Sword God Reborn

Chapter 45 : You Bald-Headed Monk

The eighteen Arhat monks, the martial arts group that fought at the forefront during external invasions and attacks.

The Arhat monks had rushed out of the Arhat Hall where they had been staying all at once as soon as the attack began.

The 108 members were divided into 6 teams of 18 and had scattered.

Among them, the most elite was the 1st team.

The 1st team had headed straight for the pavilion where over two hundred pilgrims were staying. Fortunately, since they had moved quickly, there were no casualties yet, but in the ensuing attack, the Arhat monks had fallen one by one.

"Unleash the Eighteen Arhat Formation!"

The 1st team leader, Seon-gak, shouted with a heart that was vomiting blood, but only fourteen had gathered.

In that short time, four Arhat monks had already fallen.

The Eighteen Arhat Formation was a square formation made up of eighteen people.

With fourteen, its power was bound to be significantly reduced.

But even so, there was not a single trace of fear on the faces of the Arhat monks who were forming the square formation.

"Remember! If we fall, Shaolin falls!"

Was that all? What about the commoners who were trembling behind the Arhat monks?

Screams and the sound of weapons were constantly coming out of the Jahye-gak, where the martial artists who had visited Shaolin were staying.

Those guys were not just trying to destroy Shaolin, but everything in Shaolin.

If the Arhat monks were pushed back here, the commoners who had come through the rough road just to pray would not be able to escape death.

Seon-gak gritted his teeth.

Puak!

Although he had splendidly split the head of the masked man who was rushing at him with his palm energy, his hardened face did not relax.

'There are too many!'

The level of the enemies was not that great.

But their numbers were ridiculously large. On the other hand, this side was ridiculously lacking.

Except for the Arhat monks who could fight properly, the majority were scholar monks or ordinary Buddhist monks. The young monks who were just learning martial arts had a very slow growth rate due to the characteristics of the Shaolin martial arts, which were the most orthodox of the orthodox.

In the end, the Arhat Hall had to block all this.

Fortunately, they had been holding out somehow until now, but the terrible situation where two would rush in when one was dealt with was just gloomy.

"Ugh!"

"Junior brother!"

At that moment, one of the Arhat monks who was forming the square formation vomited blood and fell.

The Eighteen Arhat Formation was a square formation that minimized damage and inflicted maximum damage on the opponent.

If one person who had formed the square formation was attacked, the other Arhat monks would receive the attack together and reduce the damage.

So there was no such thing as dying in a single stroke.

If there was, it was a powerful master that even the square formation could not do anything about.

"Damn it! Behind us too...!"

The corner of Seon-gak's eye trembled.

A surprise attack from behind, where the square formation was vulnerable.

In Seon-gak's eyes, he saw a commoner in worn-out clothes stabbing a knife with an indifferent face.

"So they were already inside Shaolin!"

Seon-gak let out a long sigh.

"Uwaaak!"

"S-Save me!"

"Run away!"

It wasn't just one.

The number of guys who were mercilessly brandishing their knives among the trembling commoners increased one by one.

They were not just martial artists of a martial sect, but also disciples of Buddhism.

The Arhat monks were full of the thought that they had to protect the dying commoners somehow.

But the more they did, the more their hands and feet became disoriented and the square formation became loose.

Weren't their numbers already small?

"Keok!"

Another Arhat monk fell.

Now there were twelve.

The Eighteen Arhat Formation had become so loose that the name 'Eighteen Formation' was meaningless.

Seon-gak felt gloomy.

Endlessly pouring enemies and a remarkably lacking number of allies.

'The thousand-year Shaolin is here...'

He was born and raised in Shaolin.

To be precise, he had been abandoned at the gate of Shaolin.

He had once resented his mother who had abandoned him when he heard the truth.

But at Shaolin, he had learned Buddhism and martial arts and had relieved his hatred.

He had lived, regarding Shaolin as his new mother and father.

He had grown up hearing about the greatness of Shaolin.

