Sichuan's Mad Dragon (Novel) - Chapter 144 - Little Brother

Chapter 144 – Little Brother

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Translated by Heavenly Cat
Edited by Celestial Knight

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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‘Does Shaolin have swordsmanship?’

If simply asking whether it exists, the answer is absolutely yes. Shaolin essentially has every branch of martial arts.

Shaolin’s famous Sutra Repository Hall was said to contain Buddhist texts, Taoist texts, military texts, and even evil and demonic path martial arts.

But if asking whether there was swordsmanship containing the essence of Shaolin martial arts, most people would shake their heads.

Ju-seong was one of them. After all, it was peculiar for Shaolin Temple, which adopted non-killing as its banner, to use bladed weapons.

But…

‘Shaolin’s sword… exists?’

Ju-seong stared blankly at Won-gong forming the sword seal. Suddenly, the thought occurred that he’d pushed him hard enough to bring out a technique he’d never revealed before.

In other words, the match had been reversed by a single move.

‘The Myriad Heavens Flower Rain. That technique shifted the momentum.’

The technique’s power was greater than expected. He’d managed to embed three cold iron needles in Won-gong’s body.

Of course, he’d targeted weaknesses in the Vajra Indestructible Divine Art.

Since Won-gong hadn’t mastered the Vajra Indestructible Divine Art, he couldn’t move while executing it.

If he’d only thrown a few cold iron needles, Won-gong would have deflected them with his hands instead of using the divine art.

But since an unavoidable rain of hidden weapons poured down, he had no other choice.

Using the Vajra Indestructible Divine Art was ultimately a bad move. He couldn’t move, so the cold iron needles got through.

Though using a technique with overwhelmingly less internal energy consumption than a killing technique was his reasoning.

Credit to Ju-seong’s habit of persistently analyzing and studying opponents, this was a moment where it shone.

‘But I don’t know if I did the right thing.’

Pushing him into a corner made this strange thing pop out.

At first glance, the golden sword energy extending from the sword seal might seem feeble.

‘But it’s different from ordinary sword energy.’

Drawing sword energy with this much killing edge without a sword? Even a swordsman of considerable realm couldn’t do it.

Yet this Shaolin monk who primarily trained in fist and palm techniques could infuse such killing edge into sword energy?

Time momentarily slowed, and his brain spun so violently he could smell blood in his nasal passages.

Ju-seong soon vaguely grasped the essence. With eyes bloodshot in an instant, he glared at Won-gong and muttered inwardly.

‘So… I need to think differently. That’s not a sword meant to harm people.’ Looking again, wasn’t that sword the embodiment of resolute ‘severance’ itself before it was even a sword? “Severance.”

At Ju-seong’s brief utterance, Won-gong nodded.

“Remarkable insight. Correct. Before being a sword, it is severance itself.”

Just as Shaolin’s second patriarch Huike severed one arm for enlightenment. Just as Patriarch Bodhidharma cut off his drooping eyelids during cultivation.

It was the Buddhist heart itself that severs all worldly attachments without hesitation.

Therefore, even without being a swordsman, anyone with unwavering Buddhist heart could manifest this sword.

Poison was consuming his body, yet his sword blazed even more intensely. Won-gong’s lips slowly parted.

“This is one of Shaolin’s consummate arts, the Three Swords of Bodhidharma.”

Three Swords of Bodhidharma. Ju-seong engraved the name in his mind.

And then…

-Swoosh.

The slowly descending sword seal.

Ju-seong raised his left palm to block the sword energy. A simple downward slash. Ju-seong thought no complex thoughts, simply pouring maximum internal energy into his palm.

But…

-Thwump…

The sword energy that struck his palm scattered golden fragments like heat shimmer and dissipated. Far too anticlimactically.

But Won-gong’s sword seal still maintained its trajectory, continuing the downward slash.

‘What is this?’

The blade was broken yet he continued the move holding just the handle? While puzzled, Ju-seong felt something foreign suddenly invade his mind.

