Chapter 1585
Then who the hell are they? (5)
Jang Ilso slowly wiped the blood from the corner of his lips with his sleeve.
The look in Beop Jong’s eyes as he watched this was infinitely heavy.
“It’s over now, Paegun.”
His voice was as heavy as his gaze, but when Jang Ilso looked at him, there was only light contempt and frivolous mockery in his eyes.
“Hmph, there’s no need for words anyway, is there?”
From the moment they faced each other, there was only one thing left.
No matter what intentions they had, no matter what hidden meanings lay beneath, it was the same.
If Beop Jong killed Jang Ilso, he would become a hero who saved Gangho from chaos. On the other hand, if Jang Ilso killed Beop Jong, he would be remembered as a tyrant who trampled the Just Sects and killed the Abbot of Shaolin for the first time in the history of the Evil Sects.
The hidden intentions behind it all didn’t matter. Only the result remained. The simple result of whose hand would grasp the other’s neck first.
“Don’t we both need the same thing?”
As Beop Jong’s tone became more blatant, Jang Ilso laughed lightly.
“You might need my head, but I don’t need yours. What would I do with that old, worthless head? Even a dog wouldn’t eat it.”
Beop Jong’s eyebrows twitched momentarily.
He was the Abbot of Shaolin, after all. Where had he ever experienced such a severe insult? Even if Jang Ilso was the leader of Sapaeryeon, his frivolousness had crossed the line.
“What I ‘need’ isn’t something like that. And what I ‘want’ isn’t something like that either.”
“…Then what is it that you want, Paegun?”
The tips of Jang Ilso’s fingers, where the blood had dried and crusted, twitched slightly.
“Well. It’s something you can’t give me. But at least it will be entertaining. I’m curious to see what expression you’ll make when your solemn mask is stripped away, revealing your true self.”
“Amitabha.”
Beop Jong quietly chanted a Buddhist prayer.
Indeed, any further conversation was meaningless. Both Beop Jong and Jang Ilso knew this.
Crunch.
Beop Jong’s grip slowly tightened. He held his hand open enough to form a space within, as if grasping the void.
It was a fist unique to Shaolin. A fist that forsakes the intent to harm and embodies the mercy of subjugation. No matter what kind of villain they faced, Shaolin’s fist remained the same.
Yet, as Beop Jong glanced down at his lightly clenched fist, there was a strange sense of emptiness in his eyes.
Does it have meaning?
The Dharma is infinite, and its teachings are endless. But how meaningless it is to speak of mercy to this man?
In this moment, was it because the Dharma was not perfect that he felt his lifelong beliefs and learning were useless? Or was it because his understanding was still endlessly lacking?
Beop Jong did not know. He only…
Pressed his fist a little tighter.
He could not even remember how long it had been since he shared his fist with someone. It had been so long that it was beyond his memory.
Not only a life-and-death battle, but even a light sparring match seemed more than ten years past.
He never imagined he would have another chance to engage in a life-or-death duel during his lifetime.
Had his martial arts, once hailed as the divine fist of Mount Song and admired by all under heaven, faded?
Perhaps the answer to that question would come from this man.
“Taking quite a while to prepare. Has your hand grown heavy with your impending death?”
Beop Jong, too, had those times. Times when he believed he could achieve anything and make things go his way.
But as the years passed, he eventually learned. If one truly wants to achieve something, they must know how to endure and wait.
“Just a moment. Just a hair’s breadth.”
“Hm?”
“Failing to endure that is your mistake, Paegun.”
Thud.
As soon as he finished speaking, Beop Jong’s foot lightly touched the ground.
It wasn’t the strong advance unique to Shaolin, but a light step as if he was casually walking. Simultaneously, his fist followed naturally, flowing like water. A truly simple gesture.
Boom!
At that moment, Jang Ilso’s body was quickly flung backwards, as if struck by a giant hammer. His head bent back as if it would break.
“What…!”
The onlookers were so stunned by the sight that they couldn’t even scream properly.
‘Void Shattering Palm?’
Any martial artist who knows how to handle inner power eventually reaches this level. The basic foundation of elevating one’s power to launch their fist’s strength beyond the void.
In itself, this isn’t particularly extraordinary.
