Unforgettable Night -2

There was no sound except for the soft thud of snow falling from the branches of the trees, occasionally interrupted by the boy's exhalations, the breath escaping his lips in a visible, white cloud. He stood alone in the open clearing, gazing up at the sky above him.

He pulled the scarf up from his neck to cover his mouth, seeking a bit of warmth, then turned back and continued his journey towards the mountaintop.

---

Back in the village, the hustle and bustle of the villagers was palpable, their clamor blending with the melodies of joy. Children under the age of eight played together, while the adults set up a stage for the celebration, cooked food, and hung decorations for the big night.

In one of the few wooden cabins lining what seemed to be the main road, which extended through a wooden gate surrounded by a wall and centered around a well, Yunzi sat with her mother and two girls aged 9 and 14. The atmosphere between them was heavy, more like a funeral than a wedding.

The mother, who had just stepped into her thirties, couldn't hold back the tears as she looked at her little girl who was about to leave her. Despite the happiness in her mind, her heart refused to rest.

"Don't be sad, Mother," said the bride-to-be.

"I—I'm not sad, my little girl. Stop your nonsense. These are tears of joy, you silly girl."

"My aunt is lying!" the 9-year-old girl interjected, trying to make Yunzi and her mother laugh. But the older girl dragged the little one outside, casting a jealous glance at her. It wasn't fair that she had to stay in this grave-like village just because she wasn't pretty enough to be asked for by a rich merchant, as had happened to Yunzi.

Such looks couldn't escape the bride's notice, but she remained silent about what she had observed from her childhood friend throughout her engagement.

"Mom, if I wanted to break off the engagement, I wouldn't hesitate!" Yunzi said suddenly.

"Don't say that, you idiot!" her mother yelled. "It's hard to part, but we're happy for your happiness, my dear. May the spirits grant you joy!"

"Mom, I understand how you feel, especially about my little brother! Although Father doesn't show it on his smiling face, I know he's sad about me leaving, and so am I!" Yunzi continued. "I really don't know what to do. I wish I could spend the rest of my life with you, but it's just a wish."

"My little girl," her mother whispered, patting her daughter's head with eyes full of tenderness. "Don't worry, everything will be fine. Let's get ready for tonight. I think your father is almost here."

---

Back on the mountain, the little boy was shoveling snow alone with his tool. Despite his small size, he, like most of those who lived there and gathered herbs, possessed remarkable endurance and strength. The harsh winter and the difficulty of moving through the snow made the villagers adept at moving quickly and gracefully, even while carrying heavy equipment. During the three-month winter period, their daily habits included climbing and hunting, leaving hardly a trace of their footprints in the snow when they moved without equipment.

Jun was shoveling in an area near the top of the mountain that had caught his attention. The snow around it wasn't as heavy as in other areas, and as he approached, he noticed something odd—the ground here wasn't solid like the rest of the mountain but light, almost making him think it was water, not snow. It was very strange.

Not much time had passed since he began searching when he uncovered a strange plant, unlike any he had seen before. The more he dug, the harder it became to breathe until he finally saw it—white as snow, but shimmering like stars in a clear sky. It resembled a lotus but wasn't one. A strong urge to reach out and eat it overwhelmed him, but he quickly regained control, carefully extracting it from the ground and placing it on a bed of snow in a piece of cloth.

Jun stood up with a sigh, looking down at the village before starting his descent. He had hoped that his time alone on the mountain would be good for him, and it was. No matter what plant he found, he had spent time reflecting on the wedding. It was inescapable. For his sister's happiness, he knew he had to put his own feelings aside. She had always been like a mother to him, taking care of him when he was young.

He didn't dwell on his thoughts for long before he began jumping toward the village, trying to avoid getting scolded by his father.

Halfway down, he felt something move beside him among the trees. The sound of something running fast. Suddenly, a white tiger pounced on him, pinning him to the ground. The tiger was as tall as an adult man, with sharp fangs protruding from its mouth. It was an ice devil, but instead of attacking, the huge beast started licking the boy's face like a playful cat.

"Whitey! Stop messing around! Hahaha!" Jun laughed as the tiger continued to tease him. The enormous creature had reached a high level of Qi gathering, comparable to a second-level fighter.

In this world, strength was divided into different stages, with the lowest being the fifth level, for those who knew nothing of martial arts. The fourth level included those who knew the basics of martial arts or had strong bodies. The third level comprised skilled fighters with capabilities beyond ordinary people, with visible signs of ki energy gathering in their bodies. The second level included those proficient in directing and using energy in combat, while the first level consisted of individuals who could embody their energy into their weapons—like the huge monk standing behind the tiger, Banzan.

"Hello, little one!" the monk called out. He was a towering figure with a bald head, clad in a monk's robe with prayer beads around his neck, smiling warmly at the boy.

"Hehehe, stop it, Whitey!"

The monk watched the boy playing with the massive tiger, a smile on his face.

