Chapter 28:

Chapter 28:

Shortly after.

Mu-gung, having just regained his breath, stood up with a flushed face and stepped back from the center of the training ground.

“You’re not suited for flashy stuff, you know?”

Mu-jin continued to chide Mu-gung, who was moving away.

With his large frame and not-so-great flexibility, Mu-gung’s movements inevitably became more susceptible to exposing weaknesses as they grew larger.

Mu-jin had always advised Mu-gung to utilize concise attacks and feints to maximize his strength, which was his asset.

“Sorry about that. Tsk.”

Mu-gung, embarrassed in front of the Shaolin elders, ticked off with a face reddened in anger, and Mu-jin couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh.

‘Right. He’s still at an age to be afflicted with adolescent angst, can’t help it.’

What could he expect from kids? As long as they passed, that was good enough.

It seemed that Mu-gung had safely passed the entrance examination, so Mu-jin’s attention naturally shifted elsewhere.

To a corner where the introductory disciples waiting for their turn were gathered, towards the one who seemed to be digging a hole in the ground all by himself.

Mu-jin, noticing the palpable tension in Mu-gyeong’s shoulders, nonchalantly draped his arm over them and asked.

“Ready?”

“No, no, no, not yet.”

In response to Mu-jin’s question, Mu-gyeong answered, shaking as if he had an electric motor in his mouth.

Not just his mouth, but Mu-gyeong’s shoulders, where Mu-jin had placed his arm, were also trembling violently.

“Wi-wi-will I be able to do well?”

To Mu-gyeong’s trembling question, Mu-jin shook his head.

“You don’t need to do well.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t need to try to do well.”

Saying so, Mu-jin taught Mu-gyeong a few Close-Range Spear Techniques to help ease his tension, just as he had done for Mu-gung.

Then he added the most important piece of advice for Mu-gyeong, who was following him and warming up.

“Mu-gyeong, just remember this one thing.”

The most critical point Mu-gyeong needed to take care of in this examination wasn’t ‘not to be nervous.’

“Don’t get too excited. Got it?”

From what he had observed over the past one year and nine months, Mu-gyeong was someone who caused more trouble when excited than when nervous.

* * *

As the entrance examination was coming to a close.

“Introductory disciple Mu-gyeong, step forward!”

Finally, Mu-gyeong’s name was called.

“Don’t get excited!”

Leaving behind Mu-jin’s words—whether they were encouragement or warning—Mu-gyeong headed to the center of the training ground with trembling steps.

Mu-jin watched Mu-gyeong with a look of concern.

He wasn’t worried that Mu-gyeong would fail the examination.

‘Mu-gyeong wasn’t destined to become a blood successor for nothing.’

Mu-gyeong was, quite literally, a genius.

Mu-gyeong had started learning martial arts only after coming to Shaolin. Moreover, when it came to physical talent, he was rather lacking compared to Mu-yul and Mu-gung.

Yet, he possessed a talent that overshadowed all that.

He had the intelligence to grasp the intricacies of martial arts in a single attempt and the talent to use internal energy easily once he understood it.

In a world within martial arts novels that values martial arts and internal energy, Mu-gyeong’s talent was truly befitting of the term ‘genius’.

Still, the reason Mu-jin was worried about Mu-gyeong was precisely because he was the future blood successor.

* * *

Meanwhile.

The Second-class Disciple, Beob-hwan, who had stepped out for Mu-gyeong’s examination, looked at the introductory disciple standing before him with a curious expression.

Most kids would take the initiative to attack during their examinations. After all, showing one’s skills was generally easier through offense rather than defense.

However, the child before him didn’t go on the offensive even as the sparring began and appeared visibly tense.

‘Maybe, for the first time in this examination, there might be a candidate who fails.’

Mu-gyeong’s movements, which flowed like a painting, despite mixing different martial arts, had no discordance.

As the sparring continued, a twisted smile began to appear on the previously timid Mu-gyeong’s lips.

As if finding this precarious sparring to be delightfully enjoyable, Mu-gyeong continued to unfold the martial arts he had learned.

Faced against Mu-gyeong, who grew more unpredictable with every move, Beob-hwan fell into deep contemplation.

“Can it be that basic martial arts alone are not enough to contend with this child?”

Even with restricted internal energy, there was a gap of at least fifteen years of martial arts training between them. Yet, Beob-hwan found himself being outmatched in understanding the basics.

