Wudang Sacred Scriptures

Jin Cheongha gazed at him with expectant eyes. Kwak Yeon gave a slight nod.

“I managed to replenish some of the Demonic Venerables’ origin true qi. However, what remained in each of them was already extremely faint, and there are eight of them. I could not restore enough for them to awaken immediately.”

“Ah...!”

Had those words come from anyone but Kwak Yeon, Jin Cheongha would never have believed that an immortal art of the Taoist Gate could gather origin true qi.

Her eyes began to burn, and she hurriedly lowered her head.

“Thank you... truly.”

“Young Castle Lord, how many times do you intend to thank me? They say excessive courtesy is discourtesy. You are beginning to sound rather insincere.”

“Chief Secretary Kwak, n-no! I owe you thanks a hundred times over—a thousand, even... Ah!”

Only then did Jin Cheongha notice the smile on Kwak Yeon’s face, and emotion surged into her throat.

He had made a joke—something he rarely ever did—just to ease the burden on her heart.

“Young Castle Lord, instead of spending that time thanking me, use it to help me.”

“...Just tell me what you need.”

She bowed again, privately resolving that she would leap into a pit of fire if he asked it of her.

—Rustle. Click.

She heard the sweep of cloth, followed by the sound of something opening.

“Dissolve these pills in water and pour the mixture into the Venerables’ mouths.”

Jin Cheongha raised her head. Kwak Yeon held a small wooden box in one hand, filled with black medicinal pills.

“Chief Secretary Kwak, what are those...?”

“The antidote to the Heaven-Unbinding Life-Saving Pill. The Alliance Leader gave it to me.”

“...!”

Momentarily struck speechless, Jin Cheongha finally asked, “I thought the Heaven-Unbinding Life-Saving Pill had no antidote.”

Despite its auspicious name, which promised to unbind heaven and preserve life, the Heaven-Unbinding Life-Saving Pill was a vicious poison.

It had been created after the Eight Desolations Upheaval specifically to cripple the dantians of the demonic martial artists imprisoned in the Great Demon Prison. As far as the world knew, no antidote existed.

“I believed the same,” Kwak Yeon said. “But the Alliance Leader told me, ‘Just as yin cannot exist without yang, no poison can exist without an antidote.’ Its existence was simply kept secret.”

“Then the Alliance Leader created the antidote at the same time as the poison. But why would he...?”

Kwak Yeon answered evenly.

“The Alliance Leader never intended to keep the demonic martial artists imprisoned in the Great Demon Prison forever.”

“...!”

“The orthodox and demonic paths may contend over their respective domains like yin and yang, but the two can never truly be separated.”

“...That is true.”

During her travels with Kwak Yeon, Jin Cheongha had gradually absorbed the teachings of the immortal path—that orthodoxy and demonism could coexist within a single heart.

Through those teachings, she had also realized that mastering an advanced demonic art required an awakening of one’s humanity.

Ever since, whenever she circulated Ghost Night Castle’s unique demonic art, she had practiced mind-purification alongside it.

Her circulation had begun to quicken little by little, while the demonic nature that surged with her demonic qi had become easier to control.

In any case, she now understood why Martial Supreme Venerable Cheol Gun-ak had so readily permitted their journey to the Great Demon Prison.

When news arrived that the prison had been breached and the Eight Demonic Venerables had died, the Martial Alliance Leader must have suffered deeply as a man.

“Young Castle Lord, once this antidote reopens the Eight Demonic Venerables’ sealed dantians, their inner power and true qi will begin gathering naturally. That should hasten their recovery, so please hurry.”

“Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.”

Even if Kwak Yeon scolded her again for excessive courtesy, Jin Cheongha could not keep herself from saying it.

Fortunately, he offered no rebuke. She accepted the wooden box and hurried toward the cave niches.

Once she was gone and Kwak Yeon approached, Hu Gae spoke with obvious regret.

“Brother Kwak, didn’t you use that antidote too soon? It would have been perfect leverage to make them sign the Righteous Heaven Banner.”

“...”

“I hate to say this with Sister Jin involved, but even if those eight call themselves Venerables of the demonic path, aren’t they demons at heart?”

He was asking what they would do if the Eight Demonic Venerables revived, discovered that their dantians had been restored, and then simply refused to honor their debt.

“Brother, we had no choice. Reviving them comes first.”

“I suppose it does...”

Hu Gae bobbed his head, then asked, “But can they truly be brought back?”

“...”

“Ahem! It isn’t that I doubt you. I’ve simply never heard of an immortal art capable of producing origin true qi.”

His question struck directly at the heart of the matter.

Unlike inner power and true qi, origin true qi was an innate force one was born with. Neither cultivation nor miraculous medicine could restore it.

After a brief silence, Kwak Yeon spoke.

“Your vast knowledge of the martial world leaves this foolish younger brother no choice but to confess.”

Deceiving the sworn elder brother who had shared life and death with him had weighed heavily on Kwak Yeon. He decided to offer at least a partial explanation.

“You are right. I have never heard of such an immortal art either, much less learned one.”

Hu Gae stared at him.

“Then what were you doing all night? Knowing you, you wouldn’t claim it worked merely to comfort us.”

“I possess a certain artifact.”

“An artifact...?”

“Long ago, an elder entrusted it to me and asked that I deliver it to an old friend. Because of the promise I made, I cannot reveal anything more.”

“...!”

“I discovered, however, that carrying the artifact increases one’s origin true qi. Since I could not disclose its existence, I used an immortal art as an excuse. I apologize, Brother.”

“There is nothing to apologize for. You had your reasons.”

Hu Gae shook his head and continued.

