Chapter 1592
Even the Buddha has abandoned you. (2)
Death was never something Beop Jong thought was far off. He was not young, after all. But could he ever have imagined that his death would come in such a manner? Now, an unimaginable form of death was relentlessly overtaking his entire body.
‘I…’
The energy coursing backward through his body seemed to tear and claw at him. Yet, the unbearable pain seemed insignificant compared to the hell in his heart.
‘What did I desire…?’
Everything had to be glorious.
Shaolin’s glory.
It was something unattainable, making him want it even more. Just like the Dharma that forever eluded his full understanding, he desperately wanted to grasp it in his hands.
‘It’s futile…’
Futility.
It was the word he had repeated the most in his life, a mantra he had endlessly recited. But had he ever truly regarded anything as futile? Had he ever tried to live by the words he murmured out of habit?
“Cough.”
Blood surged over his blurred thoughts. How could such a frail body hold so much blood? It was as if his greed, which he had harbored so deeply, was now pouring out.
“Do not be so resentful.”
Crack.
Jang Ilso stepped slowly towards Beop Jong.
“Meeting your end by my hand might not be the worst outcome.”
“…”
“Compared to what you would have to endure if you stayed alive.”
Beop Jong let out a bitter laugh. Maybe he was right.
If he died here, he would merely be recorded as a foolish man. But if he survived, he would have to endure unbearable criticism and disgrace with open eyes.
How could one walk such an endless, thorny path with a human body?
Beop Jong, who let out a hollow laugh, struggled to bring his hands together in prayer.
However, his hands would not move anymore. Whether it was because he had exhausted all his strength, or because Buddha would not even allow him to offer a prayer.
Behind Jang Ilso, many were still dying.
If the fact that the Abbot of Shaolin had been defeated became known, the massacre would only accelerate. Foolishly, such a burden had been placed on these powerless shoulders.
“All… is… futile…”
Beop Jong’s head gradually lowered.
A strange sense of displeasure flashed across Jang Ilso’s face as he watched him.
“Oh dear, oh dear… to put on such an act now, how unfitting.”
Jang Ilso raised his hand, now stained with a blue tint.
“Pigs should die like pigs, shouldn’t they? Even if it means squealing as they’re slaughtered.”
Just as Jang Ilso’s hand was about to strike.
Bang!
A force from somewhere flew in and stopped Jang Ilso. And then a desperate scream followed.
“Abbooooooooot!”
One of Beop Gye’s arms was now completely gone, and he was rushing forward, blood splattering everywhere.
“Ooooooh!”
With his remaining hand, he unleashed a series of punches that struck Jang Ilso one after another. Jang Ilso’s face contorted as he deflected the incoming blows multiple times.
“This…!”
In that brief moment, Beop Gye quickly lifted the kneeling Beop Jong and leaped away.
Jang Ilso, who had instinctively raised his hand towards Beop Jong’s back, paused for a moment. Then, surprisingly, he slowly lowered his hand.
“Ryeonju!”
Jeok Ho, who had been fighting Beop Gye, ran over with a pale face and bowed his head.
“I apologize. I didn’t expect him to sacrifice his arm..”
“Hmm.”
Jang Ilso glanced down at the rigid Jeok Ho.
As his gaze brushed against Jeok Ho’s neck, Jeok Ho shuddered involuntarily.
Even if his head were to be cut off, he couldn’t complain. It wasn’t just because of carelessness. Incompetence is a greater sin than carelessness.
“I will get him immediately…”
“What do you think?”
“..Pardon?”
Jeok Ho raised his head.
Jang Ilso’s gaze had already left him. He was quietly watching the battlefield, which resembled hell itself.
“It’s quite a spectacular sight, isn’t it?”
“..Ryeonju.”
“Take a good look. Such a scene might be something you’ll never see again in your lifetime.”
Jeok Ho, dumbfounded, looked at Jang lIso before bowing again.
“I will pursue them.”
Jang Ilso chuckled.
“How boring… Do as you wish. I have more to observe.”
“Yes!”
Jeok Ho gritted his teeth and chased after Beop Gye and Beop Jong.
Jang Ilso glanced indifferently at Jeok Ho before turning his gaze back to the battlefield soaked in blood. Flames that had started somewhere flickered, casting deep shadows across his face.
“Ha ha ha…”
A weak laugh escaped him.
“Hahahahahaha!”
Soon, that laugh grew into a loud, maniacal laughter.
His shadow wavered as if it were dancing erratically. The bloodstains on the ground intertwined with his long shadow, resembling a single teardrop.
❀ ❀ ❀
“Abbot, hold on to me! You must not let go.”
“I… can’t…”
“Get a grip! Abbot!”
Beop Gye shouted, cutting off Beop Jong’s feeble words. He tore his monk’s robe and tightly bound himself to Beop Jong.
“You must live, Abbot! If not you, then who will bear the burden of what comes after?”
Defeat is inevitable.
No matter how much one cries out or sheds tears of blood, it cannot be changed. The fate of this battlefield has already fallen into Jang Ilso’s hands.
Anyone can cry over defeat and offer their neck. But only Beop Jong can manage this defeat and stop them. At least, that’s what Beop Gye believed.
“I… can’t… live…”
“Sahyeong!”
The title that burst from Beop Gye’s lips was not “Abbot.”
A title long forgotten, yet never forgotten.
“Get a grip, Sahyeong! You are the head of Shaolin! Your life is not yours alone!”
If Beop Gye could, he would bear the burden of this defeat himself.
But he couldn’t. Even if he had the will, he lacked the ability.