He had grown up memorizing the precepts of the numerous seniors who had passed away while protecting the world during the righteous-demonic war.

So how excited had he been when Shaolin had lifted its seclusion and had declared its re-entry into the martial world?

A huge roof that protected the world.

Hadn't he thought that he would train his martial arts even harder, dreaming of the Great Shaolin Temple?

'What on earth is the Great Shaolin Temple!'

Seon-gak bit his lip until it bled.

He scanned the surroundings with bloodshot pupils.

'To not even be able to protect the sentient beings who have come into the embrace of Shaolin, and to talk about protecting the world. What on earth is the Great Shaolin Temple!'

A roof that protected the world.

Recalling the seniors who had gloriously passed away in the righteous-demonic war, Seon-gak felt a mad self-loathing.

He couldn't even protect the sentient beings who had come to pray at Shaolin, and that too, not from the demon-like Demonic Cult, but from unknown attackers.

That fact was more dizzying and painful than the blade that was piercing his whole body.

"Senior brother! We'll die if we stay like this! Please evacuate first!"

"Where do we evacuate to! If we evacuate, what about the remaining people!"

Seon-gak poured out his palm energy with bloodshot eyes.

If this continued, the time they could hold out was less than half a quarter of an hour.

Seon-gak decided that he would not run away even if he died here. He shouted with a heart that was vomiting blood.

"All things that have come into the embrace of Shaolin are Shaolin! Protect your positions as befits the name of an Arhat monk!"

As he shouted so and was about to shoot his palm energy at the masked man again.

A white radiance poured down from the empty air.

Seon-gak's pupils widened.

'...Is it a divine general sent by Buddha?'

Suddenly, such an absurd and baseless thought popped into his head.

Was that all?

The appearance of the man who had come out from within the radiance, eating up the terrible darkness, was not just intense but majestic.

As soon as the man landed on the ground, he swung his sword in all directions.

Whenever the brilliant radiance flashed, a fierce momentum poured out, and the masked men vomited blood and fell.

That sight was reflected as if the light were swallowing up the masked men.

Like moths flying into a fire and burning, the masked men fell as if they were being burned by the light.

"The Unhindered Light?"

Someone among the Arhat monks muttered.

At those words, Seon-gak nodded his head without even realizing it.

The light of wisdom that repels all sorts of demons.

The light of Buddha that nothing can block was visible.

"Namu Amitabha..."

Seon-gak's voice, who was chanting a Buddhist prayer, trembled.

* * *

"These guys are bigger in scale than I thought."

Cheon Mubaeck frowned and swung his sword.

The number of Blood Ghost Valley members who had attacked Shaolin far exceeded Cheon Mubaeck's expectations.

Because the entire Shaolin was being attacked.

'There seem to be about four hundred of them...'

Four hundred. To think that this many people were mobilized for a single surprise attack.

They were all martial artists who were at least at the second-rate level.

Seogeok!

And he didn't know what kind of training they had received or what they had eaten, but those guys did not back down and silently rushed at him even when their comrades were brutally dying.

'Of course, since they're attacking Shaolin, they might have brought a lot of people.'

At least mobilizing four hundred second-rate martial artists was an enormous scale.

Even Shaolin itself did not have a decent martial arts group except for the current 108 Arhat monks.

'Well. They have to be at this level to use the Blood Demon Sect as their subordinates.'

It was understandable.

In fact, it was because the Blood Demon Sect elders and the Henan base had been so easily destroyed by Cheon Mubaeck.

Wasn't the Blood Demon Sect a cult that had shaken the martial world even hundreds of years ago?

They were crazy bastards who had performed the Soul-Sucking Demonic Art, offering not only the prestigious orthodox sects but also the unorthodox sects, and even martial artists as sacrifices.

Since they were guys who treated such crazy bastards like well-behaved dogs, the Blood Ghost Valley was definitely not to be trifled with.

'No matter how weakened Shaolin is, they are also crazy bastards to have the thought of annihilating Shaolin.'

In the martial world, a crazy bastard is scarier than a strong bastard.

