武僧 《職業特色》《主動技能》 《被動技能》 《背景介紹》 《短篇小說》
武僧Monk
The last weeks of autumn had settled upon Ivgorod, and the first breath of winter had crept into the air. As night fell and the sun dipped below the horizon, I was all too grateful to take refuge in a tavern. As I entered, I noted a certain tension in the room. Despite the hour, it was not busy, with only scattered, small groups huddled at the tables around the edges of the room. The benches at the center of the room were empty except for one man.
艾夫谷德(Ivgorod)的秋天即將結束，嚴冬的寒意已經快速的滲入空氣中。隨著夜幕到來，太陽早已西下，我十分幸運地在天黑之前找到ㄧ家酒館落腳。然而我一進門，便感覺一股緊張的氣氛。這個時間的客人並不多，只有零散的人群聚集在酒館角落邊的幾張桌子，而酒館中間擺的數張長凳，卻只有一個男人單獨坐在那裡。
The man seemed ignorant
of the cold. He was dressed like a beggar, wearing little more than
an orange sheet wound around his body, leaving half of his chest
exposed. A garland of large wooden beads hung around his thick neck.
His head was completely shaved, with the exception of a wild bushy
beard. Then, recognition struck me: upon his forehead he had a
tattoo of two red dots, one larger than the other. As any informed
student of the peoples and cultures of this world must also realize,
this man was one of the monks of Ivgorod, the secretive and
reclusive holy warriors of the country.
那個男人似乎一點也不怕冷，身上只穿著一條橘色的破布，還露出了半個身子，看起來像個乞丐一樣。而他厚實的脖子上戴著一圈木製的大念珠，是個光頭卻留有濃密的鬍子。接下來看到的，的確使我大吃ㄧ驚：他的前額上有兩個像是紋身的紅點，一大一小。全世界的人都知道，這個人就是艾夫谷德(Ivgorod)其中一個武僧，是個神祕且神聖的戰士。
I had heard countless fantastic stories about the monks, tales that were surely the beneficiary of significant embellishment. The monks’ skin, the accounts said, was as hard as iron, impenetrable by the blade of any sword or by the point of any arrow, and their fists could break stone as easily as you or I would snap a twig. Though the unassuming man before me seemed miles away from what I had heard and read of the monks, I approached cautiously, sliding down onto the bench across from him, eager to take his measure. He beckoned me forward with a small wave of his hand.
我曾聽過許多關於武僧的傳奇故事，當然傳說總是有點誇張。傳說中武僧們的皮膚如鋼鐵一般堅硬，刀劍飛矢都無法傷他們分毫，而他們的拳頭可以輕易的打碎石頭，就跟折斷樹枝一樣容易。雖然在我面前這低調的男人跟我所瞭解的武僧相差甚遠，我還是小心的靠過去，在他對面的長椅坐下，想要仔細的觀察他。這時他對我招了招手。
"Ah, a soul brave enough to sit with me. Come, friend."
"阿，一個靈魂勇敢到敢與我同坐的人。過來吧，朋友。"
Food was placed before
me, but I had little hunger for it, focusing instead on recording
the details of the monk's life. He told me of his belief in the
existence of a thousand and one gods, gods he believed could be
found in all things: the fire in the hearth, the water in the river
and the air that we breathed. Pretty enough for a story, perhaps.
But any reasoned individual must surely, as I did, scoff at such a
view of the world as little more than superstition. He went on to
describe his intense mental and physical training, his unending
quest to hone his mind and body into an instrument of divine
justice. Though I do wonder for what need his thousand gods would
require a mortal man to implement their will. When I asked him why
he did not carry a sword or, indeed, any weapon at all, he simply
replied, "My body is my weapon." Then raising his hand and tapping
his forehead, he added, "As is my mind."
食物擺在我面前，但我卻沒什麼食慾，我反而專注在記錄下這武僧人生的每一個細節。他告訴我他對於一千零一個神的存在的信仰，他相信神存在於萬物：壁爐裡的火燄、河裡流動的水、人們呼吸的空氣。或許，這是個很美的故事。但是對於任何懂道理的人，就像我，都會對於這種迷信般的世界觀嗤之以鼻。那武僧繼續描述他猛烈的心靈和身體訓練，和無止盡的任務，以磨鍊他的軀體成為神祇正義仲裁者。我暗覺奇怪，他所真誠信仰的那一千零一神怎麼會要一個凡人去施行祂們的神意？當我問他，為什麼不帶把劍，或者是任何武器？他僅僅回答：「我的身體就是武器。」然後他把拳頭舉起，拍了一下額頭補充道：「亦如我心」。
Most unexpectedly, I would be treated to a display of this mastery.
