Namgung Clan’s Great Sage, Heaven’s Equal

12. How Do You Know My Dharma Name?

White steam rose in wisps from the cold corpse.

Sun Wukong’s eyes grew steadily redder—blood-red, burning like molten lava. The world of the Flaming Golden Eyes opened before him.

A world beyond mere imagination.

As the body lost its vitality, the soul hidden within began to stir.

It was then.

Suddenly, Sun Wukong glared into empty air, baring his fangs with a growl.

"Get lost."

There was nothing but fierce wind and rain in the void.

Yet Sun Wukong glared as if someone had truly appeared.

His eyes, cold and violent, were nothing like the mischievous ones from before.

These were the eyes of a savage Great Demon, filled with a cruelty that looked ready to devour anything whole.

A faint trace of the Great Demon Sun Wukong, who had vanished after the Tianzhu pilgrimage, flickered to life.

"Will you drag this wretch to hell, or put him on trial again and send him back through reincarnation?"

A soul steeped in evil karma either goes to hell or is forced to atone through endless cycles of reincarnation.

It might live as a lowly beast, a worm, or, if it shows signs of redemption, be reborn as a human.

Such things are decided in the courts of the afterlife.

But Sun Wukong scoffed.

"Look at what happens when you reincarnate a wicked demon as a human. Does this serpent’s soul look clean to you?"

So, he could not trust them.

"Tell your superior, King Yama, that I’ll handle this one myself."

Sun Wukong bared his teeth once more.

Time passed.

Eventually, Sun Wukong let out a small laugh, the tension fading from his body.

"Those underworld reapers these days have no guts, none at all."

Back when he stormed the underworld, the reapers at least had the nerve to put up a fight. But these days? Tsk.

Shaking off such idle thoughts, Sun Wukong reached out his hand.

His hand thrust into the world beyond imagination, where physical force held no sway.

He seized the writhing serpent in his grasp.

Sun Wukong glared and spat out:

"You’re not even worth the pain of hell. As the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, as the Victorious Fighting Buddha who sees all creation, I command you."

His grip tightened. The serpent swelled as if it would burst.

A tortured, piercing wail seemed to echo faintly.

In a chilling voice, as if pronouncing judgment on behalf of the underworld, Sun Wukong declared,

"Vanish."

Crackle.

The serpent’s soul faded away like dust.

When even the trace of it in his palm disappeared, the red glow left his eyes.

Now, only the cold corpse remained. An empty shell.

Sun Wukong let out a sigh.

A surge of pain.

"Kh!"

A mouthful of bright red blood spilled from his lips.

Wiping his mouth, Sun Wukong grimaced.

"Damn, using power is no joke."

Since descending to the Mortal World, the most he’d done was use the Flaming Golden Eyes to peer beyond the surface and engage in some physical brawling.

But just now, Sun Wukong had used the power of the heavens.

He had erased a soul that had lost its body.

The backlash swept over him belatedly, wracking his entire body with agony and chills. Sun Wukong’s brow furrowed. It had been a long time since he’d felt anything like this.

Only now did Sun Wukong truly realize he was no longer the fearsome Great Sage of the Heavenly Realm, but a being whose power was restricted and cast down to the Mortal World.

"Well, at least it’s not enough to kill me."

If anyone from the Heavenly Realm were present, they would have fainted in shock.

Manifesting in the Mortal World was nearly impossible, and yet, by the will of Shakyamuni Buddha, he had used even a portion of his restricted power.

He should be suffering pain enough to destroy his body, but Sun Wukong stood firm.

As if nothing was wrong.

…Ah, this really hurts like hell.

"Hey! Guanyin Bodhisattva, you old rascal! You give me this much pain just for using a bit of power? I swear—!"

Annoyed, Sun Wukong shouted at the top of his lungs.

Only after venting his frustration for a while did he finally calm down and turn his gaze.

His face twisted in displeasure.

"What the…?"

Namgung Jeok was throwing a dagger into the water. Blood spread across the surface.

"Huh? That’s not what I expected…"

Sun Wukong scratched his chin.

He’d given Narrow-Eyed a dangerous task, but it wasn’t reckless.

Sun Wukong had calculated everything.