And tremendous pain engulfed Ju-seong’s soul.

“Hrk…!”

Ju-seong realized that golden sword energy had somehow infiltrated his spirit, his upper dantian.

Bodhidharma’s sword that severs worldly attachments. Since worldly attachments originally resided in the heart, a sword to sever them must cut the heart. The Three Swords of Bodhidharma was an ancient martial art that pursued the mind sword.

Normally, that single move would have caused Ju-seong tremendous suffering before he fainted.

Only an ascetic monk who’d practiced hardship his whole life, or an innocent child, could be struck by that sword and remain unharmed.

But Ju-seong had one defense.

A tremendous collision sound that only Ju-seong could hear rang in his ears.

-CLAAAANG!!

The Taoist sword energy that had lodged in Ju-seong’s upper dantian through Li Bai’s arrangement. In his mental image, it was a single elegant sword embedded in crimson clouds.

The mind sword Won-gong sent had collided with that sword and couldn’t advance further.

Ju-seong felt the sword energy lodged in his upper dantian loosen and wobble from the shock. His vision also split into two, three from the impact.

“Mmm…”

When Ju-seong regained his senses, Won-gong was frozen in place with his sword seal lowered.

The paralytic poison had taken effect.

“Choosing not to suppress the poison but to use a killing technique was not a wise choice.”

Ju-seong was about to push his body and send him out of the arena.

-Crack!

Won-gong’s frozen elbow made a strange sound and moved, thrusting palm force toward Ju-seong’s chest.

‘Insane?’

Ju-seong was startled and similarly thrust palm force at Won-gong’s chest.

-BOOM!

Golden light and crimson light drew overlapping concentric circles in the air, mixing into a purple-gold color as they spread.

And the two figures flew away from each other, left and right. Ju-seong extended his Kunlun Iron Claws at the arena’s edge and scraped the ground to brake.

-Screech!

He barely hung on at the edge, then used his body’s elasticity to pivot and climb back up.

But Won-gong, with his body consumed by paralytic poison, couldn’t do the same.

He stood upright below the arena, calmly forming a half-palm.

‘Strange that basic movements are possible despite the Purple Gold Centipede’s paralytic poison.’

Though greatly slowed, he’d used internal energy to fire palm force just now, and was even forming a half-palm.

He’d probably detoxify on his own in about half a day.

But the victor standing on the arena now was clearly Ju-seong himself. With the judge’s declaration of victory and thunderous cheers descending on his shoulders.

He stood still, walked to the far edge of the arena, and offered a fist salute to Won-gong standing below.

“I apologize for earlier. My pride was hurt, and I wanted to fight properly.”

Won-gong made a half-palm as if it were nothing and bowed his head.

“It’s fine. Honestly speaking, you’re the first person to get on my nerves this much, so I felt my cultivation deepening.”

“Mm.”

Ju-seong scratched the back of his head. He was so good-natured it was actually harder to befriend him.

He suddenly remembered and asked.

“Come to think of it, I’m curious what you meant by what you muttered last time.”

The day Ju-seong shot killing intent at Jang Hwa-rin, Won-gong had muttered to himself, commenting on Ju-seong.

That he was fated to become either the Immovable Wisdom King or the Heavenly Demon.

Won-gong shook his head.

“Please don’t dwell on it, benefactor. If you pay attention to my words from then, worldly attachments will find you, and worldly attachments will turn into inner demons.”

“Mmm.”

“Consider it the ramblings of a baldy monk. In truth, aren’t those born exceptional all destined to become either great heroes or great villains? That’s the context in which I spoke.”

The cheers subsided, and the two martial artists’ conversation also ended. The loser disappeared through the back door, but his posture was never craven.

Countless praises followed his retreating figure, having unreservedly shown the essence of Shaolin martial arts to the end.

Only when his figure vanished did Ju-seong finally blink and turn his head.

It was unbelievable.

