“I am ashamed to face you, Family Head Hwa. It is my deepest regret that you experienced such an unpleasant incident right here at Shaolin.”
Great Monk Hyeon-u, who was nearly three times Mujin’s age, bowed his head to him.
“Not at all. This is all my own karma. No one was hurt, so please don’t worry about it.”
Seated opposite him in the guest hall assigned to the Yeomhwa Family, Great Monk Hyeon-u still couldn’t lift his head, his expression full of apology.
He found it absurd, even in hindsight, that such a thing could happen in the short time he was away meeting the abbot.
Had it happened at the foot of Mount Song, he might have been able to overlook it.
But for his guest and disciple to be attacked by another martial artist in broad daylight, right near the guest hall—it was preposterous no matter how he thought about it.
The thought of what might have happened if Dojin or Soyeon had been injured by the Iron Fist Clan boy’s Seven Wounds Fist made him dizzy.
Knowing Family Head Hwa’s personality, it was a matter that would have undoubtedly ended in bloodshed.
If his own sibling were harmed by the same Seven Wounds Fist that had afflicted him in his youth, it was only human nature that anyone would find it difficult to suppress their killing intent.
Great Monk Hyeon-u couldn’t say a word, keeping his head bowed, when a person entered the room.
“I am Hyeon-bo-eun, the master of the guest hall. I heard there was an unfortunate incident.”
As the old monk with a small frame entered, Great Monk Hyeon-u rose to his feet and bellowed.
“You! What in the world were you doing? How could the master of the guest hall abandon his post and wander off?!”
At the rebuke from Great Monk Hyeon-u, the master of the Arhat Hall and the most senior monk after the abbot, the guest hall master pressed his palms together.
“Amitabha. With the guest hall overflowing with guests for the Orthodox Grand Tournament, there was much to attend to. My apologies, Senior Brother.”
“Please, don’t do that. It makes me uncomfortable. This incident was instigated by the grudge between the Kongtong Sect and the Yeomhwa Family in the first place.”
At Mujin’s words, Great Monk Hyeon-u finally sat down.
“I have heard the story. As the master of the guest hall, I have no words to offer for this incident.”
“It’s quite all right. No one was injured, and since the grudge of the Yeomhwa Family has caused trouble for Shaolin, I am the one who should be sorry.”
“Amitabha. Thank you for your kind words.”
Mujin treated the guest hall master with the utmost courtesy.
‘My only crime is having a younger brother who is a disciple of Shaolin.’
Whether he liked it or not, Dojin was tied to Shaolin.
Even if it was only as a lay disciple, the bond between master and student was as tenacious and difficult to sever as blood ties. He couldn’t push Great Monk Hyeon-bo-eun, who was Dojin’s martial uncle, into a difficult position.
If Dojin had no connection to Shaolin and they had merely come to watch the Orthodox Grand Tournament, Mujin would have long since sought out the Shaolin Abbot and raised hell.
He would have thrown an absolute fit, demanding to know how they would take responsibility for the ugly incident that occurred within Shaolin’s walls, but for Dojin’s sake, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
After they talked for a while, Great Monk Hyeon-bo-eun cautiously brought up a topic.
“Come to think of it, you must not have had a proper look around Shaolin after such a terrible experience.”
‘This is getting tiresome.’
It was obvious he was about to offer a personal tour. Seeing this, Mujin nodded.
“Yes.”
“Then allow me to guide you personally. Shaolin has many famous sights.”
“Then I will be in your care. My siblings seemed to want to see the sights anyway. I will shamelessly accept your offer.”
As he rose from his seat, everyone else in the compound also stood up.
Abbess Jinhwa and her disciples from the Emei Sect, as well as No-sak, Masok, and Mujin’s young siblings, all filed out of the guest hall.
“Brother. I want to see Yijoam…”
Soyeon whispered in a small voice, glancing at the adults and tugging on the hem of Mujin’s sleeve.
Though she tried to keep her voice down, it wasn’t quiet enough to escape the ears of the masters present.
