Return of The Mount Hua – Chapter 1585. So who is it? (5)
Editor: Hoamz
Co-Translator: Xoxo
Jang Ilso slowly wiped the blood flowing from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.
Bop Jeong's gaze watching this was infinitely heavy.
"This ends here, Paegun."
Though his voice rang as heavy as his gaze, Jang Ilso's eyes looking at such a Bop Jeong held light contempt and frivolous mockery.
"Hmm, I suppose words are unnecessary anyway?"
From the moment they faced each other like this, only one thing remained.
It doesn't matter what intention had driven them or what hidden meanings they harbored.
If Bop Jeong decides to kill Jang Ilso, he would become a hero who prevented calamity in the martial world. On the other hand, if Jang Ilso kills Bop Jeong, won't he be recognized as the first Tyrant (효웅(梟雄)) in the history of Evil Sects to trample on Ten Great Sects and kill Bangjang of Shaolin?
(H: Tyrant (효웅(梟雄)) refers to a formidable and cunning hero or leader who possesses both great talent and ambitious schemes, typically carrying connotations of dominance and ruthless ambition.)
The intentions hidden behind it were of no meaning at all. What remained was the result. The simple result of whose hand would grasp the opponent's head first.
"Don't we both need each other?"
As Bop Jeong's tone became more blunt, Jang Ilso let out a light laugh as if pleased by this.
“You may need my head, but I don’t need yours. What would I even do with that withered old head? Even a dog wouldn’t eat it.”
Bop Jeong’s brow twitched faintly.
He was bangjang of Shaolin Sect. Where could he have ever suffered such vicious insult? Though he was called the leader of Evil Sects, that bastard's frivolity had crossed the line.
“What I ‘need’ is not something like that. What I ‘want’ is not something like that either.”
“…Then what is it you want, Paegun.”
Jang Ilso's fingertips, where blood was drying and crusting, twitched slightly.
"Well, that's something you cannot give. But at least you’ll provide me with some amusement. When your solemn mask is torn away and your true self exposed, I’m curious, what kind of face will you make?”
“Amitabha.”
Bop Jeong let out a low chant.
Indeed, further conversation was meaningless. Both he and Jang Ilso knew this.
Udeudeuk.
Bop Jeong's fist slowly tightened. It held an ample space within. As if he had grasped the empty air (것(空手)) itself.
Shaolin’s unique fist art (권(拳)). A fist that had discarded the intent to harm the opponent, and held the mercy of subjugation. No matter what villain he faced, the fist of Shaolin did not change.
But in Bop Jeong's eyes glancing down at his lightly clenched fist, there was a strange emptiness.
Was there meaning in this?
Dharma was infinite, and its teachings were endless. But how futile was it to discuss mercy with that man?
At this moment, was the reason his lifelong beliefs and learnings felt useless because Dharma was incomplete? Or because his learning was still endlessly insufficient?
Bop Jeong couldn't tell. He simply...
Squeeze.
Clenched his fist slightly tighter.
He couldn't even count how long it had been since he had shared his fists with someone. It was so distant now that he couldn't remember.
Not only life-and-death decisive battles, but even light sparring seemed to have been over ten years ago.
He never imagined he would have another chance in his lifetime to fight a life-and-death battle with someone.
Had his martial arts (무(武)), which had once been called the Divine Fist (신권(神拳)) of Mount Song and had gathered the praise of the entire world, lost its luster?
Perhaps that man would give him the answer to that question.
“Your preparation takes quite some time. Have your hands grown heavy because you don't have many days left to live?"
Bop Jeong too had once had such times. A time when he believed he could achieve anything and do as he willed.
But after experiencing the passage of time, he had finally come to understand. That if there is something you truly wish to achieve, you must also know how to endure and wait.
"Just a moment. Just one instant.”
“…Hm?”
“The fact that you could not endure that is your fault, Paegun.”
Thud.
As his words ended, Bop Jeong's foot lightly stepped on the ground.
Not Shaolin's characteristic strong step, but literally a light step as if casually thrown. Simultaneously, his fist followed as naturally as flowing water. A truly concise extension.
Thuuung!
At that moment, Jang Ilso's large body was flung backward rapidly as if struck by a giant hammer. His head was thrown back so far it looked as if it would break.
“That…!”
The onlookers were so shocked they could barely let out a scream.
‘Air-Splitting Palm?’
A realm that any martial artist of fist art who could handle internal energy would eventually reach. The foundation (기초(基礎)) of advancement that sent one's fist force (권력(拳力)) flying across empty space.
