So He’s Coming, I See. (3)

“…When practicing the Perfection of Wisdom, one perceives that the five aggregates are all empty and is delivered from all suffering and distress.”

The sound of sutra chanting echoed through the quiet room.

Beop Jeong, who had been reciting the Heart Sutra with half-closed eyes, slowly quieted his voice.

“…freed from all suffering and distress…”

Beop Jeong’s eyes slowly closed.

“Endure all suffering…”

The Heart Sutra: a roughly 260-character mantra that condenses the essence of the Prajnaparamita scriptures brought back by the Tang monk Xuanzang in some six hundred scrolls.

It is chanted countless times because it contains the essence of ‘emptiness’, yet precisely because of its weight it is also often taken for granted.

But recently Beop Jeong had once again been realizing the true meaning contained in the Heart Sutra.

“You see as much as you know… and you are opened as much as your earnestness.”

Clack.

The prayer bead in Beop Jeong’s hand gave a clear sound.

The world is full of suffering, and a Buddhist is one who endures all that suffering. So whoever is not prepared to walk a path of thorns should not call themselves a Buddhist.

The Other Shore is not beyond a turned head; it comes only to those who endure and persevere.

The river of suffering he is crossing now is merely the ascetic ordeal a Buddhist must naturally endure. So endure and endure again. Then in the end…

But sadly his true patience could not hold on.

“Abbott.”

At the voice, Beop Jeong opened his half-closed eyes and looked at the person before him.

His disciple, Beop Gye, was looking at him with a stern face.

“Are you really going to leave it as it is?”

A small sigh escaped Beop Jeong’s lips. He was frustrated by the disciple who kept clutching at a matter already settled.

“Did I not say so?”

“But, Abbott.”

Beop Gye sighed and then spoke again.

“Of course I do not agree with the methods of the Mount Hua’s Sword Saint either. He is extremely arbitrary and vicious.”

Beop Gye pictured the Mount Hua’s Sword Saint in his mind. Certainly, to them he was someone they could not possibly cooperate with.

“But it is an undeniable fact that he has done much for the people of the world. Judging by his abilities, losing him now would be a great loss, would it not?”

Beop Jeong only stared silently without answering. Beop Gye glanced around furtively and spoke again.

“Even if he is the Mount Hua’s Sword Saint, the opponent is that Jang Ilso. The Heavenly Friends Alliance’s strength alone cannot save him. But if we lend our strength…”

“It’s a finished matter.”

“Abbott.”

Beop Gye bit his lip slightly.

“Abbott, why are you so wary of him?”

Beop Jeong’s eyebrow twitched for a moment.

“You say I’m ‘wary’?”

“Yes, Abbott. I also know the Mount Hua’s Sword Saint is not someone to be defended blindly. But… I cannot help but think you treat him differently than others.”

“…”

“Aren’t you the one who said that even if the opponent is an evildoer, one must not abandon a grain of mercy and the will to inspire?”

“…”

“But the Mount Hua’s Sword Saint is not even a villain. Though his methods differ, isn’t it true that he too walks the righteous path? To face the Four Sects Alliance and the Demonic Cult, we cannot lose him, the pivot of the Heavenly Friends Alliance…”

“Beop Gye.”

For a moment Beop Gye flinched and could not continue; Beop Jeong’s voice was chillingly cold.

“What would you do if someone carried the wood and threw themselves into the fire?”

“Well…”

“I would try to save him.”

“…”

“But one cannot save someone who pours oil on people and sets them aflame. Saving that one would be to cast many others into suffering.”

“Abbott…”

“The Buddha showed compassion to all things, but did not show leniency to Mara, who deludes people.”

“Are you saying he is Mara?”

Beop Jeong shook his head.

“Not exactly. Mara is an entity filled with the will to harm people, but he would at least be someone who believes himself to be righteous. That is why he could run toward the fire without the slightest hesitation.”

“…”

“But regardless of intent, if the act produces results indistinguishable from Mara’s, then even showing mercy to him would be folly.”

