Then who the hell are they? (6)

“Um….”

Can the word ‘shock’ alone fully express the feeling upon seeing this scene?

A vast and barren land had a giant handprint etched into it. It was immense, like the mark left by Pangu [반고(盤古) – mythological figure], and carried a sacred aura as if imbued with the will of Buddha.

Jongli Hyeong’s mouth gaped open.

‘That, that is… Beop Jong.’

The scars engraved into the ground was not what was surprising. No, it was indeed an astonishing sight, but the fact that Beop Jong created that mark made it seem almost natural.

Who is Beop Jong? He is the Abbot of the Thousand-Year-Old Shaolin, revered as the highest authority in Gangho of Central Plains.

Even an elder of Shaolin is evaluated as having martial prowess that matches or surpasses the best fighters of other sects. So, what more can be said of the Abbot of Shaolin?

Of course, one cannot assert that the head of a sect is necessarily the strongest within it, but Beop Jong was recognized for his strength in the aspect of martial prowess as well.

Who could dare deny the fact that Beop Jong was the closest to being the world’s greatest martial artist of the time?

Despite this, Jongli Hyeong’s shock was not due to the power of Beop Jong’s martial arts, but because of the absurdity of its execution.

The seventy-two supreme techniques of Shaolin, which are so difficult that even a single one is hard to master in a lifetime of training. Only a very few, endowed with both talent and the heart of Buddha, are allowed to master these supreme arts.

And yet, these supreme techniques were being displayed with every step!

The movements were so naturally connected that it might be difficult to fully grasp their strength.

But the seventy-two supreme techniques are not all the same martial art. Each of those supreme techniques is a different martial art. Because they are different, the flow of internal energy is different, and the type of internal energy that needs to be drawn upon is also different.

Yet, Beop Jong was seamlessly connecting all these martial arts as if they were different moves within a single martial art.

How proficient in martial arts must one be to achieve such an impossible feat?

‘Is this the true power of Shaolin?’

Jongli Hyeong’s fingertips began to tremble.

If he were to stand before Beop Jong, how many moves could he withstand?

The Abbot of Shaolin. The giant who leads the world.

Had that grand title made him underestimate the true value of Beop Jong as a martial artist?

‘At this rate, even if I try to intervene…’

He couldn’t secure even the slightest justification.

The opponent is the notorious leader of Sapaeryeon. Not someone who would insist on a fair, one-on-one fight. However, if the fight continued to be so one-sided, anyone who intervened would not escape criticism.

Paeng Yeop, on the opposite side, also bit his lip in silence. He was probably thinking the same thing.

‘Damn…’

It was an utterly absurd situation, but now Jongli Hyeong could only hope that Jang Ilso would hold out. If Jang Ilso was defeated too easily, all the glory would go to Shaolin, and Kongtong and Paeng family wouldn’t even be able to reclaim the minimum price for the blood they shed here.

If that happened, they would inevitably be criticized for having sent their disciples to their deaths for no reason.

‘That must never happen!’

He was growing increasingly anxious, but there was no clear solution at the moment. Jongli Hyeong clenched his fists tightly.

‘No matter how infamous Paegun is, against Beop Jong…’

At that very moment.

Thunk.

Jang Ilso, who had been flung aside by Beop Jong’s force, pressed his hand into the ground as if grabbing hold of it.

“Hmm…”

Then he slowly rose to his feet. The makeup that had covered his face was smudged and streaked, his crown had flown off somewhere, and his red robes were torn and covered in dust.

At a glance, he seemed quite defeated.

The visible injuries were not particularly severe. Shaolin’s internal destruction techniques were merciful yet cruel. The martial arts that destroy the opponent’s internal organs must have wreaked havoc inside that sturdy body.

Yet, Jongli Hyeong doubted his eyes at the next moment.

Jang Ilso’s posture and gaze, despite his disheveled appearance, were no different from before. The same boredom, indifference, and languor lingered.

As if these injuries were nothing. No, as if they were an ordinary occurrence for him.

In that instant, Jongli Hyeong felt a chill run down his spine. A strange eeriness spread through his body.

“Oh dear….”

Jang Ilso, as if admiring someone else’s work, uttered an exclamation and leisurely swept back his fallen bangs.

“It’s quite a mess.”

He had been overwhelmingly and miserably pushed back. Yet, there was a definite air of ease in Jang Ilso’s gestures.

Bluffing? Stubbornness? No, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t fabricated.

Even Beop Jong, witnessing this scene, couldn’t hide his expression, his face hardening.

“Maybe it’s because you’re an old bald monk who doesn’t care about appearances… there’s no consideration at all. How can you speak of ‘compassion’ like that?”

Jang Ilso stood up.

Blood dripped from the spot where he had been lying.

“It seems you didn’t become the Abbot of Shaolin by mere chance. I thought you got the position through your smooth talking.”

“Amitabha.”

Beop Jong, chanting the Buddha’s name, watched Jang Ilso with sunken eyes.

Does this man have any room to be leisurely?

No, it can’t be. His attacks clearly landed on Jang Ilso. The wounds on his body and his pale complexion were not lies.

Then what is it? What is the source of this composure?

The situation didn’t add up. But precisely because of that, Beop Jong realized. This composure didn’t come from any remaining physical strength.

‘Is it familiarity?’

If Beop Jong were in the same situation as Jang Ilso, he would be overwhelmed by a sense of defeat. But Jang Ilso didn’t consider such a situation to be anything significant.

He must have faced this countless times.

Beop Jong suddenly understood. How many battles this man had fought. How many stronger opponents he had overcome compared to himself.

