists, it was also a grim reaper that would pursue apostate monks to the very gates of the underworld to sever the meridians in their limbs and destroy their Dantians.
—Fortunately, the Gongya siblings handed over some of your belongings. A torn piece of clothing and a fragment of your sword. Both of them had kept them enshrined in some wooden box like absolute treasures. Come to think of it, that young master of the Gongson Clan apparently kept a sword you used as a decorative ornament in his room. At this point, aren't you treated more like a spirit beast than a human?
—Nonsense...
—Anyway, your reputation lately has been unbelievable. Oh, right! How did you kill the Jegal Clan Leader? Is it really true that you beat him to death? What on earth is your martial progress...!
At that moment, the ear of Wonjeok, who was sitting cross-legged on the snowy ground, twitched ever so slightly.
The telepathic conversation between the two friends continued regardless.
—Cut the nonsense.
—I knew you'd be indifferent. Even after causing an event that has begun to shake the entire Jianghu... Anyway, you said you're hiding your identity, right? Are you sure she doesn't know who you are? I hope I didn't ruin things by making a fuss the moment I saw you.
Just as Yu-hyeon discreetly gestured toward Gun Yurin with his eyes, she suddenly snorted. It was an exaggerated gesture, forceful enough to make the hair near her ears flutter.
"What are you whispering about through telepathy, you half-grown Taoist brat?"
"Is it something to boast about, being fully grown yet only matching this Perfected Yu-hyeon? If not for that friend's companion, my sword would have already painted plum blossoms with your blood."
"Matching? If not for that Shaolin monk, a wretch like you would have...!"
She glanced at Wonjeok, then peeked at Jeong Yeon-shin, her fingertips trembling minutely. A true dilemma. The dark red light of the campfire flickered over the back of her hand.
While their banter-like conversation took place amidst the crackling sparks, the late winter air surrounding them remained strangely chilly.
An incredibly ambiguous and sudden gathering.
Such was the heavy atmosphere of the campsite. Martial artists of the Thirteen Heavens and the Nine Sects were gathered in one place.
If not for Jeong Yeon-shin, whom Gun Yurin had to accompany until she found the Killing Gate, disaster would have struck long ago.
"Benefactor."
Wonjeok, who had suddenly opened his eyes, spoke.
The ordination scars on his forehead—two rows of three—grew noticeably redder. Internal power was rising within his body.
A strange pressure emanated from him. It was heavy enough to make the warmth of the campfire suddenly feel chilling.
—What is it you seek from those who hold the lives of the common people so lightly?
It was what he had asked earlier.
Shaolin's benevolence mostly extended to the common folk.
Slogans like "Expelling Demons and Eradicating Evil" and "Crushing Evil and Revealing the Truth" were phrases that proved the Orthodox Factions' absolute mercilessness toward the Heterodox Sects.
The blade of the Orthodox martial artists was incredibly sharp. They showed no mercy to their enemies.
Shaolin was the same. Though they loathed accumulating bad karma through killing, their fists, kicks, and staffs possessed subtlety, purity, and a tyrannical nature that formed the very foundation of Jianghu martial arts.
They would break the limbs of heterodox scum with ease.
Indeed, those who did not know of the Four Great Vajras were exceptionally rare across the vast world. Time, martial prowess, and reputation had made it so.
"Would you be willing to exchange a few blows with this poor monk? It will only take a moment."
"...!"
Yu-hyeon, Gun Yurin, and Jeon Baek all showed visible signs of shock.
One of the Shaolin Four Great Vajras had just requested a duel. It was a matter so grave that they had to carefully ponder the context in which it was proposed.
* * *
Wonjeok could hear the telepathy of others.
The moment his wall-facing meditation reached seventy years, he felt his ears open to the world. The Shaolin Abbot had called this the beginning of the Six Supernatural Powers.
He said it was an extreme path of the senses primarily granted to Brightfolk monks.
But it held no special meaning to Wonjeok.
Over a hundred and several decades ago, Wonjeok had lost his family to a branch of the Ming Cult and entered the priesthood.
Even on the day he first stepped onto Mount Song, and on the day his head was shaved and his ordination scars were branded into his flesh, the faces of his parents screaming amidst black flames still flickered before his eyes.
It was the Samadhi True Fire of the Ming Cult Leader, the Heavenly Demon, who appeared in every era.
It was a power difficult to counter with mere senses.
To oppose demonic energy and sorcery, a fundamental technique of absolute opposition was required. However, the martial monks of Shaolin had long struggled to restore the Avalokiteshvara Azure Steel Hand, an art that possessed true Dharma Power.
It was an art whose lineage had been severed so long ago that even finding its secret manual within the Sutra Library was difficult.
Furthermore, the Shaolin Abbot did not like attempting to reconstruct lost martial arts from scratch. He simply told Wonjeok to master the martial arts already present in the temple.
—“I will go find the Commander of the Demonlight Wing...” Yes, I knew you would say that as soon as you left seclusion. However, I cannot send you alone... The problem is that there are no disciples who would willingly follow you. Everyone would be terrified if asked to attend to you. Why didn't you cultivate a gentler heart?
—What is wrong with expecting a martial monk to have the discipline of a martial monk? It is fine for me to travel alone.
—It might be fine for you, but it is not fine for Shaolin. What kind of refinement and worldly cultivation would a monk who has done nothing but stare at a wall for a hundred years possess? This old monk is deeply worried.
He had let it go in one ear and out the other. Wonjeok was used to the Abbot's empty chanting.
Listening to the telepathic conversation between the Mount Hua disciple Yu-hyeon and the boy before him, he confirmed that the one facing him now was indeed the Commander of the Demonlight Wing of the Desolate Fortress.
The boy kept both hands lowered quietly.
Even though his starting stance was close to a natural, relaxed state, it was utterly perfect. A glimpse of martial talent that would make anyone in Shaolin marvel was clearly visible.
‘However.’
He was one who freely associated with the Heterodox Sects for his own purposes.
That should not be. If the Commander of the Demonlight Wing truly possessed Dharma Power, he had to display conduct worthy of that sacred power.
This distant junior needed guidance. Though Wonjeok did not know with what mindset the boy had accepted the duel.
‘I must approach this as a senior of the Jianghu.’
It was just as he was preparing the Hundred-Step Divine Fist with that thought in mind.
Suddenly, a strange energy flowed from Flash Art's body. He had released the internal power he had kept so tightly concealed.
Wonjeok furrowed his brow. He sought to calm his mind with the Dharma Power that even a hundred years of wall-facing meditation had failed to obtain for him.
The master of such divine energy must surely fulfill his Heavenly Mandate. Guidance came first.
However.
Sssss—
The energy that filled the forest with a translucent white light and brushed mystically against his skin was...
So.
So incredibly auspicious.
The slowly spreading wave of internal power delivered an ultimate sense of refreshment to his entire body. This feeling was practically akin to paradise.
It was to the point where even the Abbot's Supreme Great Ability felt like a technique that was merely needlessly powerful in comparison.
"Heheh, heheheh."
The corners of Wonjeok's mouth began to twitch, inevitably loosening into a wide grin.