Chapter 345: Potala Palace, Dalai Lama (1)

“Cough! Cough!”

The Divine Monk coughed violently.

It was a fierce cough, as if he were about to vomit out his very intestines.

Even though Hyun Cheok had infused him with Prajna True Qi, the Divine Monk still suffered.

“The air… is thin. Cough!”

Perhaps it was due to the clear air of the Tibetan Plateau.

The Divine Monk struggled to breathe.

After coughing for a long while, he spat out phlegm mixed with blood.

Only then did the Divine Monk finally stop coughing.

With a voice on the verge of death, the Divine Monk made a request to Gal Dong-tak, “The door… the window… open it.”

“The air is quite cold.”

“Open it.”

Gal Dong-tak hesitated for a moment before placing another blanket over the Divine Monk.

Only then did he open the window.

“…It’s a little better now.”

As the cold wind entered, he must have felt a bit refreshed.

Rangachen Village was quiet.

Since Yi-gang was handling all matters here, the Divine Monk and the others were resting at the village chief’s house.

The villagers had also climbed the mountain, saying they would hold a ritual for the dragon.

“Do you really think a dragon exists?” Gal Dong-tak asked.

They had just witnessed the true nature of Fire Dragon at Wangjia Village.

It was hard to believe that a dragon could exist in such a remote area.

However, they had seen something undeniable, leaving them uncertain.

“Well… I do not know either,” the Divine Monk answered.

Whether a dragon truly existed was uncertain.

He was simply grateful that his mind remained clear.

His head felt sharp. Strangely, it felt even clearer than when his body was in perfect condition.

He thought it might be due to the cold and pure air of the Tibetan Plateau, but that did not seem to be the only reason.

The movement of the stars in the night sky appeared crystal clear, and when he slept, he had dreams that seemed to be prophetic visions.

‘The more I empty myself, the more I gain.’

The Divine Monk felt that their journey carried an immense purpose.

No, rather than a purpose, it might be more fitting to call it fate.

Like the constellations of the Celestial Palace carrying the stars, the Divine Monk was burning away his remaining lifespan to steer the carriage of fate.

It was something joyous and something to be grateful for.

“Huh? It looks like everyone is coming back.”

At Gal Dong-tak’s words, the Divine Monk looked out the window.

The villagers who had climbed the mountain were returning.

Thinking that Yi-gang must have returned with them, the Divine Monk squinted his eyes, but Yi-gang was nowhere to be seen among the returning people.

“Why isn’t that rascal Yi-gang coming back…?”

“I’m not sure.”

Moreover, the faces of the villagers were all filled with terror.

Their faces were pale, and some had even wet their pants, likely out of fear.

They acted just like frightened people would.

Each one hurried back to their homes and slammed their doors shut.

Even the village chief’s family was no exception.

Gal Dong-tak murmured, “Looks like something really happened up there.”

“Well… who knows.”

The Divine Monk chuckled at first, but then his expression hardened.

On the mountain where Yi-gang had gone, something was beginning to change.

“The sky…”

The sky above the plateau had been completely clear, without a single cloud.

But now, gray clouds were billowing up around the mountain’s peak.

The clouds expanded with terrifying momentum.

It was fundamentally different from the rain summoning spell, which gathered existing clouds in one place to create temporary rain.

And then, the clouds that had blanketed the sky began to pour rain.

“It’s raining.”

“So it is.”

The rain began suddenly.

What started as a drizzle soon became stronger.

In the end, it turned into a torrential downpour.

It didn’t take long before it became a thunderstorm, with lightning striking down.

Despite the rough weather, the Divine Monk smiled.

The power to make rain fall from a clear sky was not something one could witness often.

He did not know for certain if what was up there was truly the White Dragon. But—

“It seems there really is a dragon.”

“I-it does seem that way…”

Gal Dong-tak was also amazed by this mysterious phenomenon.

Yi-gang returned only after the rain had stopped.

He was completely soaked, carrying a fox in one hand.

“It’s cold.”

“Dry yourself by the fire.”

