Chapter – 77
Right after Kang Yu subdued the old man, Musung arrived at the orphanage.
He had set out immediately after Kang Yu and Yeon Baekrim, but the time discrepancy between the Illusory Formation and reality caused a delay.
Musung offered both of them praise mixed with astonishment and apology.
Afterward, he began an interview with the orphanage director.
Since he had already found suspicious irregularities in the donation records, it was less an interview and more an interrogation.
However, the director remembered nothing.
Not who Kang Yu and Yeon Baekrim were.
Not why Musung had come to the orphanage.
He too had merely been a victim of the scheme meant to lure Kang Yu.
“I see. So that was the case.”
“Y-Yes. I truly do not understand what you are talking about…”
Thud.
Kang Yu grabbed the director by the head.
“Shall we continue what we left unfinished earlier?”
“…Pardon?”
Kang Yu glanced back.
“Eyes, please.”
“……”
A short while later—
“I-I…”
Everything the director had said was a lie.
With the whites of his eyes exposed, he confessed everything in detail.
From petty embezzlement…
To selling the schedule of Muhak’s visit for a hefty sum…
To driving the orphans out of the basement they used as lodging and handing it over entirely to a wealthy “guest.”
Hearing the full story, anger sharpened Musung’s brow.
“Investigate thoroughly and uncover all remaining crimes without omission.”
The arhats who had arrived belatedly with Musung bound the director and the old man.
Only then did Musung properly see the old man’s face—and froze.
“No… this man is…!”
He was someone he knew.
An acquaintance from long ago.
Musung’s white brows shot upward.
“Moshan Divine Elder (Mao Shan Shen Lao)…!”
Moshan Divine Elder.
The eleventh sect leader of the Maoshan Sect in Jiangsu, master of spells, talismans, and mystical arts.
Fifty years ago, he had sought to unify the world through his specialty—Illusory Arts.
At the time, the Murim Alliance had declared the entire Maoshan Sect public enemies of the martial world. Only after tremendous bloodshed had they barely crushed his ambition.
The chilling part?
There had been only eight disciples in the Maoshan Sect at the time.
Eight had held off tens of thousands of united orthodox martial artists for three years.
Each disciple’s mystical arts were extraordinary, but the Divine Elder’s Illusory Arts were overwhelming.
He alone faced tens of thousands of masters and drove thousands to their deaths.
It was said that within an Illusory Formation, he could rival even the world’s greatest—Talma Shin Hon and Hwang Rang.
In the end, the righteous alliance poured in all their strength to destroy the Maoshan Sect, but they never captured the Divine Elder. His whereabouts had remained unknown.
And now—
That very man was flailing helplessly like this.
“Now then, who is the pathetic one—ugh…”
“……”
The Divine Elder had been over a hundred even back then.
Yet now, sixty years later, he looked only in his seventies or eighties.
Was it the result of his mysterious cultivation?
Moreover, for reasons unknown, he had possessed a woman’s body at the time.
If Musung hadn’t seen his face clearly now, he would never have recognized him by gender alone.
“M-Moshan Divine Elder…?”
Yeon Baekrim, overhearing Musung, was equally shocked.
In the scripts that depicted Illusory Arts, the Divine Elder had always been portrayed as nearly invincible.
There had been crises, yes—but more often he toyed with monsters.
Yeon Baekrim had never imagined the old man was truly such a terrifying existence.
Strength and weakness in the martial world were relative, after all.
He cautiously glanced at Kang Yu beside him.
—I used to suspect something.
—What?
—That the Divine Dragon might just be all rumors. That he was fooling people with lies. I mean, he never runs, always gets carried, faints every time…
“……”
I need to get away from this man as soon as possible.
Staying any longer is like carrying brushwood into a wildfire.
“Well then, since things seem concluded, I shall take my leave…”
Musung stopped him.
“What are you saying? I heard you played a decisive role in capturing the Divine Elder.”
“Pardon?”
“I heard everything from Squad Leader Kang. If not for you, everything would have come to nothing.”
“……”
Behind Musung’s shoulder, the monster waved cheerfully.
“You must be curious about the Abbot’s condition as well. Let us return to the mountain gate. Shaolin does not send away a benefactor empty-handed.”
“I did nothing, really…”
“Ahem. Excessive humility can itself be discourteous.”
“……”
Yeon Baekrim glanced behind Musung again.
The monster nodded, as if urging him to agree.
Damn it.
I should have left him behind earlier.
What was I thinking…
“Please do not make Shaolin an ungrateful institution.”
“……”
Pressed repeatedly, Yeon Baekrim bit his lip.
He had no real grounds to refuse.
“…Very well.”
Musung smiled in satisfaction.
Though Yeon Baekrim appeared refined, he lacked the aura typical of a master—something that made Musung uneasy.
Yet Kang Yu had spoken highly of the Sun-Moon Divine Sword’s exploits.
