Murim School Record - Chapter 65

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 65: Let’s Have a Match (2)

His Ki Blood was churning — and for whatever reason, he’d taken a blow from a mere warrior of the Mo Yong Household, not even its master.
On top of that, the shameful secret of his birth that he’d never wanted exposed had been laid bare.
“Woon Hak San.”
“Yes, Master!”
“Enough. Step back now.”
“Then those of us not needed shall withdraw, sir.”
Woon Hak San saluted with the Respectful Fist and turned to leave the chamber.
Cheong Dong Seonsa’s eyes widened.
He was dismissing the man who’d struck his chest, sending him out of the room.
That meant one thing.

‘I shall face you myself.’

Yi Mo Baek spoke in a measured tone.
“Though you are indeed one of the illustrious Four Golden Champions of Shaolin, is not this humble one also the heir apparent of the Murim Alliance’s leadership?”
In other words, a duel between them would hardly bring dishonor upon his rank or standing.
“You… you dare face an old man alone?”
“What more could you ask? I am the master of the Mo Yong Household.”
That should suffice.
It also sounded like a taunt — as if he didn’t believe in the other man’s strength.
“Kehehehehehe.”
Another roaring laugh erupted toward the heavens.
But this time the laughter held a different edge.
The Killing Intent that filled it was so thick and suffocating that even chewing it wouldn’t relieve the frustration.
Nor was it Cheong Dong Seonsa alone.
The remaining three Golden Champions, Cheong Ak Seonsa, and several senior officers all bore expressions of menace.
The Killing Intent was so fierce it seemed as though they might all rush forward at once and tear Yi Mo Baek apart.
The air inside the chamber had grown so hot it felt as though flesh itself would cook.
“Come on.”
Cheong Dong Seonsa erupted forward with a thunderous shout.
Whoosh!
A golden palm descended, and from it burst forth a dragon.
The Great Golden Dragon Mountain Water.
Hissss!
The dragon howled with fierce Killing Intent and tore toward Yi Mo Baek’s chest.
The smile that had filled Yi Mo Baek’s face an instant before vanished entirely.
He’d won the psychological battle.
He’d goaded Cheong Dong Seonsa into a state of extreme agitation — the first phase of his strategy had worked.
But no matter how clever the mind games, they meant nothing without the skill to back them up.
Cheong Dong Seonsa had poured all his power into the Great Golden Dragon Mountain Water.
Exactly what he’d hoped for.
Part of his psychological warfare was also to gauge the martial prowess of the Four Golden Champions against Cheong Dong Seonsa.
Bang!
A fist emerged.
Cold as ice, unyielding as stone.

‘Baekbo Shinquan.’
What more need be said?
It was said to be the finest technique among Bodhidharma’s Seventy-Two Arts.
The greater the technique, the harder it is to master — a truth no martial school escapes — but Baekbo Shinquan was in a class of its own.
The problem was that no one had ever actually seen it in action; knowledge of it existed only through rumor.
Some said the cliff face behind Soshil Peak had been ravaged by Baekbo Shinquan, and others claimed that the unusual depression in the eastern peak of Taeshil Peak was likewise a scar left by the technique.

‘Sambo Hyeol Woo.’

