Chapter 1586: So, Who Exactly Are You Talking About? (Part 6)

"Uh...."

Could the feeling of witnessing this scene be expressed only with the word 'shock'?

On the vast and rugged land, a giant handprint was engraved. It was massive, like the mark left by Pangu, yet it carried a sacred trace as if embodying the will of Buddha.

Jonglihyung's mouth hung open.

"That, that is... Beopjeong."

Scars etched on the ground may not be surprising, or rather, it was naturally astonishing, but it is a result close to expected when the one who created such traces was Beopjeong.

Who was Beopjeong? He was the Sect Leader of Thousand-Year Shaolin, also known as Huge Mountain Bukdu [idk] of the Central Plains martial art schools.

Even Shaolin elders were evaluated as having the martial prowess to rival the top masters of other sects. What could be said about the Sect Leader of Shaolin?

Certainly, it could not be guaranteed that the one becoming the leader (長) of a sect would necessarily be the strongest in that sect, but Beopjeong was acknowledged for his strength, even from the perspective of martial arts prowess.

However, the reason Jonglihyung was surprised was not just because of the power of the martial arts that Beopjeong displayed, but because of the absurd utilization contained within.

Ordinary people find it difficult to comprehend even one of the Seventy-two Martial Arts, which are said to be impossible to fully understand even with a lifetime of training in Shaolin. Among these arts, only a select few who possess both talent and unwavering determination are granted permission to practice the highest level of martial arts.

Yet, such martial arts were pouring out at every step!

Their movements were so natural that it might be difficult to truly gauge their strength.

However, not all Seventy-two Martial Arts were the same. Each art was different. Different martial arts meant that different inner energy manipulations and different types of inner energy were to be raised.

Yet, Beopjeong effortlessly connected all these martial arts as if using different martial arts within one martial art.

What level of mastery of martial arts was required for such an absurd feat?

'Is this the true power of Shaolin?'

Jonglihyung's fingertips began to tremble.

If he stood in front of that Beopjeong, how many breaths could he endure?

The Sect Leader of Shaolin, a giant leading the world.

Didn't the imposing name make light of the value of the 'martial artist' Beopjeong?

'Even if I try to intervene....'

He couldn't even secure the minimum justification.

The opponent was the notorious leader of the Evil Tyrant Alliance. He wasn't a foe worth insisting on a fair one-on-one battle. However, if the fight continued so one-sidedly, anyone intervening would inevitably face criticism.

On the opposite side, Peng Yeop remained silent, with lips tightly pressed, probably having similar thoughts.

'This...'

It was such an absurd situation, but right now, Jonglihyung hoped that Jang Ilso could hold his ground. If Jang Ilso was easily defeated, all glory would be taken by Shaolin, and Kongtong and the Peng Family wouldn't even be able to reclaim the minimal bloodshed that occurred here.

In that case, wouldn't he be blamed for needlessly leading his disciples to their deaths?

'That must not happen!'

Anxiety gripped him. But at the moment, there was no sharp solution. Jonglihyung clenched his fist tightly.

'Even if it's Paegun, against Beopjeong....'

That was the moment.

Thud.

Thrown back by Beopjeong's force, Jang Ilso, who had been lying on the ground, grabbed the earth as if to seize it.

"Hmm...."

Then he slowly rose. The makeup covering his face was wiped off, and the symbolic crown seemed to have disappeared somewhere. Red grape-like bruises were scattered, and dust was stirred up.

It looked quite disastrous at first glance.

Moreover, the visible wounds wouldn't be particularly impressive. Shaolin's internal energy technique was merciful yet cruel. The martial arts that destroy the opponent's internal organs must have significantly shaken the inside of his robust body.

However, Jonglihyung doubted his eyes the next moment.

Jang Ilso's posture and gaze, now in disarray, were... not much different from the beginning. Boredom, apathy, lethargy—these qualities still permeated him.

As if these injuries were nothing. No, to him, it seemed no different from his usual daily life.

For a moment, Jonglihyung's spine chilled. A strange eerie feeling spread through his whole body.

"This, this...."

Jang Ilso, who let out a sigh as if it were someone else's business, leisurely swept back his flowing hair.

"It looks like a mess."

That was right after being pitifully pushed back in a one-sided manner. However, there was clearly a sense of leisure in Jang Ilso's gesture.

Arrogance? Conceit? No, that wasn't it. It wasn't fabricated.

At this sight, even Beopjeong couldn't control his expression from stiffening.

"Are you not paying attention to my appearance because you're an old bald-headed man...? There's no consideration at all. That way, how can we talk about 'mercy' anywhere?"

Jang Ilso stood up.

Blood dripped onto the ground where he stood.

"But I suppose Bangjang didn't ascend to the position of Shaolin Sect Leader easily. He rolled his tongue so well I thought he gained that position with that talent."

"Amitabhul."

Beopjeong, with a calm gaze, observed Jang Ilso who had settled down. Was there room for him to be relaxed?

No, there wasn't. His attacks clearly affected Jang Ilso. The wounds engraved on his flesh and the paled complexion were certainly not illusory.

Then, what about that leisure?

The situation didn't add up. Perhaps that's why Beopjeong could realize the fact that it wasn't leisure coming from the physical reserves.

'Is this something familiar?'

If Beopjeong had been in the same situation as Jang Ilso, he might not have been able to handle that sense of defeat. But Jang Ilso didn't seem to place much importance on such a situation.

He must have faced countless battles.

The Myriad ManManor, which started as a small sect, had overcome numerous trials to become a force commanding the world.

