If You Are The Opponent, I Should Yield. (2)

To close the path that Namgung Do-Wei had firmly opened, the warriors of the Four Sects Alliance gripped their spears and rushed swiftly in front of Hae Yeon.

Swoosh.

Instinctively, Hae Yeon swept the hanging hem of his monk’s robe back.

It was a habit he had done whenever he displayed martial arts since wearing Shaolin’s robe.

Even now, wearing a black robe rather than Shaolin’s saffron, the habit had not disappeared.

It was proof that what he learned and practiced at Shaolin still remained within him.

Thud.

Hae Yeon briefly rooted his stance and thrust his fist into the air three times in succession.

The extremely short and powerful boxing strikes generated gusts that instantly knocked those charging forward away.

“Argh! I really should’ve gone to Shaolin!”

“Shut up!”

Hae Yeon’s face flushed red.

To be honest, he still felt somewhat uncomfortable around those people.

Not because he disliked them.

Because the pace at which they lived and the pace at which Hae Yeon lived were far too different.

“Aaaaaaaah!”

An enemy, eyes flashing with madness, brought his blade down toward Hae Yeon’s front.

Having seen Hae Yeon’s power, they might have fled in fear, but perhaps because they were thoroughly trained, they instead charged forward with venomous intent.

‘It is vain.’

Hae Yeon extended his fist once more.

The golden Buddhist radiance that had gathered around his fist stretched out in an instant and swept away the attackers.

“Aaaaargh!”

With a scream, the body was hurled away as if caught in a raging current.

At first glance it seemed natural he would be a bloody, grisly corpse, but despite the terrible scream, the man’s body showed no significant wounds.

Shaolin’s fist is a fist of mercy.

Life, after all, is but a fleeting moment.

What meaning is there in dividing good and evil within that?

One who is now the kindest may have been an unparalleled villain in a past life, and one who is now the vilest may once have thrown away his life for others.

Therefore, the Buddhist compassion toward sentient beings should not distinguish between the virtuous and the wicked.

The virtuous must receive compassion because they are virtuous, and the wicked must receive even greater compassion because they are wicked.

‘Amitabha.’

But…….

“Die, you bastard!”

At that moment enemies struck in from three sides of Hae Yeon.

In that brief instant Hae Yeon’s feet crossed, and his body rotated half a turn.

Smack! Thud!

Deflecting the incoming spear and swatting aside a broadsword’s side, Hae Yeon thrust his fist into the opponent’s chest.

Thoom! Thoooom!

Arhat Fist. Along with Offense-Defense Fist, it was the origin of Central Plains boxing techniques; this oldest and venerable fist art was reproduced at near perfection at Hae Yeon’s fingertips.

Because Hae Yeon possessed such deep internal power, only the strength of that power tended to stand out.

But that power too began as nothing more than a simple fist.

Only those who master the Arhat can finally wield Buddha Power.

Throooom!

Hae Yeon’s fist crushed the opponent’s chest.

For a moment, a pang of pity flashed across his clear, large eyes.

The man whose chest had caved in spewed blood and collapsed where he stood.

Hae Yeon did not bother to look at him and moved on.

‘Amitabha.’

Is he dead? It was impossible to know.

His fist still held compassion, but it was not deep enough to accommodate and spare even those who charged, determined to die.

Perhaps he had again opened the gate to killing.

Perhaps he had taken another life.

‘Oh Buddha.’

He knew.

Buddha is not an omnipotent being who solves all problems.

Only people can resolve things: people who ponder, seek answers, and suffer in anguish.

But at times like this he truly wanted to ask.

Even if Buddha merely looks down upon us, he attained enlightenment long ago.

So he would know far more than Hae Yeon did.

Is it truly right for a Buddhist, who should not kill, to open the gate to killing in order to save many people?

Is it right for those wearing the monk’s robe to fight others and bring them down?

Is he really walking the right path as a Buddhist now?

“Stop him! By any means necessary, stop him!”

A dozen or so razor-sharp chain sickles flew at Hae Yeon with the intent to shred his entire body to pieces.

If even one of them touched him, the wickedly honed blades would cut his flesh and crush his bones.

But Hae Yeon slowly spread his hands without any sign of urgency.

His left hand settled in front of his lower abdomen, and his right hand unfolded over his right chest.

It was the form of Avalokitesvara. Soon Hae Yeon’s right hand drew countless phantom blades around his body.

Thousand-Hands Avalokitesvara.

The phantom blades formed an image as if the Thousand-Hand Avalokitesvara had spread out a thousand arms at once.

The wall created by the shadow of the phantom blades pushed away, deflected, and gently diverted everything that flew at him.

“What…”

Even those thoroughly trained to slaughter enemies were for a moment stunned by the overwhelming spectacle.

And the golden power that burst through the phantom wall struck their chests without mercy.

“Kraaaah!”

Those struck spat blood from their mouths and were hurled aside, tumbling and rolling.

As Hae Yeon took another step forward, his mind was filled with anguish.

He intoned the Buddhist invocation out of habit.

“Amitabha.”

