Exiled Monk (4)
‘If we retreat like this, our Shaolin will become the laughingstock of the world.’
Great Power Buddha Cheolgyun knew it all too well.
This battle offered slim chances of victory.
Yet there were times when one had to charge into a fight, fully aware of defeat.
If word spread that the Four Guardian Kings had fled in fear of a single Demon Sword Sect leader—right here in Henan, near Mount Song—Shaolin’s prestige would plummet.
“We’ve lost Blood Maitreya Cheolwon. Even if we all perish… let’s drive back the Demon Sword Sect leader and buy time for the Eighteen Arhats to escape with Jeong Myeong!”
Just as Blood Maitreya had done, the remaining Four Guardian Kings steeled themselves for death.
What they sought was Shaolin’s honor—and fulfilling the abbot’s command.
In other words, returning the exiled monk Jeong Myeong to Shaolin.
Nod!
The Four Guardian Kings nodded in unison, grinding their teeth.
They couldn’t use their original formation, but that didn’t mean they had no options.
They had trained together for decades, honing their martial arts in perfect sync.
Overwhelming a single foe in joint assault? Child’s play.
“Haaap!”
Leading the charge was the man who stood at the pinnacle of Shaolin’s external arts, his massive frame brimming with raw power: Great Power Buddha Cheolgyun.
From childhood, he’d towered a head above others, boasting inhuman strength.
His gift allowed him to execute Shaolin’s ultimate technique, the Great Monk Six Harmonies Fist, to perfection.
-Ukseung Sabang!
The Great Monk Six Harmonies Fist in a word: mountain-shattering force and ferocity.
Wooong, wooooong!
Paired with Cheolgyun’s heaven-blessed physique, its might was overwhelming.
“Hmm.”
Even Hyeon Yucheon widened his eyes slightly at the terrifying power of the Great Monk Six Harmonies Fist.
With his assault as the spearhead, the remaining Guardian Kings unleashed a barrage.
-Lotus Finger!
Cheoljeong deployed his signature finger technique, now synonymous with his moniker.
And
-Dharma Heaven-Flipping!
Martial Law Monk Cheolseung perfectly recreated the hand technique no one had mastered in over a century due to its voracious qi drain: the Dharma Eighteen Hands.
‘They say Shaolin hides countless ultimate arts… and it’s true.’
Each martial art from the Four Guardian Kings was a transcendent Shaolin masterpiece, rare as hen’s teeth.
Hyeon Yucheon couldn’t underestimate the might of the millennium-old Shaolin.
Kwaang, kwagagang!
Cheolgyun’s straightforward, pulverizing fist blasts; Cheolseung’s hands blotting out the sky, blinding Hyeon Yucheon’s vision; and Cheoljeong’s support fire from afar, piercing hearts on contact. A flawless, all-encompassing assault.
“Eh? Eek!”
The sheer firepower jolted young monk Jeong Myeong—who’d been spectating as a third party—to his feet with a cry.
He’d immersed himself so deeply, empathizing as if he were the one enduring that mad onslaught.
One might say he felt awkward about this fight erupting over him.
-Silent Phantom Body Technique!
The old Mugeom Sword Young Master might have parried or countered each blow.
But now, Hyeon Yucheon possessed the supreme lightness skill unexpectedly gained from the Ami Sect: the Silent Phantom Body Technique.
Dodging was now an option.
Swoooosh!
Hyeon Yucheon’s mastery of the Silent Phantom Body Technique had quietly reached the third star.
Its true power awakened at that stage, allowing near-silent movement and seamless blending into shadows.
-Formless Linked Bullets!
Even more terrifying: his attacks were silent too.
Dodge without a sound, strike without a whisper—could anything be more chilling?
Hyeon Yucheon outpaced and outstealthed the murim’s deadliest assassins.
Pabababang!
The Formless Linked Bullets—a volley of short sword-gang bursts—engulfed the three warrior monks.
Since opening his upper dantian, Hyeon Yucheon’s lower techniques had vastly expanded and strengthened; Formless Linked Bullets reaped the greatest rewards.
“Ugh!”
“Fall back—fall back now!”
Like a sudden storm, the near-endless barrage of sword qi rained down like arrows.
“Be careful!”
“We’ll help!”
Several Eighteen Arhats moved to intervene, but they faced obstacles too.
“Want to die before the Four Guardian Kings?”
“Don’t interfere in their battle.”
Ga Jinuk, Eum Ji-myeong, and So Jaun blocked their path.
Meanwhile, the clash between the three warrior monks and the Mugeom Sword Young Master intensified.
There was a saying: one against a hundred.
Describing one who could handle a hundred foes effortlessly. Hyeon Yucheon’s prowess now rivaled one against a thousand—or ten thousand.
-Formless Two Heavens Sword!
Hyeon Yucheon didn’t brute-force superior arts.
