“Ah— Th-That is, I mean…”

“You still haven’t awakened to Shakyamuni, the World-Honored One’s teachings. Tsk, tsk…”

Gong-eop pressed his fingers to his brow and sighed.

Then Cheongak fired a jab at Seon-geung.

“Hah! You were about to lose, so you called your master!”

“I did not!”

And in that instant, Gong-eop brought the wooden gong down on Seon-geung’s crown.

Not the small striker used to tap it.

The wooden gong itself.

CLACK—!!!

A sound as clear and vast as a line of holy doctrine rang out across Mount Song.

At that distant, crystalline pain, the young warrior-monks shrank back.

“Didn’t I tell you not to use that strange way of speaking, Seon-geung?”

“B-But if I’m to carry proper dignity—”

“What dignity are you talking about? You still can’t let go of that gaze?”

“I’m sorry…”

Seon-geung was a talented boy.

They had taken him in when he was a baby abandoned below Mount Song, and before anyone realized it, he’d grown this much.

But for exactly that reason, there were problems, too.

A child without parents.

Little children could become thoughtlessly cruel.

Boasting about their parents in front of him—things like that.

So Seon-geung grew up always carrying an inferiority complex.

Him, with no parents. Him, with no parents at all…

And Mount Song—Shaolin—protected him.

They taught him martial arts and sutras, and whenever he showed talent, they cherished him and loved him.

And that started to blend into a sense of superiority.

A Shaolin warrior-monk of the thousand-year Shaolin, the source of all martial arts under the Nine Provinces!

And among them, a young genius everyone pinned their hopes on!

How sweet those words were.

Seon-geung filled his pain and lack with that sweet superiority.

Even that strange way of speaking he used whenever he saw an Outsider came from the same place.

“Apologize, Seon-geung.”

“…Sorry.”

Only after he returned to the speech of an ordinary boy did Gong-eop tap the wooden gong again.

Then he looked down at Cheongak and Soyak and spoke gently.

“He’s still lacking. Thank you for keeping him company, benefactors.”

“…It’s nothing, Monk Gong-eop.”

“If anything makes you uncomfortable, call for me anytime. Then I’ll be going….”

Gong-eop wasn’t ignorant of Seon-geung’s heart.

But what could he do.

That kind of superiority would not be long in staining Seon-geung with evil.

With the evil of chosen-people arrogance.

Gong-eop turned and left as he was.

But the Flame-Saber Lord was watching them from a distance.

“Aren’t you holding them back too hard?”

“What do you mean, Flame-Saber Lord?”

“Boys that age can be competitive.”

“Amitabha…”

Gong-eop tapped the wooden gong.

After a moment, he opened his mouth again.

“Seon-geung and Cheongak are about even in skill.”

“So if you put them together, won’t their competitiveness flare and push them to improve?”

“Right now isn’t the time for Seon-geung to push forward.”

He turned around.

In the eyes of the Flame-Saber Lord and Gong-eop, three figures were visible.

Seon-geung, Cheongak, Soyak.

They were bickering over who was stronger, but…

They looked fairly harmonious.

“If he wins, he’ll get smug. If he loses, he’ll nurse vengeance.”

“Both ways are a loss.”

“Yes. For Seon-geung to break his wall—and before that, to break past his own past…”

Other warrior-monks joined the three.

Once sparring was forbidden, they started inventing a different game.

And then, leaving only one behind, they suddenly all bolted off at once.

“He needs to calm his heart with good friends, and look back at himself.”

“Truly, that sounds like a teaching of the Buddhist path.”

*****

Hide-and-seek began.

But Soyak didn’t join.

She simply sat on the main hall porch of the temple and watched the children play.

That was all.

Had three or four two-hour watches passed like that?

Someone offered her tea from beside her.

Soyak didn’t startle, because she’d already sensed the approach.

“Thank you, Monk.”

“You knew I was coming, benefactor?”

“Yes. I heard your footsteps.”

It was roasted and dried dark tea.

She couldn’t call it rare, but the aroma was deep and nutty.

Soyak quietly inhaled the scent once, then drank in silence.

“You seem to like tea.”

“I drank it quite a lot when I was young.”

“Then you must have been born to a good family.”

“…Yes. It was a good family.”

Her father and mother’s faces wouldn’t fade.

Not with the nightmares that came every night.

She knew she would have to resolve it someday.

That, too, was a Heart Demon—leave it alone, and Deviated Fire and Demonic Invasion would come.

And yet, if she didn’t even have that, it felt like she would truly forget them.

Soyak knew how fragile human memory was.

She couldn’t even remember the faces of a few attendants she’d once been close to.

“You must have gone through something painful.”

“…Yes.”

“Amitabha. They must have been reborn into paradise.”

Gong-eop didn’t pry further.

Everyone had a sad past.

The death of parents.

The death of a lover.

“Do you have no interest in sparring?”

“It’s not that I have no interest, it’s…”

Soyak quietly drew Falling Blossom Tranquil Edge tight against her chest.

Gong-eop guessed easily.