A brief moment of contemplation caused a slight gap in Beob-hwan’s movements, and Mu-gyeong seized the opportunity.

A fist infused with Mu-gyeong’s killing intent flew towards Beob-hwan’s vital points.

‘Killing intent!!’

And Beob-hwan, reacting to that killing intent, instinctively maneuvered his internal energy.

A martial art that should never have been used during the entrance examination.

He executed one of the most powerful martial arts he had learned, one of the Seventy-two Consummate Arts, the Dharma Eighteen Hands.

No matter how talented Mu-gyeong was, it was impossible for a mere introductory disciple to block the Seventy-two Consummate Arts.

“No!!”

As the worst possible scenario unfolded, Mu-jin shouted and rushed towards the training ground.

But before him, a shadow appeared on the training ground.

Bang!

The man who appeared in the training ground used his right leg to block Mu-gyeong’s punch while simultaneously using his left palm to stop Beob-hwan’s strike.

Even if it was an incomplete Dharma Eighteen Hands executed by the Second-class Disciple, the man who blocked the attack was as relaxed as if he were out for a leisurely walk.

Gulp gulp.

To top it off, the man, while blocking attacks from both sides with his right leg and left palm, was nonchalantly drinking from a liquor bottle he held in his right hand, a sight so bizarre it felt surreal.

Then. Senior brother Hye-dam, frowning, called out to the drinking man in a stern tone.

“Hye-gwan, how dare you drink alcohol within the sacred grounds of Shaolin. It seems you truly wish to enter the Cave of Repentance.”

“Ha ha ha ha. Senior brother Hye-dam, you jest too much. How could I possibly dare to drink within the sacred grounds of Shaolin.”

The man who smirked playfully threw the wooden liquor bottle he had been drinking from to Senior brother Hye-dam.

And astonishingly, when Hye-dam caught the bottle, there was not even a hint of alcohol scent coming from it.

In that brief moment, he had used the extreme Yang energy unique to Shaolin martial arts to evaporate the alcohol content without affecting the water or the wooden bottle itself. Hye-dam was well aware that the man had casually performed such an extraordinary feat.

“Sigh... I understand your hard work, but there are lines that should not be crossed, Hye-gwan.”

Nevertheless, Hye-dam did not pursue the matter further. In fact, no one there attempted to challenge Hye-gwan.

This was partly due to Hye-gwan’s personality, but also because of the incredibly heavy karma he bore.

Shaolin was a Buddhist sect, and its teachings emphasized compassion, guidance, and the importance of not taking life.

However, sometimes in this world, there were despicable villains beyond redemption.

For such cases, Shaolin would occasionally send out certain individuals to deal with them beyond the temple’s walls.

The only ones in Shaolin exempt from the rule of non-killing, these individuals willingly walked the path of Asura for the sake of sentient beings.

Hye-gwan was the leader of these individuals, known in the martial world as the Demon Extermination Squad.

Understanding the weight of the karma that the Demon Extermination Squad bore, everyone chose to overlook Hye-gwan’s eccentricities.

They knew how difficult it was to continue the cycle of killing as someone who had learned the Buddha’s way.

All of Hye-gwan’s frivolous actions and drinking were seen as efforts to cope with the immense guilt.

Known in the martial world as the Drunken Buddha or the Demon-Conquering Buddha Who Does Not Retreat, Hye-gwan brushed off Senior brother Hye-dam’s warning with a playful smile.

“Heh heh heh. My apologies for interrupting the honorable masters, senior brothers, and disciples observing the entrance examination, but it seems I must take this child under my wing.”

And with that, he announced his intention to take Mu-gyeong as his personal disciple.

Mu-gyeong, who had just displayed incredible talent in the sparring, naturally sparked the interest of others, but no one dared to object to Hye-gwan’s declaration.

Those of lesser cultivation didn’t think they could handle Hye-gwan’s temperament, and those of higher cultivation understood why Hye-gwan had stepped forward.

They, too, had recognized the madness and killing intent Mu-gyeong had revealed at the end of the sparring.

“Amitabha.”

Abbot Hyun Cheon, the head of Shaolin, watched the scene between Hye-gwan and Mu-gyeong with a somewhat sorrowful expression.

“Perhaps this is for the best.”

The Buddha greatly valued compassion and forgiveness. Instead of casting out the child with madness from Shaolin, Abbot Hyun Cheon thought that cultivating under Hye-gwan, who opposed the demonic, might be more beneficial for the child.