Defrocked Monk (1)
There were many prodigies in the martial world, but if one had to name the strongest and most promising young talent from the orthodox sects, it would undoubtedly be this man.
Little Divine Monk Jeong Myeong.
Born an orphan at the lowest rung of society, he possessed exceptional martial talent. More than that, his upright and impartial character allowed him to uphold the middle path without bias.
He was hailed as the next greatest of the orthodox factions or even the future abbot of Shaolin.
'At first, it was just a faint doubt.'
As an orphan, upon entering Shaolin, he began his foundational training at the Buloe Hall.
There, he learned various Buddhist teachings alongside Shaolin's basic martial arts.
The one who first instructed him was none other than Jonghun, the Hall Master of Buloe Hall and wielder of the Hongbulgeom.
One day, Jonghun was found dead under mysterious circumstances. Later rumors revealed:
"Turns out the Demon Sword Young Master Hyeon Yucheon got his revenge?"
"Yeah. Hongbulgeom wiped out Hyeon Yucheon's clan, the Mangeum Clan, alongside Murim Alliance forces and slaughtered his parents."
The rumors spread like wildfire, stark and unfiltered.
Of course, Shaolin denied it, but Jeong Myeong—ever the just and fair man—grew curious.
"Why doesn't Shaolin apologize to the Demon Sword Sect?"
If you've done wrong, you should atone. Even a child like him knew that much, yet Shaolin's higher-ups denied it or stayed silent.
The response to Jeong Myeong's question was always the same.
"If you're a disciple of Shaolin, keep quiet."
From that moment, doubts sprouted wildly in the Little Divine Monk Jeong Myeong's heart.
Eventually:
"The Heaven's Five Venerables ambushed the Demon Sword Ghost Elder Cheon Baeksang out of greed for his Formless Flash Quick Sword."
"All five took part, and some fell to the blade of vengeance."
When the misdeeds of Cheollim Seonsa—Jeong Myeong's master and steadfast pillar, the Fist Buddha—were laid bare, he could bear it no longer.
To resolve his turmoil and find peace, he offered countless prayers and prostrated 108 times at every meal, but tranquility eluded him.
Then one day:
"Master... is it true? Is it really true?"
Unable to endure, Jeong Myeong sought out Cheollim Seonsa, the abbot of Shaolin and his master.
"......"
Cheollim Seonsa, fully aware of Jeong Myeong's anguish, stared at him intently.
After some time passed:
"He... was an enemy of our Shaolin and a public foe of the orthodox martial world."
The petty, shabby excuse fell far short of Jeong Myeong's expectations, filling him with disappointment.
"Even so, ambushing him with five men while exploiting a traitor's betrayal? That's not right!"
"......To eradicate a single great evil requires the combined might of countless righteous warriors. Do you still not understand?"
"Then why did you covet that wicked villain's martial arts?"
Jeong Myeong's sharp retort left Cheollim Seonsa speechless.
In the end, he had only one recourse.
"Are you now siding with that villain?!"
"I'm not taking sides... I'm speaking of the true path."
"You insolent wretch! We martial monks of Shaolin, who tread the world, must sometimes endure contradictions and break the precept of no killing to destroy evil."
"Even so......"
Jeong Myeong left that place with profound disillusionment.
No words from him now could sway or enlighten Cheollim Seonsa.
Paradoxically, in Jeong Myeong's eyes, the master he had revered and followed his entire life now resembled a scheming demon from the abyss.
"Did you come all this way for such trivial matters? Instead of fretting, train your Shaolin arts harder. Do you not know how highly the eminent monks of the Geumgangjeon regard you?"
"......"
Jeong Myeong returned to his quarters.
Afterward, his body rested, but his mind remained unrested.
With mind and body out of harmony, his martial progress stalled, and his worries grew heavier.
Honestly, Jeong Myeong lacked the confidence to change his master, the Four Guardian Kings, or the Eighteen Arhats single-handedly.
So, what was the answer?
"Master, I will leave Shaolin."
He sought Cheollim once more and declared it.
"You mad fool!"
"I've thought it over, and this can't be right. If we've committed grave wrongs in the past, we should contact the Demon Sword Sect and its lord to atone."
"A demon has possessed your mind!"
Cheollim, who rarely raised his voice, erupted in fury.
"I won't abandon all of Shaolin. If apologizing is too burdensome, I will go and atone myself."
Cheollim couldn't comprehend his sole disciple.
'This child, raised so rightly without once defying me—why has he turned like this?'
No answer came, no matter how he pondered.
Even the renowned Fist Buddha Cheollim, abbot of Shaolin, struggled to handle his disciple.
"This won't do. I declare three years of wall-facing meditation in the Chamhoe Cave as punishment."
He saw no other way.
'The Chamhoe Cave has many chambers.'
From cells for demonic fiends to those for errant monks of Shaolin.
Confining him near the entrance for training, he believed, would dispel the heart demon plaguing him.
"The Four Guardian Kings will escort you. Prepare to enter tomorrow!"