Having mastered every stance perfectly—for instance, feinting the Formless Two Heavens Sword’s split strikes at Great Power Buddha Cheolgyun and Martial Law Monk Cheolseung.
Sslash!
Then subtly targeting the tricky Lotus Finger Cheoljeong with a variation.
-When facing multiples alone, beware most those sniping from afar.
Hyeon Yucheon still heeded his master’s maxim.
His beginner’s mind remained unchanged; unsatisfied with his current level, he sought endless growth.
He’d reached the world’s pinnacle, yet stayed true to fundamentals.
“Ughhh.”
The three Guardian Kings panicked as rear-guard Cheoljeong took a wound and bled.
Cheolgyun and Cheolseung thrived with Cheoljeong’s finger blasts clearing lanes.
Drip, drip!
Cheoljeong’s injury was graver than thought.
His fingers—capable of piercing diamond—bled from Hyeon Yucheon’s invisible sword-gang.
“Cheoljeong!”
“Senior brother!”
As startled Cheolgyun and Cheolseung rushed to support him!
“Stay back! He’s feinting at me to target you two!”
Wounded Cheoljeong bellowed furiously.
‘It’s a trap!’
Sharpest-minded among the Four, Cheoljeong kept eyes locked on Hyeon Yucheon—only to spot a sly lip-curl.
His deduction nailed it.
Hyeon Yucheon had first feigned at the front two to wound Cheoljeong, luring the others in.
“……!”
Alerted, the pair stared ahead.
And there it was.
-Formless Mystery: Formless Endless Sword!
Too late to notice.
The Formless Mystery unfurled silently like endless clouds, strikes without end.
Sslash, sslash, sslash, sssslash!
Chilling severance sounds echoed from all directions.
This was Hyeon Yucheon’s true terror.
Fools fixated on absurd arts or qi alone—but nonsense.
The sharpest blade in a novice’s hands only wounds the wielder.
Hyeon Yucheon mastered every stance perfectly, fooling super peak masters into easy captures.
‘Master’s experiences are now fully mine.’
Gazing at the crumbling trio before his Formless Mystery, Hyeon Yucheon realized.
Transcending and claiming them as his own had taken ages.
No easy feat—perhaps harder than reaching Entering Divinity or opening the upper dantian.
Even Demon Sword Fiend Cheon Baeksang would struggle against the Four alone.
Yet Hyeon Yucheon triumphed.
Kuuuung!
First to fall: unexpectedly sturdy Great Power Buddha Cheolgyun.
His body shredded horrifically—he’d clashed head-on to blunt the Formless Endless Sword.
Stagger!
Next, Lotus Finger Cheoljeong collapsed, eyes rolled back, foam at his mouth.
Specialized in mid-to-long range, vulnerable up close; surviving initial strikes was a miracle.
“Th-this can’t be. Impossible. How… stronger than the Demon Sword Fiend?”
The least scathed: youngest Martial Law Monk Cheolseung.
Relatively intact, yet death loomed—pupils quaking.
‘Shaolin Abbot, how will you face this demon?’
He groped for prayer beads, sensing the end.
“Seeking Buddha?”
Hyeon Yucheon’s gaze remained impassive after shredding three.
As if he’d foreseen it—certain of victory.
“Shaolin slaughtered my master and parents… and you think you worthy to invoke him?”
His icy heart blazed only upon vengeance complete.
“A… Amitabha…”
As Cheolseung murmured the chant!
Kwajik!
Heart-piercing agony felled him.
From start to Hyeon Yucheon dismantling Shaolin’s super peak Four Guardian Kings alone: under half a shichen.
Aaah!
As the Four cooled into corpses, the Eighteen Arhats wailed in unison.
They’d brimmed with pride as Shaolin elites.
Thrilled to be Arhats, Shaolin brethren.
But today’s nadir as warrior monks was unprecedented.
‘This is… Mugeom Sword Young Master Hyeon Yucheon, surging past Sapa supremacy toward world’s best!’
Unlike the fallen Guardians and despairing Arhats, one gazed in pure awe.
Young monk Jeong Myeong.
Sorrow and joy mingled: grief for meals shared with the departed Guardians; thrill at Hyeon Yucheon matching expectations.
Yet grander: he wasn’t mere villain.
‘Who could curse this Sapa sovereign?’
Awe for martial heights he’d never touch.
At least, Jeong Myeong thought so.
Swipe!
Hyeon Yucheon’s eyes shifted past the Four to the Eighteen Arhats.
‘Upper dantian open… their endurance defies belief.’
He inwardly marveled too.
Old qi stores? One Formless Mystery halved his stamina and reserves.
Now? Four times over, unscathed.
Confident he could solo the Arhats next.
“Esteemed Eighteen Arhats of mighty Shaolin. Two choices.”
Arms crossed, Hyeon Yucheon spoke calmly.
“Suicide… or die by my hand.”