“I will guide you to Yijoam. On the way, let’s stop by Hyeonmujeong and have a taste of the medicinal water that springs only from there. The water of Hyeonmujeong is a key ingredient in Shaolin’s elixirs, so its taste will be different from the water of the secular world.”
With those words, everyone followed Great Monk Hyeon-bo-eun as he led the way.
‘How different can water be?’
Mujin, who just wanted to go back to his room and catch up on sleep, moved his feet without letting his true feelings show.
They walked until they reached Hyeonmujeong, where a massive, strange rock resembling a black tortoise stood. The group climbed it and drank the medicinal water gushing from a small spring, tasting the waters of Hyeonmujeong.
“Indeed. The water of Hyeonmujeong is as fine as ever.”
Great Monk Hyeon-u smiled at Abbess Jinhwa’s words.
“Does it not compare to the Hwagakjeong of Emei?”
“Yes. It is no less than the medicinal water of Hwagakjeong.”
Mujin tasted the water of Hyeonmujeong, feeling inwardly unimpressed.
‘What’s so great about it, other than being ice-cold?’
Water was just water.
He couldn’t understand why they were making such a fuss over what was essentially tasteless water.
As they began walking again, a narrow path leading to Yijoam appeared.
Mujin’s gaze naturally shifted to a pile of stones next to the path, which was roped off with a golden cord and covered in talismans.
!!!
For a moment, Mujin doubted his own eyes.
“That… that’s…”
As Mujin’s eyes widened, fixed on the spot, Great Monk Hyeon-bo-eun, following his gaze, spoke up.
“Ah, that is the sword of the Divine Demon, who brought great turmoil to the martial world thirty years ago. It is a demonic sword with such a strong malevolent energy that we had to seal it like this. It was originally sealed in the Cave of Repentance, but fifteen years ago, when the seal was lifted, a child who curiously grabbed the sword was severely afflicted by its demonic energy. After that, we sealed the sword here, where the Shaolin monks run their training courses, so it could be watched over.”
Great Monk Hyeon-u added to the guest hall master’s explanation.
“Yijoam is a path frequented by many of our monks, so we created this Demon-Sealing Tomb here as a reminder not to forget the lesson of the Divine Demon’s mutual destruction.”
At the words ‘Demon-Sealing Tomb,’ Mujin’s eyes darkened.
‘They dare seal my sect’s divine artifact in a tomb?’
The sword, with only its hilt protruding from the pile of stones, was undoubtedly the Demonic Spirit Sword of the Demonic Spirit Sect.
To see the divine sword, said to have been forged by striking demonic-energy-infused black iron a million times, buried in a pile of rocks without its scabbard, roped off, and plastered with anti-demonic talismans, made Mujin’s blood boil.
“Family Head Hwa, is something wrong? You look troubled.”
“Ah, it’s nothing.”
Mujin forced himself to shake his head at Great Monk Hyeon-bo-eun’s words.
Seeing this, Great Monk Hyeon-u spoke.
“Is Family Head Hwa not the one who was recognized early on by Great Martial Uncle Hyegwang for possessing the Heavenly Martial Body? The demonic energy from the sword must be unsettling his spirit.”
“Ah! Of course. To feel its demonic energy even though it is sealed with anti-demonic stones and talismans… Truly a martial talent bestowed by the heavens.”
Great Monk Hyeon-bo-eun nodded repeatedly as if it were a great revelation, his eyes shining as he looked at Mujin.
‘What nonsense. The Demonic Spirit Sword isn’t a person; how could its damned demonic energy just leak out? Unless a human hand touches it, the Demonic Spirit Sword doesn’t emit a shred of demonic energy, let alone a sharp aura.’
The Demonic Spirit Sword, born containing demonic spirit energy, showed no sign of its power unless it was held in a person’s hand.
“Then let us quickly pass by this ominous object.”
Following the others who quickened their pace, Mujin finally tore his gaze away from the Demonic Spirit Sword.