That it was a keepsake.

“It just makes me wonder—do we really need to fight?”

“So it isn’t fun for you.”

“Most of the time, a fight doesn’t even form.”

A low, small voice.

She was deliberately making sure the young warrior-monks running around—or Cheongak—couldn’t hear.

She was young, but her mind ran deep.

Gong-eop smiled and lightly tapped the wooden gong.

Maybe it was because he’d breathed internal power into the small striker.

Or maybe it was because the tea’s scent was fresh.

But every time Soyak heard the sound, she felt her mind clear.

“Monk Gong-eop, your wooden gong’s sound is truly pure.”

“Because I learned a good internal method from my master.”

“May I ask what you learned?”

“Of course. It’s something I can boast about anywhere. It’s the Prajna Great Ability, called Shaolin’s pride.”

The Prajna Great Ability.

Calling it Shaolin’s most profound internal art wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

The internal method most suited to learning every divine art and ultimate technique Shaolin prided itself on.

You had to learn that to learn higher martial arts like the Adamantine Indestructible Body Art or the Arhat Divine Fist.

“As expected, Monk, you were one of Shaolin’s prodigies.”

“I’ve heard the stories. But how could I compare to benefactor Soyak?”

“Stories…?”

“You defeated the young clan lord of the Namgung Clan, didn’t you.”

Were words really able to travel a thousand miles without feet.

Rumors spread with terrifying speed.

At this rate, in about a week, every gossip-hungry wanderer in the martial world would know.

“It’s already reached Henan…”

“Wasn’t he the young clan lord acknowledged by the Sword Sovereign—the youngest ever to master the Sovereign Sword Form?”

“…Is that so.”

“You defeated that Heavenly Sword, Namgung Seon. Of course everyone’s excited.”

If the strongest was always the same person, it got boring.

How sweet and tasty would this be as bait for those who craved stories.

And what about those who’d seen the spar with their own eyes?

Just the tale-bundles they’d pour out over dinner tables could buy them meals for nearly a month.

Soyak let out a heavy sigh.

And in that moment—

The door behind her burst open.

BANG!

Soyak’s eyes widened.

It was the room Cheonjeong was in.

“Head Senior?”

“Soyak… is that you.”

“Yes. It’s Soyak. Are you all right?”

“My vision isn’t good. The world looks… hazy…”

Cheonjeong didn’t see the threshold.

His foot caught.

Soyak launched herself.

She wrapped an arm around Cheonjeong’s waist, slid one foot half a step back, and braced.

Only then did she barely stop him from falling.

“…I’m sorry.”

“It’s n-not— Head Senior…”

Cheonjeong held on to Soyak while he found his balance again.

Then, as if feeling for it, he found where her head was and patted it.

Watching, Gong-eop spoke.

“The killing intent of the Instant-Kill Certain-Death Palm damaged your body, Cheonjeong.”

“Ah. So you were here. Then do I have to live like this from now on?”

It would’ve been natural for resentment or fury to burst out.

But Cheonjeong’s voice was far from those emotions.

Calm, gentle.

He even sounded… relieved.

“Fortunately, no, benefactor.”

“Ah, is that so.”

“Yes. The killing intent left in your body climbed along the marrow and harmed your eyes first.”

The Buddhist path taught great compassion.

It forbade killing and embraced all things.

Meaning it was the perfect counter to killing intent.

Even the Assassin Organization’s martial arts couldn’t leave lasting aftereffects against a profound Shaolin warrior-monk.

“I’ll steadily breathe the internal power of the Prajna Great Ability into you and wear it down, so don’t worry.”

“I heard… your disciple as well…”

“If you mean Seon-geung, the Abbot is watching over him. Don’t worry, benefactor.”

Shaolin’s Abbot, Abbot Gwanggyeong.

Also called the Radiant Maitreya, a warrior-monk of the Transformation Realm.

If he was the one caring for Seon-geung, then Seon-geung was receiving devotion beyond anything Gong-eop himself could offer.

Only then did Cheonjeong let out a breath of relief.

“Head Senior. Then please go back inside and lie down again.”

“Soyak, don’t push me.”

“This time, I will not follow Head Senior’s orders.”

No matter what Cheonjeong said, Soyak gripped his sleeve tightly and dragged him into the room.

Cheonjeong followed as if he couldn’t win against her.

Only after Soyak pulled the blanket up to his chin did she finally let out a breath of relief.

“Were you that worried about me.”

“Don’t throw your body in like that again, Head Senior.”

“How could I stand by and watch my junior sister come to harm?”

“…I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

Cheonjeong patted Soyak’s head as she knelt by his bed.

Then he spoke softly—kindly giving an order to send her away.

“All right. I understand, so go out and spend time with them.”

“…Still.”

“Now, now. If you don’t, I’ll get up and walk around again.”

“…Okay.”

Only then did Soyak stand.

Gong-eop let out a quiet chuckle as he closed the door for her.

Only then was Cheonjeong left alone…

And clutching his throbbing chest, he screamed a soundless scream.

Chapter 56

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