Chapter 392

“This elderly member of the Daoist order did not witness the events firsthand either. The situation simply brought to mind a tale passed down by my late grandmaster.”

“…Would it be possible for you to share additional details regarding that?”

“It is highly probable you are familiar with the notion that the martial world contains an infinite number of peculiar individuals, vast as the desert sands. Our own Wudang sect possessed such an unorthodox figure. My predecessor was precisely that sort of man.”

The Taiji Sword Immortal directed his gaze upward toward the heavens. With a countenance marked by deep remembrance, he stared into the empty expanse before continuing.

“My grandmaster once recounted that a remarkably similar individual resided within the walls of the Shaolin Temple. In fact, he described that particular person as being considerably more obstinate and uncompromising than he ever was.”

The level of frustration required for him to view even the Heavenly Demon as a true peer, while dismissing that venerable Buddhist monk as a mere hairless bonze, must have been extraordinary.

Nevertheless, reflecting upon the specific descriptions provided by his grandmaster, utilizing such a derogatory label for the old master appeared somewhat inappropriate.

That aged spiritual practitioner had committed his entire existence to protecting the sacred Buddhist doctrines, choosing never to venture beyond the boundaries of Mount Song.

“He possessed a frightening degree of willpower, dedicating every waking moment entirely to sacred ceremonies, internal cultivation, and unending physical privations.”

His grandmaster had likewise been an atypical master who spent several decades perfecting his martial skills upon Wudang, yet he maintained that their situations were entirely distinct.

He confessed that during his own youth, he had foolishly pursued worldly reputation and prestige until the fateful day he encountered the Heavenly Demon.

Fascinatingly, those observations were by no means meant as a compliment toward the old monastic practitioner.

While the Taiji Sword Immortal immersed himself in these recollections of his ancestor’s testimony, Zhuge Mun found an opportunity to quietly slip in an inquiry.

“Is the martial attainment of that peculiar Shaolin figure truly so extraordinary?”

“Having never encountered the individual personally, I cannot provide a definitive assessment. However, according to the records of my grandmaster, their final friendly duel concluded in a complete deadlock, though he felt entirely matched in capability.”

Intriguingly, despite their martial capacities being perfectly balanced, the supreme blade master of Wudang’s previous generation took no pleasure in clashing weapons with that particular monk. This stood in stark contrast to his engagements with the Heavenly Demon, which brought him immense satisfaction.

He discovered great fulfillment in trading techniques and philosophical views with the Heavenly Demon, whereas attempting to battle or converse with that elderly monk produced an oppressive sensation, akin to carrying a heavy boulder within his midsection.

Although the premier swordsman of Wudang never explicitly disclosed those feelings to the Taiji Sword Immortal, it explained his decision to withhold any mention of the old monk from the Heavenly Demon.

When dealing with a rival completely incapable of rational dialogue, it was certain that an encounter between the Heavenly Demon and that monk would inevitably result in a duel to the death on every single occasion.

Consequently, the supreme master of Wudang intentionally hid the existence of another equivalent challenger from the Heavenly Demon, solely out of a desire to prevent the old monastic’s demise.

Such an act felt uncomfortably close to orchestrating a manipulative scheme to pit two adversaries against one another for mutual destruction.

Unaware of the complex motivations hidden within his long-deceased predecessor’s mind, the Taiji Sword Immortal proceeded with his explanation.

“Furthermore, the level of mastery attained by my grandmaster, even prior to his departure from this earthly realm, is something this old Daoist would not dare claim capable of enduring for even ten exchanges of blows.”

Zhuge Mun, momentarily left without a response, quickly identified a critical element of the timeline and inquired,

“Precisely when did that final contest take place?”

Gently smoothing his facial hair, the Taiji Sword Immortal provided his response,

“Let me consider. My grandmaster passed from this world roughly a decade ago, and his final meeting with that master occurred an additional twelve or thirteen years prior to that event, meaning at least two decades have elapsed.”

“…Are you aware of the advanced age of that elderly monk?”

“I lack an exact number, though he undoubtedly crossed the century mark a significant time ago.”

Zhuge Mun, once again reduced to temporary silence, whispered with a complicated look upon his face.

“It is highly probable that he has already entered final illumination and departed this life.”

The Taiji Sword Immortal gave an affirmative nod.

“Given the current volatility of the realm, it remains imperative that we verify the situation.”

Several days afterward, the Taiji Sword Immortal made his way to the slopes of Mount Song situated within Henan.

Moving past the principal threshold of the Shaolin Temple to step inside the compound, a high-ranking disciple of the sect guided him directly toward the private residence of the leader.

Likely due to the fact that the gatekeepers had already sent advance word of his arrival, the supreme leader of Shaolin, Venerable Unzon, alongside Abbot Gonghwan, stood prepared for his entrance.

“Greetings to you, Taiji Sword Immortal.”

“I offer my respects to the leader of Shaolin.”

The leader of the monastic order and the Taiji Sword Immortal exchanged formal courtesies and pressed their palms together in mutual respect.

The head of the temple directed a brief look toward Unzon before refocusing his attention on the Taiji Sword Immortal to pose a query,

“Information has reached me through Abbot Gonghwan, but does your current presence relate directly to the affairs of the demonic cult?”