Looking at this alone, it wasn't particularly remarkable.
What was surprising was not the Air-Splitting Palm itself, but that he could launch an Air-Splitting Palm of this much power with a single light gesture.
How strong must his internal energy be, how masterful (통달(通達)) must he be with fist arts to perform such an unbelievable attack?
And… if he could produce this much power with a mere Air-Splitting Palm, then how strong would his fist power be when he unleashed it with intent!
Geugeugeuk!
Jang Ilso’s feet dug into the ground, leaving claw-like furrows in the earth.
Having retreated for quite some time before finally steadying himself, Jang Ilso slowly pulled up his waist that had bent back as if it might break.
Drip.
Blood trickled from the corner of Jang Ilso's lips. Even this seemed bizarre and exaggerated.
“Amitabha.”
As if declaring he would not be swayed by such wickedness, Bop Jeong devoutly chanted. The disciples of Ten Great Sects were all overwhelmed by his presence.
Bangjang of Shaolin Bop Jeong.
His power, once spoken of in the world under the name Mount Song Divine Fist (숭산신권(嵩山神拳)), was revealed as it truly was before all under heaven.
Faced with that formidable presence, none could help but hold their breath and tremble.
"The Three Poisons (삼독(三毒)) are the three afflictions that make life into a sea of suffering (고해(苦海))."
“....”
"Greed ((貪慾)), hatred (진에(瞋恚),), and ignorance (우치(愚癡)). You have coveted what should not be coveted, and harbored envy and jealousy toward all things in the world."
A bright blue killing intent pooled in Jang Ilso's eyes.
"Greed and hatred... Then ignorance. What is my ignorance? What do you think I failed to understand?"
"You should have known. That the world you live in is not everything."
“Hahahahahahahahat!”
Jang Ilso burst into mad laughter as if he had heard the most magnificent joke.
“Hihat! Heuhahahahat! Now that’s a masterpiece of an answer. So my mortal sin was not knowing such a great personage was here? Hahahahahaha!"
Paaaaat!
As Jang Ilso waved his hand, the rings that had flown in all directions flew back into his hand. After leisurely putting the rings back on his fingers and examining his hand, Jang Ilso slowly clenched his fist.
Kagagagagak!
An eerie sound of metal grinding against metal echoed forth.
“Yes… Perhaps you are right.”
Jang Ilso, slowly lowering both hands, began walking toward Bop Jeong with a sinister face.
Momentum that looked down upon everything in the world. Truly an Overlord. (패군(覇君) /Paegun)
Though it had yet to be proven whether his martial art could compare to that Bop Jeong, his momentum was in no way inferior to Bop Jeong's.
“Then you should know this clearly.”
“....”
“The reason you will die… is because of that disgusting nature of yours, which deceives even yourself by pretending to be solemn.”
Jang Ilso smiles brightly.
"Understand?"
That word was the signal.
Kwang!
Kwaang!
Both Jang Ilso and Bop Jeong kicked the ground at the same time.
Evil Sects Greatest Fist and Righteous Sects Greatest Fist.
The fists of the two began to roar toward each other with the utmost ferocity.
Kwaaaaa!
A violent storm of energy swept in all directions.
So fierce that even those who had been desperately fighting to the death turned their heads for a moment.
Undulating golden radiance and blue evil energy (사기(邪氣)).
Everyone present sensed instantly whose energies these were.
Evil Sects Greatest Fist and Righteous Sects Greatest Fist. A life-and-death battle where those two faced each other to kill. How common could an opportunity be to witness such a confrontation with one's own eyes throughout an era?
Moreover, whether strong or weak, all who practiced martial arts were captivated by that single character, Mu (무(武), martial). Inevitably, their eyes were drawn there.
But unfortunately, this place was a battlefield.
“Aaaaaaaaaargh!”
A sword swung by someone who had come to their senses took the life of one who had been entranced.
That death cry echoed like the sound of pottery breaking on the floor, shattering the battlefield that had been momentarily frozen.
"Dieeeee!"
"You filthy Evil Sects bastard!"
Blood-soaked weapons once again crashed toward one another, and boiling blood splattered in every direction.
Though a once-in-a-lifetime confrontation was happening right beside them, no one could focus on it.
Whether those who valued their lives, those swept up in the battlefield's madness, or those simply faithful to given commands—all had no choice but to concentrate on cutting, stabbing, and tearing at those visible before their eyes.
Thus, this unprecedented life-or-death duel, occurring amid such a gathered multitude, was paradoxically conducted in utter solitude.
Kuung!
Fist met fist.