What’s astounding is not the Void Shattering Palm itself, but the fact that such a light gesture can unleash such immense power.
How immense must one’s inner strength be, and how thoroughly must one be versed in the fist technique to perform such an unbelievable attack?
And… if this is the power he can produce with a mere Void Shattering Palm, how strong would his fist be when he uses his full power with intent?
Scratch!
Jang Ilso’s feet dug into the ground, leaving deep claw-like marks.
Having retreated for quite a distance, Jang Ilso finally managed to stand, slowly straightening his bent back.
Drip.
Blood trickled down from Jang Ilso’s lips. Which looked bizarre.
“Amitabha.”
As if to show that he wouldn’t be swayed by such wickedness, Beop Jong solemnly chanted a Buddhist prayer. The other disciples of the Just Sects were all overwhelmed by his presence.
Beop Jong, the Abbot of Shaolin.
His power, once known by the world as the Divine Fist of Mount Song [숭산신권(嵩山神拳)], was now revealed in its entirety.
His formidable presence left them breathless and trembling.
“The three poisons are the three delusions that turn life into a sea of suffering.”
“…”
“Greed, hatred, and ignorance. You coveted what you should not have, and you envied and resented everything in the world.”
A chilling blue murderous intent filled Jang Ilso’s eyes.
“Greed and hatred, huh… Then what is my ignorance? What do you think I failed to understand?”
“You should have known. The world you live in is not everything.”
“Hahahahahaha!”
Jang Ilso burst into wild laughter, as if he’d heard a magnificent joke.
“Ha! Hahahah! That answer is a masterpiece. So, my crime deserving death is not knowing that such a great person as yourself existed? Hahahah!”
Whizz!
As Jang Ilso waved his hand, the rings that had flown away flew back into his palm. He calmly slipped the rings back onto his fingers and examined his hand before slowly clenching his fist.
Screeech!
The eerie sound of metal grinding echoed.
“Yes… Maybe that’s true.”
Jang Ilso slowly lowered his hands and began walking towards Beop Jong with a sinister look on his face.
His demeanor was that of someone who scorns everything in the world. Truly the tyrant.
It had yet to be proven whether his martial arts could compare to Beop Jong’s, but his presence was in no way inferior.
“Then you should know this clearly, too.”
“…”
“The reason you’re going to die… is because of the nauseating hypocrisy of deceiving even yourself with your solemn pretense.”
Jang Ilso smiled broadly.
“Got it?”
Those words were the signal.
Bang!
Boom!
Jang Ilso and Beop Jong’s feet simultaneously slammed into the ground.
The greatest fist of the Evil Sects versus the greatest fist of the Just Sects.
Their fists roared violently towards each other.
Boom!
A fierce storm of energy surged in all directions.
Even those who had been fighting desperately to kill each other stopped and turned their heads in that moment.
The golden light of divine energy and the blue light of evil energy.
Everyone present instinctively knew who the owners of those energies were.
The greatest fist of the Just Sects versus the greatest fist of the Evil Sects. This was a life-and-death duel between them. How often does one get the chance to witness such a battle in their lifetime?
Moreover, whether strong or weak, all who practiced martial arts were enthralled by the concept of ‘martial prowess.’ Their gazes kept being drawn to that spot.
But unfortunately, this was a battlefield.
“Aaaaaargh!”
Someone, regaining their senses, swung a sword and took the life of a mesmerized individual.
The dying scream echoed like the shattering of a fallen vase, breaking the temporary stillness of the battlefield.
“Die!”
“You filthy Evil Sect’s scum!”
Blood-stained weapons clashed again, surging towards each other, and boiling blood splattered in all directions.
A once-in-a-lifetime duel was unfolding right beside them, but no one could focus on it.
Those who valued their lives, those swept up in the madness of the battlefield, those simply following orders – all were absorbed in cutting, stabbing, and tearing at the enemies before them.
Thus, the legendary life-and-death duel happening amidst so many people was paradoxically fought in the utmost solitude.
Boom!
Fist met fist.
Beop Jong’s fist, imbued with golden Buddha’s light, instantly repelled Jang IIso’s fist, wrapped in blue flames.
“Amitabha!”
Beop Jong’s fist drew dozens of fist shadows in the air in an instant.
