The moment Geum-myeong thrust his fist forward, the awkward atmosphere faded and the sparring bout began.
The golden internal energy flowing from that massive body. Naturally, it wasn't Protective Qi, nor was he forcing a Qi Flame to envelop his entire body.
It was simply that the Fist Energy wrapped around both fists spread its light across his whole frame in an unusual way.
It wasn't flashy, nor bright enough to dazzle the eyes.
Yet the golden giant, gently radiating light from within, felt oddly oppressive—even though the fist wasn't aimed at me, and even though I could block it easily if I wanted to.
It was as if a massive wall were charging at me, the entire space collapsing in on itself…
"Huh?"
Only now did I realize that Geum-myeong's massive frame was indeed gliding forward.
His upper body was perfectly still, so for a moment I thought I'd imagined throwing a punch from a standstill.
It was like a Buddha statue charging at me. This was the first time I'd seen it with my own eyes, but I knew the name of that footwork.
"Immovable Wisdom King Step…"
"That's right. You know your stuff?"
Gak-myeong's voice came from beside me. Without turning my head, I kept my focus on the sparring bout and nodded.
"It's famous enough to be called that. If anything, isn't it one of the Shaolin Temple's symbols?"
"A symbol, you say. I suppose it would look that way…"
Gak-myeong's reaction was somehow unconvincing. Perhaps he noticed my puzzled expression, for he let out a faint chuckle.
"I will tell you later. For now, it would be best to focus on the sparring bout."
"You are right."
This was, after all, a sparring bout between Seomun Hwa-rin, once called Baekbal Nachal, and a Vajra Guardian. Where else would one ever get to see such a thing?
As if determined not to miss a single detail, I raised my eye power and studied the flow of the match.
Geum-myeong appeared rigid, yet he moved with fluid grace, unleashing an unceasing barrage of attacks.
Perhaps because of the faintly rising Fist Energy, his fists looked unimpressive at first glance… but that was only a story told by the eyes.
Every Fist Strike I felt through my open Qi Sense was as heavy as Mount Tai itself.
To pour out such power while remaining as calm as if out for a stroll—his movements were utterly serene.
This meant he was holding back strength in reserve, and anyone who recklessly tried to counter with force would suffer a great misfortune.
If it were me, I would have fought by dodging or deflecting as much as possible, watching for any opening.
But Seomun Hwa-rin was different.
The massive fist of the Vajra Guardian, evoking the image of a Buddha statue. Against it, Seomun Hwa-rin's small frame seemed so slender it was almost pitiful…
But to her, this was no problem at all.
A tiny fist, clenched tight. Yet upon it, Seomun Hwa-rin's Fist Strike, tinged with a fierce crimson Fist Energy, shot forth.
As if intercepting the rain of the Vajra's fists, Seomun Hwa-rin met each and every one with her own fist, striking them back one by one.
Truly, it was a crude response, but for Seomun Hwa-rin, it was the most effective one possible.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Each time their fists, large and small, collided, shattered internal energy burst outward as an energy wave along with a loud noise.
It was like a small child facing a giant, fighting without yielding a single inch.
I wasn't the only one who thought so—from the side, sounds of dumbfounded admiration kept coming. Mostly from the Shaolin Temple people.
Tang So-wol and Seol Ri-hyang had already seen Seomun Hwa-rin overturn a river with her two fists and split a mudslide that seemed twice my height, so to them, this was a familiar sight.
Though her frame was small, Seomun Hwa-rin's fists carried the power to clear away anything that stood in her path.
At first, they seemed to be evenly matched, but as the fists exchanged, Geum-gyeong began to be pushed back little by little.
His fists were blocked before they could fully extend, and sometimes he was even knocked back, unable to withstand the impact.
At first, it had seemed like Seomun Hwa-rin was merely countering Geum-gyeong's offense, but before anyone knew it, the tables had turned—now Geum-gyeong was barely holding on against Seomun Hwa-rin's attacks.
Perhaps realizing that things couldn't continue this way, Geum-gyeong began to unleash a more diverse array of martial arts.
