Chapter 91: Divine Monk (2)

Once the two had calmed down to some extent, Sewoon immediately made a request.

He asked them not to tell anyone that he had woken up—at least for today.

“Hm, understood. Certainly, that would be more comfortable for you, Young Master.”

“Yes, Sewoon. Focus on recuperating as much as you can.”

The two nodded, indicating they understood.

It was obvious that if word got out about Sewoon’s recovery, all sorts of people would come flocking.

While there would certainly be people like Yoo Jinhak, the Alliance Leader, or Jaegal Hoon, the Chief Strategist, who would come out of genuine concern…

‘Most of them would just be leeches.’

Undoubtedly, the majority would be trash—those trying to forge last-minute connections with Sewoon, who had gained fame through the recent Blood Massacre.

He didn’t have time to waste on such useless matters.

He hadn’t even had the chance to express his gratitude to Ha Yeong and Do Yecheon, to whom he owed his life.

Sewoon rose straight from the sickbed.

Although it had been four days since he last moved, perhaps due to the Three Lives Cycle, his body felt completely refreshed, as if washed clean.

Harin and Yeo Seon were startled by Sewoon’s sudden action.

The two tried to dissuade him, insisting he needed rest.

“I truly feel fine now. Still, I must at least express my thanks to the Divine Monk who saved my life.”

But oddly, the two looked puzzled at Sewoon’s words.

“...What do you mean?”

“Um, Young Master, aside from the physician in charge of your care, no one has entered this room.”

Their words came as a surprise.

They claimed that over the past four days, they had stood guard outside the door, and no one had come in or out.

Their eyes, showing not the slightest hint of deceit, momentarily threw Sewoon into confusion.

If not for the lingering presence of the Three Lives Cycle within his body, he might have dismissed it all as a dream brought on by illness.

‘If it was that Divine Monk...’

Then surely, it had been a mystical and mysterious force beyond his comprehension.

That was how Sewoon made sense of it.

The monk known as the Divine Monk, Master Gongseong, was revered not only by the martial world but also by ordinary civilians.

Not because he had once served as the former Abbot of Shaolin.

The old monk was far more a true monk than a martial artist, embodying the essence of Shaolin. He had devoted his entire life to the salvation of all living beings.

Around twenty years ago, when Master Gongseong passed down the Abbotship to his disciple Master Gakgong and fully retired from both the world and the martial community—

What the orthodox martial artists most lamented was something else entirely.

It was because the old monk, after years of asceticism, was said to have attained an extraordinary enlightenment and divine powers beyond reach.

‘I remember they said he could foretell the future. I thought it was just a rumor…’

Still, as mentioned before, the old monk insisted on severing all ties with the secular world, even against his disciples’ pleas, and ultimately left Shaolin.

Since then, he had lived alone in Jamun Pavilion, a residence arranged by Yoo Jinhak.

‘...In the previous life, even during the Blood Cult uprising, he never left seclusion.’

In that timeline, the old monk had remained in isolation even during the bloody chaos in the martial world.

But last night, he had suddenly appeared before Sewoon.

Why?

Why him, specifically?

Sewoon’s mind was swirling with too many questions when—

Squeak.

At last, he arrived at the place that could answer all those questions.

‘...This must be it.’

Before Sewoon stood a quiet, unassuming pavilion.

Compared to the grand, lavish halls of the Murim Alliance, it looked no better than a thatched hut in a rural village.

Even the signboard under the eaves that read Jamun Pavilion was worn and faded from age.

Step.

As Sewoon stepped into the courtyard—

[Amitabha.]

‘...!’

A deep chant resonated thunderously in his ears.

It was not the voice of the Divine Monk. Several voices overlapped, echoing together.

Yet there was not a single shadow of a person in sight.

[State your affiliation, name, and purpose for coming here, visitor.]

[If you do not answer immediately…!]

KUUUNG!

SWAAA!

Eight powerful auras surged and exploded around Sewoon.

Even he was surprised by the awe-inspiring, mountain-like presence of these Buddhist powers.

[It is said that “Those who come with good intent do not come, and those who come do not have good intent”–!]

[You shall not escape grave misfortune, visitor!]

In that instant, Sewoon instinctively realized who they were.

‘The Eight Guardian Monks—!’

They were the highest-level martial monks of Shaolin, ranked even above the Eighteen Arhats, and solely tasked with protecting the Abbot.

Naturally, the difference in strength between them and Sewoon was overwhelming.

But since he had been invited, there was no reason to back down.

SWAAA!

On the contrary, Sewoon met their energy with calm composure and declared confidently:

“I am Sewoon of the Sichuan Tang Clan.”

[……!!]

As soon as he revealed his identity, silence fell over the space.

But only for a moment.

SSSS.

Like a heat haze, the air began to ripple.

‘...So a formation had been deployed.’

From within it, one monk slowly emerged.

“...Follow me.”

Though Sewoon had yet to state his purpose, the monk began leading him inward.

It seemed the Divine Monk had already informed them in advance.

But as he followed the monk, Sewoon sensed something off.

‘Why me?’

The gaze the monk cast toward him was chillingly cold.

And within that look, Sewoon clearly felt a sense of hostility directed at him.