The Demon-Subduing Vájra Fist [항마금강권(降魔金剛拳)]!
Fist shadows the size of a human torso, glowing with golden light, flew towards Jang Ilso at lightning speed.
Swoosh.
Jang IIso staggered as if drunk. Though the fist shadows tore through his fluttering robes, they did not touch his body. Jang Ilso deftly evaded all the incoming fist strikes.
But it was too soon to feel relieved.
Boom!
At that moment, an immense impact struck
Jang IIso’s chest.
“Ugh!”
As he staggered backward, blood gushed from his mouth.
Hundred Step Divine Fist [백보신권(百步神拳)]. In terms of speed, no martial art in the world could compare, hence it was rightfully named the “Divine Fist.” This extraordinary technique, unmatched in its swiftness, was unleashed consecutively.
Beop Jong’s Hundred Step Divine Fist, forcibly executed before the energy of the Demon-Subduing Vájra Fist had even dissipated, focused on speed rather than power. It was a fist strike aimed at giving the opponent no chance to evade, and it perfectly achieved its intent.
Boom!
Now, the Hundred Step Divine Fist, with added power, was unleashed repeatedly.
Every time Jang Ilso kicked off the ground to dodge, the earth where he had stood sank deeply, as if struck by a meteorite.
“Hah!”
Jang Ilso opened his eyes wide, laughing as he spread his hands. The rings on his fingers, charged with his inner energy, spun fiercely and shot towards Beop Jong.
But!
“Amitabha.”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Not a single ring reached Beop Jong’s body.
It was due to the energy expelled from Beop Jong’s fingers. The legendary Shaolin technique, the Divine Power at one’s snap of a finger [탄지신통(彈指神通)], deflected all the incoming rings.
Rings flying faster than arrows shot from a strong bow were all deflected with a flick of the finger, an unimaginable feat.
Even Jang IIso widened his eyes at this astonishing display.
Thud.
Beop Jong lightly tapped the ground with his foot. Simultaneously, his body split into nine, each taking on a pose symbolizing the Buddha.
The scene resembled Buddhist paintins [불화(佛畵)] being drawn on the canvas of the world.
This was the manifestation of the ultimate Shaolin technique, Ninth Stage of the Lotus Pedestal [연대구품(蓮臺九品)*], a skill that could only be mastered at the peak of Shaolin’s divine arts, now displayed through Beop Jong’s body.
Boom!
Beop Jong materialized right in front of Jang Ilso and struck his chest.
Clang!
But the name ‘Paegun’ was not just for show.
His senses, honed to their utmost limits, reacted perfectly even to the unimaginable assault from Beop Jong. His crossed wrists, or rather the bracelets on them, blocked Beop Jong’s palm.
In that instant, Beop Jong’s hand, curled like a dragon’s claw, grasped Jang Ilso’s bracelet.
Boom!
Beop Jong’s palm dug into Jang Ilso’s solar plexus.
While pulling the bracelet with his right hand, he struck Jang Ilso’s chest with his left.
The impact twisted Jang Ilso’s internal organs, but in that moment, he twisted his head violently as if struck in the face instead of the stomach.
Swoosh!
White energy barely grazed Jang Ilso’s cheek.
The One Finger Zen [일지선(一指禪)].
Having restrained Jang Ilso’s hand with the Dragon Binding Hand [박룡수(縛龍手)], Beop Jong had extended his hand and unleashed the One Finger Zen technique in an instant.
Blood began to spread from Jang Ilso’s cheek due to an unexpected attack.
But Beop Jong’s attack was not over.
Bang!
He struck Jang Ilso’s inner thigh with his knee, because his legs were spread to endure the impact.
At the same time, he charged at Jang Ilso with the momentum of a great mountain, hitting him with his shoulder.
Boom!
A sound like a collapsing mountain echoed as Jang Ilso’s body was flung backward.
“A-mi-ta-bha!”
Beop Jong took a one-armed stance and extended his right hand towards Jang Ilso, who was flying away.
A golden palm shadow rapidly expanded, flying towards Jang Ilso like the hand of Avalokiteshvara [관음(觀音)] exterminating demons.
Boom!
A terrifying explosion roared, and a massive shockwave swept in all directions.
Comments