出乎我意料的是，我居然有此榮幸見識他對武學的精熟。
A group of men approached our table, knocking my book to the floor and shoving me out of the way, producing knives and other weapons as they advanced. They were focused only on the solitary figure of the monk seated across from me. I scrabbled beneath the table, having an inkling of what was to come. I watched as at some unseen signal, they attacked.
一群人拿著刀和各式武器接近我們的桌子，把我像隻小雞一樣拎起甩到一邊。這群人的目標看來是那位武僧。我爬到桌子底下，心底感覺到將有什麼事情要發生了。這群人好像收到什麼看不見的訊號一般，突然同時發動攻擊。
Without rising from his seat, the monk met the first man's lunging slash, grabbing his wrist and tossing him carelessly over his shoulder, throwing him into a table with a loud crash. The suddenness of the monk's attack momentarily stunned the men, and as they stood there, he rose.
第一個人揮刀朝那武僧撲砍過去，武僧就這樣坐著，抓住那人的手腕，輕鬆的將他舉過肩摔出去，壓垮一張桌子，製造出出好大的聲響。武僧突然的攻擊立刻震懾住了這群人，就當他們愣在那裡的同時，武僧站了起來。
That was when chaos broke out.
混戰，就在此時開始。
The monk was a fluid mass of restrained energy, meeting every attack with hardly a moment's distress. He fought with hands and feet in a way I had never seen before. In my days, I have witnessed my share of drunken bar brawls, but this was something else altogether. The sound of bones crunching with each of his strikes mixed with something I could not quite believe: the monk was laughing as he fought. One by one, he dispatched his foes until only one remained.
這武僧如一團流動的能量，輕鬆的化解掉所有攻擊。他手腳並用的以一種我從未看過的攻擊方式攻擊。雖然我見識過不少酒吧醉漢們的胡鬧，但比起眼前所見，以前的根本不算什麼。他每一次的攻擊除了對手的骨頭碎裂聲外，還夾雜著我不敢相信的聲音：那武僧的笑聲！他居然邊打鬥邊笑！他一個接著一個的打倒所有敵人，直至剩下最後一個。
That one picked up a chair and hurled it toward the monk. The monk swung his arm forward and struck the incoming projectile, meeting the solid oak of the chair with his closed fist. The wood broke apart, splinters filling the air as the shattered pieces of the stool fell harmlessly to the ground around him.
最後那一個人撿起一張椅子然後猛力擲向那武僧。他揮手向前打向那個飛來的椅子，用握緊的拳頭和橡木椅對碰。木頭碎成碎片，散佈在他周圍。
"You don't fool me, demon," the monk spat. He pulled his arms back to his sides, then extended his hands before him and began to chant. A nimbus of white light appeared around his head, growing larger and more intense until it completely encompassed the monk’s body. He roared, and the light blew outward. As it washed over the other man, his skin peeled away, revealing a red-skinned demon beneath and threw the creature through the front doors of the tavern.
"惡魔，你騙不過我的眼睛" 這武僧蔑視的說。他收回手臂，雙手合十擺在面前，然後開始詠唱經文。一輪白光在武僧頭上浮現，接著越漲越大、越強烈、直到完全包圍武僧的身體。他低吼著，那光突然往外散去。當散出的白光蔓延到那個男人的身上，褪掉它的皮膚，露出那層皮膚下一隻鮮紅色的惡魔。惡魔被那道光沖起，飛出酒館門外。
The monk hurtled forward, but his individual movements were too fast for my eyes to track. It seemed as though there were seven of him raining blows upon the demon from every side. Staggered, the demon stumbled. The monk grabbed the demon by the neck, grinning as he pulled his free arm back, crackling energy glowing on his open hand. He shoved his palm forward, and when it struck the demon, its body exploded: muscle, skin and bones tore apart, and the smell of burning flesh filled the air.
武僧衝了出去，但他的每一個動作都很快，快到我的眼睛無法清楚的捕捉。在我看起來好像有七個武僧，同時從各個方向對惡魔發動猛烈的攻擊。惡魔晃一下，倒了下去。武僧一隻手抓住惡魔脖子，把他拎起來，同時把另一隻手收回，一邊微笑著，強烈的能量在他張開的那隻手掌裡劈劈啪啪的作響。武僧把他那隻手掌向惡魔伸去，當手掌打在惡魔身上時，惡魔的身體爆炸了：肌肉、皮膚、和骨頭撕成碎片，肉燒焦的味道散佈在空氣中。
I would not have believed it if I had not seen it with my own two eyes. It seems the stories of these peerless warriors might not have been as exaggerated as I first thought.
若不是親眼所見，我絕不可能相信這樣的事情。或許，吟遊詩人吟唱的那些關於武僧們的故事並不是像人們所說那樣誇大不實。