Someone spoke in a trembling voice.
One step and wind rushes forth; two steps and thunder cries out; on the third step blood rains down.
Sambo Hyeol Woo was a single technique within the Baekbo Shinquan.
Snap-snap-snap!
The golden dragon scatters in the wind.
That golden dragon was created by Cheong Dong Seonsa’s inner force.
Such a dragon—struck by wind so powerful it was less like wind and more like razor-sharp blades hurtling down, a cutting wind that carved through the golden form.
Snap-snap.
Cheong Dong Seonsa unleashed a flash of killing intent.
He understood the Baekbo Shinquan to some degree himself.
Though he couldn’t claim to wield it decisively in combat, from his experience, reaching only the Fifth Stage was enough to earn full respect as a peak master of the Martial World—such was the Baekbo Shinquan’s reputation.
Yet he harbored no desire to evade the clash.
No matter how formidable the Baekbo Shinquan, he did not believe the Great Golden Dragon Mountain Water that he had cultivated his entire life would shatter.
Crack!
Fist met palm, and the sound of stone breaking rang out.
Shatter-shatter-shatter!
It fragmented utterly.
Like broken starlight scattered across the night sky, fragments of the dragon whirled through the chamber.
Whoosh!
Yi Mo Baek did not pause.
Cheong Dong Seonsa went ashen in an instant—his Great Golden Dragon Mountain Water, utterly destroyed.
Yi Mo Baek seized that brief moment when Cheong Dong Seonsa, stunned by the impact, faltered without thinking, and rushed forward.
Swish!
The body stretches and elongates.
A body cannot truly elongate.
It was merely a stride so swift it appeared as though the body itself had stretched—yet all who witnessed cried out:
“The…the Bulyeong Bo!”
Cheong Dong Seonsa thrust both palms forward in haste.
But Yi Mo Baek’s fist was faster still.
His fist extended fully, its speed and power already complete and gathering momentum.
Cheong Dong Seonsa, by contrast, had merely thrust his palms forward in panicked defense.
The collision between palms not yet fully formed against a fist already complete and laden with rebound force brought a cold result.
Boom!
There was only a heavy, resounding crash—nothing shattered or vanished.
“Ugh!”
Cheong Dong Seonsa staggered back three paces, his face drained of color.
Watching his throat rise and fall, he seemed to be struggling to swallow the welling Ki Blood.
“If you cannot wield the blade, do not draw it—and if a fight begins, it must be seen through to its end.”
Yi Mo Baek advanced once more.

‘This won’t do.’

As Cheong Nam Seonsa, who had been watching, moved to aid his brother, Cheong Ak Seonsa’s transmission of voice pierced his ear.
“Mm!”
“Ah…Amitabha Buddha!”
Groans and sutras erupted from all around.
To anyone watching, Cheong Dong Seonsa’s movements were noticeably sluggish compared to before.
Battles between masters do not linger.
When both possess such power, they end swiftly and decisively.
Both pour forth every ounce of their strength.
That Cheong Dong Seonsa was being driven back meant one thing: Yi Mo Baek stood above him.
When had Yi Mo Baek trained the Bulyeong Bo?
Cheong Ak Seonsa, who knew something of Yi Mo Baek, found it utterly unbelievable.
He had heard that Yi Mo Baek had mastered the Baekbo Shinquan, but never had he heard he had devoted himself so thoroughly to deploying the Bulyeong Bo with such brilliance.

‘A woodcutter who eats his fill and throws punches all day is worth ten times the ordinary monks.’

Cheong Mong Seonsa had always made excuses for Yi Mo Baek in particular.
But now the reason became clear to him.
His own discernment had been lacking.
Now he understood why the predecessors of Shaolin had praised Cheong Mong Seonsa so lavishly and held him in such high regard.
Tap-tap-tap-tap!
Ilbo Sipkwon.
One step forward, yet the fists strike ten times.
So swift that closing the distance with Bulyeong Bo made the punches pour forth as if invisible.
Crack!
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat!
Cheong Dong Seonsa defended desperately.
First punch.
Second punch…
Third punch…
Everyone watched.
He held firm through the third, but from the fourth punch onward, Cheong Dong Seonsa’s defense began to crumble.
Bang!
Tap-tap-bang~
It shattered like glass.
Screech!
And the final tenth punch struck Cheong Dong Seonsa’s abdomen with brutal force.
Gahhhhh!
Cheong Dong Seonsa’s mouth fell open and blood poured out.
Rather, it was a stream of blood.
Drip-drip-drip!
After one long stream, the flow weakened and fell in drops across his chest.
Thud!
Drip-drip-drip!
Then wind began to blow through the room.
Not wind, truly.
Everyone in the room was a master of absolute peak caliber.
As they released their killing intent at Cheong Dong’s pathetic state, powerful Inner Force surged forth like a torrent.
Yi Mo Baek swallowed hard.
Neither more nor less.
Cheong Dong Seonsa’s martial skill was precisely at the level Yi Mo Baek had judged and anticipated.
Then the martial power of the other great masters of Shaolin was equally foreseeable.
“Ugh!”
His Ki Blood could not help but tremble.
Unlike Cheong Dong Seonsa, who was coughing up blood and losing color, it was a considerable Internal Injury nonetheless.
“What are you doing?”
As the masters of Cheong rank released their momentum, the killing intent grew sharper, tightening around his entire body.
“Let’s do it then. If word gets out that I died to a combined attack from Shaolin’s Cheong-rank masters, those who live will hang their heads in shame while I, though dead, will have my name proclaimed far and wide.”
“Your mouth is far too crude.”
Cheong Buk Seonsa, abbot of Sa Dae Geumangang, spoke.
“Even if we let you live, you would spread word of today’s events to all corners of the earth. Better to ensure you walk with your head bowed in shame.”
Cheong Nam Seonsa, one of Sa Dae Geumangang who had remained silent until now, rushed forward.
“What are you doing, disciple?”
Cheong Nam Seonsa’s dual palms bored in.
He had not failed to anticipate it.
If what had transpired in this room spilled into the world, the humiliation and shame Shaolin would suffer would be beyond measure.
He had made a cautious prediction that not all of them would converge at once.
He had not fully believed it, but held it at fifty-fifty odds—and the former scenario came to pass.
Crash!
Yi Mo Baek did not hesitate, driving his fist forward to meet the palm strike head-on.
Stagger!
Yi Mo Baek’s upper body lurched as though someone had shoved him roughly, and he was driven back a step.
A metallic taste crept up his throat.
When struck, one should retreat and fall accordingly; falling lessens Internal Injury.
But now, with all eyes upon him, he forced himself to stand firm, to appear unharmed—and in doing so, his blood roiled all the more violently within.
Yi Mo Baek grimly swallowed down the blood that threatened to rise.
“Hah! Impressive. Since it appears you’ve decided to take my life, let’s do this properly.”
“Amitabha Buddha… stand down.”
Cheong Ak Seonsa spoke.
“That won’t do. Elder Brother, we must demonstrate Shaolin’s power.”
As Cheong Nam Seonsa moved to attack again, Cheong Ak Seonsa spoke with finality.
“Is there a more foolish thing to do than this?”
Cheong Ak Seonsa’s voice rose.
“Do you still not see that boy’s cunning calculation?”
“Cunning calculation?”
Everyone turned to look at Cheong Ak Seonsa.
“To kill that child, we’d have to wipe out the Mo Yong Household entirely. The patriarch is dead—do you think they’ll sit idle? And that’s not all. What is Shaolin’s standing in the Murim Alliance?”
Some still looked confused, their brows furrowed or eyes narrowed as they studied Cheong Ak Seonsa.
“How much do you think the Murim Alliance’s gaze will fall upon us with favor? They mock us to our faces, saying we’re not the Shaolin of old, and openly raise their voices claiming they’re still the greatest sect under heaven. Do you think there’s just one or two sects that wish for nothing but Shaolin’s ruin? This opportunity might well push Shaolin into the light as a vicious and evil faction.”
“Mm!”
“Ah… Amitabha!”
Someone ground their teeth.
He was right.
Not a word of it was false.
There were countless forces scheming to drag Shaolin even lower.
Look at the Nine Great Sects and One Alliance alone.
Those who once moved cautiously and showed respect, stepping back with deference, now trampled openly.
If word spread that Shaolin’s masters of the Cheong lineage had slain the new patriarch of the Mo Yong Household, they would not let it pass.
It was clear they would deliver a devastating blow from which Shaolin could not recover.
“Then… that bastard calculated all of this?”
Cheong Dong Seonsa, having steadied himself somewhat, asked.
“That’s right.”
“His schemes are despicable.”
He burned with killing intent.
Yet no one could strike.
Even their present state would become a problem.
Cheong Nam Seonsa had joined Cheong Dong Seonsa in lending his strength.
In the end, two of the Four Great Strongmen had unleashed a combined attack.
The Four Great Strongmen had attacked Yi Mo Baek, who had gone to receive certification as the patriarch of the Mo Yong Household from Vice Alliance Master Cheong Ak Seonsa.
This could spiral beyond mere turmoil in the Martial World—something far more terrible might unfold.

‘Shaolin has reached its limit.’
‘What is the Hao School worth?’

The very thought sent shivers through him.
Tremor, tremor.
Cheong Dong Seonsa’s fists shook.
The conclusion was simple: they had fallen into Yi Mo Baek’s scheme.
And they had attacked without even realizing it.
Yi Mo Baek was a man who would never come out on the losing end.
“Go. Why do you linger? Disappear from here at once.”
Cheong Ak Seonsa’s eyes blazed.
Yi Mo Baek performed the Respectful Fist Salute.
“Yi Mo Baek, master of the Mo Yong Household, takes his leave. Vice Alliance Master!”
Yi Mo Baek’s expression as he offered his salute was gentle.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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