‘Master, I’m sorry. It’s because of this foolish disciple that our sacred artifact has been disgraced like this. I swear I’ll get it back, no matter what it takes, so please don’t worry.’
Mujin glanced up at the sky for a moment, making a silent vow, and then continued walking.
He was dragged around by the guest hall master until sunset, visiting all of Shaolin’s so-called famous sights, before finally returning to the guest hall.
He endured it by watching his two siblings enjoy themselves, but for Mujin, who felt no inspiration from the famous sights or places supposedly filled with pure energy, it was simply a tedious time.
Moreover, after a dinner at the guest hall that consisted of nothing but various greens, his stomach felt bloated but empty.
“Haaah.”
A sigh escaped him automatically once he was alone with No-sak in the main hall.
“Family Head, what is it?”
“I’m tired. I’ve used up so much energy, but the food was so lacking.”
No-sak nodded at Mujin’s words.
“Eating only greens does leave one feeling empty, doesn’t it? Shall I go and find some meat?”
“How, in the middle of Shaolin?”
“I think I saw quite a few pheasants near Yijoam earlier. I could catch a few and secretly roast them…”
“Don’t bother. Your footwork isn’t good enough. What a disgrace it would be if you tried to catch a pheasant, fell, and died? Dong-jeok is the one with decent footwork.”
“I’m perfectly capable of…”
“Enough. More importantly…”
-Remember the Demon-Sealing Tomb we saw earlier?
In the space where only the two of them were present, Mujin sent a telepathic message. No-sak looked around before nodding.
-Yes!
-Do you think you could steal it?
-…Impossible.
After a moment’s thought, No-sak shook his head.
-Just as I thought, right?
-Yes. The monks hiding and guarding it seemed to be on par with me, and there were four of those damn monks.
-Not four, eight. Even for me, it would be impossible to steal it without revealing my true arts… What should I do?
No-sak looked shocked to hear there were four more hidden monks he hadn’t detected.
After a brief pause, No-sak asked with a puzzled expression.
-But why do you want to steal the Divine Demon’s sword?
-I have my reasons.
-…
Although he couldn’t understand why Mujin would want to steal the Divine Demon’s sword, No-sak figured he must have a good reason and didn’t press further.
Mujin wracked his brain for a way to steal the Demonic Spirit Sword without anyone knowing, but he couldn’t come up with an answer.
‘If it comes down to it, I’ll have to kill all eight of them…’
He could certainly steal it if he quickly killed the eight hidden monks.
The problem was that too many people were gathered at Shaolin for the Orthodox Grand Tournament.
There were eyes everywhere, and even if he killed all the witnesses, the incident would become too big.
If it was discovered that he had committed murder at Shaolin…
‘I don’t even want to think about it.’
Thinking of his two young siblings, he knew he had to be careful.
Thus, a night of deep contemplation passed.
After going to bed early, he woke up to a bustling Shaolin Temple from the crack of dawn.
The prelude to the Orthodox Grand Tournament had finally begun.
Countless people flocked to Hwajeongbong Peak.
Hwajeongbong, a wide, concave basin at the center of the peak, was packed with spectators, and all the martial artists who had ascended Mount Song were gathered near the four installed tournament stages.
-To all our comrades of the martial world who have gathered for the Orthodox Grand Tournament, I, Hyeon-gak, Abbot of Shaolin, offer my gratitude.
Though he spoke softly, his voice echoed throughout Hwajeongbong.
Impressed by his profound inner energy, many people clasped their hands in a martial salute as he bowed with his palms pressed together.
-It has been five years since the last Orthodox Grand Tournament. As this is a festival for the future pillars who will lead the Orthodox Path, I ask that you leave no personal grudges in your matches and use this as an opportunity to plant the seeds for future growth. Now, let the Orthodox Grand Tournament begin.
As the Shaolin Abbot’s words ended, a roar erupted from the crowd.
-Waaaaaaah!!
Their cheers echoed across Mount Song.
-All eight contestants from Group One, please ascend the stages!
Martial artists began to climb onto their respective stages.
However, strangely, only six people ascended the stages that should have held eight—two for each match.
