Chapter 162

Chapter 162
# Chapter 162
## Living Intent Qi

Living Intent Qi stood as one of the three enlightenments required to ascend to Super Peak—a realm entirely apart from all others.

It meant weaving qi and intention into one living whole.

The end result was to make one’s intent manifest through qi.

Here is what that looks like:

*To will a cut, and the cut comes to be.*

The true core of the Hyeongsan Yinblood clan’s techniques lay in hand-based skills, chief among them the Kwonjang Finger Law, which let masters wrap their hand qi from their fingertips all the way down their forearms.

Only moments before, Baek Yang-hui had severed just such a man’s arm with a single stroke of his blade.

His will to cut had merged with his qi, and so it became real.

*Living Intent Qi. The realization of intent made visible through qi.*

It was a state that could only be fully embodied once qi and intent were perfectly united.

Right now, his Harmonious Heaven Qi and Pure Qi had combined into Harmonious Heaven Pure Qi—he had not yet truly attained Living Intent Qi.

Yet, thanks to Seongcheol’s power to amplify both qi and mental focus, he had forced that state into being.

*Amplify both qi and intent, then drive them together.*

It was like steam building beneath a lid until it burst free.

Something that should have been impossible under normal circumstances—made possible only by the truths he had mastered in his past life.

And the consequence was the death of Hyeongsan Yinblood.

“…Urgh… ugh…”

The thin line across Hyeongsan Yinblood’s throat slowly widened.

Beads of blood swelled, then spilled forth like a waterfall.

His head struck the ground, eyes wide and unblinking, as if he still could not accept that he was gone.

“Hahaha—all you do is boast of your schemes! How utterly pathetic!”

“Of every Peerless Righteous Helper I have ever known, you are the lowest trash of them all!”

The taunts Hyeongsan Yinblood had hurled at his father in his former life rushed back to him.

He saw again the deaths of those he had held most dear—all laid at this man’s feet—replaying in his mind like a nightmare he could not shake.

*Father. I have finally avenged you.*

His father in this life was still alive, safe and well, yet the feeling that swept over him was no less overwhelming.

To strike off Hyeongsan Yinblood’s head cleanly had been a goal Baek Yang-hui had carried his whole life.

“Ugh…!”

Strength drained from him in an instant, and he sank to one knee, leaning on his sword as though it were a crutch.

*This is the price of drawing on a realm I have not truly mastered.*

He had not even unleashed his full strength, yet the exhaustion that washed over him felt just as heavy.

His meridians throbbed with sharp pain, and his thoughts grew hazy.

“Clan Leader!”

“Kill that bastard!”

“N-no—take him alive!”

In his pursuit of Hyeongsan Yinblood, he had advanced to the very heart of the black path’s formation.

Seeing him weakened, the black path martial artists swarmed forward like rabid dogs.

But—

“Seol-ha.”

Ting-a-ling!

Baek Yang-hui’s sword still trembled, but as Jeogal Seol-ha’s sound waves flowed into the blade, it erupted with terrifying force.

### Combined Formation: Jade Sound Eagle Roar!

“Kraaaagh!”

“How can an enemy so spent still wield such power…!”

Clear, chime-like tones rang out again and again.

The melody was both a surge of qi and a concussive blast—striking like lightning drawn to a rod, absorbed directly into Baek Yang-hui’s steel.

-Kiyaaaaah!

The amplified, resonating force tore outward in every direction.

And that was enough.

“Adu. You are late.”

Adu, a giant cloaked in roiling firelight, had moved silently to stand guard over him.

“Sorry. You all right, Yang-hui?”

“Fine. Take me back.”

Instead of answering, Adu lifted him gently into his arms and burst upward in a blaze of flame.

### Pr Ajña Great Ability: Golden Light Repels Evil!

Baek Yang-hui leaned back against Adu’s chest as they sped away, and the steady rhythm of his companion’s qi brought a faint smile to his lips.