“An artifact that increases origin true qi... Astonishing. It may not increase inner power and true qi or aid one’s martial attainment, but it is unquestionably a priceless treasure. I forced the truth out of you today with my stubbornness, but never mention it again.”

Even between sworn brothers closer than blood, certain boundaries had to be respected. Hu Gae found himself feeling guilty for pressing the matter.

“At any rate, I won’t ask anything else about it. Just one thing—the old friend you were asked to give it to... could that person be...?”

Kwak Yeon answered without hesitation.

“The Supreme Patriarch.”

“Ah! So that was why you were pursuing the Sword Sovereign’s trail in such a hurry.”

Satisfied that his guess had been correct, Hu Gae nodded and changed the subject.

“When do you think the Eight Demonic Venerables will regain consciousness?”

“It is still difficult to say. I have restored only about a tenth of their origin true qi.”

Hu Gae’s expression darkened.

“Then you will have to keep performing that... no, that immortal art?”

“Yes.”

“Damn. We’re already pressed for time. Tomorrow marks the end of the month the Alliance Leader gave us.”

Kwak Yeon’s gaze darkened as well.

Their expectation that they could reach the Great Demon Prison, meet the Eight Demonic Venerables, and negotiate with them had fallen apart.

“The Martial Alliance’s campaign force still has a considerable distance to travel before it reaches the headquarters of the Demonic Eight Divisions. We have some time.”

“One could look at it that way, but...”

Hu Gae nodded, yet the shadow on his face did not lift.

“Nothing in the martial world ever goes entirely as expected. Worse, we haven’t heard a word about the Martial Alliance since leaving Chang’an Prefecture.”

As the heir to the Beggar Clan, Hu Gae had been accustomed to receiving reports on the state of the martial world almost every day. Being left deaf and blind for more than ten days had made him deeply uneasy.

“Brother, for now we must concentrate on what lies before us. The Alliance Leader will be handling matters at the Martial Alliance. The Grand Strategist will be doing his part as well.”

“Yes. Of course they will.”

Hu Gae nodded readily. In truth, from the middle of a northern desert ten thousand li away, they had no other choice.

“In any case, I will redouble my efforts to help the Eight Demonic Venerables recover as soon as possible. I would also appreciate your help.”

“What help could I possibly be?”

“They have gone without grain or proper nourishment for far too long. As soon as their vitality begins to return, we should feed them small amounts.”

“Mm! So you want me to prepare food suitable for their recovery. They can hardly start with coarse dried rations.”

“I leave it to you.”

The notion of the heir to the greatest beggar organization under heaven waiting hand and foot on a group of great demons sat poorly with Hu Gae, but he had little choice but to nod.

“Fine. I’ll keep an eye on Taoist Cheongmu as well, so tend to your work without worrying.”

“...”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he doesn’t throw just anything into the pot. Up we go!”

Hu Gae brushed himself off and rose, then called to Taoist Cheongmu, who was rummaging among the stones on the cavern floor.

“Taoist Cheongmu, come with me to the cave entrance.”

“Big Beggar. Why are we going to the entrance...?”

“Brother Kwak says he wants porridge, but there’s no suitable firewood in here.”

Taoist Cheongmu flung away the scorpion he had been holding and sprang to his feet.

“Big Beggar, let’s go right now.”

*****

—Creak. Creak.

Wang Sosam, an old fisherman who had spent his life on the Yangtze River, rowed diligently through the pale light before dawn.

The tiny skiff rocked each time he pulled on the oars, but never lost its heading as it cut through the river’s current.

As an experienced fisherman, Wang Sosam handled his boat as expertly as ever. Today, however, fortune did not seem to favor him.

He could not find any of the nets he had set the previous evening.

“Strange. This can’t be right...”

Once again, there was no buoy where he had left a net.

Wang Sosam raised his head and surveyed the Great Flame Merchant House’s vessels anchored densely around his skiff.

The merchant fleet visited Zhenjiangkou regularly and anchored at its docks. Whenever it did, Wang Sosam would weave among the ships and set his nets between them.

Fish tended to gather beneath anchored vessels, so he had expected a rich catch today. Instead, he had lost the nets themselves. His disappointment was considerable.

Never before had every net he set simply vanished.

It might have made sense if a passing ship had cut through them during the night.

But the Great Flame Merchant House’s anchored vessels could not possibly have moved overnight. The matter was truly baffling.

“What in the world happened here? Has the Dragon King of the Yangtze taken offense at me?”

As Wang Sosam puzzled over it, his gaze settled upon the hull of one merchant ship.

“Hm...?”

Something about it seemed wrong—wrong enough to catch the eye of a seasoned fisherman.

“...!”

After staring at the vessel for a moment, Wang Sosam realized what had changed.

Unlike the previous evening, the ship’s old waterline now stood nearly a handspan above the river.

A vessel that remained submerged to the same depth for any length of time always bore a visible mark. There was no possibility that he had imagined it.

Wang Sosam hurriedly examined the other merchant ships.

Every one of them was the same. Their former waterlines had risen roughly a handspan above the water.

There was only one reason a ship would ride that much higher.

Its heavy cargo had been unloaded.

“Hm? Then what did they unload last night...?”

Wang Sosam had seen the Great Flame Merchant House’s fleet anchor at Zhenjiangkou countless times, but he had never witnessed anything like this.

“That makes no sense...”

Unloading cargo at night was an invitation to disaster.

And the Great Flame Merchant House had never delivered goods to the Martial Alliance before.

There was no reason for merchant vessels to unload their cargo at the Martial Alliance rather than at a merchant guild in the first place.

While Wang Sosam was still tilting his head in confusion, someone called to him from one of the ships.

“Is that you, Old Wang?”