To him, a situation like this might not be anything special.

But...

"The good fortune you've had in your life won't repeat itself today."

"...Huh?"

"All things must come to an end. Of course, what continues is not... "

"Tsk!"

Before Beopjeong could finish his sentence, Jang Ilso spat out the blood collected in his mouth. The dark, lifeless blood seeped into the ground. Seeing this, Jang Ilso chuckled and laughed.

"Ah, sorry. It's a bit disgusting, so I'll stop. Actually, I don't really like blood."

"...Paegun."

The lightly colored eyes silently stared at Beopjeong. Gradually, the corners of his eyes curved.

"Don't be too conceited. This is just the beginning, isn't it?"

Thud.

A noise came from Jang Ilso's fist.

"Good fortune..."

Soon, he began to laugh softly. Then he disappeared in that spot.

"Check it out!" [not sure]

Kwoong!

It was a speed beyond imagination. Along with his fist, the blue aura extended like a pair of wings.

"It's futile."

Beopjeong held his ground with a firm expression.

Nahan Gwon, the foundation of all Shaolin fists.

It may not be special because it was fundamental, but at the same time, it was more threatening than any other martial art. Being unspecial meant there were no shortcomings.

Presenting an unyielding martial art against the unpredictable Jang Ilso was an excellent choice. And this was like a declaration of intent to definitely suppress Jang Ilso here and now.

Gooo!

With his legs apart, Beopjeong lowered his stance, observing the charging Jang Ilso. Like a mountain settling in place, a heaviness.

However, Jang Ilso, without a hint of hesitation, flew directly at Beopjeong.

Jang Ilso's fist shot straight ahead. Beopjeong's arm, firmly raised, perfectly blocked Jang Ilso's fist. 

Kwaang!

Along with a tremendous boom, the impact from the clash spread around, but the result was clear. Beopjeong's arm, solidly fortified like a mountain, flawlessly blocked Jang Ilso's fist. Even Jang Ilso's fierce energy couldn't penetrate Beopjeong's firm inner energy.

However, at that moment, Jang Ilso's hand, at an invisible speed, swiftly retracted and immediately thrust three consecutive punches into Beopjeong's arm.

Thunk! Kwaang! Thud!

A series of loud noises resounded in succession. Beopjeong's body remained unshaken, but that was merely about the physical aspect. The ground he stepped on began to crumble bit by bit, unable to withstand the forceful impact from Jang Ilso.

A brief confusion flickered in Beopjeong's eyes. The power of Shaolin starts from the lower body. The lower body is firmly anchored, and the upper body merely disperses that power.

However, the ground, which momentarily crumbled like tofu, couldn't adequately support Beopjeong's lower body.

It was a fleeting variable.

In battles of this level, such variables can swell like a snowball rolling downhill.

Beopjeong quickly moved his body backward, attempting to readjust his stance. Jang Ilso, as if expecting it, stuck to him like a leech. It was a momentary opening that an ordinary human would never be able to seize, but Jang Ilso clung to it like a beast.

"Ha!"

Beopjeong swiftly threw a punch, and twelve strikes cut through the air. It was a straightforward and rapid series of blows, yet, unfolding from Beopjeong's hand, it transformed into an unrivaled divine martial art.

However, the Arahat Fist, unleashed without a proper footing on the ground, couldn't fully exhibit its power.

Thud!

A short sound of impact resonated—virtually twelve striking sounds almost simultaneously overlapped.

Jang Ilso's eyes, having deflected all of Beopjeong's blows, emitted a peculiar light like that of a snake.

"You!"

Just as Beopjeong attempted to kick again, Jang Ilso lifted him, aiming for the groin. Anticipating Jang Ilso's agile technique, Beopjeong quickly withdrew his leg, blocking with his knee.

Kwang!

A perfect defense, but as a consequence, Beopjeong's body rose a bit higher into the air.

No matter how much he restrained and endured with his internal force, ignoring Jang Ilso's internal energy and descending was impossible.

"You know what?"

At that moment, Jang Ilso's eerie voice penetrated Beopjeong's ears.

"No matter how strong it is."

Hwaaack!

Blue flames erupted from Jang Ilso's hands.

"If you can't use it, it's as good as dead!"

Jang Ilso's palm surged towards Beopjeong, resembling a beast's strike.

Beopjeong, shouting with determination, emitted a white spiritual energy from his fingertips.

One Finger Zen (一指禪)!

It was a good choice. When the levels of internal force are equal, concentrating force on a single point makes it difficult to defend against. What more could be expected when facing Beopjeong, whose internal force was far superior?

However, it was also a foolish choice.

Watching the spiritual force flying towards his hand, Jang Ilso laughed. Then, unexpectedly, he released his energy from his hand.

Beopjeong widened his eyes.

'What?'

Thud!

Sharp and powerful spiritual force easily pierced through Jang Ilso's hand. If Jang Ilso had blocked with his internal force-infused hand, his body would've been pushed back. And if that had happened, Beopjeong could have gained time to continue his offensive.

However, Jang Ilso chose not to resist but to yield. As a result, a small hole appeared in the center of his palm, but it amounted to seizing the time from Beopjeong in exchange.

"Innocent, aren't you?"

In the brief moment when his hand that had emitted internal energy stopped, Jang Ilso wrapped his hand in flames once again.

The flames exploded in a straight line on Beopjeong's chest.

Kwaaaang!

The blue flame serpent ravaged the chest adorned with the brilliant Buddhist glow.