Having defeated all the promising rising stars of jianghu, victory.

This meant he was absolutely at the peak among martial artists of this age. And with that, a customary choice came to him.

The Martial Alliance Leader’s firmly closed lips opened, and a simple sentence flowed out.

“Congratulations on your victory, Ju-seong. You may select one person among all those present in this arena and request their teachings.”

Usually, one would call out an elder from their sect, or spar with the Martial Alliance Leader… those were typical choices.

Those who called out their sect’s elder wanted to pass the ceremony without any complications. Those who called out the Martial Alliance Leader hoped to gain a fragment of enlightenment from someone called a great elder of jianghu.

Among the Ten Greats Under Heaven, the superhuman experts, usually didn’t show themselves at events like the Ascending Dragon Assembly, so only the Martial Alliance Leader could be seen here.

But Ju-seong had no intention of choosing either option. He had no sect elder to call out.

And there would likely be many more chances to request teachings from the Martial Alliance Leader.

He already had someone in mind from the start. Ju-seong turned his back to the Martial Alliance Leader, offered a fist salute to the spectator stands, and called out.

“Fellow martial artists, this performer’s tricks from the streets seem to have entertained you quite a bit.”

Scattered responses burst out. Ju-seong smiled slightly and continued.

“I have a friend with whom I’ve sworn brotherhood, but due to personal circumstances, he couldn’t participate in the Ascending Dragon Assembly. Though traditionally one requests teachings from an elder of the martial world, I understand the rules allow calling anyone from the spectator stands onto the arena.”

He took one deep breath and shouted.

“Chun-mong, come up to the arena. I must show off my proud little brother to my fellow martial artists!”

Chun-mong, wearing blue martial robes, was sitting at the very front of the spectator stands. At Ju-seong’s shout, he hesitantly climbed over the railing and onto the arena.

The spectators murmured, confused about what was happening. Surely Ju-seong would call out the Martial Alliance Leader for teachings?

Ju-seong glanced back at the Martial Alliance Leader briefly. Depending on the person, this could be taken as an insult.

The Martial Alliance Leader didn’t seem to mind at all. Rather, he seemed amused, lifting the corner of his mouth ever so slightly.

Of course, it was barely visible even to Ju-seong’s eyes trained in Celestial Eye.

He turned back and called out.

“This young man is named Namgung Chun-mong! He’s only fifteen, but his aspirations are great and his heart upright, so I took him as my little brother!”

Ju-seong placed his hand on Namgung Chun-mong’s shoulder and continued.

“My little brother says he’ll perform a sword dance for you today, so please watch him well.”

This was his plan. Chun-mong, who couldn’t participate in the Ascending Dragon Assembly due to his uncle’s opposition.

A plan to help him make his name known to the world. This was also why he’d negotiated with Namgung Cheon-u.

Come to think of it, he could see Namgung Cheon-u sitting on the far side of the spectator stands. He was said to never come down from the top floor of Azure Sky Tower.

Namgung Cheon-u’s gaze was fixed directly on Chun-mong.

‘So he does think of him like a son after all.’

Ju-seong thought about people. No matter how hateful someone seemed, they could become hard to despise.

An uncle who’d held his nephew back due to his own paranoia… yet his care for Chun-mong wasn’t a lie.

Beyond the championship, Ju-seong felt a lightness in one corner of his heart. He smiled and spoke.

“Draw your sword, Chun-mong.”

Chun-mong had been hesitating since stepping onto the arena, uncertain. Does someone who fought not a single match in the Ascending Dragon Assembly deserve to stand here?

But those doubts vanished the moment he met Ju-seong’s eyes.

That gaze seemed to say: I called you because you’re a little brother I’m not ashamed to show others.

Chun-mong smiled back and placed his hand on his sword hilt.

“Yes, Brother.”

With the drawing of his sword, a thunderous roar of lightning shook the arena.

It was the moment a successor of the Namgung family made his name known to jianghu.