Signaling his assent to the question, the Taiji Sword Immortal applied all his rhetorical skill to sway their opinions, speaking with profound earnestness.

He Detailed the manner in which those forces masqueraded as the Blood Cult to slaughter innocent civilians, as well as their placement of double agents within both the demonic cult and the Martial Alliance to provoke an all-out war of attrition among the various factions.

“I am well aware that Shaolin maintains deep-seated animosity toward the demonic cult. Yet, before we deliberate on ancient retributive justice, is it not true that our training in the martial paths was intended to protect the vulnerable? The demonic cult has altered its path and currently shields the populace, whereas the rulers of the imperial court oppress the people to consolidate authority.”

Observing the conflicted countenances of both Unzon and the leader, the Taiji Sword Immortal delivered his final, decisive argument.

“I recognize the difficulty in placing confidence in the demonic cult. Therefore, why not prioritize halting the machinations of the corrupt court first, and evaluate the conduct of the demonic cult at a later date?”

Visibly weighed down by the dilemma, the master of the temple shut his eyes and began intoning a sacred phrase.

“Amitabha.”

Raising his eyelids once more, he turned his head to briefly lock eyes with Abbot Gonghwan before delivering his conclusion.

“It appears this dilemma cannot be resolved by my judgment in isolation. Despite my position as the administrative head of Shaolin, I lack the authority to unilaterally decide a matter of this magnitude.”

Following those words, the leader stood up from his seat.

Finding it inappropriate to remain within the private chambers in the absence of their host, Abbot Gonghwan along with the Taiji Sword Immortal fell in behind him.

Immediately upon stepping outside the threshold of the building, the leader and Abbot Gonghwan synchronized their prayers, continuing their journey past the administrative grounds.

The two individuals made their way across the grand scripture pavilion of Shaolin, slipped through a secondary rear exit, and proceeded into the isolated wilderness of Mount Song.

Following an extended trek along the steep mountain trails, they arrived before the mouth of a hidden cavern completely unfamiliar to the vast majority of the Shaolin brotherhood.

Abruptly, an ethereal voice manifested directly within their consciousness.

• What urgent purpose brings the leader to this sanctuary.

The phenomenon far exceeded standard mental communication; it was an advanced manifestation of the sacred Buddhist discipline known as 慧光心語(慧光心語).

“We require your guidance on critical developments, Martial Uncle Hyunam.”

• You may enter.

Receiving explicit clearance from the monastic elder identified as Hyunam, the leader alongside Abbot Gonghwan stepped into the dark interior.

Deep within the chamber rested an ancient practitioner, so terribly withered that his form resembled a skeleton covered in skin, maintaining a strict meditative pose.

His back remained turned toward the leader and Abbot Gonghwan, his gaze fixed entirely upon the stone wall.

• Relate your tale without reservation.

As the voice generated by Hyunam’s 慧光心語 echoed once more through their minds, the leader provided a detailed account of the intelligence the Taiji Sword Immortal had brought forward.

The moment the report concluded, a suffocating, dense pressure began to flow outward from the physical form of Hyunam.

“Gulp.”

Gonghwan involuntarily cleared his throat, a sense of recognition washing over him. The sensation felt strangely familiar.

In short order, Abbot Gonghwan managed to identify the precise origin of that familiar pressure.

…The terrifying aura of a Thousand Blood Stiffened Corpse.

To his utter disbelief, the thick, heavy energy radiating from his venerable relative bore a striking resemblance to the presence of a Thousand Blood Stiffened Corpse.

Yet, a singular, vital distinction existed between them.

Whereas the energy of the Thousand Blood Stiffened Corpse was utterly saturated with malicious hatred, profane curses, and bloodlust, the aura of his martial uncle was comprised exclusively of pure, overwhelming Buddhist internal strength.

‘What a sacrilegious train of thought.’

As Abbot Gonghwan silently scolded himself, deeply regretting the mental comparison of his esteemed elder to such a monstrous entity,

Swish.

Hyunam, rising into the air in a supernatural fashion without shifting a single limb, pivoted around to confront the two elderly monks, abandoning his focus on the cavern wall.

“For what reason does the administrative head of our order present such a brainless inquiry?”

His vocal cords, brittle and damaged by decades of absolute speechlessness, sounded like an object on the absolute brink of shattering into pieces.

“The rulers of the imperial court represent wickedness, and the demonic cult represents heresy. Is it your conscious objective to bring dishonor upon the name of Shaolin by succumbing to the deceptive arguments of dark forces?”

Only at that precise moment did the pair of visiting monks comprehend the true magnitude of their elder’s fury.

“Our personal spiritual cultivation was severely lacking, causing us to nearly lose our path due to the seductive arguments of heretics.”

“We beg for your clemency, Martial Uncle.”

As they rapidly lowered their heads with hands clasped in deep respect, Hyunam uttered a prayer in his dry, scraping voice.

“Amitabha. Where is the young representative of Wudang who delivered this proposal?”

“He remains within the formal reception chambers awaiting our final determination.”

