—You said you learned how to raise Burning Yang Finger Energy to push away a wine cup from the Burning Fire Great Demon, that old man?

In the recesses of his memory, the Ghostly Sound Demon Sickle clicked his tongue and laughed.

—Although rarely used now, in the past, Demonic Path martial arts had many techniques of ‘gaining an axe, losing an axe.’

In other words, techniques of zero sum—neither gain nor loss. A prime example was Borrowing Qi to Strike Force, a method the Burning Fire Great Demon had favored.

Decades ago, the Burning Fire Great Demon had taught Bu Eunseol the secrets of this art, which neutralized an enemy’s internal energy by simultaneously redirecting it elsewhere.

—If you use Borrowing Qi to Strike Force, you can divert the enemy’s internal energy, but you cannot pour your own internal energy at the enemy.

The Ghostly Sound Demon Sickle, squatting before a young Bu Eunseol who was fashioning a coffin, had laughed with the innocence of a child.

—But this useless internal energy, buried away because it’s good for nothing, shines particularly brightly against the Heart Beating Bell technique of Shaolin!

Borrowing Qi to Strike Force was not a technique of direct opposition. Instead of clashing with the incoming torrent of force, it gathered the energy and grounded it. While useless in most duels, it was the perfect counter to the Heart Beating Bell of the Eighteen Arhats, who poured out disparate streams of internal energy.

In the past, when the Ghostly Sound Demon Sickle had been besieged by the Eighteen Arhats, he had survived the Heart Beating Bell solely by utilizing this very technique. And he had passed that legacy to Bu Eunseol.

Pull the pouring internal force down to the Yongquan Point.

Thrummm.

Bu Eunseol manipulated his Polarity Reversal True Energy, which had been acting as a dam against the flood, and instead wrapped it around the true energy of the Eighteen Arhats. He prepared to channel the massive surge down through his legs and expel it into the earth through the Yongquan Point at the soles of his feet.

What is happening?

But the laws of martial arts seemed to warp.

Just as he wrapped the internal energy of the Eighteen Arhats and attempted to ground it, the force defied his will. Instead of flowing out, the siphon naturally diverted the energy straight into Bu Eunseol’s own meridians.

“…!”

The anomaly was not lost on Bu Eunseol alone. The Eighteen Arhats, who were maintaining the Heart Beating Bell with every ounce of their focus, widened their eyes in shock.

What is going on?!

The crushing pressure they had been exerting on Bu Eunseol suddenly vanished, sucked into a void.

Is that man a ghost?

Gong Myeong stared in disbelief. The internal energy of a single member of the Eighteen Arhats easily exceeded one cycle of cultivation. To effortlessly receive the combined torrent of eighteen masters and circulate it within one’s own body? Such a feat was impossible for a human.

No, this man must have learned the Chemical Energy Great Law of the Infernal Blood Fortress, or the Liao Yuan Dissolving Energy of the Ghost Sect!

Gong Myeong concluded that their opponent had mastered a forbidden Demonic Art capable of instantly absorbing or annihilating foreign qi.

Vwooom.

A low vibration resonated through the air. A golden luminescence began to cling to Bu Eunseol’s skin. It was the physical manifestation of the Eighteen Arhats’ majestic internal energy flooding his circuits. Glowing with that brilliant, holy light, the “demonic” Bu Eunseol paradoxically resembled the majestic figure of an enlightened Buddha.

Only after seeing the golden aura did Bu Eunseol realize the cause.

The origin of my true energy… was Shaolin after all.

Hyeol Geum-gang had once mentioned that the breathing technique Bu Eunseol learned as a child was a health preservation secret excerpted from Shaolin’s legendary Sutra of Changing Tendons and Washing Marrow.

It was true.

Because his foundation shared the same origin as the Arhats, their energy did not clash with his Polarity Reversal True Energy. Instead, it merged.

It is refreshing.

The pure, orthodox internal energy of the Eighteen Arhats scrubbed through every corner of Bu Eunseol’s meridians, washing away impurities and blasting open stagnant blood points.

“Ugh.”

Gong Myeong trembled, a groan escaping his lips. If Bu Eunseol continued to drain them like a water ghost, their internal energy would be exhausted, leading to their deaths.

Hmm.

Bu Eunseol, observing the monks, frowned.

Even sharing a common origin, the combined internal energy of the Eighteen Arhats exceeded ten cycles by simple calculation. He was frantically distributing the load, but the volume was overwhelming. An ordinary martial artist would have already exploded, their meridians reduced to tatters.

I cannot continue.

A dull ache began to throb in his danjeon. He had to break the connection.

Bu Eunseol’s eyes flashed as he roared, “Prepare yourselves! After annihilating all your internal force, I will sever your necks!”

To speak during a contest of internal energy is an act of suicide; the moment one opens their mouth to exhale, internal force escapes, shattering their defense. Yet, Bu Eunseol had shouted.

“Ugh!”

