The Lightning I Harbor Is Too Strong - Chapter 29
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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 29
Shaolin stands ever steadfast, like Mount Taishan itself.
It means that no particular incidents occur, and life continues in the same peaceful rhythm.
Perhaps it is a life somewhat lacking in excitement.
One might say it holds little meaning for the practitioners seeking the Buddha within themselves.
Yet the young martial monks—who are Buddhist Disciples and Martial Monks at once, whose blood still runs hotter than their Buddhist Spirit—often reacted with keen sensitivity to external stimuli.
For instance, rumors that had recently reached their ears.
“I heard that Deokryeong was showing some unknown youth around the other day, and yesterday Deokgwang did the same?”
The heads of Jang Gyeong Pavilion and Dharma Hall were wandering through Shaolin with a young man none of them knew.
He stayed right beside them, and they introduced the Dharma Hall and Jang Gyeong Pavilion with the utmost devotion.
It was the first time anyone had seen Deokgwang smile so radiantly…and so on.
Such provocative rumors subtly unsettled Mujin’s mind.
“……Tsk. Since when did these two seniors have so much leisure time?”
“No, I saw it with my own eyes!”
Mujin did not want to believe the disciple’s excited words.
Deokryeong and Deokgwang.
They were respectively the heads of Jang Gyeong Pavilion and Dharma Hall.
Not Deokwon, the head of Hyangkaektang—but that these two leaders of the very pillars of Shaolin’s martial arts would take turns escorting a single youth of their own generation…that was difficult to accept.
‘It’s not as if the boy were a prince.’
Mujin clicked his tongue again and spoke.
“If you had time for idle gossip, you’d be better served training, Muyeon. Is this the frame of mind with which you speak of Cheonmu Academy?”
“No, I was just—”
“Words alone won’t do. Come now, before today’s sparring, let me see your form. Step forward.”
“Ah—!”
As Mujin strode toward the center of the Training Ground, a young man came running from the distance.
“Wait! That person, today they’re with the head of the Arhat…wait, why is the mood like this?”
“Come here and take your stance too, Museong. You’ll watch alongside Muyeon.”
“Yes, yes—?”
Museong, whose faint eyebrows gave his face a diffuse expression, proceeded to unfold the Arhat Fist beside Muyeon.
Huff, huff!
Ugh!
“Pathetic. If you’d applied yourself to training instead of wasting breath on gossip, it might have been better.”
Watching the two breathe heavily, Mujin continued his relentless criticism.
“It is a shameful achievement for disciples of Shaolin. That even the most basic martial arts are like this.”
“Mujin, surely your words are a bit—”
These were disciples of the Mu generation who each fulfilled their assigned duties and gathered together at this one time to train. All of them were sincere in their self-cultivation.
As the atmosphere grew tense at Mujin’s words, Muyeong, Mujin’s senior, quickly intervened.
“Now, now! Let’s just rest for a moment and start again. You two, go cool off over there. All right? Mujin, come here for a moment and talk with me!”
He placed a good-natured smile on his face and patted Mujin’s shoulder.
“So, how have you decided to enter Cheonmu Academy? I heard an emissary from the Jeongdo Uicheonmaeng came. Will you travel with them?”
“I refused, of course. Master Beomcheon left without even accepting Shaolin’s support, and out of respect for that resolve, there is no reason for me to travel with the alliance’s representatives when I am not even his direct disciple.”
“……He was only asking you to travel together to Sinyang. Did you really need to read so much into it?”
“Because you show such a lenient attitude, don’t you see how slack the disciples have become?”
Mujin continued, saying that he would personally take responsibility during today’s sparring to restore the disciples’ focus.
……
Cough.
Eventually, the atmosphere turned cold again.
As even Muyeong found nothing to say and smiled awkwardly, Mujin turned away from them and began to unfold the Arhat Fist alone.
‘There is no time to concern myself with baseless rumors. Cheonmu Academy is where the most talented gather in the Jeongdo Murim. Shaolin’s name will always stand at the highest peak.’
* * *
‘I’ll just see it with my own eyes and decide. Really, what on earth is this Cheonmu Academy—!’
In the moment he frowned sharply, a faint golden light flashed overhead.
Jeong Ishin forced the thoughts away and pushed hard off his toes.
Whoosh!
A large form plummeted into the space he had vacated like a beam of light.
Over the taut yellow robes, rippling energy suddenly converged toward his arms.
Jeong Ishin, having retreated, likewise drew up the True Qi from his Dantian and channeled it through the Incantation.
‘Breaking steel not through force but through the original power.’
Boom—
Warm amber-colored True Qi rose and wrapped around his hands.
A deep boom!
The moment a powerful rebound force erupted in his palm, Jeong Ishin thrust his hand outward.
The monk facing him did the same.
“Heeeeeah!!!”
“Hup!”
The two palms stopped, separated by barely an inch.