If his assumptions were correct, it should be enough to draw their attention and avoid capture.

At least, if it was in the water.

"Could it be, it’s not the one I thought?"

Or maybe those Namgung Clan martial artists were stronger than he’d expected.

Sun Wukong sighed, gritting his teeth against the pain as he stood.

In truth, it was hard even to take a step, but he forced himself to act as if nothing was wrong.

Mere physical pain couldn’t stop him.

He was Sun Wukong, who had grown used to the agony of the Golden Headband constricting his mind.

"Still, we’re bound by the String of Karma. I can’t just let him die."

As Sun Wukong prepared to leap from the boat—

"Hmm?"

A faint smile appeared on his lips.

The boat carrying the two Namgung Clan martial artists shattered from the bottom up.

Namgung Jeok and Namgung Seon leapt up in shock, barely landing on the splintered wreckage.

Beneath them, Narrow-Eyed’s face suddenly burst from the dark water.

His eyes blazed with fury.

*

"Gah!"

Blood spread through the black river.

"Got him!"

Namgung Jeok shouted. Namgung Seon immediately dove in, hauling up the man with a dagger in his shoulder, writhing in pain.

His eyes were narrow and triangular—Narrow-Eyed, with a face that looked anything but friendly.

"Are you one of Blood-Iron Fiend’s subordinates?"

Namgung Jeok asked coldly, pressing his sword forward.

Having swallowed a mouthful of water when struck by the dagger, Narrow-Eyed struggled to regain his senses.

When he didn’t answer, Namgung Jeok clicked his tongue and swung his sword.

Crack!

At that moment, the boat, already filling with water and sinking, suddenly split apart.

Namgung Jeok and Namgung Seon reacted instantly.

They leapt up, quickly scanning their surroundings, landing on the broken planks.

Even amidst the churning waves, they kept their balance.

Truly worthy of the Namgung Clan. But Namgung Jeok couldn’t afford to be proud. Amidst the wreckage, a head burst from the water.

Eyes blazing with fury.

"You did that to my brother?"

"There’s another one?"

Namgung Jeok didn’t panic, swinging his sword.

A surge of Internal Qi sent a blade of energy flying.

Slash!

But the sword wind only split the river, sending up a spray of water, never touching Narrow-Eyed.

A look of tension crossed Namgung Jeok’s face.

‘No presence…’

Narrow-Eyed, hiding beneath the water, was like a ghost.

There was no presence where there should have been.

It wasn’t just the wind and waves masking him.

Namgung Jeok knew instinctively.

‘His movements underwater are extraordinary.’

His eyes trembled.

From the opposite side, Namgung Seon, standing on a plank, spoke.

"Let’s wait, senior brother. He’ll have to surface for air eventually."

The source of Internal Qi was breath itself.

It was only natural that cultivating Internal Qi relied on breathing.

In other words, using Internal Qi required breath.

All martial cultivation methods in the world were the same.

A martial artist would have to surface for air eventually.

But their expectations were soon shattered.

He didn’t surface for quite some time.

‘Did he disappear?’

No. Their senses were clear—he was still lurking beneath the surface, circling like a shark waiting for prey in the vast sea.

Then—

Crash!

"Ugh!"

On the other side, Namgung Seon leapt up in fright. Suddenly, a blade shot up from beneath the plank, stabbing between his legs. He dodged quickly, but Namgung Jeok’s face went pale.

Whoosh!

"Junior brother!"

Namgung Jeok cried out. The one who stabbed was Heo Cho.

The real threat came with the second attack.

While Namgung Seon was airborne, a hand shot out, withdrawing the blade and reaching for him.

"Now!"

Namgung Jeok moved like lightning. Narrow-Eyed revealed himself fully.

But Narrow-Eyed was faster.

Grab!

He seized Namgung Seon’s ankle and dragged him back underwater.

Namgung Jeok sent a blade of energy after them, but it only grazed the skin, splitting it and drawing blood, but not a fatal wound.

"Damn!"

Namgung Jeok cursed. The black river swallowed Namgung Seon whole.

"Seon! Seon!"

