“You are the hope of Shaolin.”
The words Yuyeon had heard all his life while living in Shaolin.
From the day he first showed his talent, until the day it had come to now.
By the time he realized it, he was already being called the hope of Shaolin.
“A mere ten-year-old child performed the Baekbosinkwon.”
“His realm is one thing, but… the speed of his growth is on another level.”
“That child is a being sent from heaven. Surely he will rise to become the greatest under heaven one day.”
He learned belatedly that the elders of Shaolin had held repeated meetings about him.
He did not know what the higher-ups had discussed, but Yuyeon had received the Great Reversion Pill three times up until now.
The Great Reversion Pill that one might or might not receive even once in a lifetime—whopping three times.
He received one at age twelve when he performed the Baekbosinkwon.
The year he turned fifteen, he reached the pinnacle and received the second.
The year he turned eighteen, he received the last one and ascended to the Transcendence Realm.
The Murim Alliance immediately assessed Yuyeon's condition and spread the word throughout the Central Plains.
That the youngest Transcendence Realm expert had been born.
That a comet who would lead Shaolin had appeared.
Thus Yuyeon's name spread throughout the Central Plains.
Divine Dragon (Shenlong).
Before he knew it, Yuyeon was being called the Divine Dragon.
He became the summit of the Six Dragons Three Peaks, and a rising star representing the era.
Hearing that news, Yuyeon went right to the Abbot and asked.
Why he was called the Divine Dragon.
When he spoke with doubt, Cheonan the Abbot said to Yuyeon.
That he dreamed of an unseen future.
That it was a choice for a future that needed to change.
They were incomprehensible words.
But Yuyeon did not bother to refute them. Because if it was the Abbot’s will, he had to follow.
However.
It was merely regretful.
The stage of the Dragon Phoenix Conference he had once seen.
What meaning was there in him holding onto the name of Divine Dragon when he could not ascend that stage?
Yuyeon regretted that.
Moreover, what meaning could there be in a reputation built on falsehood?
Yuyeon knew that lies were mixed into his name.
How could he not know?
He had watched everything with his own two eyes.
“Shanxi’s Ouyang Tian wins.”
The Dragon Phoenix Conference of days past.
The one who had dominated the stage with overwhelming martial power.
And the existence that had stood with noble bearing, grasping the momentum of victory.
“Waaaah!!”
Yuyeon’s eyes, watching from afar, burned hot.
The cheers that rang out invaded his ears and penetrated his mind.
That was Yuyeon’s memory of the Dragon Phoenix Conference.
That entire spectacle was engraved in his brain through his eyes.
Yuyeon, younger than he was now, had felt heat rise in his heart watching it.
The boy on the stage with a sullen expression, or rather a look as if something displeased him.
That appearance was an immense shock to Yuyeon.
What should one call it?
The cheers of the crowd and the victory won thereby—an attitude as if none of it mattered.
Such actions and demeanor were strongly embedded in Yuyeon’s mind.
Why was that?
He did not know.
It had simply become so.
If he had not gone outside Shaolin that day out of rebelliousness, and had not secretly watched the Dragon Phoenix Conference, these were things he probably would not have known.
But he saw.
And in that spectacle, he came to know.
No, he had probably known from then on.
From the moment the name Divine Dragon was bestowed upon him.
Even as he watched his elders praise him as a genius, or lift him up calling him hope.
Yuyeon came to know.
He was.
Not the Divine Dragon.
He was.
Not the true genius.
The real one was already outside the world.
Without cowering stifled in a birdcage like him, he had already spread his wings.
Then, where were his own wings?
‘Divine Dragon? What Divine Dragon.’
Laughing self-mockingly, Yuyeon curled up even more.
If he had wings, he had likely plucked them out himself.
What meaning was there in wings someone else had attached?
Yuyeon thought there was none.
Stifling and suffocating.
As if vomiting up those emotions, Yuyeon began a shallow rebellion.
