Namgung Clan’s Great Sage, Heaven’s Equal

Chapter 68

68. The Shadow of Tripitaka

"Insane!"

Red Tiger screamed in horror.

The air was filled with Fist Shadows.

It was impossible to tell which were illusions and which were real.

There are only two types of people who would reach into the center of Fist Shadows: madmen, or Martial Masters who can distinguish the fakes.

Unfortunately for Red Tiger, Sun Wukong was the latter.

"What's the point of a fast punch if there's no substance behind it?"

Sun Wukong sneered. The red Qi Wave surging from his entire body instantly thinned out the Fist Shadows. Amidst the vanishing shadows, only one fist remained clear. Sun Wukong casually flicked it away with the back of his hand.

"Urgh!"

Even though it was just a flick, the impact was tremendous. Red Tiger's hand turned bright red, his wrist throbbing and trembling.

"Tch!"

Unfazed, Red Tiger swung his fists and feet.

After his fist techniques, he moved on to kicks.

His skills were sharp enough. Sun Wukong's eyes grew calm.

'He seems like just a small fry, but his level isn't bad.'

Even these mere henchmen have decent skills. The background of these fiends is more formidable than expected.

'They must be connected to those people.'

There was something Sun Wukong wanted from the Wudang Sect. And soon, it would be what they wanted, too.

Not just the Seven Star Sword, but also the Golden Binding Rope.

'The Golden Pavilion in Wudang.'

Sun Wukong paid close attention to the fact that Wudang Sect had been attacked.

'The odds are high that it's them.'

With that thought, Sun Wukong calmly watched Red Tiger.

Red Tiger, who had been attacking relentlessly, suddenly realized something.

'He's a Martial Master I can't handle—a monster. But why...?'

He wasn't being killed with a Single Strike.

If Sun Wukong swung that monstrous iron staff, Red Tiger's head would be smashed in an instant.

'He wants to capture me alive and make me talk.'

Red Tiger's mind raced.

Sun Wukong hadn't unleashed a Killing Move.

'If he doesn't intend to kill me, then...'

Sacrifice the flesh to protect the bone.

Recalling the Six Penetrating Bone Breaking Technique, Red Tiger poured all his Internal Qi into a desperate attack.

Sun Wukong frowned. His left hand moved gracefully. At the center of the red Qi Wave forming at his fingertips, a faint True Emptiness appeared. Red Tiger's Internal Qi was devoured instantly. The punch he threw was crushed in a heartbeat.

Crack!

Red Tiger gritted his teeth against the searing pain. He spun quickly, channeling his Internal Qi to its peak, and leaped away.

'That woman!'

Two martial artists from the Namgung Clan were closing in.

Between the upright young man and the expressionless woman, the latter seemed the weaker.

Even if they were from the Namgung Clan, they were still green. At least, they couldn't be worse than this monster Sun Wukong!

'I'll break through there!'

The moment Red Tiger shot forward, Namgung Seo-wol, with her sullen face, drew her sword. A flash of pure white light. Something flickered before his eyes, and the world turned crimson.

Slice.

Only then did Red Tiger realize something had gone terribly wrong.

"Kehek!"

He groaned and tumbled to the ground. His chest was split open, exposing crimson flesh and white ribs.

The shock came so suddenly he couldn't even feel the pain. Red Tiger's pupils shook in terror.

A deep stab wound marked his body—a Killing Move. A merciless slash. If he hadn't twisted his body at the last second, his upper torso would have been severed.

Alarms blared in his mind.

'I'm going to die...!'

A ruthless sword. A hand that didn't hesitate. A single strike filled with murderous intent, meant to take his life in an instant.

Before he could react, the white sword that had torn his chest now aimed for his throat.

Realizing this was the end, Red Tiger squeezed his eyes shut.

Clang!

Instead of pain, a sharp sound rang in his ears.

"Stop, Seo-wol."

Namgung Mu-yeong blocked Seo-wol's sword with a stern face. Seo-wol turned her head to look at Mu-yeong. Seeing her unwavering eyes, Mu-yeong spoke firmly.

"You can't kill him."