From a small sect in Guizhou, Maninbang had become a force that could command the world, crossing countless deadly thresholds along the way.

For someone like him, this situation was probably not that special.

But…

“The strokes of luck that have graced your life so far will not repeat themselves today.”

“…Hmm?”

“Everything has an end. The natural continuation of things is not-“

Ptooey!

Before Beop Jong could finish his sentence, Jang Ilso spat out the blood that had pooled in his mouth. The dark, congealed blood seeped into the ground. Seeing this, Jang Ilso laughed heartily.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. I don’t really like blood, you see.”

“…Paegun.”

His pale eyes calmly watched Beop Jong. Eventually, the corners of his eyes curved leisurely.

“Don’t be so full of yourself. We’ve only just begun, haven’t we?”

Crack.

A noise came from Jang Ilso’s fist.

“Luck, you say…”

Then he began to chuckle. And then, he vanished from his spot as if the ground had swallowed him up.

“Why don’t you check for yourself!”

Boom!

His speed was incredible. Blue flames of internal energy, elongated from his fist, spread out like a pair of wings.

“A futile effort.”

Beop Jong assumed a firm stance with a resolute expression.

Arhat Fist. The foundation of all Shaolin martial arts.

Being fundamental, it was not extraordinary, but precisely for that reason, it was more threatening than any other martial art. The fact that it wasn’t extraordinary meant it had no flaws.

Using a solid martial art with no weaknesses was an excellent choice against the unorthodox martial arts of Jang Ilso. This decision reflected Beop Jong’s determination to subdue Jang Ilso here and now.

Gooong!

Beop Jong spread his legs wide and lowered his stance, watching the charging Jang Ilso.

The weight of his presence was like that of Mount Tai.

But without any hesitation, Jang Ilso flew straight at Beop Jong.

Jang Ilso’s fist shot forward in a straight line. Beop Jong’s firmly set forearm blocked the punch solidly.

Boom!

A tremendous explosion of sound and force engulfed the area, but the outcome was clear. Beop Jong’s steadfast defense perfectly blocked Jang Ilso’s punch. Even Jang Ilso’s fierce internal energy couldn’t penetrate Beop Jong’s powerful resilience.

However, at that moment, Jang Ilso’s hand withdrew at a speed not even visible to the eye and immediately delivered three consecutive punches to Beop Jong’s arm.

Bang! Boom! Bang!

A series of thunderous explosions followed.

Beop Jong’s body remained unshaken, but that was only true for his physical form. The ground beneath him began to crumble under the impact of Jang Ilso’s relentless power.

A brief look of bewilderment flashed in Beop Jong’s eyes.

Shaolin’s fist techniques begin from the lower body. The legs must be firmly grounded, and the upper body merely disperses the power derived from the legs.

But the ground, breaking as if it was soft as tofu, couldn’t sufficiently support his lower body.

It was a fleeting variable.

In a battle at such a high level, even the smallest variable can snowball into a significant factor.

Beop Jong quickly tried to retreat and regain his stance. Jang Ilso, as if expecting this, clung to him like a leech.

A gap so tiny that a normal person would never notice. But Jang Ilso seized that moment like a beast.

“Haaap!”

Beop Jong threw a punch. Twelve rapid strikes cleaved through the air. Simple and swift, nothing extraordinary, yet in Beop Jong’s hands, it became an unrivaled divine skill.

However, the Arhat Fist, executed without solid footing, couldn’t exert its full power.

Thud!

A short impact sound echoed. In reality, it was nearly twelve overlapping strike sounds erupting almost simultaneously.

Jang Ilso, who had absorbed all of Beop Jong’s strikes, had a sinister glint in his eyes, like that of a snake.

“You bastard!”

As Beop Jong tried to extend his leg again, Jang Ilso kicked at him. Beop Jong quickly retracted his extended leg and blocked with his knee, countering Jang Ilso’s strike aimed at his groin.

Boom!

It was a perfect defense, but as a result, Beop Jong’s body rose further into the air.

No matter how much he tried to suppress and endure with his internal energy, it was impossible to ignore the force behind Jang Ilso’s kick.

“Do you know?”

At that moment, Jang Ilso’s chilling voice pierced Beop Jong’s ears.

“No matter how strong you are…”

Fwoosh!

Blue flames erupted from Jang Ilso’s hands.

“If you can’t use it, it’s as good as nothing!”

Jang Ilso’s palm surged towards Beop Jong, like a predator’s strike.

Beop Jong roared, emitting a pure white energy from his fingertips.

One Finger Zen!

It was a good choice. When the level of internal energy is equal, it’s difficult to block a concentrated point of energy. Especially with Beop Jong’s superior internal energy, it should have been unstoppable.

But it was also a foolish choice.

Jang Ilso laughed as he saw the energy flying towards his hand. Then he released the flames from his hand.

Beop Jong’s eyes widened in shock.

‘What?’

Crack!

The sharp and powerful energy easily pierced through Jang Ilso’s hand.

If Jang Ilso had blocked while enforcing his hand with internal strength, he would have been pushed back without being injured. In that case, Beop Jong would have had the time to continue his offensive.

However, Jang Ilso chose to yield instead of resisting.

Though a gaping black hole was drilled into his palm, it robbed Beop Jong of his momentum.

“So naive.”

In that fleeting moment when Beop Jong’s hand was empty after emitting energy, Jang Ilso didn’t miss the opening and enveloped his hand in flames once again.

Those flames shot straight towards Beop Jong’s chest.

Boom!

The blue flaming serpent bit into the chest of the living Buddha [생불(生佛)], imbued with radiant aura.