“You are hope.”
“You are the hope of Shaolin.”
“It is a relief that you exist.”
Words heard countless times a day became daggers, stabbing his heart over and over.
Unable to endure it, he avoided them and went outside.
Though outside merely meant within Henan, even that was an act of rebellion for him.
That day was winter.
A time when Yuyeon was not yet called the Divine Dragon.
Snow fell and it was cold outside. His hands were frigid.
It was weather where the cold felt unusually severe because he wore thin clothes.
Even as he trembled, it was fine.
He could have enveloped himself in warmth by circulating internal energy, but he did not.
He wanted to feel this cold a little more.
At least this feeling was better than the suffocation.
“Haa….”
He blew breath onto his frigid palm.
Warmth he created himself seeped in.
Warmth made by his own hands.
At that peculiar resonance, Yuyeon caressed his hand.
Winter cold as biting frost. An age when such things were better than raising one’s realm.
Yuyeon was like that then.
Perhaps that was why.
“What are you doing here?”
That time when he was unusually alone and lonely.
Fittingly, that meeting became the starting point.
At the somewhat dry voice, Yuyeon hurriedly covered his face with cloth and raised his head.
“…!!”
Seeing the owner of the voice, Yuyeon unknowingly widened his eyes.
It was him.
The one he had seen atop the Dragon Phoenix Conference stage.
The boy now called the True Dragon (Jinlong).
He had heard they were the same age.
To think he would meet him here.
He was looking at Yuyeon with a strange gaze.
“The weather is like this, what are you doing here?”
“…Ah… ah….”
To the approaching words, Yuyeon could not answer at all.
Clothes much thinner than his own.
Clothes that looked damp with sweat and a somehow tired expression.
Was it an illusion?
The moment he met him, it felt as if the cold was lifting.
As if the surrounding temperature had risen.
“Hmm.”
Seeing Yuyeon unable to answer at all, he tilted his head.
“Have you eaten?”
“….”
He did not answer this time either. However, as if the answer was not important, something was already placed in his hand.
“If you haven’t eaten, at least eat that. It is delicious. I come all the way here for this.”
He said, grinning.
Yuyeon had to lower his eyes looking at the warm food placed on his hand.
It was dumplings.
“….”
Meat was placed atop the palm of one who was forbidden from eating meat.
Flustered seeing that, Yuyeon was about to say something, but he was already walking far away.
Should he call out?
Yuyeon pondered so for a moment, but.
“Young Master, you bought those again?”
“Yeah.”
“I told you I would buy them.”
“It is fine. I happened to have business outside. Ah, but some strange rumor has spread at the inn….”
A woman appeared and approached the young man’s side, beginning a conversation.
Seeing that, Yuyeon could not bring himself to call out.
He simply stared at the dumplings in his hand.
“….”
If there was a problem, it was surely then.
That time when he could not endure the rebellion.
Surely, that was the problem.
“…”
Yuyeon looked at half of his belt that had fallen to the ground.
When had it been cut?
He had not seen the sword approach nor the attack land.
“Focus.”
The woman’s words lingered in his ears.
Yuyeon raised his head and looked straight ahead.
A woman with golden hair and golden eyes.
A beauty whose heart would flutter just by looking at her.
The world’s greatest sword.
Successor of Wi Hyogun, the Sword Venerable.
A trace of the Alliance Leader called the greatest of all time, and one of the trials he had to overcome.
No, rather than his own trial.
‘The trial of Shaolin and the Murim Alliance.’
Yuyeon was already guessing the Alliance’s intent.
Thinking of it, the suffocation welled up again.
He wanted to escape from here and run to the inn.
He wanted to go eat dumplings.
This was a habit Yuyeon had developed since that day.
When stifled and suffocated.
Escaping outside Shaolin and eating dumplings.
A solace he granted himself that had arisen since that day.
But he could not do so now.
Therefore, Yuyeon composed his breathing.
