Chapter 135

Originally, the Murim of Tibet was largely dominated by three Buddhist sects.

They were the Potala Palace in the west, the Heavenly Dragon Temple in the north, and the Grand Thunder Sound Temple in the east.

All three sects had their origins in Buddhism and were like the spiritual pillars of the Tibetan Murim.

Among the three, the one with the most extensive power and influence was the Grand Thunder Sound Temple. As such, it had many Lay Families and branch sects.

The rules of the Grand Thunder Sound Temple were extremely strict. They rigorously applied Buddhist doctrines. They forced their rules not only on their main temple but also on their Lay Family sects.

As they enforced their doctrines without a single exception, dissenters began to emerge. One of them was the Small Thunder Sound Temple.

The Small Thunder Sound Temple opposed the policies of the Grand Thunder Sound Temple, adding the character for “small” to its name. This represented their own will, a “small righteousness” for themselves, rather than the “great righteousness” that the Grand Thunder Sound Temple espoused.

Although its roots lay in the Grand Thunder Sound Temple, the Small Thunder Sound Temple’s path of development was quite different from theirs.

They uniquely interpreted the Martial Arts of the Grand Thunder Sound Temple, which were based on Buddhist law. They placed no limits on their imagination.

They repeatedly and arbitrarily modified the Martial Arts of the Grand Thunder Sound Temple. In this way, they developed their Martial Arts in a completely different direction from their root, the Grand Thunder Sound Temple. And five hundred years ago, a genius appeared who would completely overturn the perceptual framework of the Tibetan Murim.

He called himself Manbeop (Ten Thousand Laws).

Manbeop was a once-in-a-generation genius.

He completely overhauled the martial arts system of the Small Thunder Sound Temple, which had been nothing more than an offshoot of the Grand Thunder Sound Temple.

There is no need for limits or distinctions between orthodox and unorthodox in learning.

That was his philosophy.

He integrated everything he had learned, based on the Martial Arts of the Grand Thunder Sound Temple. He grafted on all sorts of Evil Arts, Demonic arts, and even strange Curse Arts.

Thus, the Small Thunder Sound Temple’s own unique Martial Arts were perfected.

After Manbeop’s appearance, the positions of the Grand Thunder Sound Temple and the Small Thunder Sound Temple changed drastically. The Small Thunder Sound Temple began to overwhelm the Grand Thunder Sound Temple.

The Small Thunder Sound Temple tormented the Grand Thunder Sound Temple using cruel Martial Arts and various Evil arts that could hardly be considered Buddhist.

The Grand Thunder Sound Temple rallied and responded, but they were no match for the Small Thunder Sound Temple led by Manbeop.

The Grand Thunder Sound Temple was thoroughly trampled by the Small Thunder Sound Temple and eventually met its demise.

The Small Thunder Sound Temple thus became the new hegemon of the Tibetan Murim.

After annihilating the Grand Thunder Sound Temple, no rival appeared.

The Potala Palace and the Heavenly Dragon Temple were too far away, their territories didn’t overlap, so there was no reason for them to clash.

For hundreds of years, the Small Thunder Sound Temple became the undisputed ruler of the region, exerting its influence over all of Tibet.

As a result, the monks of the Small Thunder Sound Temple were extremely arrogant.

They were conceited, wondering who would dare challenge them.

In fact, for hundreds of years, no one had dared to challenge the Small Thunder Sound Temple. Even the Potala Palace and the Heavenly Dragon Temple feared them, observing from a distance.

The Martial Arts of the Mara Blood Monks, the main force of the Small Thunder Sound Temple, were truly powerful. Their strength was formidable enough to annihilate any ordinary sect in the Jianghu overnight.

The Small Thunder Sound Temple did not only have Mara Blood Monks. There were others who, although slightly inferior in Martial Arts to the Mara Blood Monks, had undergone special Training and were skilled in tracking.

They were called the Mad Blood Monks.

When a Mad Blood Monk tracked and clung to their prey, the Mara Blood Monks would be dispatched to subdue it. This was the Small Thunder Sound Temple’s unfailing, victorious method, passed down for hundreds of years.

The number of Mad Blood Monks was thirty in total.

Although their number was only a tenth of the Mara Blood Monks, their individual abilities were not far behind.

The Mad Blood Monks scattered throughout the Southern Wood Forest, searching for any possible intruders.

Although they were familiar with the terrain, having been born and raised in the Southern Wood Forest, wandering through the dense woods was by no means an easy task.

Furthermore, Formations were laid out in the Southern Wood Forest.

The Formations were impartial to everyone. A single misstep could cause even them to be swept up in various Formations and suffer, so they had to be on high alert.

After wandering the Southern Wood Forest like this for several days, the minds and bodies of the Mad Blood Monks were utterly exhausted.

