Considering the possibility, Dokgo Seong spread the paper packet wide open. Inside were several black pills.
“So these are sleeping pills?”
“That is correct. Even an ox would be unable to resist falling dead asleep for three days and three nights.”
Dokgo Seong peered into the packet with doubtful eyes, then suddenly took out one pill and put it in his mouth. He meant to test whether the other man’s words were true. Though startled, Do Wicheong made no move at all to stop him. Rather, he spoke to him with a smile.
“Young Cult Leader, it matters not if you take the medicine, but every moment is urgent. If you are curious about the taste, or if you doubt it, you may take it together with the Shaolin Sage-Monk. In that case, while you sleep, we shall escort you out of Mount Song.”
Because of his attitude, Dokgo Seong was finally able to set aside his suspicions about the medicine. If it had been poison, the other man would surely have stopped him—of course, assuming that he was truly the Young Cult Leader of the Cult. Dokgo Seong spat the pill out and smiled faintly. He had only put the pill in his mouth; he had not swallowed it.
“How much should I use?”
“Use just one pill. It dissolves well in water, so mixing it into tea should not arouse suspicion.”
“Understood. I shall go at once. You all wait here.”
“We shall obey without fail.”
With hope that he might find a new life, Dokgo Seong left the place without delay. But he never noticed that Do Wicheong was watching his back with glittering eyes.
“What brings you here in the dead of night?”
“I just came because I wanted to see you, Sage-Monk. Hehehe.”
Watching Dokgo Seong let out a strange laugh, the Shaolin Sage-Monk Hyejeong smiled benevolently. Though he was the son of a devil, affection had grown over time, and the Sage-Monk’s manner toward Dokgo Seong was warm beyond measure. Even though Dokgo Seong’s appearance was so hideous that merely looking at him made one’s brow furrow.
“Return to your quarters and sleep. The night is very deep.”
“I’ve never been one to sleep much at night, you see. So I thought I’d have a cup of tea with you for the first time in a while…”
“You little rascal… But what has gotten into you? You, seeking out tea when you usually avoid it…”
The Shaolin Sage-Monk Hyejeong was an old monk whose benevolent bearing was apparent at a glance. Though he had lost a considerable amount of inner power because of the Sevenfold Severing Sinew Art he had performed on Dokgo Seong, he was still an unrivaled existence in Shaolin Temple. Having lived a full one hundred and twenty years, the Shaolin Sage-Monk was not only lofty in martial arts, but also a deeply cultivated eminent monk.
Watching Dokgo Seong set the tray he had brought on the floor, the Shaolin Sage-Monk wore an ambiguous expression.
“Seeing you offer tea in the dead of night, I suppose you must have put poison in it?”
At those words, Dokgo Seong grinned.
“Of course. I put in a whole lot of ridiculously strong poison. Hehehe.”
On the tray Dokgo Seong had set down were two teacups steaming gently.
“Which one would you like?”
“Let me see. I cannot tell at all which cup has the poison.”
He said that, but the Shaolin Sage-Monk smiled faintly and picked up one of the teacups. There was not the slightest hesitation. At that, Dokgo Seong swiftly lifted the remaining cup.
“Then shall this humble one test whether it has poison in it?”
Having spoken, Dokgo Seong drained the tea in the cup in one gulp. Watching him, the Shaolin Sage-Monk frowned.
“Just look at you. Tea is meant to be drunk little by little while savoring its fragrance…”
Though he scolded him, his eyes remained filled with affection. Dokgo Seong wore an awkward expression.
“Well, you know I’ve always had a filthy impatient temper.”
“Then shall I try this tea you brewed yourself?”
Watching Dokgo Seong grin, the Shaolin Sage-Monk brought the teacup to his mouth. In truth, he had some slight inkling that Dokgo Seong’s actions were meant to dispel his suspicion.
But before that, the Shaolin Sage-Monk held not the slightest doubt toward Dokgo Seong. He had already gained a deep understanding of Dokgo Seong’s nature. As he understood it, Dokgo Seong possessed an extremely single-minded character. He never forgot a grudge, but he would never betray someone who had treated him well, no matter what happened. From his experiences thus far, the Shaolin Sage-Monk was deeply aware of that much.