Roughly while counting to three looking at the woman, he involuntarily began chanting sutras inwardly.
A devilish countenance.
For Yuyeon, who possessed no immunity to women, it was truly arduous.
Sswuk.
Rather than spitting out words, Yuyeon took a stance.
He slightly extended his left hand forward. He adjusted his lower body.
“Thank you.”
He offered gratitude rather than an apology.
“Thanks to you, I have come to my senses.”
Barely.
Really, he had barely held onto his thread of sanity.
He muttered.
The reason he was here. He kept thinking of that.
Seureureung.
At Yuyeon’s demeanor, the woman, Wi Seola, also took a stance.
At that moment.
Saaaah—!!!
An enormous aura poured down upon Yuyeon.
It was as if dozens of sword tips were aimed at him.
Murderous.
Involuntarily, cold sweat flowed.
Feeling such a threat.
“Huu….”
Yuyeon exhaled softly.
At the same time.
Sswuk.
He slowly threw a punch.
A slow speed to Wi Seola’s eyes.
Watching the slowly executed motion, Wi Seola suddenly furrowed her brow.
It was not because it was a pathetic movement.
Rather, the opposite.
Sswi-ik!
Wi Seola moved her body quickly.
This was movement solely for evasion.
That choice was correct.
Tung.
Yuyeon’s punch met the air.
At that moment.
Mount Tai crashed down upon the spot where Wi Seola had been.
Kuaaaaaah—!!
“…!!!”
The eyes of the referee outside the dueling stage widened.
A whirlwind surged from one fist.
“Ba-Baekbosinkwon!”
Someone in the spectators’ seats shouted.
“It is Shaolin’s Baekbosinkwon (Hundred-Pace Divine Fist)…!”
One fist possessing overwhelming destructive power.
Shaolin’s ultimate technique that throws a punch to return everything to the form of nothingness.
Yuyeon unfolded the extreme martial art that only a few among Shaolin’s martial monks could use.
Merely once.
With that one fist, Yuyeon proved his presence.
“Waaaaah—!!”
Cheers erupted.
The youngest Transcendence Realm expert.
Yuyeon began to show the worth of that immaculate name.
“…”
Cheers reminiscent of that time.
Even while hearing them, Yuyeon’s expression was calm.
He could not hear their voices.
His eyes darted rapidly.
Tuk.
A presence was felt.
Yuyeon immediately turned his head.
Swhiiiiik!!
A blade grazed his cheek.
He turned his head and rotated his body.
Using that rotational force, he powered his lower body.
Hwiririk!
His toes sliced through the air.
Kung!
Yuyeon’s toes and Wi Seola’s sword clashed, and internal energy burst out.
Kwaaang!
It was an enormous sound.
The shockwave was so great that vibrations reached the spectator seats.
At the stinging pressure, goosebumps rose on the bodies of the crowd.
One exchange.
Having experienced this, Wi Seola tried to deflect rather than block the attack.
‘Strong.’
The opponent was too strong.
Hwik!
She changed her grip on the handle and deflected Yuyeon’s attack along the sword body.
She had thought to dig right into his chest, but.
Huwung!
“…!”
At the moment she judged so, Yuyeon’s fist was already approaching Wi Seola’s face.
She raised her head and dodged.
Kuaaaaang!!
Baekbosinkwon exploded and passed over her head.
Her skin felt as if it would tear from the grazing air.
Wi Seola furrowed her brow and exuded air pressure.
Golden aura.
The clear internal energy of the Wolseonmugeom began to surround Wi Seola’s body.
Acceleration attached to her movements.
Sword energy seeped into the sword.
Wi Seola’s hair began to gradually shine.
Kkigigik!
She unfolded her footwork and slightly widened the distance.
The martial art called Baekbosinkwon had long range.
She turned her gaze while being mindful of that.
“Hup!”
Yuyeon also wrapped himself in aura.
Pusyusyuk!