Takmok, the leader of the Mad Blood Monks, spoke.

“I don’t think there’s any point in searching the Southern Wood Forest any further. If that bastard had entered here, he would have been found by now. It seems Heuk Am’s information was wrong.”

“I knew it. He’s always acting so high and mighty…”

“He comes running back with his tail between his legs and spouts nonsense. You really can’t trust those loner bastards.”

As if on cue, the Mad Blood Monks voiced their complaints.

Heuk Am never socialized with anyone and lived absorbed in his own world.

Part of the reason was that others avoided him due to his trait of toying with people’s minds, but more importantly, Heuk Am looked down on and ostracized others.

Because of this, almost no one in the Small Thunder Sound Temple liked Heuk Am.

The Mad Blood Monks were no different.

They fumed, claiming they had been played by Heuk Am’s false information. Their anger was even greater because they had suffered for the past few days without proper rest.

In the end, the Mad Blood Monks returned to the Small Thunder Sound Temple with no results.

Their leader, Takmok, went to the Blood Buddha’s residence to report, while the rest dispersed and returned to their respective quarters.

Jeongmok, a member of the Mad Blood Monks, also returned to his quarters and took off his clothes. His entire body was covered in small scratches. They were scrapes from tree branches.

“What a pain in the ass, all because of that gloomy bastard.”

He grumbled and lay down on his bed.

Jeongmok’s eyes, which had been staring blankly at the ceiling, suddenly widened.

Someone was hanging upside down from the ceiling, looking down at him.

A deathly pale face and eyes tinged with Crimson Light were particularly vivid.

Jeongmok blinked.

The scene was so bizarre that his brain’s recognition was delayed.

In that instant, the man hanging from the ceiling descended without a sound and stood before Jeongmok.

Only then did Jeongmok realize something was wrong and try to shout.

Puk!

At that moment, an formless Qi emitted by the man struck his Paralysis Blood Point.

“Keuk!”

Jeongmok’s eyes shot wide open.

His whole body was paralyzed and he couldn’t move.

Jeongmok desperately tried to circulate his Internal Energy to release the Paralysis Blood Point. But no matter how hard he tried, his stiffened body would not loosen.

The only things he could move were his eyelids and his pupils.

Jeongmok’s pupils darted left and right in confusion.

He desperately tried to understand the situation he was in.

‘It’s that Assassin. Heuk Am was telling the truth.’

Only then did he realize that Heuk Am’s words were true, but it was already too late.

While Jeongmok and the Mad Blood Monks were out searching for him, Pyo Wol had been staying here, gathering information about the Small Thunder Sound Temple.

He investigated the structure of the Small Thunder Sound Temple, its leadership, and its other personnel.

He couldn’t gather a lot of information on his own. Still, it was enough to grasp how the Small Thunder Sound Temple was structured and how it operated.

Every organization had a weakness.

Perfection did not exist in the world, and the Small Thunder Sound Temple was no exception.

The Small Thunder Sound Temple, which looked like a solid fortress, definitely had its weaknesses.

One of the weaknesses Pyo Wol identified was the Mad Blood Monks.

The number of Mad Blood Monks was very small, so the Small Thunder Sound Temple managed them specially. The proof was that when they had no missions, their lives were not interfered with much.

They could be cooped up in a small room for days without anyone paying them any mind.

To the Small Thunder Sound Temple, this was a way of caring for the Mad Blood Monks, but to Pyo Wol, it looked like a crack.

Jeongmok stared up at Pyo Wol with wide eyes. And Pyo Wol looked down at Jeongmok indifferently.

‘Who the hell are you? What are you going to do to me?’

Jeongmok screamed internally.

He had never dreamed he would be subdued so easily.

The whole process was so natural it felt like a dream.

Jeongmok thought Pyo Wol was observing him. Pyo Wol was looking at Jeongmok with the same gaze a child would use to observe a newly caught grasshopper or dragonfly.

‘You bastard! Let me go this instant.’

A vein bulged on Jeongmok’s neck.

If only his vocal cords weren’t paralyzed, he would have let out a roar. But unfortunately, his voice only swirled inside his mouth.

At some point, Pyo Wol nodded his head.

In that instant, Jeongmok felt a chill.

An ominous premonition washed over him.

Pyo Wol’s nod felt as if it were pronouncing the end of his life.

Tuduk!

At that moment, Pyo Wol’s face began to change little by little.

“Ugh!”

Jeongmok, who had confirmed Pyo Wol’s face, struggled. It was because it looked exactly like his own face.

It was like looking in a mirror.

Pyo Wol, who had stolen Jeongmok’s face in an instant, briefly opened his mouth wide or widened his eyes to correct any awkward parts.