Yi-gang sat by the fire and used a dry towel to dry Cheongho ’s fur.

Following behind him, Dam Hyun hesitantly entered.

“Who are you?”

When the Divine Monk asked, Dam Hyun shyly responded, “I’m Dam Hyun.”

Tsering sniffled, her nose running.

“Huu… Hiiing.”

By the very next day, Yi-gang’s group was set to depart.

Perhaps because they had bonded in such a short time, the child’s emotions were deeply affected.

“Take me with you too… Hiiing.”

Tsering buried her face into Yi-gang’s robe.

It was certain that both snot and tears would stain his robe.

“No.”

“Hueeeng!”

When Yi-gang spoke bluntly, Gal Dong-tak made a weary expression.

But no matter how much Tsering cried and clung, it was useless.

Yi-gang was heading to Potala Palace because he had received a plea for help from the Dalai Lama.

Potala Palace was also a powerful sect beyond the Great Wall.

For them to send a letter to Shaolin and the Divine Monk asking for aid, it meant that a serious problem had arisen.

There was a high chance that blood would be shed there, and he could not afford to take a young child along.

Perhaps Tsering understood this in her heart.

She stopped crying and clinging to Yi-gang.

Instead, Tsering pulled something out from her pocket.

Then, taking Yi-gang’s pale hand, she tied something around his pinky finger.

It was a red string. Dyed with something unknown, but a beautiful shade of crimson.

With her tiny hands, she tied the knot with great effort, and the method she used was quite unique.

“…What is this?”

“It’s a promise.”

“What kind?”

“A knot of magic that lets us meet again.”

The Divine Monk let out a hearty laugh.

“Haha! How adorable. So, so cute. Hehehe.”

Gal Dong-tak also laughed along.

He held out his hand, as if asking Tsering to tie one for him as well, but Tsering completely ignored him.

“We’ll meet again.”

“Alright, let’s do that.”

Whether they truly would meet again was uncertain, but it was an undeniably endearing gesture.

“Let’s go.”

Yi-gang mounted his horse.

Their group obtained supplies from the village chief’s family.

They borrowed a sturdy yak to pull their load and even managed to get a cart for the yak to pull.

The Divine Monk sat in the cushioned cart, wrapped in a thick blanket.

“Village Chief.”

Yi-gang spoke as he looked at the village chief, who had come to see them off along with Tsering.

The village chief flinched in surprise and raised his head.

Because of what had happened last time, he now regarded Yi-gang with both fear and reverence.

“Y-yes…”

“That yokai didn’t answer the rain ritual and bring down rain. It merely pulled up the water stored in the Dragon Pond and made it fall like rain.”

Bodhidharma had consumed and digested the eel yokai’s internal elixir.

Surprisingly, he had gained a portion of the eel yokai’s mystical abilities.

「So it was just an illusion.」

The eel yokai had not actually acquired the powers of a dragon.

It could only manipulate the water from the Dragon Pond, where it had lived for centuries, and the waters of this mountain.

“All it did was return the water to the ground as rain, water that would have seeped into the earth soon anyway. It wasn’t really much of a blessing.”

“T-that can’t be…”

The village chief’s face was filled with shock.

It was difficult for him to accept Yi-gang’s words.

“So the human sacrifices you performed were meaningless. You were merely feeding your own people to the yokai, fattening its belly.”

But Yi-gang didn’t seem to care whether the village chief believed him or not.

The village chief’s eyes trembled violently.

“Repent and reflect on your actions. And raise the children properly. With the extra one nyang of gold I’m giving you, you should have no trouble taking care of Tsering and the other orphans.”

“…Yes.”

“I will return.”

The village chief flinched in shock.

Whether Yi-gang would truly return was uncertain. But at the very least, the village chief would have no choice but to believe he would.

“A-all right.”

Yi-gang nodded and turned his horse.

Toward the south.

“Goodbye!”

Tsering could be seen in the distance, waving her hand.

And so, they set off for Potala Palace, toward Lhasa, where the Dalai Lama awaited them.

Potala Palace—

In Tibet, there existed a mountain called Red Mountain.

