Episode 4. A Wish (1)
Jang Sobeom looked up at the sky. Of all the skies he had ever seen, the clouds hung closest to the earth, lightning struck with a thunderous roar unlike anything he had heard in his life, and the flashing light was too brilliant to gaze upon directly.
It seemed as though this sky might collapse at any moment.
He stood blankly in place, watching the man clad in black and the old monk glare at each other as if to kill, locked in a bloody battle.
Then, suddenly, an explosion loud enough to burst his eardrums rang out.
Jang Sobeom saw a flickering light bloom in the air and fall to the ground, dropping onto the great sword held by the man in black.
In that instant, the black-clad man's clothes fluttered high. His eyes were opened wide as if they would burst at any moment.
In the deep night, that light which had fallen upon the sword tip was more beautiful than anything, and Jang Sobeom found his breath catching at such beauty.
But in the old monk's eyes, this appeared as nothing more than a bizarre madness.
“Is this the so-called Daoist martial art that is said to be so grand?”
After that, nothing could be heard except for the black-clad man's thunderous shout.
He raised the sword gripped in his left hand high and swung it with all his might.
Kwarurung!
Thunder roared once more, and the light enveloping the sword rushed toward the old monk.
Everything in the path of the light shattered and scattered, and deep marks were carved into the ground below.
The old monk retreated three steps, put his hands together with a solemn expression, and drew the character for “ten” (十). Then, golden light flared from the old monk's body once more.
“Buddha, have mercy (我佛慈悲)!”
The old monk chanted an incantation as if reciting a prayer.
The light that split the earth and the monk's golden light collided with a deafening roar, and the prayer beads remaining on the monk's body became fragments, drawing the shape of a huge Buddha (佛) character before his body.
That shape was so bright that it could not be looked upon directly from up close.
Then the light and the shape of the Buddha character collided.
At that moment, Jang Sobeom felt his heart thrash as though all the blood in his body was surging backward in an instant.
Strength drained from his hands and feet, and even breathing became a struggle.
The wind and falling lightning ceased, and it seemed as if the entire world had stopped.
The shockwave of the collision sent Jang Sobeom tumbling across the ground. Yet before he could even feel fear, he saw a light brighter than the sun spreading gloriously.
The shrine hall was reduced to ruins so unrecognizable that one could not make out its original form, and everything around the two combatants—including the dark storm clouds in the sky and the striking lightning—was blown away in all directions.
Jang Sobeom's mind went blank.
Only the wind brushed past his ears, letting out a miserable sound.
Instinctively curling up in fear, Jang Sobeom walked on helplessly, trudging along. He did not even know where he was going.
A thought arose in his mind.
“Am I… dying?”
Overcome by intense fear, his body trembled and cold sweat poured down.
How could one face the death approaching before one's eyes?
Soon, he lost consciousness and collapsed.
* * *
The old monk staggered and moved his steps with difficulty. At his sides were Jang Sobeom and Im Ryangu.
Only after laying the two children down on clean ground did pain like his entire body shattering flood over him.
Unable to endure any longer, the old monk sat down helplessly.
Through his torn monk's robes, he looked down at his chest to see a handful of black qi gradually trying to devour his heart.
He smiled bitterly and stretched out his violently trembling hand, slowly taking out a red medicinal pill from his bosom. It did not look particularly special, but it was the size of a finger.
The old monk exhaled once and muttered in a low voice.
“In the end, I have no choice but to take the Three-Day Certain Death Pill. I can only hope that quack doctor's words were true…”
He hesitated for a moment, then eventually lowered his head and swallowed the pill. Then he raised his head and looked at the mountain visible in the distance.
Rain had finally begun to fall from the sky.
Cheongun Mountain stood tall amid the wind and rain, faintly exuding a mysterious aura.
“Daoist martial arts are truly astounding, more than enough to be compared to immortals above the heavens. If they were combined with my Dharma sect's martial arts and grown even stronger, we would surely be able to find the secret to eternal life and deathlessness… How regrettable that my enlightenment falls far short of Perfected Dohyeon's. I too could not escape my lowly status like my three senior martial brothers and failed to see beyond the gate; how lamentable!”
The old monk let out a long sigh, then looked at the two children lying unconscious.
The rain fell harder, beating against the children's faces.
The shrine hall, destroyed by the bloody battle moments ago, did not have a single inch of shelter left for them to avoid the rain.
Worry and tension swirled in the old monk's heart as he looked at the two children.
In the recent battle, he had forcibly drawn out power and borrowed the strength of the Buddhist jade prayer beads through Cheoneumsa's martial art, Daebeom Banya. Thanks to this, he gained the power to oppose demonic energy, barely managed to block the incomparably powerful Divine Sword Lightning True Edge, and even reversed its force back onto the caster. Because of this, the man in black had fled somewhere.
Having blocked even Daoist martial arts while heavily injured, the old monk had been as precarious as a candle in the wind, so all he could do was forcibly chew and swallow the Three-Day Certain Death Pill to extend his lifespan by three days.
“That fiendish fellow must have suffered grave injuries as well, but if I leave, he will return before long. Not only these two children, but all the villagers will be unable to escape death… What in the world am I to do about this?”