Bop Jeong's fist (권(拳)) imbued with golden Buddha light instantly deflected Jang Ilso's fist wrapped in blue enhanced energy.
“Amitabha!”
Bop Jeong's fists instantly drew more than ten fist shadows in the air.
Demon-Subduing Vajra Fist (항마금강권(降魔金剛拳))!
Fist shadows as large as human torsos, gleaming with golden light, flew toward Jang Ilso at lightning speed.
Paat.
Jang Ilso stepped with footwork that staggered as if drunk. The fist shadows might tear his fluttering robes but couldn't touch his body. Jang Ilso had managed to dodge all the incoming fist force.
But it was too early to feel relieved.
Kwaaang!
At that moment, an immense impact struck Jang Ilso's chest.
“Keuk!”
Fresh blood gushed from his mouth as he retreated.
Hundred Step Divine Fist. In terms of speed alone, no martial art under heaven even qualified to be compared to it. Therefore, it was a legendary fist and peerless fist that dared earn the name ‘Divine Fist’ (신권(神拳)), unfolding in succession.
Since Hundred Step Divine Fist was forcibly executed before the Demon-Subduing Vajra Fist's energy had even subsided, Bop Jeong focused on speed rather than power. It was a fist punched with the will to not give the opponent even a chance to dodge, and he completely achieved that intention.
Kuuung!
Now Hundred Step Divine Fist, with even greater power, unfolded in succession.
Every time Jang Ilso kicked off the ground and dodged, the ground in that spot was instantly gouged out as if a meteor had fallen.
“Hah!”
Jang Ilso widened his eyes, laughed, and spread his hand wide. The rings on his fingers, imbued with internal strength, rotated fiercely and surged toward Bop Jeong.
However!
“Amitabha.”
Tang! Tatatatang!
Not a single one of those rings touched Bop Jeong's body. It was because of the finger energy that shot out from Bop Jeong’s fingers. The Finger Flicking Divine Skill (탄지신통(彈指神通)), which Shaolin boasted to the world, had deflected all the incoming rings.
A skill beyond imagination, deflecting rings that flew in faster than arrows shot from a strong bow with a finger technique.
Even Jang Ilso's eyes widened before that tremendous spectacle.
Thud.
Bop Jeong's feet lightly kicked the ground. Simultaneously, his body divided into nine, each assuming a posture symbolizing the Buddha.
A scene as if a Buddha painting had been drawn on the canvas of the world.
This was the manifestation of the advanced divine technique Lotus Platform Nine Grades (탄지신통(彈指神通)), which could only be learned when Shaolin's divine techniques reached their peak, recreated through Bop Jeong's body.
Kuung!
Bop Jeong appeared as if manifesting right before Jang Ilso and struck his chest.
Kaang!
But the name of Paegun Jang Ilso was no empty title.
His senses, heightened to their utmost limit, faithfully responded even to Bop Jeong's unimaginable attack. His crossed wrists, more precisely the bracelets on them, blocked Bop Jeong's palm.
Then Bop Jeong's hand, curved like a dragon's claw, grabbed Jang Ilso's bracelet.
Kwang!
Finally, Bop Jeong’s palm plunged into Jang Ilso’s solar plexus.
With his right hand, he pulled the grasped bracelet while striking the chest with his left hand.
Though an impact that twisted his entire internal organs assaulted him, at that moment, Jang Ilso violently twisted his head as if he was struck in the face rather than the stomach.
Paaaaat!
A white finger force narrowly grazed Jang Ilso’s cheek.
One Finger Zen (일지선(一指禪)).
Bop Jeong, who had subdued Jang Ilso's hand with Dragon Binding Hand (박룡수(縛龍手)), had opened his hand in an instant and launched the finger technique of One Finger Zen.
Blood began to spread across Jang Ilso’s cheek from the irregular attack.
But Bop Jeong's attack did not end.
Kwang!
He struck with his knee the inner leg of Jang Ilso, which was spread wide to withstand the shock. Simultaneously, he rammed into Jang Ilso with his shoulder with the momentum like Mount Tai.
Kuuuuung!
A sound as if a great mountain were collapsing echoed, and Jang Ilso’s body was sent flying backward.
“Ami-ta-bha!”
Bop Jeong brought his palms together and then stretched out his right hand toward the flying Jang Ilso.
The golden palm shadow (장영(掌影)) instantly multiplied in size, then flew toward Jang Ilso like the hand of Guanyin (관음(觀音)) annihilating demons.
Kwaaaaaaaaang!
With a terrifying explosion, a massive shockwave swept in every direction.
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