Faced with three years in the Chamhoe Cave, Jeong Myeong gazed at the benevolent statue behind his master and murmured.
"Amitabha."
In this Shaolin, there were monks, but no Buddha.
If the temple is corrupt, the monk departs.
"This can't be......"
Devastated by the Chamhoe Cave punishment, Jeong Myeong wandered Shaolin's grounds, his mind in chaos.
"The Demon Sword Young Master Hyeon Yucheon is in Henan Province?"
"More precisely, he passed through Sichuan, stayed briefly in Henan, and is heading to Hebei."
Overhearing pilgrims offering prayers, Jeong Myeong's eyes lit up.
"He rested one night at an inn in Henan—close to Shaolin."
"Indeed. What is Cheollim Seonsa doing? Why not capture that unorthodox villain?"
"Come now, the Fist Buddha must have profound reasons."
Jeong Myeong resolved himself.
No need to hesitate further.
'This is my last chance!'
Reflecting, he'd heard much of the Demon Sword Sect and Hyeon Yucheon but never met them.
What words did he speak? What thoughts did he hold?
"Forgive me, Master. I go to seek the true path."
The day before entering Chamhoe Cave, Jeong Myeong left the note and fled Shaolin.
He boldly abandoned it to meet the Demon Sword Sect Lord Hyeon Yucheon.
The next day, the Four Guardian Kings arrived at his quarters—only to find him gone.
Sensing ill omens, they searched and found the note.
Its content was starkly simple.
If the temple is corrupt, the monk departs.
"This can't be!"
"No way......?"
"Report to the Seonsa at once!"
The Four Guardian Kings rushed to Cheollim Seonsa in uproar.
"That wretch has finally caused trouble!"
He trembled with raw betrayal.
'The sapling I poured my all into in my later years, destined to be a pillar of the orthodox world.'
Yet a strange wind had driven him mad, or so he thought.
"Departing Shaolin without master's or abbot's command, and seeking the demonic lord of an unorthodox sect—these are grave crimes."
After deep deliberation, Cheollim sighed.
"Hrm. I hereby defrock Jeong Myeong, Shaolin's prime disciple. Four Guardian Kings and Eighteen Arhats—hunt the defrocked one and cast him eternally into the Chamhoe Cave with the wicked demons!"
With a heart like weeping over Ma Su, he defrocked his sole prized disciple.
It pained him, but there was no choice.
'If one of ours follows the Demon Sword Sect and its lord, aligning with his ideology, it could shake the millennium foundation of Shaolin.'
Jeong Myeong's brilliance and talent were heartbreakingly precious, his bond like father and son, but Cheollim remained resolute.
Nothing outweighed Shaolin's thousand-year legacy.
"Understood!"
Knowing his pain all too well, the Four Guardian Kings and Eighteen Arhats descended Song Mountain without protest.
It was exceedingly rare for both elite units to mobilize fully.
"Jeong Myeong has likely gone to the inn where Demon Sword Sect Lord Hyeon Yucheon is."
Cheolgyun, leader of the Four Guardian Kings and second only to Cheollim Seonsa in prowess—the Great Power Buddha—bellowed.
"We secure and arrest him before he meets that wicked outsider."
All shouted in unison.
"Understood!"
Could they catch Jeong Myeong before he met Hyeon Yucheon?
"It's Henan Province."
"Near Shaolin, too."
Hyeon Yucheon had first escorted Gong Jin back to the Demon Sword Merchant Association in Shaanxi, then arrived at a shabby inn in Henan with Ga Jinuk, Eum Ji-myeong, and So Jaun.
His two senior brothers were enjoying a rare rest, gazing at distant Song Mountain.
"Speaking of which, I've been considering Fist Buddha Cheollim Seonsa as our next revenge target."
Hyeon Yucheon voiced it eagerly.
"Shouldn't we save Shaolin for last?"
So Jaun offered rare dissent.
"Why?"
"Shaolin has the Four Guardian Kings, Eighteen Arhats, and the 108 Leper Hand Martial Monks. That's enough to topple a major sect."
She was right.
Shaolin's true terror lay not in a single powerhouse like other Nine Great Sects, but in its legions.
The Four Guardian Kings united could pin even a Heaven's Five Venerable; the same for the Eighteen Arhats.
"True, that's why I'm here pondering. Build our strength slowly before striking Shaolin, or......"
Just then—
Clang!
In the dead of night, at an inn frequented by Haomen affiliates—few patrons, no uninvited guests—someone burst in unannounced.
More shocking: it was a Shaolin monk, who moments ago had been chatting lively.
'A Shaolin monk?'
'Younger and stronger than expected.'
'Why alone?'
Hyeon Yucheon and his group eyed the lone warrior who kicked open the door—the Little Divine Monk Jeong Myeong—with keen curiosity.
"Huff... huff!"
Why had this young martial monk raced here, gasping for breath?
How had he reached this inn, far from Song Mountain?
As questions swirled, Jeong Myeong finally spoke.
"I heard... the Demon Sword Young Master Hyeon Yucheon, lord of the sect, is here. Does anyone know him?"