The monks officiating fair matches on each stage raised the hand of the contestants who stood alone and shouted.
-Group One, Match Two. A walkover win!
-Group One, Match Three. A walkover win!
As the monks declared the walkover wins, the spectators began to murmur.
-What in the world is going on?
For contestants to drop out of the main tournament—and not just any tournament, but the Orthodox Grand Tournament—was by no means a common occurrence.
-Haven’t you heard? Look at the match-ups. They were all against the Kongtong Sect disciples.
-Kongtong? Why?
-Hah, you’re really out of the loop. You mean you still don’t know that the Kongtong disciples were humiliated by the Hidden Dragon of Sichuan and left the mountain?
-What are you talking about?
Soon after, the story of what had happened at the guest hall yesterday spread rapidly among the gathered spectators.
And so, the first match of the Orthodox Grand Tournament began.
“What do you think?”
Mujin replied to No-sak’s question with an indifferent expression.
“The stronger one will win, obviously.”
Thanks to the considerate seating arrangement that provided a section exclusively for the Yeomhwa Family in the VIP area, Mujin watched the matches from a comfortable spot, though he had little interest in them.
The fighters on the remaining two stages were all from minor sects, their skills just barely passable.
They were skilled enough to be called first-rate, one way or another.
But to Mujin, it was just an unremarkable fight between low-level martial artists.
“Brother, that fist master from the Gangdong Sect is going to win, right?”
“I told you, no. The swordsman’s techniques are sharper. Look closely.”
Mujin smiled at Soyeon and Dojin’s exchange and answered.
“The Gangdong Sect fist master’s strikes have power, but they fall short of the swordsman’s sword energy, and his movements are not very wise. It seems it will be difficult for him to overcome the swordsman.”
He answered much more kindly than he had to No-sak.
“But his momentum is much more aggressive…”
“His courage to charge at a sword without fear is quite admirable, but just charging recklessly like that without a plan… well, it doesn’t seem very wise.”
After the two martial artists exchanged over 130 moves, the match ended exactly as Mujin had predicted.
The fist master from the Gangdong Sect conceded defeat to the swordsman from the Hojul Sword Sect.
“So close…”
Soyeon said, watching the concluded match.
Just then, No-sak’s eyes widened as if he’d had a realization, and he sent a telepathic message to Mujin.
-Family Head! I have a plan.
-What is it?
Despite Mujin’s indifferent response, No-sak continued with a smile.
-While the Orthodox Grand Tournament is underway, everyone’s attention will be focused here. If we use this opportunity, won’t we find a chance to steal the demonic sword?
-You think I haven’t considered that? If the demonic sword disappears while I happen to be away, I’ll be the number one suspect, won’t I?
-Ah… you’re right.
No-sak’s expression quickly turned sullen as he cast his eyes toward the martial artists ascending the next stage. Just then, a familiar old man approached Mujin.
“There you are. Have you all been well?”
“Hello, sir.”
“Have you been well?”
The Poison Emperor accepted Dojin and Soyeon’s greetings, patting both children on the head.
“Yes. I heard there was some trouble yesterday. Are you two unharmed?”
“Yes!”
“We are.”
Mujin glanced at the Poison Emperor and spoke indifferently.
“You’ve arrived. Please, have a seat here.”
The Poison Emperor smiled at his casual invitation.
-You seem to be in a foul mood.
-I saw the Demon-Sealing Tomb.
-Ah! I see. I suppose that wouldn’t be a pleasant sight for you.
Just as Mujin was about to reply, a monk rushed toward the VIP section where the Shaolin elders and the abbot were gathered, flying through the air using his lightness art.
A moment later, in the middle of a match, the abbot himself launched into the air and hurried off somewhere.
“Looks like something has happened.”
At the Poison Emperor’s words, Mujin quickly called out to Great Monk Hyeon-u, who was rushing past.
“Great Monk. Is there some trouble?”
“Well… It seems the demonic sword sealed in the Demon-Sealing Tomb has been stolen.”
!!
