The Four Shaolin Monks (2)
As Mu-gung headed towards the martial arts arena, a young swordsman stepped forward from where the Taoists of the Jeomchang Sect were gathered.
Mu-gung greeted Il-hwi Dojang with the Ban-dangju.
“Amitabha. It’s been a long time.”
“Do you know me?”
To Il-hwi Dojang’s blunt question, Mu-gung responded calmly.
“If you don’t remember, it doesn’t matter.”
In the past, his pride might have been hurt.
Of course, that didn’t mean he felt no emotions now. Rather, it was more like…
“I will make sure he experiences the defeat from someone he doesn’t even remember.”Thanks to his training with Hye-dam, Mu-gung maintained a calm expression while burning with a competitive spirit inside.
“Let the martial contest between Shaolin’s Monk Mu-gung and Jeomchang Sect’s Il-hwi Dojang begin!”
At the referee’s shout, a sharp sound accompanied the flashing of a sword light, echoing beyond the arena.
* * *
“At that age, to wield the Sa-il Sword Technique with such ease…”
Master Hyun-hyeon murmured in a somber tone as he watched the martial contest between Mu-gung and Il-hwi Dojang.
As soon as the contest began, Il-hwi Dojang’s sword moved so swiftly that it was unclear when it had been drawn.
Mu-gung, who lost the initiative with that first strike, found his monk’s robe torn and was pushed into a defensive stance from the start.
Il-hwi Dojang continued to thrust his sword rapidly, and the sword energy emanating from his blade kept slashing Mu-gung’s kasa.
The Sa-il Sword Technique.
One of the Jeomchang Sect’s ultimate techniques, it focused on thrusting attacks. True to its name, meaning “Shooting the Sun Sword Technique,” its speed was so great that it was difficult for the eye to follow.
“Oh!!!”
“As expected of Jeomchang!”
Spectators were exclaiming in awe, unable to properly see the sword’s path due to its tremendous speed.
In contrast, the faces of the Shaolin disciples darkened.
“What do we do? It looks like Brother Mu-gung is struggling.”
“Brother Mu-gung might be facing an opponent that’s a bit too much for him. Amitabha.”
As Mu-yul and Mu-gyeong murmured in regret while watching, Mu-jin spoke with a faint smile.
“Don’t worry. Mu-gung can definitely win.”
“We hope Brother Mu-gung wins too, but…”
“It’s not just that it would be good if he won, Mu-gung’s skill is superior.”
“???”
When Mu-gyeong and Mu-yul looked at Mu-jin with puzzled expressions, Mu-jin pointed to Mu-gung on the martial arts stage, whose robe was being torn.
“Look closely. Only his clothes are being cut, he has almost no injuries. It means he’s dodging with minimal movements, not that he can’t avoid it.”
* * *
In a situation that seemed to be driving him into a corner, Mu-gung calmly observed Il-hwi Dojang’s movements with serene eyes.
‘Hoo. He is indeed fast.’
As expected, the Sa-il Sword Technique, considered a top technique of the Jeomchang Sect which valued the essence of speed, made it nearly impossible to dodge just by seeing.
Therefore, just as he had learned from Mu-jin in his childhood, Mu-gung was predicting the sword’s path through the opponent’s preliminary movements.
‘Does he lack real combat experience? Or is it hard to vary his moves because he focuses so much on speed?’
Though incredibly fast, the sword’s path was too straightforward.
Despite this, his robe was being torn partly because of his large body.
“When movements become larger, crises tend to arrive.”
This was also due to the direction of martial arts he pursued.
The subtlety of stillness within movement.
It was the path chosen by someone with a large build and mighty strength but lacking in agility.
Mu-gung, while appearing to stand still, evaded the strikes of Il-hwi Dojang’s sword with very slight movements, teetering on the edge.
In the subtlety of stillness within movement, the most crucial aspect was the Immovable Heart Technique.
Even as sword energy flew toward him, appearing as if it would pierce his body, his eyes did not waver.
Swish! Swish!
The moment he became fully accustomed to the movements of the Sa-il Sword Technique,
Bang!
