Chapter 146 Museong (4)

Chapter 146 Museong (4)

A very brief moment of silence flowed.

Beneath the fallen mask of the Great Monk Museong, the face of a wretchedly shabby old man was revealed.

Sensing the changed atmosphere, the Great Monk Museong hastily moved his lips.

“Th-this is…”

“……”

The words flowed out in a time nearly as brief as a blink. But Master Munjeong’s heart had already hardened long ago.

‘Master Museong wielding demonic energy? That man is a fraud!’

Master Munjeong clenched his right hand tightly.

The pitch-black demonic energy emanating from Master Museong felt like it was swirling inside his nostrils.

“How dare someone reveal demonic energy at the main temple!”

At those words, Master Musung realized the situation had completely gone awry.

If this continued, he would face a pincer attack from the Shaolin Temple, whom he had trusted as an ally.

Master Musung urgently withdrew the demonic energy inward.

-Disciple!

At those words, Master Munjeong seemed overwhelmed by a surge of betrayal and rage, realizing he had been deceived until just now.

-Who dares call you a disciple! I know no Buddhist monk who wields demonic energy!

A silver-gray flame began to take root in Master Munjeong’s throat—more precisely, in each bead of the prayer beads hanging there.

When Master Museong sensed the impending battle and closed his eyes, only to open them again.

Master Munjeong was already clutching the prayer beads in his fist, murmuring Amitabha Buddha.

The light rippling in his pupils resembled the distant, ethereal glow one might see only in paintings.

“What are you all doing! Go to the Gyejiwon and Nahanjeon immediately!”

The harsh roar from Monk Munjeong swept through the area, and one young monk, belatedly coming to his senses, scrambled to leave his position.

Gyu Yangjeok watched this sequence of events unfold, a sneer curling one side of his mouth.

“How about that.”

“…You bastard!”

Monk Museong recalled several martial arts techniques, trying to figure out how the mask had been shattered.

But it was already too late to salvage the situation.

Gritting his teeth, Master Museong swung his staff, intent on swiftly dispatching Gu Yangjeok who stood in his way.

Whoosh!

The fierce internal energy felt heavy enough to crush a mountain, the fist pushing back the air as it shot toward Gu Yangjeok’s Baihui acupoint.

Too swift and precise for an old man’s body.

Gu Yangji felt a chill at Master Wuseong’s strike, yet his smile did not falter.

He had too many allies for that.

Sensing movement behind him, Gu Yangji sidestepped to the left.

Clang!

The sword that blocked the heavy strike trembled violently, transmitting the shock to its wielder.

Yet its owner, Yu Zhangming, approached Gu Yangji’s side with an expression of utter calm.

Then he met Gu Yangji’s gaze.

Telepathy, or words.

Neither was exchanged. Master Musung’s power was too formidable for that.

“…Hmph.”

Swish.

Gu Yangjie took a deep breath, adopting the stance of the Left Sword.

Yu Zhangming, no doubt, had retrieved the Dragon-Roaring Sword and was waiting for his move.

He simply stepped forward with his right foot.

That was enough.

Between brothers, long words were unnecessary.

“Go!”

Master Museng let out a battle cry and struck out with both hands simultaneously.

His left hand wielded the essence of Shaolin, the Eighteen Hands of Bodhidharma, while his right hand contained the profound technique of the Piercing Hand Method, capable of piercing even blades.

And what of his lower body?

It radiated a flexibility that suggested he could advance and retreat at will. A single misstep in countering would shatter one’s sternum.

Seeing this, Gu Yangji swung his sword a beat too late.

Shh-aak!

The blade, imbued with the plum blossom sword’s characteristic brilliance, flew toward Master Wuseong’s left elbow.

But Master Wuseong did not halt his attack.

No, instead, pivoting on his left foot, he twisted his entire body toward Gu Yangji.

“…The Iron Mountain Strike!”

Yu Zhangming shuddered at the sight of Master Wuseng instantly altering his technique to push him down.

If it were some insignificant martial artist, it might be different, but when a master like Wuseng Daishi unleashed Iron Mountain Strike, it was nothing short of a life-stealing blow.

And now, when he was genuinely trying to kill Gu Yangji…

Yu Zhangming’s expression hardened.

“You mean it.”

