Chapter 356: War, Buddha, Palm (4)
Riiiip— Riiiip— Szzzzk—
The indecent sound echoed through the cave repeatedly.
That vaguely unpleasant noise was none other than the sound of Gal Dong-tak’s clothes being torn apart.
“Stay still.”
“Uuuhuhk!”
Of course, they weren’t tearing the clothes he was wearing.
Gal Dong-tak was exposing his large body and was being undressed from one side.
Yi-gang and Dam Hyun paid it no mind as they continued tearing Gal Dong-tak’s clothes into long strips.
Given his massive frame, his clothes were large, and since it was winter, he had been wearing several layers. It was the perfect condition for the task.
Others also offered their outerwear. Yi-gang and Dam Hyun twisted the torn fabric tightly, making it into a rope.
Then they tied it around Yi-gang’s waist.
“To think we made a rope this long just from the top layer. Impressive,” Dam Hyun exclaimed in admiration.
He had worried they might need to use everyone else’s clothes too if the rope wasn’t long enough, but fortunately, that wasn’t the case.
They had managed to make an excellent rope using only Gal Dong-tak’s clothes.
“Why is it my clothes you’re always using?!”
Gal Dong-tak slumped his shoulders.
Che-ring gave him a couple of pats in consolation.
Yi-gang watched Gal Dong-tak quietly and thought to himself, ‘Isn’t it better to lose your clothes than to get eaten?’
Then he suddenly flinched, startled at himself for thinking something Dam Hyun would say.
Just then, Dam Hyun offered some advice.
“If you get lost or feel like it’s getting dangerous, tug on the rope. The water current is flowing this way, so it should be fine.”
“Make sure you do it properly.”
“Got it. Hehehe…”
Dam Hyun let out a sleazy laugh.
Yi-gang complied more obediently than usual.
After all, Dam Hyun was quite literally holding his lifeline.
He let out a deep sigh at the absurdity of the situation.
“Haa. Once I get up there, I’ll get help from the lama monks and come back for you.”
“Yeah, you better do it right.”
Truthfully, the danger was just as real for those staying behind.
Even if the cave had food, water, and warmth, it was far from a comfortable situation.
Still, escaping through an underwater cave was something only someone like Yi-gang could even dare to attempt.
“Kyah!”
Cheongho let out a yelp.
Though Cheongho had gained the ability to communicate, she still rarely conveyed her thoughts with words.
Yi-gang scratched Cheongho under the chin.
Cheongho tried to follow Yi-gang but gave up.
After dipping a paw into the icy water of the cave lake, he shuddered and retreated.
Asking a fluffy fox to go diving with him was far too cruel a request.
“Guess I’m going solo.”
Yi-gang muttered to himself and prepared to jump into the water.
「I’ll go with you. Remember that.」
‘Yes, sir.’
Bodhidharma was tied to Yi-gang’s arm.
He dipped his feet into the cold water and loosened up his body.
It would be laughable if a Supreme Peak master died of cardiac arrest just from entering cold water, but still, better safe than sorry.
As Yi-gang did his warm-up stretches, he recalled something.
He had once asked Bodhidharma if he could block Mang-hon and the Mad Wind Army.
Considering the divine presence he had shown at Mount Song, it seemed possible.
Unlike the other spirits he had encountered so far, Bodhidharma didn’t need to possess Yi-gang.
Wasn’t this an opportunity to wipe out the Evil Cult without the side effects of possession, which could be fatal?
That was his reasoning when he asked, but Bodhidharma had looked troubled.
In the end, the answer was that it was impossible.
Apparently, when one’s power becomes too immense, limitations arise that prevent them from wielding it freely.
That’s why immortals couldn’t roam the world as they please.
It reminded Yi-gang of what Gumiho had once said about the restrictions of causality.
Back then, she had offered a ritual to gain the Queen Mother of the West’s permission.
By offering tribute and summoning the Queen Mother of the West, she had resolved that law of causality through the ritual.
To wield great power, a price must be paid in kind.
“Hurry up and get in already!”
“…I’m going.”
At Dam Hyun’s urging, Yi-gang grumbled and took a deep breath.
Ever since reaching the Supreme Peak level, he could hold his breath for at least half an hour.
It might be a bit different in freezing water, but by calculation, it should be enough to make it through.
In the dark water, Dam Hyun’s wooden puppet was wriggling, glowing with light.
