Beok Jeong didn't consider death to be far away. After all, he wasn't that young himself.
But had he ever imagined that death would come in such a way?
The form of death that was assaulting Beok Jeong's entire body so ruthlessly was something he had never even imagined.
'What...'
The surging qi flowing backward felt like tearing apart his entire body.
But even amidst that excruciating pain, Beok Jeong's mind was in hell.
'What did I want...'
Everything was supposed to be brilliant.
The glory of Shaolin.
The more unattainable it was, the more he wanted it in his hands. Like the forbidden fruit that never entered his grasp no matter how desperately he sought it, he wanted it even more desperately.
'I...'
It's all in vain.
That was the phrase he had repeated to himself countless times.
But had he ever truly considered anything to be in vain? Had he ever tried to follow even a bit of that phrase he muttered like a habit?
*Cough*
A misty stream of blood flowed out, reversing its course. How could there be so much blood inside his emaciated body? It was like his greed, held within him against his will.
"Don't feel so wronged."
Jang Ilso's slow voice rang out as he took a step towards Beok Jeong.
"Dying in my hands won't necessarily be a bad ending."
"..."
"Compared to what you'll have to endure if you survive."
Beok Jeong smirked. Perhaps those words were true.
If he died here, he would simply be recorded as a foolish person. But if he survived, he would have to endure unbearable criticism and disgrace with open eyes.
Would he be able to walk through such a thorny path with a human body?
Laughing hollowly, Beok Jeong tried desperately to become the head monk.
But his hands no longer moved. Was it because he had exhausted his strength, or was it because even the Buddha didn't allow him to become the head monk?
Behind Jang Ilso, countless others were still dying.
If it became known that the abbot of Shaolin had been defeated, the slaughter would only accelerate. Foolishly, he had burdened himself with that weight on these powerless shoulders.
"It's all in vain..."
Beok Jeong's head gradually drooped.
A faint sense of discomfort flashed across Jang Ilso's face as he watched Beok Jeong silently.
"This, this... It's now an imitation that doesn't even suit you."
Jang Ilso raised his hand, tinted with blue.
"A pig should die like a pig, don't you think? Making grunting sounds."
Just as Jang Ilso's hand was about to swing down...
*Kwaaaah!*
An authority from somewhere intervened, halting Jang Ilso. Then a desperate scream followed.
"Bangjaaaah!"
Beok Gye, who had lost one arm, charged forward, spraying blood everywhere.
"Wooooo!"
With his remaining hand, Beok Gye's punch landed consecutively on Jang Ilso. Jang Ilso grimaced as he deflected the punches several times.
"This...!"
In that moment, Beok Gye swooped up the kneeling Beok Jeong and swiftly leapt away.
Jang Ilso, who had reflexively raised his hand behind him, hesitated for a moment. Then, surprisingly, he slowly lowered his hand.
"Rye... Alliance lord!"
Jeok Ho, who had been facing Beok Gye, ran over with a pale face and bowed his head.
"I apologize. He wouldn't... give up my arm..."
"Hmm."
Jang Ilso glanced briefly at the rigid Jeok Ho. The moment his gaze brushed against his neck, Jeok Ho trembled involuntarily.
Even if his throat were cut, there was no way to resist. Even if it wasn't carelessness, it was still the same. Incompetence is a greater sin than carelessness.
"Do you understand?"
"Y-Yes?"
Jeok Ho raised his head.
Jang Ilso's gaze had already left him. He was simply gazing silently at the hellish battlefield.
"It's quite a splendid sight, isn't it?"
"S-Sir alliance lord."
"Take a good look. You may never see such a sight again in your lifetime."
Jeok Ho, wide-eyed, looked at Jang Ilso before bowing once again.
"I-I will pursue him."
Jang Ilso chuckled.
"Not very amusing... but as you wish. I suppose I should enjoy the show a bit longer."
"Yes!"
Jeok Ho gritted his teeth and chased after Beok Gye and Beok Jeong.
Glancing indifferently at Jeok Ho once more, Jang Ilso turned his attention back to the blood-soaked battlefield. A flickering flame somewhere cast a deep shadow over his profile.
"Hahaha..."
A feeble laugh escaped him.
"Hahahaha!"
Soon, that laugh turned into a loud guffaw.
His shadow swayed as if dancing twistedly. The streaks of blood flowing on the ground intertwined with his long shadow like a single tear.
❀ ❀ ❀
"Abbot, please restrain me! You must not let go!"
"I... I..."
"Snap out of it, abbot!"
Beok Gye, without needing to hear more, shouted loudly and grabbed Beok Jeong by the waist. Tearing off his own sash, he firmly tied himself to Beok Jeong.
"The abbot must survive! If it's not the abbot, who else can handle what's to come?"
Defeat is irreversible.
No matter how much you wail or shed blood tears, it won't change. Once the fate of this battlefield fell into Jang Ilso's hands, it was already decided.
Anyone can cry and surrender in defeat. But only Beok Jeong can salvage this defeat and save the world from the hands of those wicked sects. That's the only possibility.
So he must survive. At all costs.
"I will definitely make it out alive, definitely! So please hold onto my neck tightly and don't let go!"
Beok Gye's eyes turned watery.
