Black and White Martial Emperor

This can’t be.

Beomo was shaken to his core.

Grandmaster admitted defeat?!

Of course, even to Beomo’s eyes, his Grandmaster had clearly lost. He simply hadn’t wanted to accept it.

The problem was that his Grandmaster himself had acknowledged it far too readily.

How...

How could he do that?

Doesn’t it frustrate him at all?

His Grandmaster had severed his ties not only with the Buddhist order, but with the secular world as well, and was spending the rest of his life in Foshan.

But bonds were never so easily cut. After speaking with him several times, Beomo had seen that for himself. Though Tamgyeong claimed to have left such ties behind, he had still taken care to guide and encourage the man who would become Shaolin’s next Master of Arhat Hall.

The same was true of martial arts. His Grandmaster had stepped away from them, but that did not mean he had completely severed himself from the martial world.

The martial path. The martial world. Martial arts.

Once someone had lived in that world, they could never truly escape it. The same was true of every elder in Foshan.

And yet Tamgyeong had accepted defeat so easily?

He obviously held back. If even I could see it, Supreme Commander Yeon must know it too.

That was why Yeon Hojeong had said what he had. If Tamgyeong had fought seriously from the first exchange, the result would never have been the same.

But his Grandmaster’s response had been shocking.

Whether I was serious or careless, the result is still the result.

A chill ran through Beomo.

The result is still the result...

The strongest Master of Arhat Hall in Shaolin’s history. A symbol of chivalrous righteousness who had subdued and defeated more villains than any other holder of that position.

A peerless master whose fiery temper and ferocious competitive spirit had made him an object of both reverence and fear among every warrior monk of Shaolin in his day.

And that man had accepted his defeat without the slightest hesitation.

At the hands of someone far younger and weaker than himself.

What in the world changed Grandmaster this much?

Beomo had never actually witnessed Tamgyeong in his prime. He had seen his face, but never watched him in action.

Yet there were things one could understand without seeing them firsthand.

Beomo felt a kinship with Tamgyeong. Not simply because they both came from Shaolin, but because their temperaments were alike.

Tamgyeong must have been the same. His competitive spirit had surely been stronger than anyone’s, and his talent equally exceptional. Which meant the anguish he felt when his growth stalled must have been just as great.

And...

...Just like me, there must have been someone around him who made him realize it.

The martial world was the wild.

And in the wild, there was no such thing as playing around. A deer would never dream of playing a prank on a tiger. The instant it did, it would die.

That was the wild. The law of nature.

To live out a full and magnificent life, one had to face every moment, every day, with absolute sincerity. Even then, few beasts ever lived long enough to die of old age.

Then what of the martial world?

I held back. I was only testing you. I was joking. I was being courteous...

Beomo’s eyes trembled.

They’re nothing but excuses. Worse than idle jokes.

In a spar, one might at least have the chance to learn something afterward. But in a duel to the death, one died without ever getting the chance to offer a single excuse.

There was no opportunity to protest.

That was life.

That was the martial world.

When victory and defeat were at stake, excuses were nothing but impurities.

Beomo had already taken that truth deep into his heart on the journey to Guangdong. There should have been nothing shocking about being reminded of it now.

And yet Tamgyeong’s attitude struck him with tremendous force.

He’s different.

Tamgyeong.

Grandmaster.

Gakryo.

The same person, and yet entirely different men.

Gakryo, the warrior monk of Shaolin, was a wrathful Wisdom King feared by all. The Grandmaster of today’s Shaolin is simply a kindly old man. Tamgyeong, the leader of Foshan, is a sage burning away what remains of his life for a single purpose—and he will remain so.

Tears slid down Beomo’s cheeks.

Why?

If this, too, was a moment of realization, then for some reason it brought tears with it.

I was never supposed to imitate him.

If you meet the Buddha, kill the Buddha.

I already knew that. So why was I always trying to become like someone else?

It was right to look at another person’s conduct and reflect upon oneself.

But if one decided that everything about another person was correct merely because of that person’s stature, and then tried to imitate it wholesale, that was impure.

The answer was already inside me. Whether it is martial arts, the self, or faith in the Buddha, nothing begins until I take the first step myself.

WOOOOONG.

Golden True Qi surged from Beomo’s body once again.

Its light was far subtler than before. So faint that one might not even notice it without looking closely.

But once perceived, its auspicious presence was enough to calm the heart of anyone who witnessed it.

This was not an enlightenment of martial arts.

It was an enlightenment of the man himself.

Deep within Beomo’s heart, the clear core formed from his five desires and seven emotions cracked with a brittle snap.

WHOOOONG.

The Mahayana Brahma Divine Art stirred.

The gentle yet powerful demon-subduing True Qi within him began compressing to an extraordinary degree.

Shaolin martial arts were arts of enlightenment.

The deeper one’s Buddhist faith, the greater both the quality and quantity of qi one could cultivate. And the closer one came to higher truths, the more the power of the martial art itself transformed.

That was what made Shaolin martial arts great.

One who desired power first had to become worthy of it.

Only someone with such worth could grasp tremendous strength without twisting it toward evil.

In other words, Beomo had stood on the very threshold of the Wall of Martial Arts despite possessing neither deeper Buddhist faith than other monks nor any greater pursuit of profound truth.

And now, at last, as a warrior monk who had truly learned martial arts, he began to take flight.

DONG. DONG. DONG...

The muted tolling of a Buddhist temple bell echoed through the air.

The Inner Qi of the Mahayana Brahma Divine Art was transforming into True Qi imbued with the wisdom to perceive the truth of the Mahayana Dharma.