A powerful shockwave resounded across the martial arts stage with a fierce vibration.
Unerringly, Mu-gung, evading a thrust by a hair’s breadth, closed in on Il-hwi Dojang and unleashed a palm strike.
Mu-gung’s hand, imbued with Extreme Yang Energy, resembled that of Shakyamuni Buddha.
“!!!”
As the opponent, who had been toying with his sword strikes, suddenly closed in and unleashed a palm strike, the greatly alarmed Il-hwi Dojang hurriedly executed a hidden technique.
Naturally, the quick thrusting motion of his sword changed.
Mu-gung’s hand, glowing crimson with Extreme Yang Energy combined with Metal Energy, was met with a thin white line.
* * *
“Tathagata Palm!!”
Someone, realizing the martial art through Mu-gung’s crimson palm, shouted in surprise.
Then, someone else, seeing the thin white line drawn in the air, exclaimed,
“And even the Splitting Light Eighteen Hands!”
With the renowned Seventy-Two Consummate Arts of Shaolin and the ultimate technique of the Jeomchang Sect simultaneously on display, the crowd surrounding the martial arts stage went into an uproar.
“How can late-stage disciples already wield such ultimate techniques?”
“As expected of the Nine Great Sects!”
Neutral spectators from lesser-known sects or one-man schools all expressed their admiration, while most of those from the Nine Great Sects and Five Noble Families who had advanced to this round wore rather serious expressions.
‘I’m closing in!’
Seizing the opportunity, Mu-gung boldly stepped forward once more.
Mu-gung had not expected Il-hwi Dojang to suddenly unleash such an extraordinary technique.
However, the first move of the Splitting Light Eighteen Hands that Il-hwi Dojang executed, the Splitting Light Flash, was hastily performed without preparation.
Moreover, the clash between the Splitting Light Flash, which emphasized speed, and the Tathagata Palm, which contained the essence of stillness, had a predetermined outcome unless there was a significant difference in skill level.
“Guh.”
After the collision, Il-hwi Dojang, pushed back by the force difference, let out a groan and displayed an alarmed expression as he executed the Sa-il Sword Technique.
He had not anticipated that the premier technique of his esteemed sect, the Splitting Light Eighteen Hands, would be overpowered.
‘As expected, he lacks experience.’
On the other hand, Mu-gung moved with a heart settled in utmost calmness, analyzing his opponent.
‘If he had aimed for a counterattack, I would understand, but choosing defense at that moment…’
One of the ultimate skills desired by martial artists who pursued speed: the technique of attacking after the opponent, but striking first.
“If Il-hwi Dojang had used Splitting Light Flash to target Mu-gung’s vital point instead of blocking Tathagata Palm a moment ago, he might have achieved a draw or perhaps won instantly with a counterattack.”
However, a flustered Il-hwi Dojang failed to capitalize on the strengths of his martial arts.
In contrast, Mu-gung still calmly advanced toward Il-hwi Dojang.
Il-hwi Dojang hastily performed the Sa-il Sword Technique to drive Mu-gung back, but due to the internal injury and broken posture from the earlier clash, the speed was reduced compared to the technique he had displayed at the beginning of the duel.
Naturally, the slower Sa-il Sword Technique did not reach Mu-gung’s body.
“It’s over.”
Before anyone realized, Mu-gung’s crimson palm had already touched Il-hwi Dojang’s abdomen.
* * *
‘Did I… win?’
Even with his palm against Il-hwi Dojang’s abdomen, Mu-gung still felt dazed.
“Wowwwwww!!”
“As expected of Shaolin!”
But the cheers erupting around the martial arts stage as soon as the duel ended snapped Mu-gung out of his daze.
The roar of the crowd, deeply immersed in the duel, shook Mu-gung’s Immovable Heart.
‘Yes! I won! I beat that genius!’
Realizing his victory, Mu-gung struggled to suppress the smile threatening to break out.
‘Hmm. If I’m to be a refined martial arts master, I must act like it’s no big deal. Indeed.’
Flaunting after a victory would diminish his gravitas. Mu-gung straightened his posture, imagining the composed demeanor of the dignified martial arts master he aspired to be.
