Defrocked Monk (3)
“……!!”
Hyeon Yucheon’s single remark stunned not only the Shaolin warrior monks but even the Demon Sword Sect members.
No one had anticipated that he would claim the greatest prodigy of the righteous factions.
‘I thought he’d avoid getting involved with this little monk Jeong Myeong since it’s not yet time to strike Shaolin.’
Yet the situation had flipped completely.
“Have you ever seen such a mad bastard?”
“We are the Four Guardian Kings.”
“Outside, the Eighteen Arhats await as well.”
“Do you think you can handle Shaolin?”
The Four Guardian Kings bellowed in unison, their fury ignited.
Without needing a command, they surged toward Hyeon Yucheon with murderous intent.
“I might not take Shaolin alone, but I’m confident I can handle you four.”
Hyeon Yucheon gazed at them and smiled.
“The Eighteen Arhats will be handled by my esteemed senior brothers and the Haomen leader……”
There was one thing they didn’t know.
Hyeon Yucheon never fought battles he could lose.
“If anything, you lot should be the ones worrying.”
Only then, at Hyeon Yucheon’s leisurely words, did the Four Guardian Kings realize that the figures behind him weren’t ordinary Demon Sword Sect disciples—but Jin Gwangma Geom, Flash Light Flying Gentleman, and the Faceless Black Rabbit, leader of Haomen.
“How dare this vile fiend mock our Shaolin?!”
Among the Four Guardian Kings, the most hot-tempered—Blood Maitreya Cheolwon, who would slay any demonic cultist or unorthodox warrior on sight—charged forward.
He could no longer contain his choleric nature amid Hyeon Yucheon’s relentless provocations.
In truth, he had held back remarkably until now with Hyeon Yucheon right before him, but any more restraint might drive him to deviation into madness.
A ferocious fist technique unleashing purifying wrath.
Shaolin fist arts were often praised for their grandeur, vast reach, and status as the archetype of righteous faction martial prowess.
But Blood Maitreya Cheolwon’s specialty, the Evil-Exterminating Maitreya Fist, was different.
Unlike typical Shaolin fist and leg techniques, its origins were extraordinary: legend held that in Shaolin’s early days, a renowned warrior monk created it after losing a cherished disciple to a wicked demonic overlord.
Perhaps because of this, it brimmed with killing intent uncharacteristic of Shaolin arts and boasted devastating destructive power.
Fwaaaah!
Mental agitation harmed a martial artist’s mind and body, but the Evil-Exterminating Maitreya Fist thrived on exploding rage, turning it into an advantage.
Cheolwon rushed Hyeon Yucheon, scattering tremendous fist force in all directions.
“Gasp!”
Even Jeong Myeong, Shaolin’s once-in-a-generation prodigy, couldn’t hide his shock at the high-level assault, his mouth falling open.
He watched, expecting Hyeon Yucheon to fall to Blood Maitreya Cheolwon.
Of course, this was mere wishful thinking from those raised like flowers in Shaolin’s greenhouse, ignorant of harsh reality.
Peerless footwork flowing like gentle waters, evading all strikes.
Hyeon Yucheon deflected the lightning-fast ambush as smoothly as a river current.
The Demon Sword Prince Hyeon Yucheon was renowned for his Formless Flash Quick Sword, but his sublime footwork, Heavenly Dominion Step, was often underrated.
A single invisible flash that guarantees death.
Having effortlessly redirected the assault, nothing could halt the emergence of his Formless Flash Quick Sword.
Flash!
Since opening his upper dantian, Hyeon Yucheon’s absolute swift sword had grown uncontrollably faster, spewing fire once more.
So swift, precise, and formless was it that Cheolwon’s shoulder seemed to explode on its own.
Kwajik!
It was a staggering sight.
Cheolwon, one of the Four Guardian Kings whose hands were soaked in the blood of countless unorthodox slaughters—earning him the moniker Blood Maitreya—was now the one bleeding.
“Gaaahhh!”
Screaming like a child, no less.
Even more astonishing was what followed.
‘How… how the hell did I get wounded?’
Cheolwon had no idea what technique or method had struck him.
This was monumental.
Blood Maitreya Cheolwon wasn’t some novice guard—he was a super peak expert, one of Shaolin’s top five. Even if caught off-guard, total ignorance of the attack was unthinkable.
“Cheolwon!”
“You alright?”
The remaining Guardian Kings rushed to shield him in shock.
Regrettably, this only inflamed Cheolwon’s temperament further.
Humiliated before so many comrades, he felt utter disgrace.
“Fine! Let’s all plummet to hell together!”
Cheolwon’s eyes rolled back in frenzy.
For a man who’d spent his life exterminating unorthodox warriors and demons, a single blow wounding him was worse than death.
‘If this Blood Maitreya aims for mutual destruction… even the lord of unorthodoxy won’t escape unscathed.’
That was Cheolwon’s resolve.
Frankly, he had no confidence against Hyeon Yucheon’s insane martial prowess—which seemed even greater than the former world’s best, Demon Sword Ghost Lord Cheon Baeksang.
But if he dragged Hyeon Yucheon down with him in death, sacrificing an arm perhaps, his three comrades could finish the job more easily.
“Urraaaah!”
A foe charging with death embraced was always the most terrifying.
‘As expected of Shaolin’s Four Guardian Kings.’
Hyeon Yucheon couldn’t help but acknowledge Blood Maitreya’s ferocious charge, bleeding yet emanating demonic valor.