*Come to think of it—this one is a monster through and through. He has already fully embodied Living Intent Qi.*

Of course he had; otherwise he would never have been able to train alongside Jeogal Seol-ha’s sound-based arts.

No matter how many Shaolin techniques one knew, without living qi rising to meet every attack, one could not have withstood it.

A master who had grasped Living Intent Qi—essential for reaching Super Peak—before he had even turned twenty.

It struck him again just how fearsome and extraordinary Adu truly was.

*No wonder rumors say Shaolin is nurturing the greatest talent the world has ever seen.*

He shook his head to clear the thought and set his jaw with fresh resolve.

Killing their leader, Hyeongsan Yinblood, had shifted the tide of battle firmly in their favor.

But the true struggle was only just beginning.

The Baek Clan’s real enemies had never been these low-ranking black path thugs.

*To face what lies ahead… I must recover first.*

Before he could settle into meditation, however, there were orders he needed to give.

—Chui-dal.

—Yes, brother.

—Keep your eyes on those Namgung Clan curs.

The Namgung Clan had fallen back far from the front lines, clearing a path for the black path forces to advance.

Tracking their position and movements in real time was now critical.

—Brother Gu.

—I am listening, little brother.

—See to the rest.

It would be best to cut down as many of the Honam black path fighters as they could.

Lord Gu-ak would handle the task thoroughly and without leaving loose ends.

—Seol-ha.

—Yes, senior brother.

—You fought beautifully. Thank you—truly.

—It was nothing.

—This is the final stretch. Go and meet our honored guest who has traveled so far to be here.

As he watched Jeogal Seol-ha leap away, Baek Yang-hui settled cross-legged on the ground.

*I am fortunate to have Seol-ha at my side.*

To drive a dagger through Namgung Cheon-hu’s throat, they would need one decisive strike.

Jeogal Seol-ha would play a central part in that, too.

*The trouble is, we have only had three days to prepare.*

Well—if it does not work, it does not work.

*It is all a gamble in the end. Give everything we have, and leave the rest to Heaven.*

For that, he needed to restore his strength as fully as he could.

Dozens of black path leaders remained at large even with Hyeongsan Yinblood dead.

The fight was far from over, yet he began to meditate at once.

*Thank the Heavens for Pure Qi.*

Pure Qi—the energy that draws all things toward clarity and righteousness.

As Harmonious Heaven Pure Qi flowed through his meridians, his physical reserves and depleted mental focus slowly returned.

When Baek Yang-hui opened his eyes—having regained roughly eighty percent of his strength—a voice spoke beside him.

“Heh heh heh, benefactor. You hold qi of extraordinary purity within you.”

A middle-aged monk stood there, wearing a gentle smile.

Baek Yang-hui blinked, thoroughly confused.

*How did a monk get in here?*

He had retreated to the innermost sanctum of the Baek Clan estate to meditate.

It was not simply a secluded spot—there was a fierce battle raging outside—and yet an outsider had slipped in?

And he had asked Adu to stand guard, too… Adu, what in the world…?

He was smiling.

The monk rested a hand casually on Adu’s shoulder as he sat beside him, as if they were old friends.

Only then did Baek Yang-hui notice the monk’s robes, dyed the dull, earthy color of dried mud.

In all the realms, only Shaolin monks wore garments of that shade.

No—more than that… how is this possible!

The moment he sensed the intruder, he had sharpened his perception of qi to its fullest.

And he had felt nothing at all.

The reason was simple: the monk before him had attained Return to True Realm.

In other words—a master of Super Peak standing.

*A Shaolin disciple… and a Super Peak master?*

“Venerable Monk, might I ask your dharma name?”

“With pleasure. This humble one is called Beop-gak.”

Shaolin monks received dharma names in generational cycles: Hye, Beop, Gong, Gye, Mu, Myeong.

The Beop generation meant he was a senior figure in the order as it stood today.

But that was not what mattered.

Baek Yang-hui knew the name Beop-gak only too well.