“Amitabha.”
He stepped back, maintaining an air of nonchalance after the victory.
‘Ah, this is it.’
This was the image of a Shaolin master that Mu-gung envisioned.
The crowd erupted in cheers again at his composed display.
“Hmm.”
Mu-gung forced his rising smile and cheekbones down as he descended from the stage.
He had defeated a genius of the past and garnered the crowd’s attention—truly an ideal situation.
Mu-gung felt as if he was soaring in the sky.
“Trying to look cool in those rags?”
Until Mu-jin spoke to him.
“R-rags?”
“Look at your clothes. Even beggars wouldn’t take those.”
Snapped back to reality, Mu-gung examined his clothes.
Sure enough, dodging the Sa-il Sword Technique by a hair’s breadth had left his clothes in tatters.
‘Damn. I won so stylishly, but my clothes are in this state.’
Feeling embarrassed by his shabby appearance, Mu-gung’s face reddened slightly.
“Here, you might have some shallow cuts from not fully dodging, so apply this.”
Mu-jin handed over the Golden Wound Medicine he had prepared for the martial arts tournament.
“Hmph. Such minor wounds are nothing for a martial artist.”
Mu-jin chuckled at Mu-gung’s boastful yet still dazed demeanor.
“Ah, yes, of course.”
Mu-jin casually tossed the Golden Wound Medicine to Mu-gung and said,
“Apply it when you return to the pavilion this evening.”
With that, Mu-jin turned his attention to Mu-yul, who was about to spar, leaving Mu-gung, who was still pouting, to be approached by Master Hyun-hyeon and the Shaolin disciples.
“You did very well, Mu-gung.”
“To calmly secure victory against such a formidable opponent! Splendid!”
The praise from the Shaolin elders naturally caused Mu-gung’s smile and cheeks to rise once more.
* * *
After the duel between Mu-gung and Il-hwi Dojang concluded,
Following a brief period of commotion, the next duel began.
The second duel of the second round of the Yongbongji Conference was between Cheong-su Dojang, the top prodigy of Wudang, and Bohyeon, the nun from the Ami sect.
However, instead of watching the duel, Mu-jin spoke to Mu-yul, who was scheduled for the next bout.
“Yul-ah. You know you’re up next, right?”
“Oh, it’s my turn next! I was just planning to go out when they called my name. Hehe.”
As expected, Mu-jin was worried, confirming his suspicions with Mu-yul’s carefree response.
“Do you remember who your opponent is?”
“Hmm… I saw him two days ago, I think.”
“As I thought, you forgot.”
Mu-jin sighed lightly. He had anticipated this, so he had memorized Mu-yul’s opponent for him.
“Peng Kah-hu. He’s from the Peng family in Hebei and uses a saber. From what I saw in the last duel, it seems he’s mastered the Five Tigers Severing Blade Technique.”
Upon hearing Mu-jin’s brief explanation of his opponent, Mu-yul’s previously carefree expression turned into one of surprise.
“Really? The Five Tigers Severing Blade Technique!?”
Mu-jin tilted his head in confusion at Mu-yul’s excessive reaction.
‘What is this? Does he have some story related to the Five Tigers Severing Blade Technique like Mu-gung does?’
Did he have some childhood experience with a martial artist who used the technique?
“Why? Is there a problem?”
“Of course, there’s a problem! Five Tigers means there are five tigers.”
“Right.”
“Then it must be stronger than the Tiger Fist. Tiger Fist is just one tiger.”
“……”
What was I expecting from him?
Mu-jin felt a strange sense of despair.
However, regardless of Mu-jin’s feelings,
“I haven’t even learned Dragon Fist yet, what should I do, Mu-jin?”
Mu-yul was deeply worried, a troubled look on his face.
Mu-jin unconsciously rubbed his face dry and thought of someone.
‘Master Uncle Hye-geol, what kind of fight are you having?’
At that moment, the character (leopard) engraved on Mu-yul’s back by Hye-geol, who had celebrated Mu-yul’s mastery of the Leopard Fist, caught Mu-jin’s eye.
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