According to Buddha’s teachings, there is no meaning in dividing good and evil.

But a Buddhist should naturally follow the path of good.

The life we experience is so insignificant it is but a fleeting instant in the wheel of cycles spanning countless eons.

Yet the life at the center of that existence is more precious than anything in the world.

Isn’t this a contradiction?

This is right, and that is right.

Nothing is wrong.

So what should he follow?

What must he uphold?

What should he believe in, what should he rely on, and what should he live for?

‘Amitabha.’

Why did he leave Shaolin, which was almost everything to him, don black clothes that didn’t suit him, and open the gate to killing?

Is the path he is walking truly the one he intended to go down?

“Monk!”

At that moment, a voice burst out from behind, and Hae Yeon clenched his fist.

There was only one answer to all these questions.

‘I am not Buddha.’

Kuuuuung!

Without hesitation, the strike he unleashed pushed the attackers away in an instant.

Those who hold all the answers are called Buddha by the world.

It is because one does not know that one seeks; because one does not know that one struggles and suffers.

So how can one say all this suffering is wrong?

One who does not undergo suffering cannot progress.

Those who turn away from suffering will never attain enlightenment.

What he must do now is accept all this anguish as it is.

It is to see with his own eyes the ‘real world’ he never saw within Shaolin’s narrow fence, and to understand that world for himself.

Thus…

“Aren’t you losing focus, you damn monk?!”

Hae Yeon flinched.

‘Taoist Chung Myung.’

He rooted his stance again and moved forward quickly.

At first he thought he should follow simply because it was right.

At that time Hae Yeon felt disillusioned by Shaolin, twisted so that teaching and action no longer matched.

He thought that person might be able to resolve the pain that came from that.

But living with Chung Myung he learned otherwise.

He realized how the inner world of a person as steadfast as the sun in the sky could be filled with so many tempests.

He worries and worries again.

He drives himself relentlessly, as if abusing himself, and seeks the best answer within it.

He seeks a path not just for himself, but for the sake of many others.

At times that path was twisted, sometimes dogmatic, and sometimes completely wrong.

But Chung Myung does not give up easily; he ponders repeatedly and moves forward again.

‘Does the taoist know?’

That is precisely the path a Buddhist should walk.

It’s something that makes you unable to help but smile.

Chung Myung is a man of the Tao, not truly a Buddhist.

But Chung Myung’s life is like a model of the path a Buddhist should take.

Although his aim differs, his attitude was impossible not to emulate.

“Monk! They’re coming from the front!”

“No, you bastard! Don’t just talk—go out and fight!”

“Me? In front of that person?”

“Or at least shut your mouth!”

“Agreed.”

“That’s sahyung for you, isn’t it.”

A small smile touched Hae Yeon’s lips.

This was probably why Hae Yeon stayed with them.

‘They are not different.’

They, too, were no different from him.

Just as Hae Yeon painfully chased the lofty teachings and great purpose of the Buddha, they too desperately pursued Chung Myung’s lead and the distant goal of Mount Hua’s revival.

Within this group there was a sense of kinship he had not even felt at Shaolin, where they had pursued the Dharma together.

That newfound sense of kinship often comforted Hae Yeon.

When he was here, he was not lonely.

Though his heart was heavy and filled with pain, he could gain the strength to move forward.

‘Abbott.’

Hae Yeon’s right hand touched his flank.

‘Still, am I wrong?’

Goooooo!

His fist was thrown out slowly.

The formidable power laden with internal qi pushed back everyone blocking his path.

Everything he had built swept aside the things that blocked the path he intended to take.

He clearly saw the closed path opening again before his eyes.

The path ahead was a narrow lane.

A gorge full of enemies and wickedness.

Anyone with normal sensibilities would naturally avoid this path.

It was a road one should never set foot on.

But now Hae Yeon was running into that very path of his own accord.

‘Am I really wrong?’

Foolish and naive.

Yet that path is precisely the one a monk should walk.

It is the path of one who voluntarily takes on suffering they could avoid by not thinking, voluntarily subjects themselves to ascetic self-abuse in the name of hardship, and ultimately seeks enlightenment.

Kwang!

Hae Yeon’s foot stamped the ground with force.

Without the slightest hesitation.

Leaping into the narrow gorge, he adopted a half-palm posture.

‘Even if I’m wrong… if it’s a path I must walk, how could I not walk it?’

Thud!

Hae Yeon stepped forward once more.

This might be the first step Hae Yeon had taken since he gained life.

Perhaps it was the first step not taken in pursuit of someone’s teaching or footsteps, but decided and taken by his own thought and judgment without hesitation.

Hae Yeon raised his head.

In the cramped lane, where even light barely reached and the end could not be seen, enemies like hell’s fiends lined the way.

But Hae Yeon’s eyes were clearer and more peaceful than usual.

He was willing to fall exhausted along this path.

‘What regrets could there be?’

If this place was hell, then truly it was where Buddhist Hae Yeon should be.

His entire body was covered in golden light.

It was a solemn Buddhist radiance he had emitted himself.