They never touched, and yet they collided.
And then, a moment later—
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!
A tingling wave of energy erupted with a sound that echoed as if from the depths of a vast cavern.
The low, heavy resonance continued until the simple-eyed monk across from Jeong Ishin withdrew his hands.
“…Namo Amitabha Buddha.”
The one who pressed his palms together with a trembling voice was Deokin, master of the Daeryeok Geumgang Technique.
Though he was the largest among the elder monks of the Deok generation, he was equally renowned for his gentle, honest appearance—a true Martial Monk.
Deokin grasped Jeong Ishin’s hand firmly.
While Jeong Ishin’s hand trembled uncontrollably from the aftermath of that single exchange, Deokin’s remained steady and unmarred.
“How! How! Truly this is great strength! Truly the Daeryeok Geumgang Technique…!”
“Yes, you possess the Daeryeok Geumgang Technique, don’t you?”
“Ahhhhh…! My child, how did you come by this cultivation in Shaolin’s embrace…! Anguish!”
His voice, growing steadily moist, finally trembled with tears.
Jeong Ishin, who had been trying to lighten the mood with a light joke, found himself flustered.
‘…Again?’
The massive man wept thick tears that rolled down his face.
“Please, please compose yourself, venerable monk.”
“Wahhhhh!”
In fact, this was mild compared to before.
Jeong Ishin, having decided to see the Cheonmu Academy with his own eyes before deciding his next path, had handed over the secret manuals he had compiled to Shaolin.
Deokin’s reaction at that time had been far more intense.
Difficult as it was to believe, Deokin of the Daeryeok Geumgang had not known the Daeryeok Geumgang Technique.
Shamefully, it was one of the arts lost in the chaos of the Jeongdo Murim War and through the dispersal of many masters.
“At last…this humble monk has truly become one with Geumgang.”
“But you were already a Geumgang master beyond reproach.”
“……”
“Venerable monk?”
“Wahhhhh…!”
* * *
As it turned out, most of the martial arts Jeong Ishin had brought were techniques lost within Shaolin.
Which meant Shaolin had encountered a stroke of fortune beyond measure.
It was somewhat different from when the Yeugeun Sesu Sutra had returned.
The Yeugeun Sesu Sutra was certainly Shaolin’s foremost art, but its infamy was equally supreme.
Remarkably, while the incantation for the technique itself had been lost, only a record warning against easy entry remained.
‘And that record was written in blood.’
Such was Musang’s addition.
Because the record endured and those who remembered it lived on, no one took up the returned Yeugeun Sesu Sutra.
But what of these newly revealed arts?
The Yeorae Sinjang, the Baekbo Sinquon, the Daebanya Geumgang Gong, the Daeryeok Geumgang Technique, and others.
For these past months, the elders had been intoxicated with the recovered ancient teachings and would not let Jeong Ishin leave their side.
“The Daeryeok Geumgang Technique’s power feels stronger in my cultivation, yet in truth your execution is the more formidable, Deokin.”
“Hmm…the volume of power follows one’s mastery, I think. But since this art is founded on raw strength, perhaps I am not drawing out its full potential.”
Such was Deokin, who had finally obtained the Daeryeok Geumgang Technique.
“Ha, so this is how the complete Baekbo Sinquon was structured. I did not think the restoration was perfect, yet the difference is so vast!”
Such was the Keeper of the Jang Gyeong Pavilion, who had extracted every old text from the pavilion to examine them.
“Hmm? My child, I learned the Honwon Palm, not the Yeorae Sinjang…”
Even the Keeper of the Dharma Hall had expressed a peculiar sense of grievance.
By the time Jeong Ishin had given everything he had inherited from Gongheon into Shaolin’s care—
The day arrived to depart for the Cheonmu Academy.
* * *
“You must grow stronger.”
Before leaving Shaolin, he encountered Musang.
He regarded Jeong Ishin always with the same calm, serene gaze.
“When you reach Cheonmu Academy, you’ll find your own answer.”
“Yes, that’s what this path is for.”
“Whether that answer means driving Jegal Gicheon’s name into the depths of Jungyeon, destroying Cheonmu Academy itself, or even…… slaying the Heavenly Demon.”
Musang was the one person in the current martial world who could empathize most deeply with the aspirations Jeong Ishin harbored.
That was why he had revealed that Jeong Ishin’s path led to Cheonmu Academy.
In this martial world, the most primitive means of achieving one’s goals ultimately came down to strength.
“Beyond reaching the truth, Cheonmu Academy is a good opportunity for you. What you need isn’t a new martial art—it’s experience.”
“Experience…….”
“Child, how narrow your world still is. The mental image taking root in your heart cannot transcend the boundaries of your world. That is why your second Dharma Wheel remains incomplete.”
“…….”
“See more. Experience more.”
That, too, was the Way of Martial Arts.