With fists, with palms, with legs, and sometimes with a grappling style that slammed his entire body into the opponent.
Using his Indestructible Vajra Body as a weapon, he poured out a seemingly countless number of techniques.
A combination that was completely different yet seamlessly connected… though he was seeing it for the first time, it felt strangely familiar. It was the Seventy-Two Ultimate Techniques that Gakjeong had once displayed.
Each individual strike had lost some of its heaviness, but that did not mean it had grown weaker.
Geum-myeong's judgment wasn't bad. Against an ordinary opponent, they would have panicked here and handed over the initiative.
As expected, it was a move that didn't work on Seomun Hwa-rin.
Whether Geum-myeong's martial art changed or not, Seomun Hwa-rin silently kept throwing punches. Her Fist Strikes were growing stronger with each one. As if asking whether he could withstand this too.
If Geum-myeong's martial art was a central-school art built on a trained mind and body, then all Seomun Hwa-rin had was pure strength.
Though each of her movements carried a refined martial intent, what one felt from them was only primal violence.
In the face of that overwhelming violence, Geum-myeong eventually crumbled before long.
Thud!
Struck in the chest, Geum-myeong tumbled backward a long ways, then sprang up with a look of pure satisfaction and pressed his palms together in a bow.
"I thank Seomun Seonim for her teachings."
"…I admit I was a bit flustered at having failed to control my strength properly, but as expected, the Indestructible Vajra Body lives up to its reputation. I too am pleased to have been able to witness the profound martial arts of Shaolin."
Seomun Hwa-rin, who had been flustered at first, soon nodded with satisfaction.
In the end, she had lost to Seomun Hwa-rin, but no one found this strange or shameful.
After all, even if it had not been long since she broke through, Seomun Hwa-rin was a bona fide Harmony Realm martial artist.
Simply having experienced each other's martial arts was more than enough to be satisfied with… a truly textbook sparring bout.
Though I had not experienced it firsthand myself, I took away my own insights from watching Geum-myeong's martial arts.
That the martial arts of the Shaolin Temple were built upon a solid foundation.
There is no martial art where fundamentals are unimportant, but Shaolin's arts placed even greater weight on them.
Because ultimate techniques are, after all, the result of honing fundamentals to their absolute limit.
The opponent I had just sparred with was a rising talent, so his fundamentals were bound to be lacking.
After all, while talent matters in learning the basics, time matters even more.
On the other hand, what Geum-myeong had shown me gave me at least a rough sense of where Shaolin's martial arts—which place such weight on fundamentals—could reach.
I tried to pay attention to such things myself, but I couldn't help feeling that I was still somewhat lacking in that regard.
That was only natural, since I had never properly built up my fundamentals in the first place.
Before my regression, I had learned the sword by throwing myself into real combat headfirst, and in this life, I had focused on reclaiming my former realm.
Of course, even if I were to work on my fundamentals, I wouldn't need to train them to the same extent as the monks of the Shaolin Temple. But then, how much would be enough? And if I was lacking now, just how lacking was I?
Even as I was mulling over these things, I felt a gaze upon me. When I looked up, Gak-myeong was still staring at me with that fierce expression of his.
"Is something the matter?"
"Now that the sparring bout is over, I'd like to continue what we were discussing earlier. …However, would it be alright if we did it here on the training ground?"
"Surely you don't mean—"
"Indeed. Having witnessed something impressive, I find myself a bit stirred. If the Blood Flower Sword Demon would be amenable, I would like to test our skills against one another."
"I would be honored, but… are you certain? Didn't Monk Jeonghyeon only permit a sparring bout between Seomun Hwa-rin senior and one of the Vajra Guardians?"
"Well, to send out someone capable of holding a proper bout, the abbot would have had to step in himself, but the position of abbot carries many burdens, so there was no helping it, was there?"
Having said this, Gak-myeong continued, a simple, honest smile at odds with his fearsome face.
"Surely no one would fault me for stepping forward to spar with the Blood Flower Sword Demon. Even more so when he is a guest of the previous abbot."
"…In that case, I have no reason to refuse."
