Chapter 55
Chapter 55
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 55
Chapter Title: Dharma Hall (3)
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Unlike the brilliantly clear daytime sky, nightfall brought nothing but thick storm clouds blotting out everything. The full moon, shrouded behind them, strained desperately to assert its presence, but it was no use.
"Heh heh heh! The moonlight's completely vanished. Feels like that gold I donated to the Buddha just the other day is finally paying off."
Cheol Woo suddenly looked up at the sky, convinced it was aiding their cause, and chuckled.
"Maybe so."
Sima Geon flashed a faint smile before his expression tightened as he stared straight ahead.
A small hermitage perched midway up the mountain came into view. From the Shaolin Temple's side, the faint outline of the cave behind it had been visible, but now, from this angle, it was completely hidden.
"Let's hurry."
Sima Geon murmured softly and began moving toward the Dharma Hall—or more precisely, the Dharma Hall standing before the Dalma Cave.
There was no proper path on the rear side. The terrain was treacherous, choked with tangled underbrush like a snarl of hemp ropes. Yet the two moved without hesitation. Neither the darkness nor the dense foliage posed any real obstacle to them.
That was when the vague shape of the Dharma Hall, which had looked no bigger than a fist from afar, sharpened into clear view.
Sima Geon suddenly halted and clamped a hand over Cheol Woo's mouth just as he opened it to voice his confusion.
"What's going on?"
Cheol Woo cautiously asked as he brushed the hand away.
"Looks like an ambush."
Cheol Woo scanned the surroundings briefly and furrowed his brow.
"An ambush? I don't sense anything."
"They're there. About twenty jang to the left of the Dharma Hall entrance. And the same distance on the opposite side."
Cheol Woo focused intently in the directions Sima Geon indicated, then tilted his head. He couldn't detect a single presence. But he didn't question it further. If Sima Geon said they were there, they were there.
"Guards for the Dharma Hall? But no one mentioned anything like that."
"Means the intel we got was wrong. Or they were misinformed from the start. Either way, an unwelcome variable."
"How many?"
"Twelve."
"Variable? Pfft, no problem at all."
Cheol Woo shrugged off the number as insignificant and cracked his knuckles.
"I'll handle it, so you go find the Great Reversion Pill."
Sima Geon watched Cheol Woo's confident demeanor for a moment before slowly shaking his head.
"We'll go together. Need to finish this quick."
"What, you don't trust me?"
"I do. But dragging it out won't help us."
Sima Geon glanced toward the Shaolin Temple, and Cheol Woo nodded reluctantly.
"Fine. Taking on the whole temple would be a bit much."
"You take the left side of the Dharma Hall. I'll handle the opposite."
"Got it."
Sima Geon eyed the somewhat excited Cheol Woo with a hint of doubt.
"Don't kill them."
"I know that much. Can't let bad karma ruin things for the kid."
Cheol Woo waved dismissively as if it were obvious and headed toward his targets.
Even knowing about the ambush, his speed didn't slacken. The only difference was that his presence had vanished completely.
[Go a bit slower. Don't rush and mess up. There might be traps, so check carefully as you move.]
Sima Geon, moving even more stealthily behind him, sent a transmission laced with concern.
[Quit worrying over nothing and do your part, boss. This isn't my first rodeo—sneak attacks like this are child's play. Lately, I've just been slaughtering pigs, so don't overhype...]
Cheol Woo's transmission cut off abruptly.
Just before it did, a cacophony of bells shattered the forest's silence.
Cheol Woo, frozen like a statue, looked down at his feet.
A thread so fine it would be hard to spot even in broad daylight was snagged around his ankle.
Sima Geon, who had slipped up beside him unnoticed, took in the blaring bells from all directions and the thread on Cheol Woo's ankle, then let out a long sigh.
"Hah! I knew it."
A sudden headache hit him; he pressed his temples firmly.
"Haha! Never thought mighty Shaolin would resort to such tricks."
Cheol Woo, culprit of the blunder, forced an awkward laugh to smooth it over, but it was futile.