The ultimate killer technique of the Evil-Exterminating Maitreya Fist, forged for mutual ruin.
Gnashing his teeth, Cheolwon unleashed the Evil-Exterminating Maitreya Fist’s final ultimate technique.
This trump card, reserved for slaughtering unorthodox foes, was one even he hadn’t foreseen using against the unorthodox supreme.
Kwaaaaang!
Fearsome energy erupted from Cheolwon’s bald head and entire body, surging upward as a colossal fist force.
Though inferior to Shaolin’s pinnacle Heavenly Tathagata Divine Palm, the death-defying bid for mutual destruction from a Guardian King made it overwhelmingly potent.
More precisely, his entire body became a single stream of fist force, hurling toward Hyeon Yucheon.
‘I’ll seize your body and beg your comrades to join us in death.’
Cheolwon clung to his plan and executed it.
Or tried to.
As he closed in at terrifying speed to grapple Hyeon Yucheon—
Formless sword force splits light itself in ultimate swiftness.
Sruk!
Cheolwon’s plan was near-perfect, but he overlooked one crucial fact.
Hyeon Yucheon’s swift sword far surpassed him—mutual destruction, let alone an arm, was impossible.
No matter Blood Maitreya’s desperate efforts, he couldn’t threaten the Demon Sword Prince.
Cheolwon moved in frenzy; Hyeon Yucheon with utter leisure.
“Wha? Wh-what?”
As proof, the moment Cheolwon stepped into his domain to seize him, his head was severed in his final experience.
Hyeon Yucheon’s skill was horrifyingly precise—the swift sword so fast and sharp that Cheolwon’s head seemed to flee on its own.
Thud!
Headless, the body thrashed wildly.
“Attain Buddhahood.”
More sincere than mocking, Hyeon Yucheon extended another formless sword force.
Shouldn’t he grant the man’s lifelong wish in death?
Invisible flaming sword qi incinerates all.
Infusing formless sword force with flames, Hyeon Yucheon set Blood Maitreya Cheolwon’s corpse ablaze.
Whoosh!
He stared at the sight briefly before addressing the onlookers.
“Four Guardian Kings’ Blood Maitreya Cheolwon. He was a man of stark contrasts. Steeped in chivalry, yet his tenacity often became blind obsession. He pursued righteousness, but his extremism led him to kill the innocent merely for unorthodox ties.”
Through Demon Sword Ghost Lord’s memories, Hyeon Yucheon knew Cheolwon’s background vividly, though the man was his senior by decades.
After all, hundreds of innocent unorthodox warriors had perished by Blood Maitreya’s hands.
“He stepped into the kill-or-be-killed world of murim. Isn’t this end inevitable?”
Hyeon Yucheon even pressed his palms together in salute, then turned to the remaining three, dumbstruck in disbelief.
The Four Guardian Kings reduced to three in an instant.
‘Impossible!’
‘Unbelievable!’
They clutched their heads, denying reality.
Blood Maitreya Cheolwon was among the top three cheolja warrior monks, the strongest Guardian King save Great Power Buddha Cheolgyun.
“Cheolwon……”
Cheolgyun, who had claimed leadership of the Four Guardian Kings, despaired at the gruesome death.
More painful still: with Blood Maitreya gone, a pillar of their formation crumbled.
‘We can’t deploy the Four Guardian Kings Formation.’
They had planned to unleash Shaolin’s absolute formation and ultimate art against the Demon Sword Sect leader.
But it required all four intact; without their key anchor, it was impossible.
“Will you continue, or retreat?”
Hyeon Yucheon approached the despairing trio, heads bowed.
“Senior Brother Cheolgyun. We can’t retreat like this.”
As all contemplated surrender, Martial Law Monk Cheolseung—the youngest Guardian King—spoke with a hardened face.
Unusually, Cheolseung hailed from the Dharma monks, not warriors. A stroke of fortune had granted him immense inner power, leading him to switch paths.
“Senior Brother Cheolwon’s lifelong vow was to exterminate all unorthodox scum. But……”
Tears streaming, Cheolseung pointed to the charred remains.
“How can we retreat after he’s reduced to this?”
His vengeful words riled even the mild-natured Lotus Finger Cheoljeong, master of Shaolin’s orthodox finger arts—his skill so profound it became his moniker.
“……”
After agonizing deliberation amid his comrades’ pleas, Great Power Buddha Cheolgyun glanced at the Eighteen Arhats.
The Arhat monks had gathered inside the inn, drawn by the immense energy and clamor—all save a few guarding outside.
Fortune in misfortune: the remote location meant no other witnesses besides Hyeon Yucheon’s group.
“Eighteen Arhats, tie down the Demon Sword Sect disciples as best you can.”
At last, the Four Guardian Kings’ leader decided.
After long contemplation, he laid his gambit.
Whether it proved a blunder or divine stroke, only time would tell.
“Today, we’ll repel Demon Sword Prince Hyeon Yucheon, restore Shaolin’s honor, and drag that defrocked disciple Jeong Myeong back to the temple!”
Three Guardian Kings versus Demon Sword Prince Hyeon Yucheon!
Having lost one, how would they face the fearsome Demon Sword Sect leader?
Gulp!
Jeong Myeong, pushed to the back, swallowed hard, holding his breath as he watched intently.
He couldn’t predict the victor, but one thing was certain.
‘Today’s events will become murim legend, etched as epic tale!’