There was a special bond between Banzan, the head of the eastern temple in this region, and young Jun. The monk had often tried to persuade Jun to join the monastery, but the boy refused because he didn't want to shave his head. Banzan, however, saw potential in the boy. He had once given Jun a pill to help him gather ki energy, expecting it to give him only a fleeting sense of strength. But to his surprise, the pill helped Jun open his energy pathways, revealing him to be a genius—not just because of his body's ability to learn martial arts or adapt to the harsh conditions of their village, but also because he had a natural talent for understanding and manipulating energy. The monk had even taught Jun some basic Shaolin concepts, despite the taboo of teaching outsiders. Though he didn't teach him everything, not even Shaolin's methods of dealing with energy, he found the boy proficient and adaptable. Jun could effortlessly handle both cold and warm energy, so Banzan had shown him two simple techniques for punching and kicking. The boy's body seemed to cry out for martial arts training, but Jun remained resistant.

"I heard your sister is getting married today!" the monk said, pulling the tiger by its tail as if it were a small kitten. The tiger showed signs of protest, having been interrupted while playing with its friend.

"Yeah! Aren't you coming to the wedding? You know you're invited!"

"Haha! Don't give me that look, Crow! Of course, I'll come!" the monk replied. "But are you sure you don't want to join us?"

"Never," said the boy, sticking his tongue out at the monk. "See you at the party, baldie!"

"Youth!" the monk laughed.

---

As the sun began to set, Ji Bong, a twenty-year-old monk, was returning from his daily duties with his friend. They were childhood friends who had joined the monastery together at an early age.

"These festive sounds are wonderful!" Ji Bong remarked. "It's a shame we won't ever get married, huh?" He laughed.

"It's our way of life. To each his own, my friend."

"I heard the chief is going to the party?"

"Of course. He spoils that little boy too much."

"Amitabha! It's nice to be youn—"

Ji Bong found it strange that his friend had suddenly fallen silent, especially given the eerie silence that had befallen them. What drew his attention even more was the warm liquid that touched his face in the cold of winter. He looked beside him and saw his friend—headless, blood gushing from what used to be his neck.

"What—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Ji Bong saw a strange sight—the earth and sky swapped places, and he saw another headless body spinning in his line of sight. Then he understood—it was his own body before his head rested on the snow. Around him, men dressed in black hurried toward the monastery.

---

Eleven masked men in black clothes and bamboo hats leaped over the walls of the monastery, extinguishing the lamps that illuminated it.

Five of them continued their silent sprint in different directions. One encountered two monks and swiftly drew his sword, plunging it into the heart of one and beheading the other before he could utter a word. The other masked men moved with similar speed and precision, knowing exactly where to strike. The Green Mountain monastery housed fifty monks, seven of whom had already fallen. Suddenly, the bell rang out as one of the monks struck it, summoning the others to the square.

"Amitabha! What's going on?!"

"Who are they?!"

"How

 did these fools get in here?!"

"Grab your weapons and find Monk Banzan!"

At first, the monks didn't perceive the situation as dangerous. Their enemies numbered only five, while they were fifty. But their understanding quickly changed. Three monks attacked one of the masked men with spears, only to be repelled all at once by a single sweep of his sword. With two swift strikes, he killed all three.

These intruders were second-level Murim fighters, but their style and speed surpassed that of ordinary second-level fighters.

And behind them came another five.

It was a massacre.

One monk, no more than sixteen years old, tried to swing his sword but met only air before being knocked to the ground by a kick from his opponent. His leg was broken, and he looked up in fear at the masked man, his heart racing, pain shooting through his right foot. He awaited the final blow, expecting his blood to stain the white snow like his fallen companions.

But suddenly, out of nowhere, Whitey pounced on the attacker, sinking his fangs into the man's neck!

The tiger's attack was swift and lethal, taking the man's life in an instant.

Whitey's presence brought hope to the remaining monks. But the attackers quickly regrouped, and three of them surrounded the tiger.

When Whitey tried to leap at one of them, another yanked him back with a chain around his leg, pulling him to the ground. As the tiger turned to strike the one who had caught him, another chain was wrapped around his paw, immobilizing him.

Whitey was strong, but his attackers weren't weak. Their numbers gave them an advantage. Above him, the third attacker leaped, sword in hand, ready to strike. The tiger looked up, unable to defend himself.

The masked man saw the fierce expression on the tiger's face fade, replaced by a look of innocence, like a child at play.

"What a foolish animal that doesn't realize it's the end!"

But as he drew closer, he saw something strange—a golden spear aimed at his head.

"What is th—"

Before he could finish, his head exploded, pierced by the spear.

The sudden turn of events caused the attackers surrounding Whitey to lose focus momentarily, allowing the tiger to pounce on one of them, killing him instantly. The second attacker tried to retreat, but before he could, a powerful punch met his head. He never saw where it came from, and the force of the blow left him stunned before it obliterated his skull.

"Brother Banzan!"

"My brother has finally come!!!"