So fierce was the movement of the aura that water vapor spurted out from the friction.
Yellow aura resembling the golden aura of the Wolseonmugeom.
Yuyeon and Wi Seola, both wrapped in aura, faced each other.
“…”
“…”
There was no conversation between them.
It was unnecessary. Because with the exchange just now, they had already finished the conversation they needed.
Geugeugeugeugeuk!
The energies of the martial artists mixed.
As a result, vibrations occurred and dust rose into the air above the dueling stage.
The eyes of the innocently-looking Wi Seola transformed sharply, and cold sweat formed on her skin as well.
They faced each other briefly.
Jeureureuk.
Slowly, Wi Seola’s sweat ran down her cheek toward her chin.
A droplet gathered there soon fell to the ground.
Tok.
The moment the sweat drop touched the floor.
Sswik!
Kuuuuung!!
The two martial artists clashed.
*********************
Kwaaaaaaah—!!!
An enormous flow of internal energy.
Its form was like a whirlwind in a typhoon.
A wind of mixed gold and yellow raged.
Kwang! Kwaaang!
As if an earthquake had struck, vibrations burst in all directions.
Fierce. Yet heavy.
The amount of internal energy both possessed was such that even with the same movements, the shockwaves differed in level.
“H-heok….”
“T-that is an unbelievable fight….”
“What…! Is that truly the fight of rising stars?”
Beyond admiration, they could hardly even express shock.
As if facing an illusion, everyone had to tremble.
So fierce was it that even the martial artists fighting on the adjacent dueling stage stopped and watched the two fight.
Beonjjeok!!
Lightning flashed.
Wi Seola’s sword light flashed dozens of times per second.
That appearance was somewhat like twinkling stars.
In comparison, Yuyeon’s strikes were far lower in frequency.
Kung! Kungkung!
One reverberation in the gaps between the flashes.
However, in terms of power, it could not be compared to numbers.
Because his single blow was shaking the entire area.
Baekbosinkwon containing martial arts of enlightenment in each strike.
A single extension resembled the Eclipse of Tuapacheonmu.
Seeing that the activation conditions and movements were similar, perhaps….
‘The amount of internal energy used is probably similar too.’
If there was a difference, Baekbosinkwon focused on destruction,
while Tuapacheonmu placed meaning on tearing.
That difference would be particularly large, but ultimately, the feeling was similar.
High power and great vibration meant that much internal energy was consumed.
The Divine Dragon was using such power continuously.
‘How big is his internal energy vessel?’
I could do that much lightly.
That is thanks to the fortuitous encounters I obtained in the past, but what the hell is that guy?
He uses what others call a finishing move as if it is a basic movement.
It feels absurd. Is he crazy?
‘Could it be that this is how others feel when they see me?’
That thought suddenly occurred to him.
Kuaaaaaaaaaah!!!
Each time Baekbosinkwon exploded, it tore through the air.
The enlightenment contained within, not to mention the condensed internal energy, drew admiration.
Yes, it meant that even I admired it.
‘Shaolin… crazy bastards.’
What the hell did Shaolin create?
The more he watched the fight between the Divine Dragon and Wi Seola, only a hollow laugh came out.
The reason was none other than this.
‘This is different from the previous life.’
The Ghost Monk (Guiseng) who had operated as a Demon in his previous life.
He had not faced him many times.
Only briefly when the bastard died.
The Guiseng of that time had certainly been strong.
He did not deny that.
The guy was strong.
He was such a strong martial artist that the Heavenly Venerable deployed directly to kill him.
But.
Whether the Divine Dragon of his rising star days had been that strong was another matter.
No, he must have been strong.
That is why he was called the Divine Dragon, leaving Shaolin’s position aside.
However, even so.
“…What the hell is that guy?”
He would not have been at that level.
And for good reason.
‘How is he using Simkwon…?’
The Divine Dragon was incomplete, but he was clearly touching upon the mental image.