“Just follow that thing!”
And then Yi-gang dove into the water.
Pwoooosh!
The icy water seeped into his bones, chilling him to the core.
Mang-hon’s interference had changed many things.
Each of the lama monks’ martial arts skills was undoubtedly superior to that of the Mad Wind Army.
The lineage of Indian Buddhist martial arts was being passed down through this Potala Palace.
The Vajrayana Mahamudra, which made their hands grow enormous, demonstrated astonishing power.
Its force was so fierce that it could counter even the demon sabers wielded by the Mad Wind Army bandits with bare hands.
One lama monk even managed to crush the skull of a bandit.
Thud!
Blood splattered.
The lama monk, having passed through the brink of life and death, let out a sigh of relief.
“…Huh.”
Suddenly, he noticed a small red insect perched on the back of his hand.
And then the insect exploded.
Pop!
Along with the bug, half of the monk’s hand blew off.
Through that opening, a demon saber struck from somewhere and sliced through the lama monk’s neck.
Slash! Blood spurted from the severed neck.
A brutal battle of death and killing.
Watching it all with a chillingly calm gaze was a single figure.
It was the Divine Monk.
Though he had barely been able to walk lately, somehow, he now stood upright.
But he wasn’t in the midst of battle—he stood hidden in the shadows.
Amid the bloodshed, neither the lama monks nor the bandits noticed his presence.
He breathed so quietly that not even the sound of it could be heard.
Even Hyun Cheok and Hyun Mu, who always stayed by his side, were nowhere to be seen.
The Divine Monk’s gaze was fixed on the rear flank of the bandits.
There, the Cardinal of the Evil Cult, Mang-hon, was strolling along with an air of leisure.
A puff of white steam flowed from the Divine Monk’s mouth.
It looked like the last of his life force escaping.
He was going to die soon anyway.
The Divine Monk wanted to spend his final moments here.
He thought he finally understood why Bodhidharma had once told him his time hadn’t come yet.
Perhaps now was his time.
He had lost nearly all of his internal energy. But that didn’t mean the enlightenment of a true master had faded.
The Divine Monk resolved to become a single dagger.
Mang-hon. He would stab that cult priest carrying out a massacre here.
To do so, he had to wait for one single, perfect opportunity.
‘The distance is…’
From where he stood to the Cardinal was about one hundred paces.
And between them were dozens of lama monks and Mad Wind Army bandits locked in battle.
Every time Mang-hon waved his hand, another lama monk fell.
They had to stop that Cardinal as soon as possible.
But haste would ruin it.
He had to wait for that exact moment when Hyun Cheok and Hyun Mu created an opening.
‘Go, Hyun Cheok…!’
And then the Divine Monk’s eyes widened.
Hyun Cheok had finally moved.
He had circled around to the rear of the Mad Wind Army.
Then, unleashing the Immovable Vajra Movement Technique, he pushed his Prajna True Qi to its peak.
When Shaolin martial arts were cultivated to their highest level, golden Qi radiated from the entire body.
Hyun Cheok gleamed like a golden Buddha statue.
Naturally, all eyes turned to him.
The Mad Wind Army bandits, fearless as ever, rushed in to block Hyun Cheok.
Mang-hon also sensed the disturbance and turned his head in that direction.
But the moment hadn’t come yet.
This time, Hyun Mu charged in stealthily.
He, too, launched forward with the Immovable Vajra Movement Technique, but what he used was the Maitreya Yogic Technique.
He slipped right through the gaps between the bandits as if it were nothing.
His speed was like the wind—none of the bandits even realized Hyun Mu had passed them.
Unusual for a Shaolin monk, Hyun Mu drew a sword.
It wasn’t that Shaolin lacked sword techniques. Rather, they simply refrained from using weapons meant to kill.
Hyun Mu’s blade glowed with a brilliant golden sword energy.
A full-force surprise attack from a Supreme Peak master.
But even that was merely meant to create a single moment of opportunity for the Divine Monk.
“What the—!”
Mang-hon gasped in shock.
Caught off guard by the surprise attack, Mang-hon seemed unable to react properly.
At that moment, the Divine Monk realized something was wrong.
‘Hyun Mu! It’s a trap, stop!’
Normally, he would’ve been able to warn him using Heart Speech of Wisdom Light.
But in his current body, even that was impossible. He couldn’t send a mental warning to his disciple.