‘This boy is not the sort to feed this old monk poison, no matter what happens.’
Having finished that thought, the Shaolin Sage-Monk slowly drank the tea. After emptying the cup completely, the Sage-Monk wiped his mouth with his sleeve and smiled.
“The tea tastes better than I expected. Your skill is remarkable.”
“Oh, you flatter me… Then this lowly one shall take his leave.”
“Do so.”
Watching Dokgo Seong spring to his feet and turn away, the Shaolin Sage-Monk suddenly felt a pang of tenderness.
‘Poor boy. If only he had not been born the son of Dokgo Mugi—no, if only his appearance had been normal, he could have become a fine disciple of the Buddha…’
After Dokgo Seong left, the Shaolin Sage-Monk shook off his idle thoughts and began seated meditation. As it was seated meditation he had practiced steadily for more than a hundred years, the Sage-Monk was soon able to enter a state of selflessness. However, there was an unexpected factor that disturbed his meditation…
A faint sound came from outside the meditation hut, causing the Shaolin Sage-Monk to awaken from his state of selflessness. Possessing profound inner power, the Shaolin Sage-Monk immediately discerned that the sound was something collapsing.
“The only one who left this place was Seong… Hm? This presence is?”
At the presence he felt outside, the Shaolin Sage-Monk’s complexion changed somewhat. He hurriedly unfolded his crossed legs and rose from his seat.
Creak.
When the Shaolin Sage-Monk opened the door and stepped outside, what first entered his eyes was Dokgo Seong’s small body collapsed near the doorway. Along with the ten or so unidentified figures surrounding him…
The Shaolin Sage-Monk first examined the fallen Dokgo Seong’s condition. Realizing that he had merely had his sleep acupoint sealed and had fallen unconscious, the Shaolin Sage-Monk quietly recited a Buddhist invocation.
“Amitabha. What brings the disciples of the Cult to this temple?”
Those who had sealed Dokgo Seong’s acupoint were none other than the Cult experts who had come with Do Wicheong. The Asura pattern embroidered on their chests was enough for anyone in the martial world to identify them.
Upon seeing the Shaolin Sage-Monk, they busily assumed defensive stances. Among them, a black-faced middle-aged man, Do Wicheong, stepped forward.
“We came to find someone. Our young lord.”
An expression that could only be described as bewilderment appeared on the Shaolin Sage-Monk’s face.
“This old monk cannot understand. You refused to take him in before, yet now you infiltrate this temple without permission and say you will rescue him…”
Do Wicheong cut him off in a resolute tone.
“That was then, and this is now. I have already received a secret order from the Chief Strategist to bring back the Young Cult Leader.”
“Amitabha.”
The Shaolin Sage-Monk recited the Buddhist invocation once more. To be honest, he could not quite understand Sajun Hwan’s intention. Sajun Hwan already had the Cult completely in his grasp. In such a situation, there was no reason at all for him to take Dokgo Seong away. But he could not simply stand by and watch the situation unfold.
Though he had grown somewhat fond of Dokgo Seong, he absolutely could not send him back to the Cult. Having made up his mind, the Shaolin Sage-Monk said decisively,
“This old monk cannot allow it. Benefactors, it would be best for you to simply return.”
As if they had expected the Shaolin Sage-Monk’s response, the Cult warriors hurriedly began to deploy a sword formation. Drawing his own weapon, Do Wicheong sent him a cold smile.
“If you will not hand him over, then we have no choice but to fight and take him…”
Listening, the Shaolin Sage-Monk was dumbfounded. Though Black-Faced Yama Do Wicheong was the Cult’s chief protector and possessed martial arts that were by no means negligible, he did not dare speak such outrageous words to him. That was true of their rankings in the martial world, and there was also a considerable gap in martial arts between the two of them.
And yet he showed such confidence… Calmly settling his mind, the Shaolin Sage-Monk continued as if admonishing him.
“I warn you: leave now, benefactor. If you continue to insist, this old monk will have no choice but to set aside his compassion.”
But Do Wicheong paid no heed. Rather, he gave the order to attack to his subordinates, who had surrounded the Shaolin Sage-Monk.