The sneak attack had failed. The Arhats of the Heavenly Kings Hall—who had been lying in wait on the abbot's orders—along with the Four Heavenly Kings and Eight Vajra, were charging toward them at ferocious speed.
"Seems the thieves have arrived, Martial Uncle."
Gong Hu, the Heavenly Kings Hall leader, shot up like lightning at the sound of the bells and raised his voice.
"Indeed. Your words ring true."
The old monk rose calmly and lit the lamp.
"You fool! How long do you plan to sleep? Get up!"
Gong Hu bellowed at the young monk snoring at his feet. The youth lay curled on his side like a bear in hibernation, his scrawny frame pitifully thin.
"Leave him be. I've intensified his training lately—he must be worn out."
A gentle smile played on Won Jin's lips, but Gong Hu couldn't accept it.
Gong Hu's thick finger struck the young monk—Mu In—square on the forehead.
"Ack!"
With a sharp yelp, Mu In's body jerked into the air like a freshly caught fish. He rubbed his forehead furiously, glaring resentfully at Gong Hu. Even half-asleep, Gong Hu chuckled dryly at the sight.
"Still not awake? Want another?"
"N-no, sir. What's going on?"
Mu In stumbled back, rubbing his eyes vigorously as he asked.
"What's going on? Have you ever seen such a laid-back fool? You call that a question? Chaos outside and you're asking?"
"Huh? Now that you mention..."
Mu In perked up his ears, then leaped to his feet at the sounds of violent clashes and shouts.
"Thieves for real? Master's words were true!"
Mu In bolted out the door without waiting, his momentum impressive despite his frail appearance. Gong Hu sighed watching him go.
"My apologies, Martial Uncle. I should've fixed that impulsive, scatterbrained nature before sending him here."
Gong Hu bowed awkwardly.
Mu In had been brought back by Won Jin eleven years ago, during a lunar eclipse while he was away. Won Jin had intended to take him as a disciple but accepted him nominally to avoid rank issues. It was a master-disciple bond in name only—no real instruction given—but it still felt embarrassing.
"Remember how he was when I first brought him to headquarters. Trapped in fate's chains, harboring only malice toward the world. Isn't his genuine self now brighter and better?"
"......"
Gong Hu had no reply and quietly followed Won Jin as he stepped outside.
"Impossible!"
Shock spread across Mu Seong's face after confidently landing a strike.
His fist, which had slammed into the enemy's chest, throbbed as if pounding an iron gate. The rebounding protective qi infiltrating his body set his meridians ablaze.
"Tsk tsk, no experience at all."
Cheol Woo clicked his tongue and pursued the retreating Mu Seong.
"When your foe exposes a weakness so easily, suspect a trap first. Mistakes come at a high cost."
With those words, Cheol Woo thrust his fist forward.
Attacks rained in from all sides to save Mu Seong, but Cheol Woo ignored them.
Mu Seong bit his lip until it bled and extended his fist with all his might.
Cheol Woo's and Mu Seong's fists collided in midair.
Crack!
Bones shattered, Mu Seong's arm twisted at an unnatural angle, and his agonized scream shook the forest.
Meanwhile, a barrage of attacks poured down.
Cheol Woo made no effort to defend, taking them all on his body without a scratch.
"Th-that Diamond Indestructibility?"
"A monster!"
The Eight Vajra who attacked recoiled in horror at the unexpected rebound qi.
"Protect our junior brother!"
Mu Hae, leader of the Eight Vajra, supported the staggering Mu Seong and shouted. Fearing Cheol Woo's follow-up, but Cheol Woo stepped back, courteously(?) allowing them to retrieve him safely.
"I've heard plenty about Shaolin's reputation lately. If this is your best, it's quite disappointing. Surely not?"
Cheol Woo smiled provocatively at the Eight Vajra and the Four Heavenly Kings who had arrived from the opposite side.
Countless aspire to become Shaolin disciples. Only a select few succeed, and among them, only those with exceptional talent and skill pass rigorous tests to become Arhats.
The top four Arhats are the Four Heavenly Kings, followed by the Eight Vajra—they are Shaolin's face and pride.
Cheol Woo was utterly dismissing them. Even seasoned Shaolin disciples couldn't tolerate such an insult.