In the end, the Divine Monk had no choice but to grit his teeth and take action himself.
To save Hyun Mu. And hoping that Mang-hon hadn’t predicted his attack.
The Divine Monk pulled his right hand back.
What he was preparing was a palm technique containing the lifetime of enlightenment from a supreme master.
Palm Wind—Hundred-Step Divine Fist.
A supreme ultimate technique, charged with absolute intent.
Just as the Divine Monk was about to unleash his radiant strike—
Hyun Mu stabbed Mang-hon in the chest.
“Urgh!”
Mang-hon collapsed without resistance.
And as the Divine Monk looked on, he saw Hyun Mu staring at the fallen Mang-hon in confusion.
Hyun Mu looked back at the Divine Monk. His lips mouthed something silently.
—It’s a fake!
A chilling warning.
Just as the Divine Monk rushed to locate the real Mang-hon—
A spine-chilling voice echoed right beside him.
“That would’ve been dangerous, even for me.”
The real Mang-hon was suddenly standing right next to the Divine Monk.
Wearing a bandit’s outfit that had hidden his face, he now unwrapped the cloth covering it.
A face covered in tattoos emerged.
When had he changed his appearance?
There hadn’t been a single opening, it was like something out of a ghost story.
“Heh heh… You dying monk, stop doing reckless things.”
But the Divine Monk wasn’t someone to just listen quietly.
He tried to unleash his fist.
That strike, imbued with all the power of anti-demonic energy, might have had a meaningful effect.
However, the fact that Mang-hon had appeared before him already meant he was fully prepared.
The Divine Monk’s movement stopped.
No—more precisely, it slowed to the point of being indistinguishable from stopped.
It was a phenomenon quite similar to when the Sword Emperor used a supreme ultimate technique.
“Tsk.”
Two of Mang-hon’s fingers turned to ash and crumbled away.
They didn’t regenerate in an instant or anything of the sort.
“What a waste.”
Even for him, countering the Divine Monk’s final burst of power had been burdensome.
“Using it too often costs too much. It’s not exactly efficient, either.”
This technique was a mimicry of the Sword Emperor’s ultimate move.
It had been created based on information acquired through the Hidden Ghosts.
The Divine Monk had been caught by a technique stolen from his deceased friend.
Bandits loosed arrows toward the helpless monk.
Thwip, ting!
But none of the arrows managed to harm him.
Mang-hon’s technique still couldn’t rival a true ultimate martial art.
As soon as the arrows entered a radius of one zhang around the Divine Monk, they began to move as if frozen in time.
“It’s useless. Ignore him and move on,” Mang-hon said as he walked past.
The Divine Monk could be dealt with later.
The first priority was to kill the Dalai Lama and steal the key to the Enshrined Deity Box.
The bandits clicked their tongues in disappointment but followed after Mang-hon.
From that point on, it was practically unguarded territory.
Even the third defensive line of the lama monks eventually collapsed.
The bandits finally came to a halt in a large hall-like space.
The ceiling soared high above, and crimson silk drapes hung down in abundance.
Hundreds of surviving lama monks stood solemnly, prepared for a last stand.
And at the center stood the Dalai Lama, clad in full ceremonial robes.
He wore a crown adorned with gold, holding a vajra in his right hand and a ritual scepter in his left.
His face was painted with blue dye, making his appearance as striking as Mang-hon’s.
Mang-hon stepped forward, ahead of the bandits.
Spreading his arms, he shouted, “Dalai Lama!”
Mang-hon’s voice tore through the air like hundreds of crows screaming at once.
“How do you intend to stop me?!”
He burst into laughter, clearly pleased.
Mang-hon was a cruel man, and one who never tired of killing.
Even killing bugs all day long brought him joy.
Killing people like insects brought him even greater joy.
And if that target happened to be the great Dalai Lama, who had continued his reincarnations for over a thousand years, then all the better…
“Resist if you like, or obediently stretch out your neck!”
Either way, the lama monks of Potala Palace had no means to stop him.
Then, the Dalai Lama stepped forward.
It seemed he intended to confront Mang-hon himself.
“You wicked fiend.”
The Dalai Lama, his face dyed blue, declared solemnly, “Today, you shall surely die here.”
At his signal, the Two Wise Lamas waiting behind him moved.
A moment later, the silk curtain that Dam Hyun had reattached not long ago tore apart with a loud rip.