“Activate the Heavenly Killing Sword Formation. First group, begin the attack.”
The men in black who received the order launched themselves without hesitation. Above, below, left, and right—pressing every direction the Shaolin Sage-Monk could evade, ten or so blue-edged swords closed in like arrows.
The Heavenly Killing Sword Formation. It was an offensive sword formation unique to the Cult, one that attacked while disregarding all defense, its sole primary objective being to kill the opponent. Seeing it, the Shaolin Sage-Monk realized there was nothing more he could do.
“Amitabha. This old monk has no choice now.”
He tried to circulate his inner power without delay. He intended to unleash protective qi, block the first attack, and then use that force to counterattack. But the instant he tried to raise his inner power, a pain like his intestines being severed suddenly surged from his dantian. At the extreme agony, the Shaolin Sage-Monk could only gape. It was pain so intense that he could not even attempt to circulate his energy.
“Th-this…”
He could not raise his inner power at all. Amid the slicing pain, his dantian refused to obey him. Around the frozen Shaolin Sage-Monk, the blue sword blades passed by by a hair’s breadth. Though he was defenseless, not a single sword struck him, so it seemed their purpose was perhaps not to kill him. Then, from one side, wild laughter suddenly burst out.
“Kahahaha! It truly succeeded.”
An expression of disbelief appeared on the Shaolin Sage-Monk’s face.
“Th-this is… s-surely…”
A smile spread across Do Wicheong’s face.
“That ‘surely’ is correct. Sage-Monk, you have already ingested the Seven-Step Intestine-Severing Powder. The most powerful inner-power-scattering poison ever created. No matter how profound your inner power is, for about one gak—fifteen minutes—you will be unable to raise even the slightest inner power.”
“H-how could you make this old monk drink p-poison?”
Perhaps because the pain was severe, the Shaolin Sage-Monk spoke haltingly, and then his complexion abruptly changed. It was the expression of someone who had realized something. His gaze turned toward Dokgo Seong, sprawled far away. Only then did the Shaolin Sage-Monk recall the tea he had accepted from him.
‘S-Seong poisoned me?’
No matter how he thought about it, he could not believe it. Judging by the nature he had understood until now, Dokgo Seong betraying him was something he could not even imagine. As the Shaolin Sage-Monk stood dazed, disbelief in his eyes, Do Wicheong approached him with a fishy smile.
“You will have to die now, Sage-Monk. You are the greatest obstacle to our cult’s plan.”
In Do Wicheong’s hand was a somewhat blackish blade, with no sharpness to be found. It was a blunt knife that no martial artist would ever use, the sort used to cut fodder or meat. Do Wicheong had already searched Dokgo Seong’s quarters and found this knife.
Do Wicheong was now acting thoroughly according to the secret order he had received from Sajun Hwan. The secret order to disguise the Sage-Monk’s death as Dokgo Seong’s doing, no matter what.
Facing death, the Shaolin Sage-Monk instead recovered his calm. Gazing indifferently at Do Wicheong as he raised the knife, the Shaolin Sage-Monk spoke in a low voice.
“This must, in the end, be the doing of you benefactors.”
“……”
“Seong is not a child who would ever harm me. You benefactors must have deceived that child with honeyed words and made him feed me the inner-power-scattering poison.”
A tense light flickered through Do Wicheong’s eyes. The Shaolin Sage-Monk’s insight, which had pierced the situation in an instant, suddenly frightened Do Wicheong. But he was a man who never forgot his mission under any circumstances. The blade in his hand descended toward the Shaolin Sage-Monk’s neck with terrifying speed. Of course, it went without saying that he did not infuse even the slightest inner power into the blade.
The Shaolin Sage-Monk’s gruesome corpse was discovered exactly one full day later.
His body was found by a child monk who had gone to the meditation hut, and because of this incident, the inside and outside of Shaolin Temple were thrown into an uproar. The fact that the Shaolin Sage-Monk, Shaolin’s greatest master, had been found with his limbs horribly severed—no, not cut, but almost torn apart—by a blunt knife, was more than enough to shock the entirety of Shaolin Temple.
The abbot and the rest of the leadership immediately began an investigation into the truth. As for the murderer, of course, there was no need to investigate.