Chapter 218
Formless Heavenly Flow, Eighth Form: Lament by the River.
An ultimate counterattack form where the moment the enemy's decisive strike touches the body, unavoidable sword strokes pour forth like an unrelenting tide.
KRA-BOOM!
At that moment, accompanied by a thunderous roar, Gwang-yeon's hands split the air with a force so sharp it could pierce even a Vajra Bronze Man in a single strike.
It was the subtle essence of the Coiled Zen Hand, one of Shaolin's Seventy-Two Supreme Arts.
Just as the Coiled Zen Hand was about to make contact with Bu Eun-seol's body—
ZIIING!
With a strange vibration, the light enveloping Bu Eun-seol vanished, splitting apart the Coiled Zen Hand and driving straight into Gwang-yeon's chest.
Bu Eun-seol had dispersed his true qi throughout his entire body, completely grasping the trajectory of the Coiled Zen Hand. He had finally executed the opening stance of Lament by the River.
SHWAAAK!
But then, something unexpected happened.
The stance Gwang-yeon had been using to unleash the Coiled Zen Hand suddenly shifted, and a majestic fist energy came crashing down toward Bu Eun-seol's chest.
'What—?'
This time, Bu Eun-seol was genuinely startled.
Had the ultimate technique he'd prepared to defeat the Beggar King been completely dismantled by Gwang-yeon?
That shock lasted only for an instant—a mere fraction of a moment.
Having reached the realm of Empty Mind Spirit Perception, Bu Eun-seol could stretch time several times longer than an ordinary person.
WHOOSH!
In that split second, a force powerful enough to split Mount Tai bore down on Bu Eun-seol's chest.
SWISH!
He pushed Swift Shadowless to its limit, barely dodging as the force struck the Great Tree behind him instead.
PSSSHHH!
The Great Tree shattered into dust, scattering in all directions.
Arhat Divine Fist.
The supreme fist art of Shaolin, lost for ages, had been resurrected in Gwang-yeon's hands.
'He altered his stance mid-path.'
Seeing that Bu Eun-seol's momentum was anything but ordinary, Gwang-yeon had instantly switched from the Coiled Zen Hand to the Arhat Divine Fist.
Using Strength to Mend Weakness.
Just like Seong-ryun, one of the Great Righteous Experts from the Beggars' Sect, had done, Gwang-yeon had modified his stance midway, employing the subtle principle of adaptation.
SAAAA—
Gwang-yeon's offensive did not end there.
Before Bu Eun-seol could react, another ghostly surge of fist energy coiled around his body.
Though it brushed past him as softly as a favorable wind, the moment it struck, it carried enough might to shatter every bone in his body.
"Amitabha."
Gwang-yeon watched as Bu Eun-seol frantically evaded, his lips curling into a smile of triumph.
He had sensed the terrifying counterattack brewing in Bu Eun-seol's movements and had immediately altered his stance mid-path, unleashing the Arhat Divine Fist—the supreme fist art of the Buddhist School.
KRA-BOOM!
As the fist energy grazed another boulder, it crumbled into dust, scattering in the wind.
The martial arts of the Buddhist School were meant to suppress killing intent to the extreme, rendering the opponent incapable of counterattack.
But the might of the Arhat Divine Fist was so overwhelming that a single clean hit could sever one's breath entirely.
THUD!
As the assault continued, Bu Eun-seol's body sank deep into the ground before rebounding like a coiled spring.
Crouching low, he shot into the air, scattering dozens of shadows in an instant, dispersing and regrouping repeatedly.
He was evading the fist energy of the Arhat Divine Fist—something that could neither be seen nor felt.
"Way of the Beast?"
Gwang-yeon let out another exclamation.
Way of the Beast.
Why had such a life-risking discipline become the foundational martial art of Langya Pavilion?
Because Langya Pavilion's martial arts required enlightenment through real combat to advance the Martial Arts True Scripture—and death rendered all progress meaningless.
Bu Eun-seol was now demonstrating the relentless survival instincts of Langya Pavilion's discipline without restraint.
HWA-AK!
Then, the pouring fist energy completely cut off Bu Eun-seol's retreat.
This astonishing fist art of the Buddhist School even contained the ability to sustain its force in the air for extended periods—just like the Evil Spirit Jade Blood Spear of the Spectral Sect.
"This is the end!"
Gwang-yeon overlapped dozens of fist energies, sending them crashing down upon Bu Eun-seol's head.
He wasn't aiming to exploit an opening and strike directly—instead, he intended to collide overwhelming force against force, rendering Bu Eun-seol immobile.
'Dozens of fist energies converging into one...'
Bu Eun-seol's eyes flashed as he observed the overlapping Arhat Divine Fists Gwang-yeon had unleashed.
A martial stance, in the end, was about linking movements into a single conclusion.
Whether it changed mid-path or branched into a thousand variations, what ultimately reached the body was one singular force.