No matter how skilled, if water fills the lungs, death follows. Namgung Jeok’s eyes reddened as he screamed desperately. How much time passed? At last, the water churned, and Namgung Seon barely managed to crawl onto a plank, only his upper body emerging.

"Cough!"

He coughed violently, clearly exhausted.

"Are you all right?"

"That guy… he moves too freely underwater."

"…"

Namgung Jeok’s face grew grim.

This kind of fight… he’d heard of it before.

‘River bandits…’

River bandits weren’t known for their martial prowess. Some were decent, but most were weak. Yet martial artists dreaded facing them.

Specifically, river bandits on the water.

Even a Martial Master, if forced underwater and deprived of breath, couldn’t use their full strength.

Namgung Seon’s current state was proof. Only someone of his level could have escaped from that water.

River bandits fought like this against top experts. Dozens would swarm, dragging their foes into the water. Even if one, two, or four were cut down, the rest would throw themselves in. Once a Martial Master was in the water, dozens would swarm with nets and blades, overwhelming them.

That’s why even Martial Masters paid the toll when encountering river bandits on the water.

‘Damn. This won’t be easy.’

His eyes twitched with tension. The boat’s wreckage—if that guy destroyed even these planks, leaving nowhere to stand…

You needed something to stand on.

‘Blood-Iron Fiend’s boat!’

Namgung Jeok turned quickly.

It was a small boat, but enough to take shelter on. And on it—

‘Who?’

A strange man with golden hair stood there.

When their eyes met, the man drew a wide arc with his gaze and raised his hand.

"Hey, why don’t we stop fighting? Looks like you’re after Blood-Iron Fiend too, aren’t you?"

He lifted the limp corpse of Blood-Iron Fiend as he spoke.

Namgung Jeok’s eyes trembled.

"Who are you?"

"Seems like you’ve got a grudge against this guy too, right? Me and my friend over there also have a score to settle. But when I saw you sticking close to this boat, I thought you were on the same side. My mistake!"

"…Are you with the guy in the water?"

"Ah, he’s like a brother to me."

Namgung Jeok didn’t let his guard down. The man had killed Blood-Iron Fiend without a sound. Even if all his attention had been on Narrow-Eyed in the water…

To deal with Blood-Iron Fiend in that short time?

He was no ordinary person. Caution was only natural. And the presence of Narrow-Eyed, still moving underwater, was an added nuisance.

Sun Wukong, watching, let out a chuckle.

"It won’t be easy. In the water, there’s no one in the world who can match him—at least, that’s my prediction."

Namgung Jeok’s face grew complicated.

Maybe on land, but…

With such unpredictable movement underwater, Sun Wukong’s words didn’t sound like a boast.

Still, he couldn’t lower his sword.

As long as that guy was in the water, he couldn’t relax.

Sun Wukong chuckled and called out.

"Let’s stop fighting now."

"Great Hero, please stay back. That guy did this to my brother!"

Narrow-Eyed’s shoulder was mangled beyond recognition.

Narrow-Eyed, who had once trembled at the thought of facing the Namgung Clan, now burned with rage.

Sun Wukong snickered.

"Look at you, a bandit talking about loyalty."

He waved his hand dismissively.

"Don’t worry about his shoulder. I’ll take responsibility and make sure it’s as good as new."

Even a skilled physician would find that difficult.

Yet, somehow, Sun Wukong’s unwavering tone inspired trust in Narrow-Eyed.

But seeing his brother-figure, Narrow-Eyed, hurt like that, he couldn’t easily swallow his anger.

But then, in a single instant, confusion overtook his fury.

At the sound of Sun Wukong’s voice in his ear, Narrow-Eyed shuddered as if struck by lightning.

"So let’s stop now, Wujing."

Narrow-Eyed’s head turned slowly.

His face was full of disbelief.

With a trembling voice, he barely managed to speak.

"…How do you know my Dharma name from my days at Shaolin?"

His eyes were clouded with confusion.

Sun Wukong grinned.

"I’ve known you since your previous life, you fool."

How could he forget that name?

Wujing, Wujing, my brother who journeyed with me through asceticism.

Sha Wujing.

As he looked at the bewildered face of Narrow-Eyed—no, Sha Wujing—Sun Wukong burst into laughter.