Musang’s final words reached Jeong Ishin not as a voice, but on the wind itself.
“……Ah.”
When consciousness returned, he was already climbing the slope beneath Baekyun Hermitage.
The same vista unfolded as when he had first set foot in Shaolin with Deokryeong.
Jeong Ishin bowed deeply toward Baekyun Hermitage, pouring all his sincerity into the gesture.
“Thank you so much.”
There was no need to enumerate what he was grateful for.
His safe arrival at Shaolin itself had been arranged by Musang.
“If things go wrong…… I’ll tear it all down and return……!”
The realization that not all farewells in this world were sorrowful brought laughter unbidden to his lips.
A parting that promised reunion seemed to lighten both heart and footsteps.
It was the moment he rose to his feet.
“……Tch.”
“Oh! Why did you come down……?”
Musang, whom he had just parted from, stood with a furrowed brow. A clear flicker of irritation rippled across eyes that had been serene.
He clicked his tongue in evident exasperation and tossed something to Jeong Ishin.
“Huh!”
Chirp!
Whoosh—
What nestled happily in his embrace were O-seo and Mungrin, vanished from memory until this very moment.
He caught the squirming creatures, and when he looked up, Musang had already vanished.
“……?”
So it was truly over.
Jeong Ishin made an awkward Fist Salute and turned away. He did not look back again.
As he descended Songshan, Jeong Ishin lifted O-seo into the air.
Chirp!
The cheeks caught between his thumb and forefinger were decidedly plump.
“You said you were leaving today—where on earth did you sneak off to? And why are your cheeks so puffed out? Hmm? Mungrin, what did you swallow this time……!”
The two creatures remained silent despite Jeong Ishin’s interrogation.
They simply swallowed whatever they held in their jaws without comment.
O-seo’s fur had grown so plump with fat that it gleamed as if oiled, while Mungrin’s belly bulged obscenely.
“A chubby flying squirrel is fine enough. You can always diet. But you…….”
Mungrin was at most a snake as thin as a little finger.
Yet somehow that serpent’s belly could accommodate things vastly larger than its own body, swallowing them with abandon.
He had witnessed the sight of a boa swallowing an elephant more than once.
It was the same now. Whatever it had devoured, its body was so distended it seemed ready to burst.
“……But it seems to manage digestion well enough.”
Glurp—
Right on cue, Mungrin’s small jaws gaped open.
With a peculiar sound, the bloated belly suddenly collapsed inward.
Even as a Spirit Beast, there was not a single normal thing about the creature, search as one might.
The two beasts, blinking their eyes, soon found their familiar places as if irritated.
The ease with which O-seo burrowed into his breast and Mungrin coiled about his wrist was second nature.
“……Sigh.”
Thus Jeong Ishin arrived at the meeting place with a weary exhale.
“Ah, you’ve come, Master Jeong.”
A young martial monk, a small bundle slung across his shoulders, bowed lightly just outside the monastery gates.
An enormous frame, with musculature so pronounced even beneath his robes that its contours were unmistakable.
Sharp eyes flickering with unmistakable displeasure, his close-cropped hair bristling with it.
Yet the discontent didn’t spread across his entire face, which meant he was suppressing his emotions.
‘Just from looking at him, you can tell he’s from Shaolin.’
Mujin.
A martial monk the same age as him, someone Deokryeong had mentioned countless times.
They’d first met just days ago through the abbot’s introduction, and from that moment on, his expression had been consistently this sullen.
For Jeong Ishin, it was an infuriating position to be in.
‘If your opponent dislikes you for no reason, give him a reason to.’
Dang Mujeong’s teaching flickered across his mind for a moment, but Jeong Ishin deliberately shook his head.
“Jeong Ishin?”
“Ah, my apologies. I hope you’ve been well?”
“I’ve managed without incident. I simply practice diligently every day.”
His clipped manner of speaking, unbecoming for his age, must have been an expression of his displeasure toward him.
Yet Jeong Ishin didn’t dislike Mujin.
His frame reminded him of Gongheon, which he found endearing, and there was something uniquely precious about this first ‘junior disciple,’ however premature the title.
‘Perhaps I shouldn’t call him that yet. Once we grow closer, then I should.’
Of course, growing closer doesn’t necessarily make someone your junior disciple. Jeong Ishin knew this well enough.
But Shaolin was already family!
Why else could the Master of Daeryeok weep before the Daeryeok Geumgang Technique, the keeper of Jang Gyeong Pavilion cry out in the Baekbo Sinquon, and the abbot himself fall completely for the Daebanya Geumgang Gong?
Because they were family!
Compared to that, something as trivial as a title hardly mattered at all.
“Why do you hesitate? Surely you’re not struggling already?”
So he could simply smile and let the junior disciple’s playful provocation pass.
“Hah.”
For now.
The tribulation I carry within is far too great.
Author |
Usanyou
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(Inc.) Samyang C&C
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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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