Regret and self-blame can come later.
Even if the soul burns with regret later on, even if delayed repentance traps him in eternal hell, it doesn't matter now.
"Step aside!"
*Kwaaaaah!*
He released an authoritative force from his remaining arm.
Though his severed arm was conspicuous, the real severe wound was the long gash on his side. But Beok Gye, even with his entrails spilling out, simply pressed forward.
"It's him!"
"He's the Shaolin abbot!"
The eyes of those who saw them were filled with greed.
Just like the soldiers of the righteous sects who were drawn to Jang Ilso, the soldiers of the wicked sects were filled with greed the moment they spotted them.
Who could give up the honor of capturing the abbot of Shaolin?
"Capture him!"
Hu Jiaming's formation, pulled together in a hurry, moved immediately. The enemies rushed toward Beok Gye like an avalanche. Beok Gye injected internal strength into his fists.
"Amitabha!"
Arhat Divine Fist.
With the true meaning of Shaolin's fist unleashed, he pushed back the assailants with tremendous force.
Thunk! Thunk!
Unable to overcome the recoil from his fists, Beok Gye gritted his teeth. His wrists couldn't hold, and he let out a scream. But he simply continued to push with even greater strength.
"Woooo!"
The force erupted like cutting through the soul. Opening internal qi alone was too treacherous a path. Despite pushing back and pushing back, those driven by desire relentlessly blocked his path.
His internal strength was bottoming out. But there was no time to hesitate. Beok Gye threw himself at the enemies relentlessly.
*Crash!*
Knocking enemies away with his fists.
*Crash!*
Sweeping enemies aside with his legs.
Wouldn't this be how the compassionate guardian king would act?
Defeating the attackers as they pounced like demons, he continued to move forward, one step at a time.
*Squeak*
With each strike, Beok Gye's fist eradicates his enemies.
*Thunk!*
When a rib bone snaps, his fist restrains evil.
His consciousness gradually blurs, and his body loses strength.
Yet, Beok Gye continues to press forward, carrying a burden heavier than his own body on his shoulders.
"Oh, Tathagata..."
*Kwaaaah!*
An external force strikes his head from somewhere.
The impact crushes his skull, blood streaming from his eyes. But his steps do not falter.
"Now... I understand."
Mere curiosity won't suffice.
Life is a purification, and enlightenment lies within.
One must overcome suffering and not desire what one truly seeks. It's a law that those who practice must accept.
True enlightenment, what Beok Gye truly sought, was right here in this moment.
"Ah!"
But Beok Gye firmly rejects the enlightenment that approaches him.
Though his soul yearns to transcend, his will firmly anchors him to this polluted earth.
"I don't need to understand."
Enlightenment sought throughout life. Perhaps a state of nirvana one might not dare hope for. Any practitioner would not wish for it.
Yet in this moment, Beok Gye sacrifices a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Instead, he raises his fist. Another act of killing, stacking up sins that cannot be washed away even in hundreds of lifetimes. Sins that would condemn him to eternal torment.
*Squeak*
Something grazes his ankle. It was the Taoist who flew in from afar. Even in his hazy consciousness, Beok Gye could sense the Taoist's master.
Eventually, Beok Gye collapses to the ground with Beok Jeong.
"Tathagata..."
He knows.
The Buddha merely watches; he does not intervene. If there's something one desires, one must achieve it oneself.
But even so, this moment is cruel.
"Do not save me..."
Instinctively, Beok Gye twists his body away. If he falls forward, the blades will rain down on Beok Jeong.
It is his body that must take the brunt of the blades.
"Only save the abbot..."
A sharp blade descends.
The Buddha does not extend a helping hand in the end. Silent and indifferent like the dark sky.
"Tathagata..."
But even if it's not the Buddha, there are those who reach out to help.
"Elder!"
*Kwaaaah!*
An external force sweeps in, sending those mercilessly swinging their swords flying.
"Protect the elder!"
"Save the abbot!"
Shaolin. Even if their intentions may differ inside, they are disciples who have silently followed. Shaolin's warriors had suddenly rushed forward.
"You... go!"
"Leave it to us, elder!"
"We must save the abbot!"
Even amidst the enemy's gaze fixed on him, they could somehow have pulled him away and escaped. Yet they chose to come here instead of protecting their own lives.
"Go!"
Someone grabbed Beok Gye's shoulder and lifted him up.
Covered in blood, Beok Gye struggled to stand once more, his body trembling.
Everyone who had rushed here would die. They knew their fate better than anyone. Yet they stood behind Beok Gye, guarding him.
So there was only one thing Beok Gye had to do, wasn't there?
"Amitabha..."
Buddhist prayers, uttered countless times from Beok Gye's lips, flowed faintly.
The name of someone he had never reached even after uttering it countless times. Yet it remained an unattainable name.
It was a resentment toward someone, a desperate wish.
He moved forward, bearing the heavy weight on his back with his entire body.
"The light of Tathagata shines widely... destroying all darkness..."
Buddha's Light Shines. Like a verse from the Avatamsaka Sutra, Beok Gye murmured, and from his body, a faint golden light flowed, as if it could disappear at any moment.
Truly precarious yet magnificent.