'The valley of the ghosts who are crazy about blood. Then the head of that place must be a crazy ghost. A mad ghost.'

The guys with the character 'mad' (狂) in their title had always made a name for themselves in the martial world in a bad way.

Cheon Mubaeck arbitrarily named the head of the Blood Ghost Valley 'Mad Ghost'.

Since he had not revealed himself in the martial world, he would not have a title.

It wouldn't matter if Cheon Mubaeck called him whatever he wanted.

"Alright. Let's have a life-or-death battle!"

Cheon Mubaeck swung his sword without hesitation.

Whenever he swung his sword, the masked men fell in droves.

The mouths of the Arhat monks, who had been fighting for their lives with them just a moment ago, fell open as they fell so powerlessly.

The blades of the masked men were swept away by the radiance and lost their direction powerlessly, and were stuck in the ground.

At that sight, the Arhat monks were at a loss for a moment, and then they shouted.

"Everyone, release the Eighteen Formation and fight on your own!"

Cheon Mubae-ck glanced at Seon-gak, who was shouting so, and smirked.

'Shaolin is Shaolin. How many times has it been?'

In fact, Cheon Mubaeck had been going around here and there, saving those who were in danger.

Since Shaolin had been attacked after he had mentioned the Blood Ghost Valley, Cheon Mubaeck also felt a sense of responsibility and had tried to protect Shaolin.

'The Heaven-Shaking Soul Art is helpful.'

The efficacy of the upper dantian, which was sensitive to external qi, and the Heaven-Shaking Soul Art was also demonstrated here.

He could spread his qi sense widely and detect the clash of qi waves that was happening throughout Shaolin.

Thanks to that, Cheon Mubaeck had saved the most endangered situations first.

"Protect the people first!"

Cheon Mubaeck looked at the Arhat monks who were fighting to protect the trembling people, even while being covered in wounds.

'The martial sects. Not a single one of them is protecting the secret library.'

Cheon Mubaeck let out a hollow laugh.

If a sect of the Central Plains was attacked, it was natural to protect the most important place first.

Usually, it was the place where all the secret manuals containing all the martial arts of that sect were collected.

Wasn't that a martial sect?

But the current Shaolin was not. Of course, there were a few people who were protecting the secret library, but the places where the majority were fighting fiercely were places like this.

Shaolin had fought to protect the people who had come to visit Shaolin.

Not to protect the martial arts, but to protect the people.

At that fact, Cheon Mubaeck suddenly recalled his past life.

At that time, when the righteous-demonic war was heading towards its end.

Cheon Mubaeck had visited the collapsing Shaolin.

Shaolin, which was on the verge of the choice of seclusion, was preparing for a final battle against the Demonic Cult.

At that time, Cheon Mubaeck had sealed the Red Buddha Hermitage together.

'Esteemed one, Shaolin will become weak.'

'It will become weak. Because everything is being sealed in this Red Buddha Hermitage.'

'The martial arts will be cut off, the elixirs will disappear, the internal energy will also become insufficient, and the strong monks who can protect Shaolin will disappear. Perhaps even the Arhat monks will disappear.'

'That's right.'

'If so, Shaolin will surely become weak. But I believe. Shaolin will become strong and firm again.'

'...'

'The spirit of Shaolin will be strong and firm. It will pity the weak, not back down in the face of evil, and will not lose the heart of Buddha. Shaolin will become strong. Esteemed Sword God. Isn't that right?'

Cheon Mubaeck looked around the landscape of Shaolin with eyes full of regret.

The appearance of the Great Shaolin Temple, which had boasted the greatest prosperity in the Central Plains, was gone.

It was full of tragic scenes of being broken, destroyed, and burned here and there.

In that sight, Cheon Mubaeck recalled the previous-previous abbot of Shaolin, Cheonseung, who had been on the verge of death with a pale face.

Cheon Mubaeck smiled and nodded his head.

'Shaolin has become strong. You bald-headed monk.'

(End of Chapter)