“...Please wait here.”

The monk had Sewoon wait in front of the room where Master Gongseong resided and then left.

And at that moment—

“Master! If we do not initiate the Kill Command, how can we stop the chaos in the martial world and eradicate evil?!”

“……!!”

A shout was heard from inside the room.

There was only one person in the entire murim who could call the Divine Monk Gongseong their master.

“Gakgong(覺空), you wretched Gakgong….”

It was none other than the current abbot of Shaolin, Heavenly Fist Tathagata, Great Monk Gakgong.

The Divine Monk spoke to his disciple, who was pouring out his seething rage, with a sorrowful voice.

“Are you planning to break even the precept of Not Uttering Falsehoods (不妄語戒) now?”

“……!!”

“Not a shred of truth has ever been in your words. Your only purpose was vengeance for Il-ryun, was it not?”

Il-ryun.

He was one of the former Nine Dragons Four Phoenixes whom Sewoon had failed to save, and the sole disciple of Great Monk Gakgong.

“How dare you judge good and evil, and then slaughter and annihilate them?”

“They are evil!!”

Great Monk Gakgong’s voice burst forth, filled with venom.

Rage.

Sorrow.

Resentment.

In his cry, countless emotions pressed down, tangled together.

“How can you say such a thing! You yourself watched that child grow since the moment he was abandoned at the temple gate—!”

“…Amitabha.”

Swaa!

‘…What!’

The Divine Monk’s mantra resounded like a wondrous sound art (音功) or the legendary Heart Speech of Radiant Wisdom (慧光心語), echoing inside his mind.

Just by hearing it, both body and mind grew calm.

And it wasn’t just Sewoon who felt it.

Even the qi radiating from Great Monk Gakgong, one of the Ten Great Experts, quietly subsided.

“Go back now.”

“…My resolve will not change.”

“I know.”

Silence followed the Divine Monk’s words.

Creak!

The door blocking Sewoon’s path swung wide open.

Great Monk Gakgong stood there, tall and broad, like a great general of the imperial army.

“You…!”

“Tang Sewoon of the Tang Clan greets the Abbot.”

Both men were startled upon recognizing each other.

Sewoon’s surprise was not due to the immense qi Gakgong radiated, nor because he was Shaolin’s abbot.

‘…Is this truly the same Great Monk Gakgong from before my regression?’

For the Gakgong he remembered before his regression looked utterly different.

When the Blood Cult raised chaos, Shaolin did not cower in hiding.

Great Monk Gakgong and his disciple Il-ryun had joined the Anti-Blood Alliance.

Together with the Sword Queen Do Ha-yeong, they fought fierce battles on the front lines.

But even then, Gakgong had never mercilessly executed his enemies. He had been one who tried to save even demonic practitioners, searching for a sliver of redemption in them.

Yet the monk before his eyes now…

His gaze was that of a vengeful spirit who could not conceal it.

‘He’s become a completely different man than in my past life.’

At that moment, Great Monk Gakgong spoke to Sewoon in a chilling voice.

“So, it was because of you.”

“…?”

…Because of me?

At Gakgong’s incomprehensible words, Sewoon faltered.

“The villains of the unorthodox factions stole away my disciple, and you… you have taken away my master.”

“-!!”

The words that followed were even more shocking.

What was that supposed to mean?

That he had taken away the Divine Monk?

It was absurd, yet the clear hostility radiating from Gakgong left Sewoon with no choice but to quietly gather his inner strength.

If the other suddenly struck, he would be ready to defend himself.

But thankfully, that was all.

After staring at Sewoon for a long time, Great Monk Gakgong finally spoke his last words with difficulty.

“Whether you are truly worth it or not… this monk will see it through to the end.”

“……”

Sewoon said nothing. He simply met his gaze in silence.

Then, Great Monk Gakgong brushed past Sewoon and disappeared.

Despite the man’s unprovoked hostility, Sewoon did not react. There was only one reason.

‘…He must be in unbearable pain and sorrow.’

Sewoon knew well the grief and loss of losing one’s family to an enemy.

For some reason, Great Monk Gakgong overlapped in his mind with his own self before his regression.

“Come in.”

“…!”

At that moment, the voice of Divine Monk Gongseong rang out.

Taking a deep breath, Sewoon slowly stepped into the room.

There, sitting cross-legged with his back turned, was an old monk.

Unlike the grand figure of Great Monk Gakgong, this one’s frame was frail, like a small stone Buddha left on the roadside.

‘…Impossible!’

But from his entire body flowed an unfathomably deep and mysterious energy, making him appear like a giant.

Immediately, Sewoon bowed with proper courtesy.

“Sewoon of the Tang Clan greets Shaolin’s former abbot.”

“There is no ‘former abbot.’ I am nothing but a decrepit monk.”

Hearing him properly left no more doubt.

The one who had visited Sewoon’s room last night and offered him teachings—this was indeed the very same man.

“Then, I shall call you Great Monk.”

“Do as you please.”

With a chuckle, Divine Monk Gongseong turned his body.

‘…What!!’

At that first meeting with the Divine Monk, Sewoon’s pupils quivered violently, as though an earthquake shook within them.

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