"Attack!"
The Eight Vajra glared silently and charged as one.
"That's it. Come at me."
Cheol Woo, who had been baiting them eagerly, grinned broadly and clapped his fists together. Then he barreled straight at the oncoming Eight Vajra.
He took the leading Mu Song's staff on his shoulder and countered with a punch.
Mu Song's face paled upon landing the hit.
Too late to dodge—the opponent's speed was blinding, mismatched with his bear-like bulk.
A heavy thud echoed as Mu Song's abdomen took the blow. His body floated up and crashed away.
Several ribs cracked, internal injuries mounting. But remembering Sima Geon's plea to avoid killing, Cheol Woo pulled back at the last moment—no fatal wound.
Three staffs whistled in with sharp whooshes. Cheol Woo stood motionless, inviting full assault on his body.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Impacts sharper than striking metal blanched the three Vajra Arhats' faces.
Cheol Woo snatched Mu Il's staff rebounding from his neck.
One trying to seize, the other to hold on.
A brief struggle, but Mu Il couldn't match Cheol Woo's brute strength.
As Cheol Woo's fist flew toward the off-balance Mu Il, a roar accompanied Mu Un's kick slamming into him.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
In one breath, eighteen kicks hammered Cheol Woo. The force was immense—Cheol Woo's massive frame staggered back repeatedly.
'Well now.'
Cheol Woo scowled. Despite his Overlord Blood Victory Aura shielding him, being pushed back bruised his pride.
"Hm, so this is Shaolin martial arts."
Cheol Woo admitted he'd underestimated them somewhat. But that was it. The attacks were fierce, yet no game-changer. His attacker now clutched a broken leg, unable to withstand the Overlord Blood Victory Aura's backlash.
"Heh heh! Not bad anyway. Shaolin lives up to its name..."
Cheol Woo's mocking—or slightly admiring—words trailed off. A strike far fiercer than Mu Un's Supreme Foot Technique hammered his chest and abdomen simultaneously.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Cheol Woo stumbled back, cratering the ground with each step.
"That landed solid."
"Not just Mu Hae—Junior Brother Mu Yeom's grown much stronger too."
A short distance from where Cheol Woo battled the Eight Vajra.
The Four Heavenly Kings' tense faces finally relaxed as their brothers fell one by one.
Mu Hae and Mu Yeom's Hundred Paces Divine Fist—enough to topple Mount Tai—had struck true. Though the foe's external arts seemed peak-level, they doubted he could endure it.
But as Cheol Woo straightened up and spat blood aggressively, shock unified their expressions.
At that instant, something dropped silently behind the Four Heavenly Kings.
Movement stealthier than midnight dew, more illusory than dawn mist.
A black silhouette landed as if it had always been there.
Sima Geon, who had hidden in the trees the moment the bells rang and the ambushers approached, ignoring Cheol Woo's earlier chiding about hiding.
Erasing his presence perfectly, he waited for the perfect moment. As the Four Heavenly Kings faltered against Cheol Woo's iron body, he struck from the shadows.
Mu Jun and Mu On collapsed wordlessly, necks struck.
Instinctive protective qi flared at the attack, but Sima Geon's blow neutralized it effortlessly.
Mu Yeon sensed him and recoiled in alarm, but Sima Geon had already subdued Mu Young in a blink.
His attack now bore down on Mu Yeon.
Mu Yeon gritted his teeth, desperately thrusting his hand out to escape.
A single strand of qi shot toward Sima Geon.
Shaolin's secret art: Diamond Finger.
Mu Yeon aimed to disrupt with Diamond Finger, then follow with Thousand Hands Palm. But shock burst from his lips.
The streaking Diamond Finger—capable of piercing a thousand geun boulder—vanished like smoke at the enemy's casual wave.
It wasn't full power due to the urgency, but he never imagined it could dissipate so easily. Worse, without the delay, he had no chance to unleash Thousand Hands Palm properly. A fatal lapse.
His meridian-seizing strike landed before he could fully extend.
'Amitabha!'
Feeling strength drain from his body, Mu Yeon closed his eyes in despair.