Despite having reached such a high realm through his training, uncontrollable complex emotions sprouted in the old monk's heart. Knowing that he would surely die, his mind was in turmoil, and the worry that innocent people might lose their lives at the hands of that fiendish fellow—who was likely of rather high standing even within the Cheongun Sect—made his state of mind even more complicated.
Even if he climbed the mountain to request help from the main hall of the sect, things would likely not go as he wished. Moreover, it was such a pity that he could not finish the one thing he had longed for all his life.
Originally, he was one of the Four Great Monks of Cheoneumsa, respected and revered by all under heaven.
Yet to the old monk, there was only one thing more important: uncovering the secret of life and death.
Fifty years ago, when he had learned how he could train in and attain enlightenment of the Buddhist Dharma methods, he had only practiced his original training with even greater diligence, but he could not unravel the secret of life and death even then.
Eventually, after decades of anguish, the old monk thought of one method.
The sects renowned today for possessing the deepest and most outstanding arts, those that competed against one another as rivals, were largely divided into three: Buddhist, Daoist, and Demonic. Among them, the Demonic Cult was infamous for its extreme wickedness and vileness, and its martial arts were cruel and ruthless, earning people's hatred.
On the other hand, Daoist martial arts were profound and miraculous, spreading to many places together with Buddhism.
He believed that if Buddhism and Daoism were combined and cultivated together, not only eternal life and deathlessness, but many crises could also be resolved.
However, unexpectedly, even his three senior martial brothers, who had always been open to him, unanimously opposed this. They even dismissed this idea as a nonsensical delusion and tried to persuade him never to speak of such thoughts again.
Afterward, with a bitter heart, he visited various famous Daoist sects.
He had climbed Cheongun Mountain several times, but because Perfected Dohyeon, who governed the Cheongun Sect, had firmly refused, he had gained nothing.
Recalling the old days, the old monk smiled a bitter smile as if mocking himself.
“What use is there in thinking of eternal life and deathlessness with a body that has less than three days left?”
He discarded all lingering thoughts in his mind like that.
But looking at the two children sprawled on the ground before his eyes, he could not simply let go.
As no proper method came to mind, the old monk looked around his surroundings, and his eyes caught a single pine tree in the distance.
“I must take shelter from the rain there first.”
With that thought, the old monk gathered his strength, carried the two children, and headed toward the pine tree, laying the children beneath it. Then he too sat down on the ground, his entire body going limp, leaned his body against the tree, and continued to gasp for breath.
“Heaven is heartless, caring not for the ways of the world…”
The old monk recited a passage from the Daoists. This passage added to the desolation and anger in the old monk's heart.
Above the sky, darkness as thick as ink engulfed the earth.
Within the endless dark clouds, the rain showed no sign of stopping, and together with the cold wind, the raindrops struck their faces.
Because of the rain, a chill was felt deep in his heart.
The old monk gazed at the sky for a long while, then slowly turned his gaze to look at the children and muttered quietly.
“Even though my wish to save these two little ones is great, my strength does not follow… Because of me, these ones have been hurt instead; how truly guilty I feel! Ah, if only these two children were disciples of the Cheongun Sect, they could have spent their time safely atop Cheongun Mountain…”
The old monk spoke with difficulty.
“Cheongun Sect… Cheongun Sect…”
At that moment, something occurred to the old monk, and he tried to speak it aloud, but the next words were hazy, on the tip of his tongue but not quite there.
His body was drenched in cold sweat in an instant.
Afterward, for a reason he could not know, the old monk's eyes gleamed with madness.
Again he looked up at the sky and laughed loudly, and that laugh too was tinged with madness.
“This is it! This is it! Though not much of my life remains, if I pass on Buddhist martial arts to one child, and this child enters the Cheongun Sect and cultivates Daoist martial arts as well? If that happens, not only can the other child be saved, but my long-cherished wish can also be fulfilled—truly killing two birds with one stone!”
The old monk's voice was full of vigor, unlike just moments before.
“Buddhism and Daoism have been severed from each other since ancient times, so even if it means death, they do not interact; thus, the Cheongun Sect would never imagine that a child who had lived beneath Cheongun Mountain since young could have learned Buddhist martial arts and Daoist arts! One who has experienced the martial arts of both factions would surely be able to smash this Asura field born of the pursuit of eternal life and deathlessness over a long time. If it comes to that, what regret would remain even if I die? Hahaha!”
His cheeks quickly flushed with excitement, and his eyes were so bloodshot that veins were visible. He was so greatly excited that he unconsciously reached out toward Im Ryangu.
But before his hand touched Im Ryangu's body, another thought came to him, and the old monk stopped dead.
“This matter cannot be judged so simply. Today, the countless sects and factions do not forgive those who hide their masters and punish them severely. If this is discovered by others and everything is revealed, this child will surely lose his life.”
This child named Im Ryangu possessed truly outstanding aptitude. If he became a disciple of the Cheongun Sect and set foot in martial arts, the attention of the masters would certainly focus on him. At such a young age, he would be unable to hide such a grave secret.
The old monk's eyes naturally turned toward Jang Sobeom.
Suddenly, the day's events came to mind. That stubbornness of not bowing his head even before death. Recalling that appearance, the old monk nodded his head and spoke.
“Yes, his aptitude may be somewhat lacking, but that is not so important. That depends on how he himself merges Buddhism and Daoism in the future.”
The old monk reached out again, tapped Jang Sobeom's body several times, and woke the child with his remaining Buddhist power.