A martial art founded entirely upon enlightenment.

An absolute martial art that could never be mastered merely by memorizing its cultivation passages and formulas.

One of Shaolin’s greatest divine arts, and one of its Two Great Powers.

The Great Power of Prajna was changing Beomo’s True Qi from its very roots.

“Not his disciple?”

What was that supposed to mean now?

Tamgyeong smiled.

“That wording leaves room for misunderstanding. To be precise, I suspect your master and the man I knew are indeed the same person. But the mysterious man I met and the mysterious man who taught you seem to have been very different.”

“That sounds like wordplay. You’re still saying they were the same man.”

“Does sharing the same shell make two people the same? If a man’s spirit and understanding have changed, then one cannot truly call him the same person.”

Tamgyeong turned toward Beomo.

“Just look at that child.”

Yeon Hojeong’s gaze followed.

WHOOOONG.

Even from this distance, the True Qi drifting from Beomo seemed to seep all the way into his bones.

Its depth was astonishing.

Not because it felt overwhelmingly strong or domineering. Simply being in its presence made one instinctively solemn.

Like Venerable Gonggong.

It was different from Gonggong’s power, yet possessed a similar quality.

And that power was now carrying Beomo into a new realm.

“Not the Supreme, but Prajna. Impressive. People in the martial world often say Shaolin’s strongest martial art is the Supreme Great Power. They are wrong. The Great Power of Prajna is in no way inferior to it. The fact that this child awakened Prajna despite his natural temperament proves that he never stopped pursuing wisdom. The Supreme is more worldly than Prajna, you see.”

Tamgyeong nodded.

“And so another man capable of becoming the pillar of Shaolin in this age—and Master of Arhat Hall—has been born.”

“...”

“Tell me. Is the Beomo you knew the same man as the Beomo standing there now?”

Yeon Hojeong could not bring himself to say that he was.

Tamgyeong’s smile deepened.

“The mysterious man I knew possessed eyes that could not merely unravel Shaolin martial arts at a glance, but dissect the very principles of martial arts themselves. In that sense, he was like the Great Power of Prajna. He knew how to make an opponent withdraw without ever needing to raise a hand.”

“...”

“But you are different. Your Four Spirit Martial Art is closer to the Supreme than to Prajna. You cannot pierce straight through every principle at a glance, but you are faster and stronger, and the final result of your martial art is fixed upon your own survival and your enemy’s death.”

“That only means we are different people.”

“Precisely. And because the people are different, their martial arts must differ as well. Having seen your art, I understand now. The Four Spirit Martial Art clearly possesses defined form paths, but those paths are merely near-perfect examples. What matters most is how the one who has cultivated the Four Spirits manifests the art in any given situation.”

The words struck directly at the essence of the Four Spirit Martial Art.

Yeon could swear that no one had ever discerned that much after exchanging blows with him only once.

A renewed look of respect entered his eyes as he regarded Tamgyeong.

“In other words, the Four Spirit Martial Art values spirit more than shape or prescribed form. Sensitivity and experience can be accumulated alone, but depending on how the art is transmitted, the successor’s temperament and the way the martial art manifests will both change.”

“I...”

“Of course, I know little about the Four Spirit Martial Art itself. I am merely telling you what I sensed. And judging from your martial arts, you have not simply copied your master’s teachings. You have made them completely your own.”

“...”

“Still, I believe it is undeniable that your master’s teachings played a major role in shaping the form your martial arts have taken today.”

Yeon Hojeong listened in silence, then tossed out a question.

“You said you don’t know where my master is?”

“I do not. As I told you, if I knew, I would never have made such an unreasonable request of you.”

“Then there is only one thing left between us. Whether the man you knew and my master are truly the same person can wait until later.”

“Mm.”

WHOOOONG! TAK!

Yeon pulled the Black-White Twin Dragon Axes into his hands through telekinetic force and hooked them at his waist.

“What do you want to see and learn from my Four Spirits?”

“So you mean to finish our bargain.”

“I do.”

“Very well. Then I shall tell you.”

Tamgyeong drew in a quiet breath.

He actually looked tense.

No matter how old he had become, this was something he had pursued for a very long time, and there was now a chance that at least part of it might finally be resolved.

Before such a possibility, age, experience, and wisdom meant nothing.

“You said before, did you not? That if I wished, you could even teach me the cultivation passages and formulas of the Four Spirits.”

“You interpreted my words rather generously.”

“Ha ha. But do not worry. I have no need for the cultivation passages or formulas of the Four Spirit Martial Art.”

“Then what do you want to know?”

“A formula that belongs to the Four Spirits without itself being one of the Four Spirits.”

“...?”

“You know of a martial art that is unquestionably part of the Four Spirit Martial Art, yet is not bound by the Four Spirit Martial Art itself. To be exact, calling it a martial art may be inaccurate. It is closer to a path that must be reached through enlightenment.”

“What are you...?”

“I learned of it by chance. When the Four Spirits reach their utmost extreme, and the soul of the Martial Commander of the Four Spirits is fully prepared, another world opens before them.”

“...?!”

“A martial art unmistakably born of the Four Spirit Martial Art, yet transcending it. An invincible realm in which only the cultivation passage remains and no formula survives—one that, like the Great Power of Prajna, can be reached through enlightenment alone.”

“...!!”

Shock spread across Yeon Hojeong’s face.

Tamgyeong spoke, his expression dark.

“So you do know. Then forgive me. I realize how unreasonable a request this is.”

“...”

“Yes. There is only one thing I wish to ask of you.”

“The cultivation passage concerning the Yellow Dragon.”