Startled by the suicidal bluff, Gong Myeong let out an undignified groan. His concentration snapped, and the stream of internal energy from the Head of the Arhats wavered. The instability cascaded instantly through the formation, flushing the other seventeen monks with panic.

“Kuh…”

The Heart Beating Bell required a consistent, stable output of pure true energy. As the Arhats faltered, their energies tangled into a chaotic mess.

Now!

Bu Eunseol seized the split second of disruption. He violently flushed the excess force from his meridians into the ground.

“Argh!”

The parasitic drain on the Arhats severed abruptly. The sudden backlash sent the eighteen monks screaming as they tumbled backward, their formation broken.

“My internal energy! My internal energy has all disappeared!”

Gong Hak, the youngest of the group, cried out in terror. Bu Eunseol did not hesitate. He pierced through the crumbling barrier of true energy and stepped free.

He had finally escaped the Heart Beating Bell.

“Haa, haa.”

The Eighteen Arhats hung their heads, gasping for air. Having rapidly consumed their internal force while in a state of mental instability, they had plummeted into severe exhaustion.

Shiiing.

The Dark Sword slid from its sheath.

In this situation, a single stroke would be enough to claim eighteen heads.

“…”

But Bu Eunseol stood motionless.

If he had been forced to destroy the Heart Beating Bell through brute force, he would have killed them instantly. However, this victory had granted him an unexpected boon—the absorption of Shaolin’s health preservation energy. To slaughter them after benefiting from their origin energy would leave a stain of unease on his conscience.

“Why did you not kill us?”

As Bu Eunseol stood like a statue with bared steel, Gong Myeong spoke in a rasping voice.

“If you had struck immediately, you could have severed this poor monk’s neck… before Gwang Yeon even had a chance to step in.”

Bu Eunseol looked down at the pale monk. “None of your business.”

He sheathed the Dark Sword and turned away.

“Go.”

Staring at Bu Eunseol’s retreating back, realization dawned on Gong Myeong.

Come to think of it…

The energy Bu Eunseol had wielded, wrapped within the force of the Heart Beating Bell, was majestic and pure. Such a cultivation art could never be mastered by a heinous deviant of the Demonic Path. Moreover, if he were truly a demon who reveled in slaughter, he would never have missed the opportunity to decapitate the Eighteen Arhats in a single breath.

I see. So that is why Wudang did not pursue him.

Wudang had dispatched the Master of Great Righteousness, Song Ak, to eliminate Bu Eunseol. Song Ak had returned empty-handed, yet Wudang had remained composed, refraining from further pursuit. Perhaps Song Ak, too, had discerned the man’s true nature.

“Rumors of the martial world cannot be trusted.”

Gong Myeong sighed deeply. The Orthodox Faction branded him a Ten Demonic Successor of the Wolf Fang Pavilion, a monster stained with blood. But in person, he was merely a cold-hearted martial artist walking his own path.

“May this poor monk ask one thing?”

“…”

“Why does a martial artist like you constantly antagonize the Beggar Sect?”

Under normal circumstances, Bu Eunseol would have ignored the question. But sensing a trace of genuine goodwill in the monk’s voice, he halted.

“I am trying to find the Beggar King.”

“The Beggar King…” Gong Myeong nodded, the puzzle pieces falling into place. “So the Beggar Sect revealed your location.”

“The Beggar Sect?”

“That is correct.” Gong Myeong wore a faint, knowing smile. “Benefactor Gu is the Supreme Elder of the Beggar Sect, but his relationship with the current leadership is… strained. You are likely aware of this.”

Bu Eunseol nodded lightly.

The Beggar King, Gu Hong-cheong. An outstanding talent who had mastered the essence of the Beggar Sect’s arts in his youth, he had risen as the prime candidate for Sect Leader. His ambition was grand: to transform the den of beggars into the premier sect under the heavens, surpassing even Shaolin.

However, the former Sect Leader, Sang Gwan-un, feared this ambition would ruin the sect and passed the mantle to Gu Hong-cheong’s junior, Yeon Wi-seong. Disheartened, Gu Hong-cheong wandered the world until Yeon Wi-seong died suddenly. He returned, expecting the title, only for the elders to choose the moderate No Bong. Even when No Bong fell ill, power passed to Deputy Sect Leader Hae Pung.

Gu Hong-cheong had since changed tactics. He attempted to install a puppet, the Master of Great Righteousness Seong Ryun, to rule from the shadows. When Bu Eunseol killed Seong Ryun, that plan crumbled. Now, Gu Hong-cheong was amassing forces to seize the throne by force.

“Are you looking for Benefactor Gu’s whereabouts?”

“Do you know where he is?”

“I do not. His movements are such that even the intelligence network of the Beggar Sect cannot track him.”

Then why waste my time with this history lesson? Bu Eunseol raised an eyebrow.

Gong Myeong’s smile deepened. “But I know a way to make him come to you.”

Taking a deep breath, the monk looked up at the clear sky. “Go to Xianhwa Peak of Mount Yuanyun.”

“Xianhwa Peak?”

“Correct. If you go there, you will find the bait required to draw Benefactor Gu out.”