*Vice Abbot of Shaolin! A future member of the Heavenly Martial Ten Honors! What in the world…!*

Thirty years from now, this same monk would rise to become Abbot of Shaolin and take his place among the Heavenly Martial Ten Honors.

A being of legendary stature had appeared out of thin air.

*Why now? Because of Adu?*

Beop-gak’s next words answered his unspoken question—though not entirely in the way he might have hoped.

“Benefactor, it appears my young junior has caused you a measure of trouble.”

“Adu is… your junior, Venerable Monk?”

“He is. Young and unrefined, yet all the more precious for that. Amitabha.”

Baek Yang-hui repeated the thought to himself a third time.

*What on earth—Adu is a disciple of one of the Heavenly Martial Ten Honors?*

Beop-gak was known to be a direct disciple of the sitting Shaolin Abbot—and every Abbot of Shaolin had always held a seat among the Heavenly Martial Ten Honors.

A distinction only the thousand-year guardian of the north, Shaolin, could claim!

“Great Monk, what brings you to our humble home?”

“I have come to retrieve my junior, naturally.”

“Ah—was Adu not out on pilgrimage training?”

Major sects regularly sent disciples into the jianghu to gain experience.

Shaolin called this the Yeonhwa Pilgrimage.

“My junior has not been granted permission to undertake the Yeonhwa Pilgrimage. He is still a novice—he has not yet received a formal dharma name.”

A novice? That eight-foot giant… setting that aside for the moment.

He had wondered why Adu used a name that did not fit any of Shaolin’s generational cycles.

So it was never a dharma name at all.

*And still a novice besides. Which means he has not formally entered the order. There is a story there, for certain.*

He had first met Adu in a city not far from An-hui.

Lingering in the secular world without official leave suggested there were complications.

But—what truly caught Baek Yang-hui’s attention was something else entirely.

*Great Monk Beop-gak? This is a stroke of luck beyond measure!*

Man proposes, Heaven disposes! He had been ready to cast their final roll of the dice and leave the rest to fate—only to have a blessing of staggering proportions drop straight into his lap.

Baek Yang-hui’s mind raced.

*Opportunity knocks—seize it with both hands!*

“Venerable Monk—so you have come to take Adu away?”

“I have… Ah.”

A faint, genuine look of embarrassment crossed Beop-gak’s face.

“You did not invite me, and so I am an unbidden guest. It was wrong of me to enter so deeply into your home without welcome. I ask your forgiveness, benefactor.”

In a jianghu where might made right, what master of Super Peak standing would ever apologize for something so small?

Especially when a battle raged all around as pretext enough to come looking for his junior.

Beop-gak’s heart was as pure as could be.

*Just as I would expect from Shaolin.*

Truth be told, he had counted on this very response when he first considered inviting the monk to join them.

“Adu is my friend, and you are his senior brother—how could you ever be an unwelcome guest? If it troubles you so, might I ask one small favor?”

“You do me too much honor, benefactor. I am but a simple monk… a favor? Since my junior is in your debt, anything that does not place an undue burden upon you, I will gladly grant.”

“It is truly nothing at all. Just come with me.”

“Pardon? That is all you ask?”

Baek Yang-hui met his clear, guileless gaze and grinned.

“That is all. Come—let us be off!”

“B-benefactor?”

He had already received word of the Namgung Clan’s position from Baek-ri Chui-dal and the others.

Bearing nothing but his sword, Baek Yang-hui launched himself into the sky.

*It has been too long, Namgung Cheon-hu. If it can be ended today, let it end.*

Even as he sped forward, he received messages by carrier pigeon, scrawled replies on the back of each scrap of paper, and sent them winging back.

Roughly an hour later.

Baek Yang-hui stood face to face with the Namgung Clan’s warriors, gathered around a campfire.

“Hm? Baek Yang-hui?”

He saw shock, then a flurry of emotions, play across Namgung Cheon-hu’s face—and spoke the words he had held pent up for years.

“Hey—you dog-hearted bastard!”

Namgung Cheon-hu’s features twisted into a mask of pure, savage rage.