I rose from my seat, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. Just then, Seomun Hwa-rin, who had been returning from exchanging pleasantries with Geum-myeong, tilted her head curiously.
"You there? Has your respect for this lady grown so much that you would rise to greet me?"
"Huh? Ah, ahem. My respect for Seomun Hwa-rin senior has always been there, but this time it's for a different reason."
"Ahem. …Hmm? A different reason, you say? What might that be?"
As if raising her chin slightly wasn't enough, Seomun Hwa-rin stood on her tiptoes, preening—then paused and blinked.
"I've agreed to a sparring bout with Monk Gak-myeong."
"Huh?"
Seomun Hwa-rin, who had been alternating her gaze between me and Gak-myeong, eventually nodded.
"Well then, this time this lady shall observe your sparring bout."
Saying that, she waved her arms as if to cheer me on. She sometimes shows a rather sneaky side, peeking at the young talents at play… but in the end, she's a good person at heart.
I gave a light bow and took my place on the training ground. Gak-myeong settled himself at a slight distance. As I offered a fist-and-palm salute before the bout, my opponent likewise pressed his palms together in a gesture of respect.
Only after confirming this did I draw my sword and take my stance. Gak-myeong, still in his prayer-like posture, spoke up.
"Before we begin, allow me to continue our earlier conversation."
"Earlier… Ah, you mean the Immovable Wisdom King Step?"
"That is correct. The Blood Flower Sword Demon said the Immovable Wisdom King Step is a symbol of the Shaolin Temple, and that is indeed true, but in fact, the Immovable Wisdom King Step is not a Shaolin martial art."
"What do you mean?"
"It is not just the Immovable Wisdom King Step—most of the Vajra Guardian's martial arts are not Shaolin's. In the distant past, during the era when the temple exchanged with the Potala Palace in Tibet, they received martial arts symbolizing the Five Wisdom Kings, whom the Tibetans revered above all but the Buddha himself, and developed them into what they are today."
"Regardless, the Potala Palace is still Buddhism, is it not? And the Shaolin Temple has spent so long honing those arts that calling them Shaolin martial arts should not be a problem."
"The Prajnaparamita Sutra and the Diamond Sutra are different… Ah. This is too complicated a matter for you, benefactor. Just know that although they belong to the same Buddhist teachings, the sects differ and what they pursue differs."
"I see."
"Indeed. The Vajra Guardian's martial arts trace their origin to the Potala Palace, but… the Potala Palace of today has become quite strange."
"What do you mean by strange?"
"I was asked by the previous Ark Master to visit the Potala Palace, but the monks there were already excessively devoted to Vajrayana. They have abandoned the very duty of a Buddhist disciple—to save all sentient beings and reach enlightenment together—and instead cling to suspicious rituals and mantras said to contain wisdom."
"That sounds like simply a difference of sects, if you ask me."
"The current abbot said the same, and so did the previous abbot. But… but I cannot bring myself to think that way."
Honestly, from my position, it didn't matter to me which side was right, but for someone who had spent his entire life at the Shaolin Temple chasing the Buddha's teachings, it must not have been so simple.
Even among Shaolin's martial arts, which emphasized fundamentals, the Immovable Wisdom King Step did feel somewhat out of place.
And Gak-myeong had trained in both styles and had even visited the place himself, so such differences must have stood out to him all the more.
I nodded along, thinking it was just one of those things—but only for a moment.
The next words out of Gak-myeong's mouth made me flinch.
"Because the Shaolin Temple, too, may change at any moment. Since some point, Shaolin's reputation as a martial sect has been growing louder than its reputation as a temple—don't you agree?"
"Ah."
"Whether this is truly the right thing, I cannot say. Therefore, I wish to ask something of you, Benefactor Blood Flower Sword Demon."
"What is it?"
"Whether it is acceptable for a disciple of the Buddha to be granted this much power… and whether I am repeating the mistakes of the previous abbot."
"…"
Gakjeong, who had grown so accustomed to the Karmic Sin of Killing that he had slain with his own hands a disciple who need not have died.
He feared that he himself—and the Shaolin Temple—might come to be the same.