The monk named Banzan was enormous, surrounded by a halo of golden ki, with anger etched on his face. He had been heading to the wedding ceremony in the village, but upon hearing the bell, he had rushed to the monastery. He hadn't expected to find such devastation. Two-thirds of his brothers were dead!

"How dare you!"

"HOW DARE YOU DO THIS!"

Banzan was seething with anger, blood and tears mingling on his face as his golden ki swirled around him, illuminating the darkness.

Suddenly, the monk spread his legs apart, assuming a fighting stance. He positioned his right hand near his waist and his left hand toward one of the masked men, lowering his center of gravity until—

"First Form!"

He shot forward like an arrow towards the masked man three meters away. Although his opponent quickly retreated, Banzan pursued him like a bird of prey, landing with such force that the snow around him flew into the air. He channeled all his weight and energy into his right hand, aiming for his opponent. But the masked man was resilient, countering with his sword. However, the sword shattered upon impact with Banzan's fist, and the energy from the blow spread through the masked man's body, causing his internal organs to explode. He bled from every orifice before collapsing to the ground.

As the masked man's body fell, Banzan sensed danger and turned around. What he saw turned his anger into fear.

Another masked man had appeared, carrying a sword. Behind him lay Whitey, split in two.

Not only that, but all of his fellow monks were dead.

This all happened in the moments it took to kill two of the attackers.

The mixture of fear and anger that surged through Banzan drove him into a state of madness, but he didn't forget his training. He quickly drew a dagger from his robe, and the energy around him began to take the form of a screaming tiger's face.

"I will kill you!"

Banzan had succumbed to his inner demon, the demon of anger. He lunged at his opponent.

The masked man, indistinguishable from the others except for the sinister aura emanating from his body—a clear sign of his martial superiority over his comrades—pointed his sword at Banzan. Black ki energy began to gather around the sword as he moved to meet the monk.

The dagger met the sword, and the two forces clashed with equal might. But that wasn't all.

The tiger's aura surrounding Banzan pounced on the masked man as if it were about to devour him.

But suddenly, something strange happened.

"Cutter!"

The masked man unleashed a ki attack from his sword in four directions, surrounding Banzan. The attack shattered the energy shield around him and slashed through his body, causing blood to spill from his wounds.

"How… how… is this possible?!"

As Banzan lost his balance and consciousness began to slip away, he saw his opponent driving the sword through his heart.

It was the end. As his consciousness faded, his eyes fell on the bodies of his fallen brothers and his companion, Whitey. Before taking his last breath, he thought of Jun and the villagers.

"Captain!"

One of the masked men knelt beside the monk's killer.

"We've confirmed the count. Everyone in the monastery is dead. The rest of our comrades are on their way to the village at the foot of the mountain."

"Good! What are you waiting for? Burn everything and leave no trace behind!"

"Roger that!"

---

It was a night to remember. The decorations were splendid. In the center stood the newlyweds in their traditional costumes, surrounded by family and friends. Jun's father was truly happy, and so was his mother. There was no hiding the joy that filled the night.

Jun was happy for his sister too. Well, maybe a little jealous of the way she looked at her groom, but there was nothing he could do about it.

The celebration began, with dancing and feasting, while Jun looked around in confusion. Why was the monk late? Perhaps he was busy with "baldies' business." He really hated shaving!

Moments later, his mother approached him. "You look happy, my little one!"

"Mom! Please, I'm no longer a child!" Jun replied jokingly, as his mother patted his head.

"Don't worry, dear! This isn't the end!"

"I know, Mom!" The mixed feelings swirling around them were too complex to describe in words, but the overwhelming atmosphere of the night made them forget everything else on their minds.

"I know you're sad too, Mom, but you're really good at hiding it!" Jun said, teasing his mother.

"Hah," his mother sighed, "you little rascal! No, I'm not sad! You know why!"

Jun looked into his mother's blue eyes, and she looked back, seeing her reflection in her son's eyes—the eyes he had inherited from her.

"Because we're together! We'll spend a lot of time together! We'll laugh, cry, and rejoice together! I won't let you leave us until you're bored of us!"

Yes, this was the big night when they would lose a family member, but also create a new family—far away, up in the north.

"Well, don't worry, Mo—"

Huh?

It was strange.

Jun couldn't finish his sentence, interrupted by a shocking sight. His mother, who had been talking to him with a smile, suddenly had an arrow piercing her skull, the white moon reflecting in her blue eyes.

Perhaps the blood splattering on his face was what snapped him back to reality.

The joyous sounds suddenly turned into screams and howls of terror!

He didn't know what was happening! His heart pounded hard, blood rushing to his head. This had to be a dream! Yes, he was dreaming!

Suddenly, he felt the air leave his lungs, a burning sensation spreading from his neck, and a warm liquid gushing from it. He looked down and saw an arrow piercing his throat!

His steps faltered, and he fell face-first to the ground as his consciousness began to fade. The sounds of chaos and commotion grew distant until everything went black.