Beop Jong must recover from this crushing defeat and save the world from the hands of those wicked bastards. Only he could do it.
So he must survive. No matter the cost.
“You will get out of here alive, absolutely! So hold on to my neck and don’t let go!”
Beop Gye’s eyes turned a deep, furious red.
Regret and self-torment can come later. Even if belated regret burns his soul, even if the postponed self-torment condemns him to an eternal hell.
“Step back!”
Boom!
A formidable force erupted from his remaining arm.
The severed arm was noticeable, but the true grievous wound was the long gash spanning across his side. Yet Beop Gye advanced forward despite the wound that had nearly eviscerated him.
“It’s him!”
“The Abbot of Shaolin!”
Greed filled the eyes of the enemies who saw them.
Just as Gupailbang had been drawn by Jang Ilso, Sapaeryeon, full of desire, was similarly captivated at the sight of them.
Who would pass up the glory of capturing the Abbot of Shaolin?
“Capture him!”
The formation that Ho Gamyeong had devised moved all at once. The enemies, like a landslide, rushed toward Beop Gye. Gritting his teeth, Beop Gye channeled his inner strength into his fist.
“A-mi-ta-bha!”
The Arhat Divine Fist.
Shaolin’s fist technique, befitting its true essence, pushed back the oncoming enemies with tremendous power.
Crack! Crack!
Unable to withstand the recoil of his own punch, Beop Gye gritted his teeth. His wrist screamed in protest, unable to bear the strain. Yet, he ignored the pain of his crumbling fist and struck even harder.
“Ooooooh!”
A soul-scorching cry erupted from him. The path ahead was too treacherous to traverse alone. No matter how much he pushed them back, those blinded by desire continually blocked his way.
His inner strength was nearly depleted. Yet, there was no time for hesitation. Beop Gye relentlessly hurled himself at the enemies.
Boom!
He punched an enemy away.
Boom!
He swept his leg, clearing more foes.
Was this what it was like to be a Humane King [인왕(仁王)] opening a path through the ranks of demons [수라(輸羅)]?*
Battling these fiends, he advanced step by step.
Slash!
As his chest was slashed open, his fist crushed another enemy.
Crack!
At the moment his ribs fractured, his punch vanquished evil.
His consciousness grew faint, and his strength faded away.
Even so, Beop Gye pushed forward, bearing a burden heavier than his own body.
‘O Honored One..’
Boom!
A force from somewhere struck his head.
The impact shattered his skull, and blood flowed from his eyes. His steps did not falter.
‘Now… I understand…’
Merely seeking you cannot achieve it.
Life is a sea of suffering, yet enlightenment is found within it.
Those who do not endure pain and yearn for what they truly desire can never enter the Pure Land.
The enlightenment Beop Gye truly sought was right here.
“Aaaah!”
But Beop Gye resolutely pushed away the enlightenment that was surging towards him.
His soul longed to transcend beyond this place, but his will firmly remained on this filthy earth.
‘It is fine to not understand!’
It was the enlightenment he had craved all his life. Perhaps it was the state of Nirvana that he could hardly dare to hope for. Any practitioner would long for it.
Even so, at this moment, Beop Gye discarded this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Instead, he swung his fist. Committing another act of killing, he accumulated karma in his hands. A sin that hundreds of lifetimes could not wash away, a karma that would trap him in eternal suffering.
Slash!
Something cut across his ankle. It was a sword energy from a distance. Even in his hazy consciousness, he could sense its owner’s presence.
Eventually, Beop Gye tumbled to the ground with Beop Jong.
‘O Honored One..’
He knew.
The Buddha merely observed and did not protect them. If there was something one desired, one must achieve it oneself.
Yet, in this moment, he felt a deep sense of grievance.
‘Do not save my life…’
Beop Gye instinctively twisted his body, turning it. If he fell forward, the blades would rain down on Beop Jong.
The one who must take the blades was none other than himself.
‘Just save the Abbot.’
A fierce blade descended.
Buddha did not reach out to help. He remained indifferent, as silent and distant as the black sky.
‘O Honored One…’
But there were those who would reach out, even if not Buddha himself.
“Elder!”
Boom!
A force erupted from somewhere, sweeping away the merciless attackers.
“Protect the Elder!”
“Save the Abbot!”
Shaolin. Even if their hearts harbored different intentions, the disciples had silently followed. Those Shaolin monks were now rushing to the scene.
“You… all…”
“Go, Elder! We will take care of this!”
“You must save the Abbot!”
These monks, in the moment when the enemy’s attention was on Beop Gye, could have somehow escaped. But instead of protecting their own lives, they came here.
“Go!”
Someone grabbed Beop Gye’s shoulder and lifted him up.
Covered in blood, Beop Gye forced his trembling body to rise and take another step forward.
Everyone who had rushed to his aid would die. They knew their fate better than anyone. Yet they stood protecting Beop Gye’s back.
Thus, there was only one thing Beop Gye could do.
“A…mi-tab…”
The Buddha’s name, which he had chanted countless times, slipped haltingly from his lips.
It was a name he had never reached, despite endless chanting. Yet, it was a name he still had to call upon.
This was a mantra for them, a lament toward someone, and a desperate wish all at once.
He moved forward, bearing the heavy weight he felt on his back with his entire being.
“The Tathagata’s light shines widely [如來光普照]… Dispelling all darkness and ignorance [滅除衆暗冥]…”
The Buddha’s light illuminates everything [불광보조(佛光普照)]. As Beop Gye chanted the lines from the Avatamsaka Sutra [화엄경(華嚴經)], a faint, golden light, as if about to be extinguished, emanated from his body.
It was truly precarious yet majestic.
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