Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 1586

Jang Il-so slowly wiped the blood from his mouth with his sleeve.

Beopjeong watched him, his eyes full of anger.

“This is the end, Tyrant,” Beopjeong said, his voice deep and serious, like thunder. He stared at Jang Il-so, his eyes burning with anger.

But Jang Il-so just laughed, a sound that was cold and mocking. “Hmph,” he sneered. “Words are pointless now, right?”

From the moment they stood facing each other, only one thing remained.

No matter what their intentions or hidden meanings might be.

If Beopjeong killed Jang Il-so, he would become a hero who prevented the chaos. But if Jang Il-so killed Beopjeong, wouldn’t he be seen as someone who defeated the good guys and became a legend in the evil world?

What they wanted didn’t matter anymore. Only one thing was important now: who would win and who would die.

“We both want the same thing, don’t we?”

As Beopjeong’s tone became more obvious, Jang Il-so laughed, as if he liked it.

“You may need my head, but I don’t need yours. What would I do with that old, worn-out head? Not even a dog would eat it.”

Beopjeong’s eyebrow twitched for a moment.

He was the Abbot of Shaolin! He was never insulted like this before. Even though the man was the leader of the Demonic Sect, his mockery had gone too far.

“That’s not what I need, and it’s not what I want.”

“…Then what do you want, Tyrant?”

The fingertips of Jang Il-so, whose blood was drying, twitched slightly.

“Well, it’s something you can’t give me. But at least it will be entertaining. I want to see what face you’ll make when you stop pretending to be good and show who you really are.”

“Amitabha.”

Beopjeong quietly chanted the Buddha’s name.

Indeed, further conversation was meaningless. Beopjeong knew it, and Jang Il-so knew it as well.

Crack!

Beopjeong’s hand clenched slowly into a fist. His hand was empty, but it felt like he was holding immense power.

This was Shaolin’s way – a fist meant to stop fighting, not to kill. It was a fist of mercy, even against evil. No matter what kind of villain he faced, Shaolin’s fist never changed.

However, Beopjeong glanced down at his lightly clenched fist and felt a strange sense of emptiness.

Did it even matter?

Buddhist teachings were about endless mercy, but could mercy work on someone like *him*?

Why did his lifelong beliefs feel useless now? Was Buddhist law not strong enough? Or was *he* not good enough at following it?

Beopjeong could not know. He simply…

Squeeze.

He tightened his fist a little more.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had even fought someone. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Not only a decisive battle involving life and death, but even a light sparring match seemed to have been more than ten years ago.

He had never imagined that he would have the opportunity to fight a life-or-death battle with someone while still alive.

Was he still as strong as people said? People used to call his fighting ‘the Divine Fist of Mount Song’, but was that power gone now?

Maybe this fight would show him the answer.

“You’re taking quite a while to prepare. Has your hand become heavy because you don’t have many days left to live?”

There was a time when Beopjeong was like that too. A time when he believed he could achieve anything and do as he pleased.

But as he experienced the years, he eventually came to know. If there was something he truly wanted to achieve, he had to be patient and wait.

“Just a moment. Just a tiny bit longer.”

“Hmm?”

“Your mistake was being impatient, Tyrant.”

*Thwoom.*

Beopjeong stepped forward lightly. It wasn’t a powerful Shaolin stance, just a simple step. Then, his fist shot out, smooth and fast like water flowing.

Thwoooom!

At that moment, Jang Il-so’s large body was quickly thrown backward as if he had been hit by a giant hammer. His head was thrown back as if it would break.

“Th-!”

Those who were watching were so surprised by the sight that they couldn’t even scream properly.

‘Striking through the air?’

It was a technique all strong fighters could learn – hitting with power from a distance. It was a basic skill for masters.

The technique itself wasn’t amazing. What was shocking was how much power Beopjeong put into it with such a simple move.

How much power did he have inside? How skilled was he in fighting to make such a powerful attack look so easy?

And if he could do *this* with a simple move, how strong would his *real* attacks be?

Scrape!

Jang Il-so’s feet dug into the ground, creating claw-like footprints.

Jang Il-so stumbled back, barely staying on his feet. He slowly straightened up, his back arched from the force of the blow.

Trickle.

A thin line of blood ran from Jang Il-so’s lip. It looked almost unreal, like too much blood for such a quick hit.

“Amitabha.”

Beopjeong ignored the evil look and calmly chanted the Buddha’s name again. All the other disciples were overwhelmed by the sight.

Beopjeong, the Abbot of Shaolin.

The power everyone had heard about, ‘the Divine Fist of Mount Song’, was now on full display.

Everyone watching held their breath, scared by the power they felt from Beopjeong.

“The three poisons are greed, anger, and ignorance. These three bad things make life full of pain.”

“……”

“Greed, anger, and ignorance. You wanted things you shouldn’t have, and you were jealous of everyone and everything.”

A fierce blue light gathered in Jang Il-so’s eyes.

“Greed and hatred… Then ignorance. What’s my ignorance? What do you think I don’t know?”

“You should have known better. This world isn’t the only thing that matters.”

“Hahahahahahaha!”

Jang Il-so burst into wild laughter as if he had heard a very great joke.

“Hee hee! Hahahahaha! That’s your big answer? Are you saying I deserve to die just because I didn’t know *you* were so important? Hahahahaha!”

Flash!

As Jang Il-so waved his hand, the rings that had flown in all directions flew back into his hand. Jang Il-so calmly put the rings back on his fingers, looking at them for a moment. Then, he slowly made a fist.

Clang!

The sound of metal scraping metal filled the air.