A deep sigh escaped Beop Gye.

‘How did it come to this…’

He too was not without resentment toward the Mount Hua’s Sword Saint. He had thought many times that if the Mount Hua’s Sword Saint had bent even once, the world could have been much more peaceful.

But if they hoped the Mount Hua’s Sword Saint would yield, could not Shaolin have chosen the same?

Could Shaolin, not Mount Hua, have been the first to respect and understand their wishes?

‘He is someone who believes only in his own correctness.’

But isn’t that also true of Shaolin?

Beop Jeong’s face showed no change. Sometimes stern, sometimes gentle, it was the same face that held deep insight as before.

Yet Beop Gye could not shake the feeling that Beop Jeong had changed slightly. It was hard to pinpoint what, but he was certainly not the Beop Jeong he had known before.

“Let’s end this conversation here.”

“Abbott…”

In the end Beop Gye bowed his head.

No matter what was said, Beop Jeong would not change his mind. Even knowing that, regrets lingered—perhaps the vain hope that everything could be turned back and the right path found.

“Abbott, if…”

It was the moment Beop Gye, unable to cast off his last regret, opened his mouth again.

“Abbott! Abbott, are you inside?”

An urgent voice called from outside the door. Beop Gye turned reflexively and shouted quickly.

“What is it?!”

“Jang Ilso’s trail has been picked up again!”

“Come in at once!”

Beop Gye, eyes wide, sprang up as if waiting were a waste and flung the door open.

Then Hae Jong, who had been outside, hurried in.

“I have come to see the Abbott.”

“Enough of the formalities. You say his trail was found?”

“Yes! It’s a dispatch from the Beggars’ Union!”

“Tell me.”

“The Beggars’ Union reports that beggars hastily deployed to the Southern Land discovered a large movement of warriors. It was too dangerous to approach, but there was a splendid four-horse carriage drawn by four white horses, figures in white robes as if escorting it, and martial men dressed in deep crimson…”

“It’s the Hegemony Lord.”

Beop Jeong declared.

Of course, not everyone who rides a splendid four-horse carriage is Jang Ilso. But only one person in the world could ride a carriage guarded by the Ten Thousand People Clan’s elites and accompanied by the red hounds.

“Yes! The Beggars’ Union is that certain. And many warriors of the Four Sects Alliance are following behind.”

Beop Jeong’s eyes sank deeply.

“How many are there?”

“They say roughly two thousand…”

“Heh…”

Beop Jeong gave an incredulous chuckle and shook his head.

Two thousand…?

“The Hegemony Lord has resolutely made up his mind.”

At that strength, not just the Mount Hua’s Sword Saint but several respectable sects could be wiped away without a trace. Those in the Southern Land would struggle even against Jang Ilso alone; with two thousand elites guarding him, the outcome would be as plain as seeing fire.

Beop Jeong asked Beop Gye.

“What do you think?”

“…”

“Is the Mount Hua’s Sword Saint you imagine worth saving even if it means waging war against the two thousand elites of the Four Sects Alliance? Is that one life more precious than the over a thousand lives that would be sacrificed in such a war?”

“Abbott, I…”

“If he could be saved without damage, I too would not have hesitated. But this is not a matter for hesitation.”

Beop Gye could not speak and lowered his head. He had never imagined that Jang Ilso would mobilize such forces to face them.

If what they see is two thousand, how many are actually on the move? It’s impossible to even guess, isn’t it?

“Why to this extent…”

“He cannot be allowed to go alive.”

Beop Jeong shook his head.

“One cannot say that the choice to cross the Southern lands was necessarily wrong. I did not expect it either, so perhaps even that Hegemony Lord was taken by surprise.”

“…”

“But precisely because of that, the Hegemony Lord had no choice but to move.”

“Why…?”

“Because defeat is not permitted for the Hegemony Lord.”

Beop Jeong’s voice was colder than usual.

