Chapter 1594: Even The Buddha Has Abandoned You (Part 4)

Trembling legs took another step forward, despite the shivering.

The battered body, nearing its limits, continued forward with unwavering determination. Though the physical form was on the brink of collapse, the spirit clung to the will to move forward.

Thud.

Step by step, even slower than an ordinary person's pace. Despite the imminent threat of collapse, the relentless march continued. With the burden of Beopjeong on the back.

This was the last choice that Beopgye could make.

However, this choice led to Beopjeong carried on Beopgye's back suffering through a living hell.

"Ahhhhhhhh!"

Somewhere, another voice cried out in agonizing pain. It was a familiar voice. Beopjeong trembled faintly.

Another life. Another despair. And another...

"Beop...gye..."

He wished he could lose consciousness.

It would be better than enduring this agony, even more so than being stabbed through with a sword. He wouldn't have to hear the sound of his disciples dying to save him.

What meaning was there in saving him now? He had already lost everything. In this world, a life worse than death was not uncommon. At least for the current Beopjeong, the remaining life was just that.

But this heavenly punishment tore apart the flesh, leaving consciousness vividly intact. It was truly a living hell.

"Save me..."

He desperately grabbed the shoulders of Beopgye. Of course, it was a feeble touch with no strength.

"Please, Beopgye..."

Put me down and live.

He couldn't even complete that short sentence. Yet, Beopgye continued to advance, not releasing Beopjeong on his back.

"Beopgye..."

"...Do you remember? Sahyung."

Beopgye wobbled, supporting its feeble legs for another step. The body, almost burnt out like a torch, had a voice as composed as ever.

"In the past... I wanted to escape from Shaolin."

One step. Another step.

Beopgye's voice seemed like a murmur.

"Being naturally dull and stubborn, Shaolin didn't suit me well. I still remember. The sighs of the Sahyungs and the stern gaze of the masters."

"Beopgye..."

"At that time, the one who helped me escape was Sahyung."

The voice seemed as if it would stop at any moment, but it remained unbroken. At least, it was clearly heard by Beopjeong.

"At that time, I still remember the Sahyung's words. Being dull is a unique blessing as a monk. Being dull allows you to focus only on the path of righteousness without being swayed by small temptations. Therefore, one can be considered a virtuous practitioner."

Beopgye's voice becomes slightly clearer. Beopjeong, fully understanding its meaning, could only bury his face in Beopgye's shoulders.

"Do you remember?"

Even if Beopgye could speak properly at that moment, he probably couldn't answer. Because he couldn't remember.

It was a strange story.

What someone considered an unforgettable event in life, someone else treated it as a passing moment.

It was ironic, but not amusing. It was sad.

"At that time... the Sahyung carried the expectations of Shaolin on his shoulders. I was delighted, delighted. That Sahyung could recognize me. Maybe that's why I've been able to endure in Shaolin until now."

What meaning did that have now?

After everything had disappeared.

With the weight of sins piled like a mountain, making even breathing difficult, what meaning did it have?

"Now, I'll tell you...Sahyung"

"..."

"...I hated Sahyung."

Beopgye took another step.

It could be understood.

This wasn't something Beopgye was saying to Beopjeong. Perhaps Beopgye had even forgotten the fact that he was carrying Beopjeong on his shoulders. Without knowing what he was doing, it simply moved forward.

Foolishly and foolishly.

"Sahyung could do anything. Watching, I became too pathetic. That's why I clung to the precepts. It's something even someone as foolish as me can follow if they know it."

"Beopgye..."

"Other than being bound by the precepts, there was nothing else I could do. Sahyung... Sahyung shone too brightly. So I disliked it and... sometimes even resented it. But... now that all that remains in my mind is saving Sahyung, maybe... I liked Sahyung more than I thought..."

A faint, muffled laugh echoed.

The dry hand of Beopjeong, clutching the hem of Beopgye's robe, trembled. He didn't want to hear such words.

"Looking back..."

A blurry smile appeared on the face of Beopgye, which had been filled with pain.

"That... that is fate."

Thud.

Beopgye, with its strength released, collapsed with Beopjeong. But there was no more pain in the physical form.

"Beopgye... Save you..."

Beopjeong's voice came from behind. But Beopgye ignored the faint desperate words and raised its body with a creaking sound, carrying Beopjeong again.

'Where should I go?'

Everywhere his gaze reached was a cliff.

No matter where he went, he would fall and tumble down. There was no avoiding the path of pain.

Nevertheless, Beopgye took another step on that blurry thorny path.

There they would be.

Other connections. Those who became his disciples in the cycle of life. At the end of that truly futile death, what did they recall?