“Yeah… Maybe that’s true.”

Jang Il-so slowly lowered his hands and started walking towards Beopjeong, his face looking dangerous.

He seemed to think he was better than everyone. He was truly a tyrant.

No one knew if he was as strong as Beopjeong yet, but he was just as scary and determined.

“Then you should learn this too.”

“You will die,” Jang Il-so said, his grin wide and cruel. “Because you are a fake. You even trick yourself into thinking you are good.”

“Do you understand?” he asked, his voice sharp.

That was the start.

*Thud! Wham!*

Like two wild animals leaping, Jang Il-so and Beop-jeong jumped into the air at the same time.

These were not just any fighters. Jang Il-so was known as the Supreme Fist of the Demonic Path – a dark and dangerous style of fighting. Beop-jeong was the Supreme Fist of the Orthodox Path – a style seen as pure and righteous.

Their fists flew towards each other, full of wild power. It was clear they wanted to destroy each other.

Kwahhh!

A violent storm of energy swept in all directions.

People who had been desperately trying to kill each other in the distance stopped for a moment and turned their heads.

Golden light and dark blue energy filled the air.

Everyone there knew who was creating those energies.

The Supreme Fist of the Demonic Path and the Supreme Fist of the Orthodox Path were fighting to the death. How often would someone get to see such a fight?

Also, everyone who knew martial arts was drawn to the fight. They couldn’t stop watching.

But this was a battlefield.

“Aaaargh!”

Someone came back to their senses, and a sword took the life of someone who was watching the fight.

That death cry was like pottery breaking, and it broke the moment of peace on the battlefield.

“Dieeee!”

“You dirty Demonic Path bastard!”

Blood-covered weapons clashed again, and blood flew everywhere.

A once-in-a-lifetime fight was happening right next to them, but no one could pay attention.

Some people wanted to live, some were lost in the battle, and some were just following orders. All of them had to focus on fighting the enemy in front of them.

So, this rare fight to the death was happening in the middle of a big battle, but the two fighters were completely alone.

Boom!

Fist hit fist.

Beop-jeong’s fist, glowing with golden light, easily pushed away Jang Il-so’s fist, which was covered in dark blue energy.

“Amitabha!” Beop-jeong said, a Buddhist prayer.

Beop-jeong’s fist made many shadows in the air.

This was his Subduing Demon Vajra Fist, a powerful fist attack that looked like it could crush demons!

Golden fist shadows flew towards Jang Il-so very fast.

Flash!

Jang Il-so moved in a strange way. The fist shadows tore at his clothes, but they didn’t hit him. Jang Il-so dodged all the attacks.

But he couldn’t relax yet.

Wham!

Something hit Jang Il-so hard in the chest.

“Ugh!”

He coughed up blood.

He had been hit by the Hundred Step Divine Fist. This attack was so fast that nothing could compare to it. That’s why it was called the ‘Divine Fist.’

Beop-jeong used the Hundred Step Divine Fist right after his first attack. He focused on speed, not just power. He wanted to hit Jang Il-so so fast that he couldn’t dodge, and he did it.

Thud!

Now, the Hundred Step Divine Fist hit again, even harder.

Each time Jang Il-so jumped back to dodge, the ground exploded as if a meteorite had hit it.

“Ha!”

Jang Il-so opened his eyes wide, smiled, and spread his hand. The rings on his fingers glowed with power from inside his body. They spun quickly and flew towards Beop-jeong.

But!

“Amitabha,” Beop-jeong said calmly.

Clang! Tap tap tap!

None of the rings hit Beop-jeong. He used a special finger technique to stop them. This was the Finger Flicking Divine Skill, which Shaolin was famous for. It could deflect rings flying faster than arrows!

Even Jang Il-so was surprised by this amazing skill.

Whoosh.

Beop-jeong jumped lightly. At the same time, his body seemed to split into nine, each one looking like a Buddha statue.

It was like seeing a Buddhist painting come to life.

This was the Nine Grades of the Lotus Platform, a Shaolin skill that could only be mastered by the best.

Boom!

Beop-jeong appeared right in front of Jang Il-so and pushed him in the chest.

Clang!

But Jang Il-so was a strong fighter.

His senses were very sharp, and he reacted to Beop-jeong’s attack. He crossed his wrists, or rather, the bracelets on them, to block Beop-jeong’s palm.

At that moment, Beop-jeong grabbed Jang Il-so’s bracelet with his hand, which was curved like a dragon’s claw.

Wham!

Then, Beop-jeong’s palm hit Jang Il-so in the stomach.

He pulled the bracelet with his right hand and hit Jang Il-so with his left.

Jang Il-so’s insides twisted in pain, but he quickly turned his head as if he had been hit in the face.

Fwoosh!

A white energy shot past Jang Il-so’s cheek.

This was One Finger Zen, a power focused in the finger.

Beop-jeong had stopped Jang Il-so’s hand and then used his finger to attack.

Blood started to flow from Jang Il-so’s cheek.

But Beop-jeong didn’t stop there.

Thump!

He hit Jang Il-so in the legs with his knee. At the same time, he put all his strength into his shoulder and rammed Jang Il-so.

Rumble!

The sound was like a giant mountain collapsing, shaking the ground. Jang Il-so was thrown backward.

“A—mi—ta—bha!”

Beop-jeong stood firm and stretched out his right hand towards Jang Il-so, who was flying backward.

His golden palm grew bigger and flew towards Jang Il-so like the hand of a god destroying demons.

Kaaaa-BOOOOOM!

There was a huge explosion, and a powerful shockwave swept in all directions.