"Why not?"

"We're not yet certain if he's a Blood Warrior from Wudang, or the culprit who destroyed the Lesser Immortal Sect."

Emotion slowly crept onto Seo-wol's previously blank face. She frowned in displeasure.

"There could be grudges or enmities we don't know about between the Lesser Immortal Sect and these people. We can't judge who's right or wrong and take a life based on assumptions."

Namgung Mu-yeong spoke forcefully.

Sun Wukong quietly watched their exchange.

No, he couldn't intervene. Suddenly, a voice echoed in his mind, as if his head was throbbing with a memory.

"Especially you, Seo-wol! You're too ruthless with your sword!"

—Your hand is too harsh, Wukong!

"Hmm."

A faint afterimage flickered in his mind.

Sun Wukong rubbed his eyes, swallowing a sigh.

"There's too much Killing Intent in your sword. Just brushing against it feels like my heart will be cut."

—Your gestures are filled with too much Killing Intent.

A gentle voice, a sorrowful face. The hazy shadow lingering in his mind wouldn't disappear, no matter how much he rubbed his eyes.

"He's a bad guy. He killed all those people. There's no forgiveness for evil."

"I know. But like I said, there might be grudges we don't know about. To me, these people look like the villains who annihilated the Lesser Immortal Sect. But what if, by chance, they had a just reason we didn't know about?"

"..."

"What you see isn't everything, Seo-wol. You have to look deeper."

—What you see isn't everything. Look inside, Wukong.

The images overlapped.

Mu-yeong's upright face. And the face of Tripitaka, so upright it was almost frustrating.

"...Tripitaka."

The shadow of Tripitaka loomed.

* * *

'No. I can't say it's Tripitaka yet.'

Sun Wukong shook off the shadow of Tripitaka lingering before his eyes.

'It's not certain.'

Muhwa had been the same before.

The words that came from Muhwa's mouth, the intense sense of déjà vu shaking his mind—even the mood and emotions. Didn't Tripitaka's image overlap with him?

'Though, in the end, he was Bajie.'

Thinking about that always made him laugh.

Zhu Bajie, of all people.

That fat pig and the scrawny Muhwa—there was no way they could overlap.

Sun Wukong looked at Mu-yeong again.

'Tripitaka influenced everyone.'

Tripitaka's words and actions inspired those around him.

Even Sun Wukong, who denied it outwardly, had to admit he'd changed under Tripitaka's influence.

'Maybe this guy is another who was influenced by Tripitaka.'

Sun Wukong pushed away any hasty conclusions.

He turned his gaze to Seo-wol.

'And her...'

If he weren't Sun Wukong himself—

'I'd have thought she was Sun Wukong.'

Sun Wukong smiled wryly.

Her sword strikes showed no hesitation, overflowing with Killing Intent.

A fierce determination to kill in a single blow—just like Sun Wukong in the past.

So then—

'Who are you?'

He couldn't figure it out. Sun Wukong stared at Seo-wol.

Maybe it was because they'd crossed swords for days and he'd taught her a thing or two.

He could sense that, beneath her blank expression, many emotions were swirling.

Seo-wol glared at Mu-yeong with her sullen eyes for a long moment, then abruptly turned away.

'Guess she's upset.'

She looked like she had a lot to say but wouldn't say it. Mu-yeong, sensing this, wore a troubled expression and spoke to Sun Wukong.

"Master Sun, do you agree with my decision?"

"Me?"

"You deliberately refrained from using a Killing Move against him. I assume you intended to capture him alive and extract information."

Sun Wukong nodded slowly.

It wasn't for the upright reasons Mu-yeong mentioned.

For Sun Wukong, it was a matter of utility.

The value of a prisoner who could spill information.

"In that case, I'll leave his fate to you, Master Sun. I'll bring the woman from the Lesser Immortal Sect and find out if he's truly a fiend, and why they were attacked."

Sun Wukong's eyes narrowed.

In truth, Mu-yeong, Seo-wol, and Sun Wukong all knew the truth.

This guy was definitely a fiend, and the Lesser Immortal Sect was simply a victim.

