The defeat at the Red River had left the Murim Alliance in a state of spiritual paralysis. Their scouts were blind, their treasuries were empty, and their pride was a shattered mirror. In this hour of darkness, the "Justice" faction turned to its final, most ancient deterrent: the Songshan mountain range, home to the Shaolin Temple.
The Shaolin Monks were the "muscles" of the Orthodox Path, a sect that typically remained neutral in the squabbles of the Five Families. But as the Yun Clan's "Declaration of Sovereignty" began to reshape the social order, the Shaolin Abbot, Master Wuan, saw not a revolution, but a descent into chaotic heresy. To the Shaolin, the "Nature Realm" was a state of Buddhist enlightenment to be achieved through centuries of discipline, not a "meritocratic right" for commoners.
The intervention occurred at the Pass of the Iron Buddha, the final geographic gateway leading into the heart of the Anhui Sovereign Zone. Five hundred "Arhat" monks, their heads shaved and their robes the color of dried saffron, stood in a perfect, unmoving wall across the narrow mountain pass.
The Wall of Living Gold
Leading them was Master Wuan, a warrior who had achieved Venerate Rank-8 status. He had spent forty years in the Bodhidharma Hall, forging his flesh into something that transcended the biological.
"Yun Baek-Ho," Wuan's voice boomed, vibrating with the resonance of the Lion's Roar technique. "You have disrupted the balance of the Central Plains. You have taught the weak to covet the sky before they have learned to walk the earth. Step forward and submit to the Discipline Hall, or we shall be forced to perform the Great Suppression."
Yun Baek-Ho appeared at the northern end of the pass. He was alone, his white linen robes flapping in the biting mountain wind. He looked at the five hundred monks and then at Wuan, whose skin was beginning to shimmer with a metallic, yellow luster.
"Master Wuan," Baek-Ho said, bowing slightly. "The Shaolin teach that the 'Self' is an illusion. Yet, you have spent your entire life turning your body into a monument of iron. Is that not the ultimate attachment?"
Wuan's eyes flared. "It is a vessel for the Dharma! Form the Indestructible Golden Body Array!"
The five hundred monks moved in perfect unison. They struck their palms against the earth, channeling their internal energy through their collective meridians. A dome of solid gold light erupted across the pass. The monks' skin turned into a literal, physical metal—the Invincible Golden Body at Rank 8 mastery. At this level, a warrior becomes immune to poisons, environmental extremes, and even the most concentrated "Sword Qi" from a Peak Master.
The Physics of the Void
"Your defense is built on the logic of 'Hardness,'" Baek-Ho said, walking toward the golden wall. "You believe that if you make your shell dense enough, the world cannot hurt you. But the Yun do not strike the shell."
Baek-Ho didn't draw a blade. He didn't even manifest a "Martial Soul" pressure. He simply placed a single, relaxed palm against the center of the golden dome.
This was the Vibration-Shattering Palm, a technique that utilized the "Soft Break" principles of the Universal Origin Scripture. Instead of meeting the golden wall with force, Baek-Ho synchronized his internal Ki with the resonant frequency of the gold-attuned energy.
"Soft" styles in the Murim typically deflect or dodge, but the Yun's application was more insidious. Baek-Ho utilized a Complete Energy Transfer, a strike that relied on gravity and resonance rather than muscle. The energy didn't hit the monks' skin; it bypassed their physical form entirely, traveling directly into their "Origin Source"—the very foundation of their Dantians.
The Cracking of the Buddha
A sound like a single, high-pitched bell echoed through the pass.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, a microscopic hairline fracture appeared on Master Wuan's chest. The fracture didn't bleed; it glowed with a faint, white light. Within seconds, the crack spread to the monk standing behind him, and then to the next, like a ripple across a frozen lake.
The "Indestructible" dome didn't explode—it dissolved.
Master Wuan fell to his knees, his golden skin fading back to pale, bruised flesh. He coughed, but it was not blood he expelled; it was a mist of his own dissipated internal energy. The five hundred Arhat monks collapsed simultaneously, their "Golden Bodies" shattered not by a more powerful force, but by the absolute cessation of their resonance.
"Hardness is just another name for stagnation," Baek-Ho said, looking down at the Abbot. "The Yun Clan is the wind, Master Wuan. You can build a golden wall, but the wind will always find the gap."
Wuan looked up, his eyes wide with a terrifying realization. He had seen the "Nature Realm" in Baek-Ho's strike—the ability to overwrite the very concept of "invincibility" with the truth of the void.
The Shaolin intervention had failed. The "Iron Buddha" had been broken by a single palm, and as the news traveled back to the Murim Alliance, the last vestige of their confidence evaporated. The path to the West was open, and the Yun Clan's ascension was no longer a threat—it was a law of nature.
The first phase of the war was over. The Alliance had exhausted its armies, its gold, and its gods. Now, as the sun set behind the pass, the world turned its gaze toward the ruins of the Old Order, waiting for the first stones of the Murim Federation to be laid.