“For the Hegemony Lord to conquer Northern lands, he needs the absolute loyalty of the entire Four Sects Alliance. He must be able to command them like limbs. But the Evil Sect are not people who pledge loyalty to someone by nature. What made this impossible thing possible was none other than the Hegemony Lord’s absolute status—the myth that he never loses.”

Beop Gye nodded.

He seemed to understand.

Jang Ilso was the one who brought victory to the Evil Sect, long oppressed by the Justice faction. He even toyed with that Justice faction and gradually crushed it, did he not?

That is why the desire-filled Evil Sect pledged loyalty without complaint: he promised greater victories and more gain.

“But absolute status is like fragile glass; it can collapse with a single defeat or misstep. At a time when one must discipline the Four Sects Alliance and rally the entire Evil Sect to strike the Southern Land, what would happen if the Heavenly Friends Alliance’s Mount Hua’s Sword Saint led the Southern Island and cut through the Southern lands?”

“Ah…”

The myth of Jang Ilso’s inevitable victory would collapse in that moment. Then the number of those who view the ensuing war with the Justice faction skeptically would rapidly increase.

When intense heat cools, a chill greater than usual is bound to follow.

“Do you understand? If he had fled, we would not have pursued. We might even have let him go and he could have schemed strife between us. But…”

“I cannot let my inner chamber be trampled by filthy feet…”

“Yes. That’s it.”

Beop Jeong said calmly.

“I do not know why the Mount Hua’s Sword Saint committed such a foolish act, but he will never set foot on the Northern Lands alive—even if we intervene.”

Beop Gye squeezed his eyes shut.

‘It was a thought without meaning from the start.’

Now that that Hegemony Lord had so firmly made up his mind, the outcome was almost decided.

Seeing Beop Gye’s sullen expression, Beop Jeong clicked his tongue shortly. A strange pity also seeped into his chest.

‘Mount Hua’s Sword Saint…’

Why make such a foolish choice? I foresaw that arrogance would tighten around your neck, but I did not imagine such an ending.

‘It’s a bit excessive.’

He must be killed, yes, but two thousand… The Hegemony Lord is hardly the faint-hearted type.

“So where are they now?”

“The last place his trail was found was east of Jin county.”

“Jin County?”

“A small village at the southernmost part of Payang Lake.”

“I see.”

Beop Jeong, about to nod as if it were of little consequence, paused for a moment.

“…What did you just say?”

“Yes?”

“You said east?”

“Y-yes… that’s right.”

Beop Jeong’s eyes were shaken violently for a moment.

The southern part of Payang Lake—nothing strange about that. To encircle the Mount Hua’s Sword Saint they’d naturally move south.

But why was the spot east of Jin County rather than south? They would have no reason to move east, would they?

“Did the information sent by the Beggars’ Union say where they were heading?”

“I-I didn’t hear that far, but their direction of movement was certainly…”

Hae Jong, as if wringing his memory, was silent for a moment, then let out a cry and raised his head.

“Southeast! It was east!”

Beop Jeong opened his eyes wide, bit his lip hard, and then spoke.

“…Confirm it again.”

“Yes?”

“Go to the Beggars’ Union immediately and have them determine their direction of movement! Hurry!”

“B-but, Abbott. The Beggars’ Union can’t do more than this…”

“Tell them that even at the cost of sacrifices they must find out! No—I’ll go myself!”

Beop Jeong sprang up from his seat and ran outside.

“Abbott!”

“Abbott, what’s going on? Abbott!”

Shouts came from behind, but Beop Jeong ran as if he could not hear them.

‘Hegemony Lord!’

Beop Jeong bit his lip until it bled.

‘What on earth are you thinking! That utterly treacherous man!’

Jang Ilso’s image rose vividly in his mind.

Dressed in ornate robes, with bright red lips wide open, he erupted into a leering, obscene grin. It was a terrible laughter.

That hallucinated sound mercilessly stabbed at Beop Jeong’s ears as he ran.