It was a riddle. Yet, Bu Eunseol nodded. The Head of the Eighteen Arhats would not speak nonsense lightly.

“Amitabha.”

Gathering his hands in prayer, Gong Myeong bowed. “I hope this has been of help.”

It was truly strange. Why would a high monk of Shaolin aid a demonic practitioner against the Beggar Sect?

So Buddhist monks also calculate profit.

Bu Eunseol quickly deduced the intent. No matter his skill, Bu Eunseol was the underdog against Gu Hong-cheong, a master of the Supreme Heavenly Realm. By setting them against each other, Shaolin ensured that a dangerous variable like the Beggar King was checked—without the Eighteen Arhats dirtying their own hands.

“Then.”

As Gong Myeong turned to leave, the Arhats followed. But Gwang Yeon lingered, his gaze fixed on Bu Eunseol.

“Do you have something to say?”

Gwang Yeon brought his hands together. “Seeing Benefactor Bu makes this poor monk ashamed.”

“…”

“Even as a disciple of Buddhism, following the interests of the Temple is unavoidable. In truth, the Head of the Arhat Hall… is borrowing your hand to deal with Benefactor Beggar King.”

“I know,” Bu Eunseol answered nonchalantly. “Since my goal is to fight him anyway.”

“I see.” Gwang Yeon smiled faintly. “By chance, do you know this? If you train the Prajna Great Ability among the Seventy-Two Supreme Arts of our Temple, you gain an ability akin to the ‘Penetration of Others’ Minds’.”

“…”

“Of course, it is not literal mind-reading… but rather the ability to sense emotions or predict movements through the flow of true energy.”

Bu Eunseol stared intently at the monk’s face.

“There is a technique called Equal Awakening One Turn of the Sword Pavilion that is similar.” Gwang Yeon dropped his voice to a whisper. “I am telling you that if you reach the Supreme Heavenly Realm, these things become possible without specific techniques.”

Instantly, Bu Eunseol’s eyes shook.

Penetration of Others’ Minds, Equal Awakening One Turn… was that it?

It was no coincidence that Gwang Yeon had seen through his ultimate technique, Lamentation by the River. He, too, must have learned the Prajna Great Ability. By meticulously analyzing the first four forms of the Supreme Heavenly Flow, he had predicted the decisive move.

If I had fought the Beggar King without knowing this…

Bu Eunseol narrowed his eyes. Facing Gu Hong-cheong in his current state would have been suicide. Even if he poured out Lamentation by the River a hundred times, the Beggar King—a master of the Supreme Heavenly Realm—would see through it instantly.

“Benefactor Bu accepts all trials and enlightens himself,” Gwang Yeon observed, his gaze deep. “But whether it is martial arts or Buddhist dharma… a good teacher is needed for great achievement.”

He spoke as if he had peered directly into Bu Eunseol’s soul.

The martial secret of the Wolf Fang Pavilion was ‘Enlightenment’. Having mastered various arts, Bu Eunseol had no master; he evolved his skills through life-or-death combat. While this allowed for explosive growth, it forced him to deduce profound principles alone, leaving subtle flaws exposed.

“Although the Wolf Fang Pavilion produced the Number One Under the Heavens several times, it lacks systematic transmission,” Gwang Yeon murmured. “Ultimately, because achievement relies solely on the learner’s comprehension, it has struggled to produce outstanding figures in recent generations.”

“Why do you tell me this?” Bu Eunseol could not fathom the monk’s generosity. “Am I not your enemy?”

Gwang Yeon smiled. “Because I am also a disciple of Shaolin. Benefactor Gu’s ambition is not limited to the Beggar Sect. Rather than seeing someone who would disturb the martial world gain power… it would be preferable for someone without political ambition to win.”

Bu Eunseol was dumbfounded.

Was Shaolin such a scary place?

The Head of the Arhat Hall used a “borrowed knife” strategy by leaking information. And now, the so-called genius of Shaolin was explicitly rooting for a “demonic” figure over an Orthodox leader, simply to maintain the balance of power.

“It seems Buddhist disciples enjoy borrowing others’ hands for their own benefit.”

Despite the scathing remark, Gwang Yeon’s eyes remained unwavering. “Depending on the perspective, it could be seen that way.”

This man should have been a lay disciple.

Gwang Yeon was a figure far more suited to the machinations of the secular world than the temple. Perhaps Shaolin knew this, which is why he was assigned as a simple Sweeping Monk.

“Then, if karma permits, let us meet again.”

Gwang Yeon bowed as if his work were done. With a blur of movement, he vanished into the distance.

Watching Gwang Yeon’s back disappear like the wind, Bu Eunseol took a deep breath.

“Is it starting now?”

Thanks to the monk’s advice, he had discovered a fatal flaw in his martial arts. And finally, he had caught the tail of the Beggar King.

“But…”

Bu Eunseol had to completely revise his strategy. He needed to urgently supplement the gaps in his technique. Only then could he hope to survive against the terrifying monster known as the Beggar King.