Yu Zhangming’s words were filled with resignation. But his sword was different.

The realm of the fragrant plum blossom.

The realm he had reached without understanding had advanced through the White Danxian, finally blossoming into a single flower.

“……!”

Sensing this, Moseong Daesa halted his Iron Mountain Strike midway, stepped back with his right foot, and retreated.

The abrupt stop caused black blood to rise to the corners of his mouth.

Concealing his demonic energy and forcibly drawing upon his Buddhist energy was already taxing enough; continuing the fight like this would surely lead to a crushing defeat.

“Where on earth did these bastards come from……!”

Just as Moseong Daesa took a step back and sighed in frustration, Munjeong Daesa’s shout rang out.

“Arhats, open the Buddha’s Shadow Gate!”

‘The Arhats have already assembled.’

Spitting out the blood pooled at his lips, Moseong Daesa smiled bitterly.

“The laws of Shaolin are truly unforgiving. Even I, who devoted my entire life to the main temple, am being cast aside like a used rag!”

At that cry, the venerable monk leading the Arhats, Gyejiwon, flinched.

Truthfully, being summoned here while cultivating his practice was already puzzling enough; that the enemy was Master Museong was even more strange.

As the senior monk of Gyejiwon glanced at Master Munjeong, Master Museong seized the moment and roared.

“What illusions are you all seeing! Do you intend to stand by while a martial artist of the Huashan Sect traps this humble monk?”

A fiery aura, too intense for mere words, swirled around him, carried by his speech.

Even Master Munjeong was momentarily bewildered.

One who practiced demonic arts could never, ever master Taoist or Buddhist martial arts.

Far from mastery, it was only natural their bloodlines would twist, turning them into invalids.

But what of Master Museong?

Was he not effortlessly controlling a fury that a lifetime of cultivation wouldn’t suffice to master?

The doubt that had crept up quietly was turning into belief, subtly shaping the situation.

The thought that Master Museng’s reputation couldn’t possibly be tarnished also contributed to this.

Watching this, Gu Yangjie fidgeted with his fingers.

‘I expected as much.’

No matter how much they exposed the demonic energy, shattered the mask, and revealed the true form, this was still the Shaolin Temple.

If Master Museng’s honor fell, Shaolin Temple would fall too. They had no choice but to side with him.

From the sect’s perspective, it was easier to persecute a mere late-stage cultivator like himself.

Gu Yangji chuckled softly at Master Museng’s excuse about having suffered facial burns.

“Isn’t there something more certain than a hundred words?”

“……”

“Try binding Master Musung with the Fire-Eye Gate. Then I’ll believe it for certain.”

He didn’t know exactly how he’d fused demonic energy and fire energy into one body, but it was clear he couldn’t overcome the power of the Fire-Eye Gate.

If he could, he wouldn’t have been detected by the Diamond Fist Armor either.

At those words, the ease vanished from Master Musung’s face.

“Venerable Master Museng, are you afraid?”

“……”

As Venerable Master Museng silently glared at him, Gu Yangjie clenched his fist tightly.

That bastard must have realized his retreat was now cut off.

If so, he had only two courses of action left.

Kill them all.

Or escape from here.

Gu Yangjie wiped the sweat from his left hand onto his robe, steeled his resolve.

“Seems you are afraid after all.”

Whether he had made his choice or not, Master Museong’s gaze shifted.

“…For this mere bloodstain to ruin my grand scheme.”

Master Museng’s pupils slit vertically, distorting into a grotesque shape.

“You shall pay for this with blood and life.”

Kwaaah!

The demonic energy erupting from Master Museng’s entire body instantly engulfed the entire Shaolin Temple grounds.

It was as if Mara, the demonic force spoken of in Buddhist teachings, had descended upon this world.

Its momentum threatened to darken the heavens, twisting the faces of the Arhats forming the Buddha’s Gate into despair.

Then Master Museong shouted.

“I am one of the Eight Demons! The mask of the Buddha, the God-Slaying Demon!”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than another mask covered the God-Slaying Demon’s face.

Seeing this, Gu Yangjie recalled the Black Dragon—or more precisely, the mask that had once covered its face.

‘So that is the mark of the Eight Demons!’

A chill ran up his spine, making Gu Yangjie shudder.