'I see.'
At this life-or-death moment, a faint light spilled from Bu Eun-seol's entire body as he attained realization.
Simultaneously, the Ink Sword in his hand released a single streak of light.
SHWAAAAA!
The black points of light erupting from the Ink Sword coiled around the descending Arhat Divine Fist above his head.
Simultaneously, a miraculous phenomenon occurred.
The Arhat Divine Fist that had been unleashed upon Bu Eun-seol suddenly reversed its course—now hurtling back toward Gwang-yeon himself.
"How...?"
Gwang-yeon couldn't believe his eyes.
It was as if he'd thrown a stone at a bird in flight, only for it to rebound and shatter against his own face.
"Urk—!"
In his shock, Gwang-yeon simultaneously deployed the Coiling Zen Hand and Prajna Great Power, deflecting the returning Arhat Divine Fist at an angle.
KOO-RUMBLE! KR-R-RUMBLE!
With a thunderous roar, Gwang-yeon's body was sent skidding backward, the sleeves of his robes disintegrating into drifting powder.
Shing!
Seizing the opening, Bu Eun-seol's Ink Sword pierced toward Gwang-yeon's flank.
"Haaap!"
Unable to evade the blade, Gwang-yeon roared as he summoned the Vajra Indestructible Body Art.
BOOM!
The Ink Sword carved into his side, sending him crashing into a boulder over thirty yards away before he crumpled gracelessly to the ground.
"Ghk—!"
He immediately vomited bright blood, one knee hitting the dirt. Though the Vajra Indestructible Body had prevented him from being cleaved in half, it couldn't neutralize the devastating reverse force channeled through the Ink Sword.
"How could this—?"
Swish!
No time to process.
Bu Eun-seol's blade was already arcing toward his throat.
"Urgh—!"
Gwang-yeon flung himself backward, narrowly avoiding decapitation. The man hailed as Shaolin's Greatest Prodigy had just preserved his life with the humiliating Lazy Donkey Roll.
But Bu Eun-seol's Swift Shadowless was faster.
Click.
By the time Gwang-yeon's body rebounded from the ground like a freshly caught carp, the Ink Sword was already waiting at his throat.
Drip.
As the blade touched skin, it split flesh, releasing a crimson rivulet of blood.
"To think there exists a martial art capable of reflecting our temple's supreme fist technique..."
Gazing at the falling blood droplets, Gwang-yeon lowered his head with a hollow expression.
"This humble monk admits defeat."
He had been utterly confident of flawless victory. Yet the outcome was Bu Eun-seol's complete triumph.
"Benefactor Bu's abilities truly know no bounds. To innovate a new martial art at the brink of annihilation..."
Unmistakable admiration tinged Gwang-yeon's voice. Bu Eun-seol had refused surrender even in despair, transforming his techniques mid-battle to seize victory. This explosive growth had surpassed even Bu Eun-seol's own expectations.
"The limits of Buddhist martial arts," Bu Eun-seol remarked in his winter-wind voice.
"Had you sought to kill me with that fist technique, your defeat wouldn't have been so pathetic."
Had Gwang-yeon struck with lethal intent, embedding the Arhat Divine Fist into Bu Eun-seol's body?
He wouldn't have been defeated so easily.
But Gwang-yeon had merely layered his fist power, seeking only to suppress.
"Our temple's martial arts were never meant for slaughter. They exist to temper body and spirit, to deepen one's mastery of Buddhist dharma."
Even facing death, Gwang-yeon smiled serenely.
"How could a disciple of the Buddhist Order cling to victory and employ killing moves?"
"I see."
Bu Eun-seol gazed down at him with glacial eyes.
This hadn't been a mutual test of skill. Had Bu Eun-seol lost, Gwang-yeon would have shattered his dantian without hesitation.
Now that Bu Eun-seol had won, it was only fair to deliver death.
"Amitabha."
Gwang-yeon pressed his palms together and closed his eyes, meeting mortality without fear.
Just as Bu Eun-seol's blade thrust unhesitatingly toward his throat—
KWA-BOOOOOM!
A sound like a collapsing waterfall erupted as palm energy massive as Mount Tai came crashing down.
Thirty-two hand-shadows lanced through the air, each sharp enough to pierce steel. Unless Bu Eun-seol retreated instantly, his entire body would be skewered.
Tzzt-tzzt-tzzt!
But the unexpected occurred.
Bu Eun-seol's form blurred as the cascading palm strikes began passing harmlessly through him—he'd activated Swift Shadowless, capable of shifting through ninety-nine spatial orientations midair.
Flutter.
With the sound of wind-whipped robes, eighteen monks in crimson kasayas descended from above.
"Amitabha."
The lead monk sighed deeply upon seeing Bu Eun-seol.
"Not just your martial arts—even your movement technique is extraordinary."
