Return of The Mount Hua – Chapter 1586. So who is it? (6)
Editor: Hoamz
Co-Translator: Xoxo
"This…."
Could the word 'shock' alone truly express all the feelings of witnessing this spectacle?
A gigantic handprint was carved into the vast, barren earth. It was both enormous like a trace left by Pangu (반고(盤古)) and sacred as if imbued with Buddha's will.
(H: Pangu (반고(盤古)). A primordial being and creation figure in Chinese mythology and in Taoism)
Jongni Hyeong's mouth fell open.
'Tha- that's... Bop Jeong.'
The scar engraved on the ground was not what was surprising. No, it was certainly astonishing, but since it was Bop Jeong who created that trace, it felt almost like an expected outcome.
Who was Bop Jeong? He was the bangjang of the Thousand-Year Shaolin, known as the Mount Tai and the North Star of Jungwon martial arts.
Shaolin was a place where even a mere elder was evaluated as being comparable to, or even greater than the greatest master of another sect. What more needed to be said about bangjang of that Shaolin?
Of course, being the head of a sect does not automatically make one the strongest in it, but Bop Jeong was acknowledged as powerful even in the realm of martial prowess.
Who could dare to deny the fact that Bop Jeong was the one closest to being the greatest in the world of the current age?
Still, what shocked Jongni Hyeong was not merely the raw might Beopjeong showed, but the absurd way he wielded it.
The average person would struggle to master even one of the Seventy-Two Unique Martial Arts of Shaolin, even after a lifetime of practice. And among those supreme arts, only a select few of the few, who possessed both talent and a heart for Buddhism, were permitted the highest level of martial arts.
Yet such martial arts were bursting forth with every step he took!
Because the movements flowed so naturally, it might be difficult to fully grasp their power.
But just because they were the Seventy-Two Unique Martial Arts did not mean they were all the same. Each of them represents a distinct martial art. Because they were different, the operation of internal strength was different, and the type of internal strength that had to be drawn up was different.
Yet Bop Jeong was linking them as naturally as if he were using different techniques within a single martial art.
How thoroughly must one have mastered martial arts to perform such impossible feats?
‘Is this the true power of Shaolin?’
Jongni Hyeong's fingertips began to tremble slightly.
If he had stood before Bop Jeong, how many techniques could he have held against him?
Bangjang of Shaolin. The giant who led the world.
Had that enormous name rather made them underestimate the value of Bop Jeong as a 'martial artist'?
‘At this rate, even if I try to interfere…’
He couldn't even secure the minimum justification.
The opponent was the infamous leader of Evil Tyrant Alliance. Not an opponent to stubbornly insist on a fair one-on-one battle. But if the match flowed so one-sidedly, anyone who intervened would be unable to avoid criticism.
On his other side, Peng Ye remained silent, his lips pursed tightly. Perhaps he was thinking the same.
'This….'
Absurd as it was, Jongni Hyeong now had to hope Jang Ilso would put up a fight. If Jang Ilso were to be defeated too easily, all the glory would be monopolized by Shaolin, and Kongtong and Peng Family would not be able to recover even the minimum price of the blood they had shed here.
If that happens, wouldn't he inevitably face criticism for needlessly driving his disciples to their deaths?
'That absolutely cannot happen!'
He was burning with impatience. But he had no clear solution right now. Jongni Hyeong clenched his fist.
'No matter how much of a Paegun he is, against Bop Jeong he's...'
It was then.
Tok.
Jang Ilso, who had been flung back and fallen by Bop Jeong’s fist force, gripped the ground as if grabbing it.
“Hmm….”
Then he slowly rose. The makeup that had covered his face was smudged and erased, and the ceremonial crown that was like his symbol had flown off somewhere and was not visible. His crimson outer robe was torn in places and dust covered him.
At a glance, he looked to have suffered quite a defeat.
And the visible wounds were probably not even among the major ones. Shaolin's internal strength techniques were both merciful and cruel. The martial art that destroys the opponent’s inside would have surely shaken the inside of that sturdy body greatly.