Yoo Jang-myeong also shook his head, as if resisting the roar of the Buddha-Slaying Demon.

And the Buddha-Slaying Demon did not miss this opening.

‘I must quickly dispose of this bastard and smash the Fire Spirit Gate!’

Kwoong!

The Unkillable Demon God struck first.

He had anticipated that Yu Jang-myeong might be as strong as Gu Yang-jeok’s Wu Wei, or perhaps even stronger.

If left alive, he would surely become a formidable enemy later.

The Unkillable Demon God swung his arm without hesitation.

Clang!

The Demon King’s hand collided with the sword, sending a sharp ringing sound echoing through the air.

“…Guh!”

For a moment, he nearly stumbled backward.

Gu Yangjeok let out a faint groan and steadied his stance.

Simultaneously, he bellowed loudly.

“Quickly, the Fire Spirit Gate!”

“……Act swiftly!”

Master Munjeong severely chastised himself for reacting slower than Gu Yangjeok.

‘Had we faltered, the Fire Spirit Gate would have been shattered!’

The demonic energy wielded by the Immortal Demon was several times greater than ordinary fire energy.

Moreover, his physical form seemed to have already transcended humanity.

A mere gust of wind whipped up by his palm strike was enough to sever the pillars of a building, and a simple stomp could unbalance even the most formidable warrior.

Witnessing the Demon King’s martial prowess, Master Munjeong could only foresee the worst.

‘If the Fire-Eye Gate falls… Shaolin Temple is finished!’

The guilt of nearly entrusting Shaolin Temple’s history, spanning hundreds, nearly a thousand years, to such a demonic being gripped Master Munjeong’s ankles.

The martial prowess the Immortal Demon then displayed left his mouth numb.

It was Master Museong, who had masterfully inherited the martial arts that could be called Shaolin’s true lineage. Even countering with the same Shaolin martial arts, his realm was far below that of the Immortal Demon.

The despair of knowing he couldn’t win wiped his mind clean.

Yet, he managed to regain his senses because of the two late-stage cultivators blocking the Unkillable Demon.

Plum Blossom Divine Dragon, Gu Yangjie.

Plum Blossom Cloud Dragon, Yu Zhangming.

If the senior brothers of the Ta Men, around the age of twenty, were fighting so fiercely, how could he just stand there blankly?

‘Like this, I can’t hold my head up before anyone.’

Master Munjeong launched himself to seize the back of the Immortal Demon.

Thud!

Footsteps that shook the earth’s axis.

A deafening roar, as if a hundred men were charging across the battlefield, pierced Gu Yangjeok’s ears.

The demonic energy enveloping the Immortal Demon’s fist wavered faintly, shifting and distorting its form.

Before it could solidify into another form, Gu Yangjeok swung his sword, restraining the Immortal Demon’s movement.

Clang!

The recoil from colliding with the demonic energy made his wrist sting.

Though he never neglected his training, exchanging hundreds of techniques had left fatigue soaking his entire body.

The Sixty-Four Arhats forming the Fire-Eye Gate.

Behind them, the Venerable Master Munjeong and twenty-two masters gathering their qi, ready to join the Fire-Eye Gate at any moment.

Even if any master from the Central Plains were brought here, they couldn’t overcome such overwhelming force. But the Immortal Demon was different.

‘Unlike the Black Dragon… this one is cunning.’

He must have spent decades as a monk, and perhaps even longer before that under another identity.

The martial arts of other sects he occasionally displayed amidst Shaolin techniques were proof, and his mastery was no less than that of the orthodox Shaolin.

Because of this, he sometimes found himself flustered.

You never knew when or where that bizarre martial art would strike.

‘It’s strange that Brother, with his limited experience in life-and-death duels, is still holding on.’

Even the calm composure he displayed while parrying the Immortal Demon’s attacks seemed to transcend his age and martial prowess.

But eventually, his limits were reached.

Drip, drip.

As his internal energy gradually began to deplete, the entire body started to crack, distorting Yu Zhangming’s expression.

Seeing this, the Immortal Demon’s lips curved into a smile.

“That pathetic swordplay ends right here!”

The very moment the Immortal Demon ignored all attacks and unleashed his technique to take Yu Zhangming’s life.

Wuuuung……!

A sword cry rang out from the blade of the True Existence Sword.