“For what reason did you even seek an audience with the Taiji Sword Immortal?”

Providing an answer to the inquiry posed by Unzon following the initial response to the leader, Hyunam made his intentions clear,

“That young man from Wudang has clearly fallen under the influence of heretical corruption. Therefore, is it not our spiritual obligation to purge that corruption for his personal salvation? I shall confine him within the solitary meditation chambers until his cultivation base is thoroughly destroyed, allowing his mind to achieve clarity once more.”

“…The Taiji Sword Immortal stands as the grand-disciple of your former associate, so would such a punishment not be excessively severe?”

When the leader offered this tentative objection, fully aware of the historic connection Hyunam shared with the legendary Daoist master of Wudang, Hyunam faced him directly and unleashed a devastating spiritual shout.

“Ha!”

Under the sheer force of the vocal blast, both the leader and Unzon experienced a violent internal disruption, causing a metallic taste of blood to rise in their throats.

Preternaturally, although an expert of Unzon’s caliber occupying the advanced Divine Enlightenment Realm sustained real physical harm from the acoustic wave, the fragile rock walls of the cavern exhibited no signs of structural vibration whatsoever.

“By what authority do the leader and a senior representative of Shaolin utter sentiments still chained to trivial earthly attachments?”

Admonished so severely by Hyunam, the two visitors found themselves utterly incapable of offering a defense.

“Escort me down to the formal reception chambers.”

“…We shall obey your command, Martial Uncle.”

The leader, actively working to stabilize his internal spiritual injuries, took the lead in exiting the chamber, with Hyunam gliding silently behind him.

Abbot Gonghwan, following at the rear of the procession behind Hyunam and the head of the sect, experienced a profound sense of unnaturalness.

‘It defies understanding how he commands physical locomotion in that state.’

Completely stripped of any muscular definition and virtually all body fat, his withered flesh clung directly to his skeletal frame like a reanimated corpse—nevertheless, that did not encompass the entirety of the anomaly.

Before long, Gonghwan penetrated the secret behind the physical progression of his martial uncle.

‘…He is manipulating his physical vessel exclusively through the focus of his energy and intent.’

Precisely as Gonghwan surmise, Hyunam possessed absolutely no physical muscular capability to initiate movement.

He traveled forward solely by harnessing the sheer output of his internal reserves.

It appeared as though his circulatory system, flesh, and sinews had been entirely supplanted by pure energy—transforming him into an entity removed from ordinary humanity.

Revisiting that sacrilegious comparison once again, Gonghwan offered up another silent prayer.

‘Amitabha. I offer my sincere apologies to the elder of Wudang.’

He experienced a wave of pity for the Taiji Sword Immortal who sat waiting for a response inside the greeting area, yet he lacked the authority or capability to alter his martial uncle’s course of action.

Furthermore, he conceded that the perspective of his elder was fundamentally correct.

Heretics remained heretics, and an individual compromised by their influence could not be granted absolution out of mere sentimental relationships.

As Gonghwan directed his silent prayers toward the Taiji Sword Immortal like a funeral mass for a doomed man, the trio made their descent from the peaks and entered the grand scripture pavilion of Shaolin.

Though their path required them to navigate through that hall to reach the visiting area,

“…The representative of Wudang has departed already? What is the meaning of this turn of events?”

The Taiji Sword Immortal was nowhere to be found within the chamber.

…

A few days prior to these events, within the private office of the leader of the Zhuge clan.

“Respected Taiji Sword Immortal, if during your consultations with the head of Shaolin, the master hesitates to provide a definitive conclusion and departs for an alternate location, you must exit the grounds of Shaolin immediately without pausing.”

“What is the rationale behind such an action? To depart without receiving their formal position on the matter?”

“Should the situation involve an issue that the head of the sect cannot resolve through his independent authority, he would naturally convene a meeting of the senior Shaolin council within his own quarters. If he states that a resolution is complicated and leaves the area himself, does that not indicate the presence of a supreme authority residing above the leader?”

“That is a logical deduction….”

Conceding the validity of the argument, the Taiji Sword Immortal shortly raised a follow-up problem.

“Even assuming that ancient practitioner remains among the living, is it not crucial that we secure his final position?”

“There is no practical purpose. Is the ultimate position of that ancient master not already fully articulated within the historical account you shared?”

An absolute, uncompromising rigidity that defies any form of reasonable compromise.

Would an individual possessing such a nature ever display the pragmatism required to prioritize an assault on the corrupt imperial court over the annihilation of the demonic cult?

As the Taiji Sword Immortal weighed those points, Zhuge Mun delivered his concluding advice.

“If you harbor lingering doubts, simply leave behind a formal missive explaining that pressing matters required your immediate departure. Should they genuinely wish to forge a coalition, will Shaolin not mobilize their forces in accordance with the text of your letter?”

…

“He took his leave after presenting nothing more than a written notice indicating that critical affairs demanded his presence elsewhere…. Does this present an issue, Venerable Leader?”

In response to the inquiry from the supervisor of the guest quarters, the leader alongside Abbot Gonghwan turned their gazes toward Hyunam, their expressions a mixture of profound terror and absolute reverence.