But the next moment, Jongni Hyeong doubted his eyes.
Jang Ilso's disheveled posture and gaze... were hardly different from the beginning. Boredom, weariness, and languor still permeated them.
As if a wound like this was nothing. No, as if this were no different from everyday life for him.
In an instant, Jongni Hyeong felt a chill run down his spine. A strange eeriness spread throughout his body.
"My, my..."
Speaking as though it were someone else’s affair, Jang Ilso lazily brushed back the bangs that had fallen over his face.
"What a mess I've become."
This was right after being pushed back one-sidedly to the point of being miserable. And yet, there was a clear composure in Jang Ilso’s gesture.
A bluff? Stubborn pride? No, no. That is not an act.
At this sight, even Bop Jeong could not compose his expression and hardened his complexion.
“Is it because you’re a decrepit old bald-headed monk who goes around not caring about your external appearance… How inconsiderate. How can you discuss ‘mercy’ like that?”
Jang Ilso rose to his feet.
Blood drips down where he stood.
“Still, it seems you didn't just rise to the position of Shaolin bangjang for nothing. You flap that tongue of yours so well, I thought maybe you'd obtained the position through that talent."
“Amitabha.”
Bop Jeong, who had chanted the Buddha’s name, watched Jang Ilso with sunken eyes.
Could this man truly afford to show composure?
No, that couldn't be. His attacks had definitely landed on Jang Ilso. The wounds engraved on that body and the pale complexion were certainly not false.
Then what was that leisureliness?
The situation didn't add up. And precisely because of that, Bop Jeong was able to realize that this wasn't a matter of the body's remaining strength.
'Is it familiarity?'
If Bop Jeong had been in Jang Ilso's situation, he would not have been able to handle the sense of defeat. But Jang Ilso treated such circumstances as nothing of significant.
Because he had faced them countless times.
He realized anew. How many battles had that person fought. How many stronger opponents than himself he had defeated.
How many lines of death Myriad Man Manor must have crossed, from beginning as a small sect in Guizhou to becoming a force that looked down upon the world.
To him, a situation like this would be nothing particularly special.
However….
“The good fortune in your life until now will not be repeated today.”
“…Hm?”
“All things have their end. What naturally continues is not..."
Before Bop Jeong could even finish, Jang Ilso spat out the blood that had pooled in his mouth. The dark, clotted blood seeped into the ground. Jang Ilso burst into laughter at the sight.
"Ah, my apologies. It was just a bit nauseating. I'm actually not that fond of blood, you see."
“…Paegun.”
Pale eyes quietly gazed at Bop Jeong. Soon, the corners of his eyes curved leisurely.
“There’s no need to be so high-and-mighty. This is just the beginning, isn’t it?”
Kwadeuk.
A grinding noise came from Jang Ilso’s fist.
“Fortune, you say…”
He then chuckled under his breath. Then he vanished from the spot as if he had just fizzled out.
“Why don’t you see for yourself!”
Kuung!
t was a formidable speed. The blue flame enhanced energy that extended from his fist bloomed wide like a pair of wings.
"Useless endeavor."
Bop Jeong assumed his stance with a resolute face.
Arhat Fist. The foundation of all Shaolin fist arts.
It was basic, so it was nothing special, but on the other hand, it was more threatening than any other martial art. To be unspecial means it lacks nothing.
Presenting a martial art without weaknesses was an excellent choice against the unconventional Jang Ilso. And this was also an expression of the will to definitely suppress Jang Ilso here and now.
Goooo!
Bop Jeong, with legs spread wide, lowered his stance and stared at the charging Jang Ilso. Heaviness as if Mount Tai had taken root.
But Jang Ilso flew straight at such Bop Jeong without a shred of hesitation.
Jang Ilso’s fist shot out in a straight line. Then Bop Jeong's firmly raised forearm solidly blocked that fist.
Kwaaang!
A tremendous explosion and an unimaginable shock rippled through the surroundings, but the result was clear. The forearm of Bop Jeong, who had solidified his defense as firmly as Mount Tai, had perfectly blocked Jang Ilso’s fist. Even Jang Ilso’s raging flame enhanced energy could not pierce Bop Jeong’s mighty internal strength.
But in that instant, Jang Ilso's hand withdrew at invisible speed, then immediately drove three consecutive punches into Bop Jeong’s arm.
Kung! Kwaang! Kung!
Tremendous explosion sounds erupted consecutively. Beop Jeong’s body still did not waver, but that was only the story of his body. The ground beneath him, unable to withstand the downward force of Jang Ilso’s pounding fists, began to collapse.
A brief bewilderment appeared in Bop Jeong’s eyes.
Shaolin's fist starts from the lower body. The lower body was firmly fixed, and the upper body simply received that power and dispersed it.
But the ground that had instantly crumbled like tofu could not sufficiently support his lower body.
It was literally a fleeting variable.
And in the fierce battles of those who have reached such realms, one such minor variable tends to swell greatly like a rolling snowball.
Bop Jeong quickly pulled his body back and tried to assume his stance again. Jang Ilso, as if he had already expected it, stuck to him like a leech.
It was an opening so fleeting that an ordinary person could never have caught it. But Jang Ilso clung to that fleeting moment like a beast.
“Haap!”
Bop Jeong drove his fist forward in one stroke. Twelve fist strikes cleaved the empty air. It was a thrust that was nothing special other than being simple and swift, but as it was unleashed from Bop Jeong’s hand, it became a peerless divine technique.
However, the Arhat Fist executed without properly grounding his feet couldn't fully exhibit its power.
Kung!
A short impact echoed. In truth, it was nearly twelve successive strikes overlapping at once.
Having received all Bop Jeong's blows, Jang Ilso’s eyes emitted a wicked light like a serpent.
“You wretch!”
Just as Bop Jeong moved to step in again, Jang Ilso lashed upward with a kick. At the kicking technique from Jang Ilso aiming for his groin, Bop Jeong quickly retrieved the leg he was extending and blocked with his knee.
Kwang!
Though it was a perfect defense, in exchange, Beop Jeong’s body floated a bit higher into the air.
No matter how much he suppressed and endured with internal strength, it was impossible to descend while ignoring the force contained in Jang Ilso's foot tip.
“Do you know?”
In that instant, Jang Ilso’s chilling voice wormed into Bop Jeong’s ears.
“No matter how strong you are.”
Hwaaaaak!
Blue flames surged up from Jang Ilso’s hands.
"If you can't use it, it's as good as not having it!"
Jang Ilso's palm surged toward Bop Jeong. Just like the kick of a predator.
Bop Jeong let out a roar while emitting snow-white finger force from his fingertips.
The One-Finger Zen! (일지선(一指禪))
It was a good choice. When internal strength levels are equal, palm energy finds it difficult to block finger force concentrated on a single point. What more needs to be said of Bop Jeong's finger force, whose internal strength was superior?
But this was also a foolish choice.
Jang Ilso smiled as he saw the finger energy flying toward his hand. Then, shockingly, he dispersed the flame enhanced energy gathered in his palm.
Bop Jeong’s eyes flew wide open.
'What?'
Kwadeuk!
The sharp and strong finger force easily pierced through Jang Ilso's hand.
If Jang Ilso had blocked with a hand filled with internal strength, it would not have been pierced and his body would have been pushed back. And had that happened, Bop Jeong would have bought time to continue his assault.
But Jang Ilso chose to give in instead of resisting.
Because of this, a black hole was pierced through his palm center (장심(掌心)), but in return, he stole Bop Jeong’s time.
“How naive.”
The moment the hand that had unleashed the finger force was left empty and paused, Jang Ilso did not miss that momentary gap and wrapped flames around his hand again.
And those flames exploded in a straight line into Beop Jeong’s chest.
Kwaaaaang!
A blue flame serpent bit into the chest of the Living Buddha (생불(生佛)) imbued with brilliant Buddha energy.
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