Though Kang Yu was humble and may have exaggerated, Yeon Baekrim was undoubtedly a martial artist worthy of his reputation.
Divine Dragon.
Divine Sword.
New heroes emerging in a chaotic era.
They soon returned to Shaolin.
“Let’s go.”
“……”
During the journey, it looked strange that the Sun-Moon Divine Sword was being carried on Kang Yu’s back.
Musung assumed it was exhaustion from capturing the Divine Elder.
They imprisoned the Divine Elder and the director in the underground prison before heading to Wall-Facing Cave.
The cave walls and ceiling were covered in finely carved Buddhist scriptures.
At the far end lay an aged body.
Muhak.
Bound in shackles.
“S-Sect Leader!”
Musung rushed forward.
Muhak’s pulse was faint; his body pale as a corpse.
He had assumed everything would be resolved after dealing with the Divine Elder—but this…
“Wait.”
Kang Yu grabbed Muhak’s hand.
Unlike Namgung Cheon, whose energy had rampaged wildly, Muhak’s vitality was fading.
This was no matter of simple treatment.
If this continued, the only man who knew the sacred relic’s whereabouts would die.
“Do you have an emergency medicine?” Kang Yu asked.
“Emergency… medicine?”
Instead of explaining, Kang Yu pulled out a wooden box.
“This.”
<Great Rejuvenation Pill (Daehwandan)>
“Daehwandan…?”
Even if the term “emergency medicine” was strange, everyone knew of the Great Rejuvenation Pill.
Even at Shaolin—the place that manufactured it—it was said that even if the entire Medicine Hall labored, one might be produced only once every hundred years.
“I don’t have one right now,” Musung said nervously. “The Abbot recently mentioned that perhaps one might be completed soon…”
“…He said one might be completed soon?”
“Yes.”
Kang Yu avoided Musung’s gaze.
He had already eaten the final emergency pill meant for this place.
And even scraped the leftover powder to feed the Crown Prince.
“What shall we do…”
“Do you have any other medicine?”
“Other medicine?”
“Yes.”
“We do have some Small Rejuvenation Pills…”
“I’ll take those.”
Musung quickly returned with a box.
The pill was smaller and less fragrant than Bang’s grandfather’s, but clearly similar.
Kang Yu fed it to Muhak and massaged his body.
Color slowly returned to Muhak’s face.
Musung was stunned.
He’s skilled in medicine too?
“He’s improved slightly,” Kang Yu said. “But it’s not enough. At this rate, there will be no recovery.”
“N-No recovery?”
“He won’t last long.”
“…!”
Kang Yu closed his eyes and muttered strange phrases:
“Heaven-and-earth moss… cave petroleum… tiger scale… flame carp gall… hemp root…”
After a while, he stood.
“I’ll be right back.”
He soon returned, dirt under his nails, holding a strange root—like sweet potatoes clustered together.
Musung recognized it.
“A hundred-year He Shou Wu?”
“If this works.”
“What do you mean?”
“If we don’t have one, we make one.”
“…What?”
Kang Yu looked at the box.
<Great Rejuvenation Pill>
“You don’t mean to make one yourself?!”
“I can. Out of a hundred attempts, maybe one or two succeed. But I know how.”
“……”
Shaolin barely produced one per century.
And he would make one himself?
“With just that root?!”
“Of course not.”
Kang Yu blew dirt off it.
“There’s a method.”
Meanwhile.
In the underground prison—
The Moshan Divine Elder slowly opened his eyes.
He had only pretended to be unconscious.
Through the thick red sandalwood bars, he observed the guards.
In a faint voice:
“W-Water…”
The moment an arhat’s eyes met his—
The arhat’s pupils clouded.
He unlocked the prison.
Freed the Divine Elder.
Other arhats arrived—
Then all walked out in a line.
“Grave Mountain, Ghost Vanishing!”
A bead shattered.
His body vanished.
He reappeared thousands of miles away in a hidden cave.
A teleportation technique exchanging position with a prepared object.
He laughed.
“Good. This turned out well.”
Sixty years ago, even when Maoshan burned, he had not used the Ten-Thousand Souls Bead.
It had been madness to use it just to kill one brat.
But—
Everything had happened within the Illusory Formation.
Which meant—
The bead still existed intact.
Public oil. Solar fire essence. Ten-thousand-year ice crystal. Ten-thousand-year He Shou Wu.
None compared to the Ten-Thousand Souls Bead.
He reached into his robes.
“I have won! Now who is pathetic—who—?”
His hand froze.
He searched frantically.
Stripped naked.
A small object rolled out.
Clack…
A pebble.
Not a crimson bead swirling with souls.
Just a common stone.
On it were tiny words:
<Thanks. I’ll make good use of it.>
A certain face flashed before his eyes.
“You little…!”
From thousands of miles away, he roared:
“I will tear you apart! I will tear you apart!”
His naked scream echoed through the cave.