It stood tall among the deep valleys of Lhasa, the most populous area in Tibet.

Lhasa itself was a high-altitude land, with even its plains being as elevated as Changbai Mountain at the eastern edge.

And atop the towering Red Mountain stood Potala Palace.

No one knew exactly when this palace was built.

The massive palace sprawled across the mountain. Its east-west length measured 200 zhang, while its north-south length was 150 zhang.

It contained 999 rooms and stood 15 stories high.

Its enormous pillars were cast in copper, and three layers of defensive walls surrounded it.

In front of the grand structure stretched a vast and pristine lake.

The people of the Central Plains often looked down upon Tibet, dismissing its people as barbarians or primitives. But if they ever saw Potala Palace in person, they would never dare to utter such arrogant words.

In some ways, Potala Palace held a majesty that surpassed even the Forbidden City.

Among the three palace sections within Potala Palace, the one in the center was the Red Palace.

Built from red bricks, its central hall had a towering ceiling.

Numerous lama monks in crimson robes gathered inside the grand hall.

There were also young novice monks present, their shaved heads gleaming as they laughed and chatted.

“Hehehe.”

“Let’s do it again!”

Their conversation soon turned into playful hand games.

As the young novice monks played, their hands suddenly expanded in an instant.

It was the Mahamudra of Vajrayana.

As their massive hands collided, a dull, resounding noise echoed through the hall.

Kwaaang—! Kwak—!

An elderly lama monk furrowed his brows for a moment and spoke.

“Quiet.”

The young lama monks did not respond and continued their hand game.

The silence of the palace was completely shattered.

Eventually, the elderly lama monk rose from his seat.

He seemed ready to let out a thunderous roar and strike the novice monks on their backsides.

But what came out of the old lama’s mouth was unexpected.

“Senior brothers! Please be a little quieter.”

“Aish, but we’re bored.”

A young monk with red birthmarks spoke informally, as if it were natural.

At first glance, he seemed like an ill-mannered child, but the novice across from him was the same.

“So, are you saying it doesn’t matter if we die of boredom?”

“That’s not it. The Dalai Lama is currently in Great Meditation. He is reading the heavenly sign, and if you disturb him…”

It was now clear that these two novice monks were not ordinary novice monks.

The fact that the Elder Lama spoke to them with honorifics, and that these two children could easily perform the Mahamudra of Vajrayana, the pinnacle of Tibet martial arts, further supported this notion.

“Is the heavenly sign really so noisy that he can’t read it? He’s been at this for days already.”

Inside the Grand Hall, where the lama monks sat in meditation, stood an iron door.

Beyond that door, only the Dalai Lama and the Panchen Lama resided.

Through Great Meditation, the Dalai Lama was manifesting the Six Divine Powers.

The Elder Lama looked troubled, as his fellow monks were disrupting such an important ritual.

“Even so…”

“And besides, it seems like this long meditation has finally ended.”

The young lama’s eyes gleamed with clarity.

And at that very moment, the iron door creaked open.

From within, the Panchen Lama’s voice rang out.

He was announcing the revelation the Dalai Lama had received from the heavenly sign.

“The Mad Wind Society is invading the Great Desert!”

At those words, the most revered lama monks, those recognized as Rinpoches and Tulkus, stood before the iron door and echoed the Panchen Lama’s declaration.

Then, the young lama monks, along with the others, chanted in unison.

“Five hundred forty-seven will die, and two hundred thirty-four will be wounded!”

The future read by the Dalai Lama echoed throughout the palace.

The young novice monks attending the ceremony trembled in terror.

“Two thousand four hundred sixty will perish, and rivers of blood will flow! Namtso Lake will be dyed crimson!”

Never before had the Dalai Lama’s prophecies been this cruel.

Yet, the lama monks recited the prophecy mechanically, without the slightest change in expression.

However, the prophecy did not contain only despair.

“A noble one will come from the east. A Buddha and a Rinpoche will arrive!”

At that precise moment—

Yi-gang and his companions arrived at the entrance of Potala Palace.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep