Regression of the Yong Clan Heir

Chapter 371 : Dharma Three Swords (1)



Chapter 371 : Dharma Three Swords (1)

Chapter 371: Dharma Three Swords (1)

Surprisingly, since the matter was wrapped up smoothly, Reverend Mang Wu shifted the subject.

“Bring Jeong Hang, Wun Mang, and Cheong Mong here. We shall investigate whether the Explosive Phosphorus Pellets are truly embedded in their bodies.”

Soon, the three prodigies arrived. After carefully examining them, Reverend Mang Wu opened his mouth with a darkened expression.

“As I thought, these three have poison rampant throughout their bodies, violent as if on the verge of exploding. This must be the Explosive Phosphorus Pellet.”

At that, someone spoke.

“Ah, then these three must be grateful to Young Master Yong. Without him, their bodies would have exploded while circulating qi. Had that happened, the three sects would have lost their greatest prodigies.”

Yong Hwarin smiled as he glanced at Peng Giok, who deliberately spoke in a loud voice.

He was making a fuss because it concerned his friend.

Namgung Yoo followed up from the side.

“Exactly. And to think that we, ignorant of this, treated the Heavenly Central Sect and Young Master Yong like demonic heretics. Truly, I want to crawl into a rat hole.”

The two of them feigned ignorance of Yong Hwarin and spoke deliberately.

Their words were directed at the heads of the Nine Great Sects, who had treated the Heavenly Central Sect as heretics.

Hearing this, the leaders of the Nine Great Sects lowered their heads.

“Wasn’t the saying that ‘a true knight-errant is bestowed by heaven’ coined because martial artists with true chivalry are so rare? And yet, to treat the famed chivalrous Young Master Yong as a demonic heretic—why, even a passing dog would laugh! I want to ask those who labeled Yong as a heretic if they ever once acted as true knights-errant themselves!”

Tang Cheolgi retorted forcefully.

Up until now, he had been displeased with the way things unfolded. Once Peng Giok and Namgung Yoo spoke, he seized the chance to add his voice.

His candid words brought a laugh from Peng Giok, who turned to him.

“Ah, isn’t this none other than Young Master Tang Cheolgi of the Tang Clan? The Tang Clan’s young lord who, after a hundred years, produced a true knight-errant! They say only a knight-errant recognizes another. Truly, it seems so.”

As Peng Giok praised him, Tang Cheolgi raised his voice even louder.

“I risked my life alongside Young Master Yong to rescue countless orthodox martial artists who were held hostage in the Blood Demon Castle. Through that, I came to know what kind of man he is—a true knight-errant who spares no thought for his own life when it comes to righteousness! Yet the Nine Great Sects, who did nothing to save them, dare to slander Yong? I cannot stomach it, so I had to speak!”

Tang Cheolgi knew well that praising Yong Hwarin also raised his own stature.

With Peng Giok’s recognition, he became even bolder, lashing out at the Nine Great Sects without reserve.

But none of the elders or martial artists of the Nine Great Sects dared to argue back.

In truth, they had indeed belittled both the Heavenly Central Sect and Yong Hwarin as heretics, never ceasing their denigration.

On top of that, they had even tried to pin the blame for Taoist Cheongmyeong’s death by Explosive Phosphorus Pellet upon him, leaving them utterly speechless.

Jaegal Cheongyeong, unable to contain her pent-up fury any longer, muttered as if spitting it out.

“They say the tiger, after ten li, still eats meat, but the dog, even after a hundred li, still eats dung. It seems that saying was true.”

In its way, it was a vicious insult toward the Nine Great Sects, yet no one dared rebuke her words.

Jaegal Cheongyeong wished nothing more than to grab and thrash those who had dared treat Yong Hwarin as a heretic.

To see cloistered men, who only secluded themselves in mountains and cultivated Dao, label him out of jealousy without knowing who he truly was—she found it abhorrent.

Until now, she had been doubtful about the alliance of the Twelve Great Families, but now she changed her mind.

She realized that the Nine Great Sects were, in fact, narrow-minded and selfish, intent on never allowing the Twelve Great Families to rise to their level.

Just as three hundred years ago, so too now would they guard their position for another thousand years.

Originally, the Twelve Great Families had considered nominating Wudang’s Dong Seonja as the Alliance Leader of Baekjongmeng, but now they thought otherwise.

Quietly, the Twelve Families and their forces began shifting toward supporting the Lady of Mount Lu.

Yong Biyang, Mo Biyoung, Jong Seok, and the Violent Dragon Twin Swords were shut away in their rooms, training in the martial arts Yong Hwarin had imparted.

Among them, Mo Biyoung and Jong Seok had seemingly gained insight and were practicing movements in the rear courtyard.

Yong Hwarin turned to Deungae, who stood guard, and gave thanks.

“Elder Deung, you’ve worked hard.”

Since everyone else was cultivating, Deungae naturally became their protector, standing watch.

Whenever they circulated qi, he volunteered without fail to keep guard.

“It is nothing. I am happy.”

Finding no reason why guarding would be joyful, Yong asked.

“Why are you happy?”

“For the first time in my life, I have people who treat me like family. Being with them makes me feel as if I, too, belong to their family. There is no greater joy than protecting one’s family.”

Yong Hwarin grasped Deungae’s hand.

“Forever, Elder Deung, you are of the Heavenly Central Sect.”

“I know. I have no intention of leaving the Heavenly Central Sect.”

After this warm exchange, Yong found himself missing his friends.

Since tomorrow he was to duel against the descendants of the Three Demonic Heavens, he could not remain idle.

“I should at least go see their faces.”

Though he had hoped to share stories with his friends at Shaolin, he had hardly found the time.

Each was busy with meetings among the Twelve Great Families, leaving no room for private encounters.

Shaolin itself was ablaze with heated contention over the election of the Baekjongmeng Alliance Leader.

Not knowing when he might meet them again, Yong Hwarin slipped out of his quarters late at night.

Heading west toward the Guest Hall where the Twelve Families stayed, Yong suddenly sensed a flash of thunderous qi in the forest.

‘What was that? It felt like thunder qi.’

Since he had practiced with thunder qi through his Self-Revolving Inner Qi, he recognized it immediately.

But for such qi to appear within Shaolin’s sacred grounds at such an hour was strange indeed.

Yong approached the source.

“Ah, here…”

The place he arrived at, through the forest, was none other than the Forest of Pagodas.

Shaolin’s Pagoda Forest enshrined the sarira of its past high monks, numbering more than two hundred pagodas.

They varied in height and design, making the site significant even architecturally.

The size of the pagoda was determined by the amount of sarira and the monk’s rank—taller pagodas symbolized greater attainment.

Most were two to three times the height of a man, so stepping into the forest felt like entering a towering thicket of stone.

At the center of this forest, Yong Hwarin found the source of the thunderous qi.

Hiding his presence with Dragon Concealment Heavenly Art, he crept closer and saw two people fighting.

Yet strangely, there was no killing intent between them.

And one of them was someone Yong knew all too well.

‘Why is the Lady of Mount Lu here?’

Her opponent was a monk Yong had never seen before, suggesting one who rarely left Shaolin’s inner sanctum.

After a long exchange of sword strikes, the two suddenly leapt apart as if by prior agreement.

“So, you abandoned me only to learn this much?”

From the Lady of Mount Lu’s lips spilled bitter resentment.

“How could this humble monk ever reach the heights of the Lady of Mount Lu?”

“Hmph, so you abandoned me to chase after the vaunted Dharma Three Swords? Show me, then. If you truly mastered them, I would not resent you. Abandoning me would have at least gained you the Dharma Three Swords.”

Yong Hwarin was startled. He had only ever seen the Lady of Mount Lu as kind and serene; this cold side of her was unfamiliar.

“Our bond has already passed. Why does the Lady still cling so?”

“You may have forgotten, but I cannot. I cannot forget your betrayal.”

“It was not betrayal, only that I entered the monastic life. Please, understand.”

“Then show me the Dharma Three Swords you sought to attain.”

Long ago, the Lady of Mount Lu’s beloved had left her, entering Shaolin as a monk to learn the Dharma Three Swords, said to stand at the pinnacle of all martial arts.

Gifted in martial talent, Shaolin accepted him—but for the Lady, it meant being abandoned for martial pursuit.

The shock had left her unmarried and alone to this day.

“Alas, so be it. The Dharma Three Swords are no mere techniques. They are Heart-Swords. And only recently did I understand why they are called so. I shall now show you the Dharma Three Swords as I have realized them. Watch carefully.”

The Lady’s tone grew cold.

“You will not be punished for revealing the Dharma Three Swords to another?”

The monk chuckled softly.

“No. If another gains enlightenment from beholding them, it is said to build great merit. For the Dharma Three Swords are not martial arts, but the words of the Buddha.”

Hearing this, Yong Hwarin felt lighter. He had thought it sinful to overhear their exchange, even considered leaving when the monk mentioned demonstrating the Dharma Three Swords.

Yet the name alone had rooted his feet, torn between leaving and staying.

“For years, I wondered why Shaolin’s supreme art was the Dharma Three Swords, and why they were called ‘Three.’ The so-called forms left behind seemed so poor, not even equal to the Three Talents Sword Art.”

Though he could have simply demonstrated, the monk instead explained, believing it a final courtesy to the woman he once abandoned.

“Just show the form.”

The Lady urged, but the monk shook his head.

“You must hear me. The Dharma Three Swords’ forms seemed poor because they were never forms at all. The true shock was that each great monk of old had their own unique Dharma Three Swords. When I discovered this truth…”

He paused, then spoke with quiet regret.

“…I regretted abandoning a woman in my past.”

At this, the Lady of Mount Lu faltered.

To Yong Hwarin, she looked like a leaf trembling in the wind.

She forced herself to cut him short.

“I don’t want to hear about some secret verse.”

The monk gave a bitter smile.

“You may not believe me, but the Dharma Three Swords never had any such verse at all.”

“That’s impossible.”

In murim, there were indeed martial arts capable of reaching the Heart-Sword realm, though they were rare.

The most renowned were Shaolin’s Dharma Three Swords and Wudang’s Tai Chi Profound Sword.

Both required attainment of the Heart-Sword realm before one could grasp them.

Yet even in Shaolin and Wudang, only once every few generations did a single master truly reach such a state.


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