Mu-yeong was surely convinced of it, too.

'Yet he's still double-checking, worrying about any possible innocent victims.'

Such stubbornness and uprightness.

Now he understood why people in the Namgung Clan thought Mu-yeong was an oddball, even weak.

'But it's because he's stronger and more steadfast inside than anyone else that he can maintain such uprightness.'

He doesn't bend to his environment.

'Just like that guy.'

Just like Tripitaka.

* * *

Red Tiger, who had clamped his mouth shut as if he'd never speak, couldn't hold out against Sun Wukong's torture disguised as the Pressure Point Sealing Technique.

"Is that really all you know?"

Sun Wukong glared at him in disappointment.

"I—I really don't know anything else."

Sun Wukong stared at him, clearly dissatisfied.

Red Tiger's body trembled as their eyes met.

Those eerie red eyes, shining golden pupils.

It felt like his mind was burning white-hot.

Sun Wukong clicked his tongue and looked away.

"Just a small fry after all."

"Still... at least we confirmed they're fiends."

"Well, that much was obvious."

He hadn't learned much, but he did get one important piece of information.

"If a Wudang Taoist survived and hasn't been caught yet..."

A Taoist had escaped the Blood Warriors and fled to the Lesser Immortal Sect.

The pursuers tracked him down, and the Lesser Immortal Sect was annihilated.

It turned out the Lesser Immortal Sect was a Daoist sect.

Even their leader had once studied Daoism and was an outside disciple of the Wudang Sect.

When the Wudang Taoist fled there, they did everything to help him.

That was why they walked the path of annihilation...

"That Taoist is the key."

At Namgung Mu-yeong's words, Sun Wukong nodded.

"They're not just trying to wipe out all survivors."

Anyone who survived the Blood Warriors had seen and heard too much.

Killing them would be the logical way to prevent any future trouble.

But the fiends' actions were excessive if their only goal was to silence witnesses.

"They should be hiding quickly after striking, but they're still running rampant."

"They want more than just killing the Taoist. There's something else."

"We need to find the Taoist first."

Sun Wukong felt a strong intuition.

"We can't let them get to him."

Mu-yeong nodded in agreement.

For Mu-yeong, it was about not letting righteous sects fall to obvious heretics.

But for Sun Wukong, that wasn't the only reason.

'If they're so desperate to catch him, he must be really important.'

Taking what matters most from your enemy is the key to victory.

Sun Wukong intended to exploit that weakness.

"For now, we should sever their tendons and destroy their dantian, then send them to the Namgung Clan, or to the Wudang Sect or Murim Alliance."

"...Why?"

"Because they're clearly evil. They killed a Murim Alliance envoy, so either the Murim Alliance or Wudang Sect should judge them. If that's not possible, since this happened in Anhui Province, we should throw them in the Namgung Clan's Heavenly Prison."

Sun Wukong frowned.

Suddenly, his chest felt tight.

"Fine, but who's going to take them?"

"Well..."

"We need to chase the fiends now. When will we have time to escort these guys?"

Mu-yeong fell silent at Sun Wukong's words.

He seemed to understand, but there was also a hint of dissatisfaction.

'Ah, this is exactly how Tripitaka acted when he was being stubborn.'

Annoyance flared in Sun Wukong. If Mu-yeong said one more word, he was ready to smack him on the head.

Luckily for Mu-yeong, it didn't go beyond a thought.

Slice— A chilling sound cut through the air, and with a gurgling groan, Red Tiger died.

Mu-yeong's face hardened as he turned away.

Sun Wukong's eyebrow twitched slightly.

"..."

It wasn't just Red Tiger. All around, black-clad men lay bleeding.

Though Sun Wukong had punched holes in their bodies with his iron staff, they'd all somehow survived.

Namgung Seo-wol made sure of that by driving her sword deep into each one.

Neck, heart, solar plexus, forehead.

Her actions were mechanical—stab, withdraw. A simple, emotionless repetition.

By the time none of the black-clad men were breathing,

Seo-wol calmly sheathed her bloodstained sword.

A heavy silence settled over them.