A moment later, Pyo Wol’s face had perfectly become Jeongmok’s.

Jeongmok stared at Pyo Wol with wide-open eyes.

Goosebumps covered his entire body.

The very fact that a face identical to his own was staring at him with an indifferent expression filled him with extreme fear.

Pyo Wol took out a Flying Dagger and plunged it into Jeongmok’s heart.

The sharp Flying Dagger dug into the flesh without a sound. And it pierced his heart.

Jeongmok’s vision blurred in an instant.

‘Ah… gh… ghost…’

The last thing he saw before his breath was cut off was his own face, devoid of any emotion.

Once Jeongmok’s breath had completely stopped, Pyo Wol retrieved the Ghostly Rain that was embedded in his chest.

Although he had killed Jeongmok, there was no trace of guilt on Pyo Wol’s face.

He hid Jeongmok’s body under the bed and put on a fur hat.

Completely covering his head with the hat, he went outside.

Several people passed by, but no one suspected Pyo Wol.

It was because Pyo Wol was imitating Jeongmok so naturally.

Not only was his face the same, but even his aura and gaze were similar, so no one thought anything was strange.

The place Pyo Wol headed for was called the Ten Thousand Dharma Hall.

It was a place built to honor Manbeop, who had led the revival of the Small Thunder Sound Temple, and inside, various monks were either carrying on the Secret Transmissions of their predecessors or researching their own unique skills.

The Ten Thousand Dharma Hall was truly the real power of the Small Thunder Sound Temple.

The research conducted here was applied to the Mara Blood Monks, thereby increasing their overall strength.

Heuk Am’s residence was also in a corner of the Ten Thousand Dharma Hall.

Here, he dissected the heads of kidnapped people to research methods of subduing the mind.

Pyo Wol had found out this fact while lurking in the Small Thunder Sound Temple for the past few days.

The security was so tight that it was impossible to get inside through ordinary means. That’s why Pyo Wol had waited for the Mad Blood Monks to return.

He had figured out that the Mad Blood Monks could freely enter and exit all the facilities of the Small Thunder Sound Temple.

“Who is it? Senior Martial Brother Jeongmok?”

A Martial Artist guarding the Ten Thousand Dharma Hall recognized Jeongmok’s face.

Pyo Wol said nonchalantly.

“Anything unusual?”

“Nothing to report.”

“What about the Assassin?”

“Do you think that Assassin would be crazy enough to come all the way here? Don’t worry and go inside.”

“Good work!”

“Yes! Senior Martial Brother.”

The Martial Artist opened the door for Pyo Wol without any suspicion.

Pyo Wol calmly passed through the door and entered the Ten Thousand Dharma Hall.

The scale of the Ten Thousand Dharma Hall was truly immense.

The huge great hall was divided into several sections.

Monks, including Heuk Am, freely researched their Secret Transmissions within their own sections.

Pyo Wol looked around the interior of the Ten Thousand Dharma Hall and took a deep breath through his nose. He was trying to gather information through smell.

Pyo Wol suddenly wrinkled his nose.

He had smelled a foul odor seeping into the air.

The stench, so vile it made his head throb, was definitely not ordinary.

‘Poison?’

Poison Qi was leaking from somewhere in here.

It was such a minuscule amount that the monks didn’t notice it, but it couldn’t fool someone with senses as keen as Pyo Wol’s.

Pyo Wol searched for the source of the Poison Qi. After searching for a long time, he found a passage leading to the basement.

The Poison Qi was flowing out from the underground passage.

Pyo Wol opened the door without hesitation and went inside.

Torches were hung sparsely in the dark underground passage.

After walking for a while, a huge underground space appeared.

The vast, naturally formed space reminded Pyo Wol of the underground cavern where he had learned his Killing Method.

Several monks were bustling about the underground cavern.

They were deep in thought about something with serious expressions.

Even though a stranger named Pyo Wol had entered, no one paid him any mind.

Among them, what caught Pyo Wol’s attention was an old monk carefully handling a large porcelain jar.

The old monk’s face was covered in liver spots, and the tips of his fingernails were discolored.

Pyo Wol knew that the bodies of those who handled poisons were deformed like that.

The owner of the Poison Qi that Pyo Wol had smelled was that old monk.

To be precise, the Poison Qi was flowing out of the porcelain jar he was holding. Although it was tightly sealed, the poison was so potent that a little of its Qi was seeping out.

“Hehe!”

The old monk was laughing sinisterly.

He had combined numerous poisons to create a completely new form of poison.

“One drop of this poison will be enough to kill ten grown men. If I offer it to the Dharma Master, he will surely praise me greatly.”

At that moment, as if on cue, an unfamiliar voice was heard.

“That looks useful.”