Despite eighteen palms unleashing torrential energy, Bu Eun-seol's sword never wavered from Gwang-yeon's throat.
The monk shook his head, exhaling another heavy sigh.
"What a pity that such an exceptional prodigy has fallen to the Demonic Path..."
"Who are you?"
At this, the monk stared directly into Bu Eun-seol's eyes and spoke in a solemn voice.
"This humble monk is Gong-myeong, leader of the Eighteen Arhats."
The warrior monks of Shaolin, said to handle all major affairs within the Martial World.
The Eighteen Arhats had suddenly appeared before Bu Eun-seol.
"So that's how it is."
Their appearance allowed Bu Eun-seol to grasp a new truth.
The Beggars' Sect had prepared Gwang-yeon as bait. And anticipating that might not be enough, they'd prepared another piece—the Eighteen Arhats.
"I wasn't aware Shaolin had become the Beggars' Sect's lackeys."
Even as Bu Eun-seol sneered sharply, Gong-myeong replied impassively.
"Do not misunderstand. The temple's command was not to kill you, but to secretly protect Gwang-yeon after he left for the Martial World."
"How merciful of Shaolin."
Bu Eun-seol laughed coldly.
"To mobilize the famed Eighteen Arhats just to protect one lowly sweeping monk who ventured into the Martial World..."
"That is the temple's internal affair. No concern for outsiders."
Gong-myeong gazed at Bu Eun-seol with stern eyes.
"Release Gwang-yeon. Do so, and we shall question you no further."
"Question me?"
Bu Eun-seol nearly laughed at the absurdity.
"What crime have I committed against Shaolin?"
"The one you threaten with your blade is a disciple of our temple."
"So Shaolin's disciples are untouchable, but those of the Demonic Path are fair game?"
"The outcome is already decided. That should suffice."
"I care nothing for outcomes."
A cold light swirled in Bu Eun-seol's pupils.
"He sought to cripple my martial arts."
"So you insist on taking his life?"
"If one attempts to reduce another to a cripple, shouldn't they come prepared to face the same fate?"
At this, Gwang-yeon, who had been kneeling silently, spoke.
"Benefactor Bu speaks truth. Since I sought to cripple his martial arts... I've no right to protest even if he kills me."
"Gwang-yeon. Stay out of this."
Gong-myeong chastised him with a stern look before turning back to Bu Eun-seol.
"You truly mean to kill him?"
"I do."
"Demonic Nature has seeped into your very marrow."
Then, with eyes blazing like righteous light, he said:
"Since this is your choice, do not blame this humble monk."
Hummm—
In that instant, Bu Eun-seol's vision blurred.
A majestic energy erupted from the bodies of the Eighteen Arhats surrounding him, binding him in an instant.
—If you ever encounter the Eighteen Arhats in the Martial World, maintain at least thirty paces between you.
Suddenly, Bu Eun-seol recalled Elder Yin Monster Demon Scythe's words from Peach Blossom Paradise in the Heaven-Severing, Earth-Destroying Sanctuary, where the elder had shared tales of his murim days.
—Those of the Demonic Path fear their Eighteen Arhat Formation, but the truly terrifying technique is something else entirely.
—What would that be?
—The Heart-Knocking Bell technique.
When Bu Eun-seol had tilted his head curiously back then, the elder had continued with utmost seriousness:
—A Shaolin Secret Art that channels overwhelming internal energy to burst meridians. Its activation is undetectable, and once trapped, escape is impossible until your meridians rupture.
'So this is the Heart-Knocking Bell.'
As the deluge of internal energy poured in, Bu Eun-seol's vision darkened.
Blocking this technique from a single Shaolin master would be difficult enough—but eighteen elite warrior monks channeling their energy simultaneously?
Not even a Great Immortal could easily escape this.
Crack—
Tremendous pressure bore down as the sound of cracking bones echoed from Bu Eun-seol's body.
Even with internal energy surpassing four sixty-year cycles, withstanding the combined power of the Eighteen Arhats was impossible.
Splurt—
Suddenly, thick veins bulged across Bu Eun-seol's face.
Given time, the Heart-Knocking Bell would inevitably shatter his meridians.
—Yet it's not entirely inescapable.
As memories of Peach Blossom Paradise resurfaced, Elder Yin's voice seemed to whisper in Bu Eun-seol's ear:
—What do you mean by that?
—You're still alive, aren't you?
—How did you know I escaped the Heart-Knocking Bell? I've never told anyone.
—Your eyes brimmed with pride every time you mentioned the technique.
—Hahaha! You're sharp indeed. The truth about that technique is...
Whoosh—
A faint breeze stirred as millions of light particles began rising beneath Bu Eun-seol's feet.
Simultaneously, bloody light and golden radiance intertwined in his pupils.
Hiss—
Then something miraculous occurred.
The bodies of the Eighteen Arhats channeling the Heart-Knocking Bell began being forced backward.