"Ami..."

He couldn't complete the prayer because he simply ran out of strength.

'Do you really watch over me?'

If so, why did you leave so many of them to go there?

A single tear streamed down from Beopgye's wrinkled eyes.

The steps did not stop. He didn't know where he was going. He just kept going because he hadn't run out of strength. Just like the way he had lived until now.

"Bitter Sea (苦海)..."

A murmuring voice was heard.

What was burdened on the back now?

Was he trying to protect him? Or was it hope? Or was it just the groaning of a suffering sentient being? Or perhaps... was it his accumulated karma?

Maybe it was all of that. Consciousness gradually blurred.

"Live..."

Pwa-ah!

At that moment, a dagger flew from behind towards Beopgye's back. Instinctively, Beopgye turned its body to shield Beopjeong.

Thud!

The dagger deeply penetrated Beopgye's body diagonally. The body, covered in blood, flew like a torn streamer. The hem of his robes was cut off, and Beopjeong's body was thrown to the ground.

"...Bastards."

Thud, thud.

True to his name, Jeokho, completely dyed in red, approached dragging a sword. The sound of him sharpening it resonated in the distance, even reaching Beopgye's ears.

"Did you think you could escape?"

Shaolin's disciples truly tenaciously hindered him. Even in death, they grabbed and tore him apart, leaving nothing behind.

The eyes of Jeokho, whose life had skyrocketed, gleamed fiercely.

At that moment, Beopgye's hand pushed Beopjeong's back.

"Go... Sahyung."

"Beopgye..."

"Go!"

"..."

"Absolutely, never forget... Do not forget. You are the leader of Shaolin, not anyone else."

With those words, Beopgye rose to his feet. He didn't wait for Beopjeong's response.

Beopjeong knew that Beopgye had already exhausted his strength.

But Beopjeong had no choice but to leave him.

Beopgye would block Jeokho even if his body was torn to shreds. Every torn piece of flesh would try to defend his path.

Beopjeong grasped the ground with his hands.

He had to go. If he didn't, everything would be in vain. Their deaths would only turn into meaningless deaths.

He scratched the ground, struggling with his body. His legs refused to support him. Even in such moments, his body betrayed his will.

But he must survive. Somehow, he must survive.

Beopjeong gave up trying to stand and crawled forward, clutching the ground.

His appearance was so pitiful that it was hard to imagine him as the stern leader of Shaolin.

As he clutched the ground, his fingernails came off, and his heavy body, struggling to crawl, shook pitifully.

Beopjeong, the leader of Shaolin, begging for his life while clutching the ground. But Beopjeong, with a face covered in blood and tears, somehow managed to crawl forward bit by bit.

"Hu..."

A sob mixed with a bitter laugh came out of the dirt-covered mouth.

What was he trying to grasp in his hands? Obtaining it alone would only be a futile endeavor. Why didn't he know what was more important?

A short shout was heard.

'Beopgye...'

He couldn't turn his gaze. Beopjeong simply pushed the ground with his feet. Tears kept streaming down.

How could you believe?

Why didn't you utter a single word of resentment until the end? Even if he knew that he caused all this. Yet, why did he go without throwing a single cutting word?

How could he go without uttering a single word, releasing the layers of resentment piled up in his heart?

"Hu..."

He must survive.

Thud.

Whether it was an illusion or something else, footsteps approached from somewhere.

But Beopjeong just reached out his hand, amidst the pain that felt like crawling on freezing ice.

'I...'

Now the memories came flooding back. His childhood, a time when curiosity and desire for the world were still full. There was a little junior monk who used to look at him.

He seemed a little naive, a little foolish.

His Saje who would only smile warmly, shy and modest.

'Beopgye...'

After that, the faces of numerous others come to mind. His teacher, his disciples, and his juniors, and... the faces of those he should not have abandoned.

"Eu..."

Beopjeong's trembling hand reached desperately forward.

Now, as if trying to somehow grasp the irrevocable.

Then, abruptly, it dropped weakly downward.

Thud.

However, at the blunt and dulled fingertips, something other than the ground touched.

Beopjeong raised his eyes with difficulty. Something unfamiliar entered his blurred vision.

Beopjeong struggled, raising his head with great effort. And there, he faced someone's gaze.

There was an infinitely cold and quiet anger in that gaze. It was cold like a reprimand, but hot like punishment.

The person who glanced at Beopjeong, who had become speechless and frozen, and slowly walked away.

Towards Jeokho, who had stopped towards Beopjeong.

The one with a sharpened sword slowly spoke.

"Go away. Before I kill you."

At the icy voice, Jeokho's body momentarily stiffened.