Wudang Sacred Scriptures

Jin Gwanho, the Ghost-Hand Demon Venerable, naturally understood that it was Kwak Yeon who had given him this precious opportunity.

Kwak had not raised White Astral Qi for no reason.

Nor had he poured everything he had into unleashing sword forms against an imaginary opponent without purpose.

He had done it so that Jin Gwanho, as he had been at the height of his power, could unleash the perfected essence of the Heaven-Annihilating Ghost-Hand True Demon Art.

Because Kwak had prepared the stage for him, Jin Gwanho could become his former self and freely put into practice the martial insights he had awakened to while imprisoned in the Great Demon Prison.

“That is enough.”

When the Heaven-Shattering Soul-Annihilating Palm, the final consummate technique of the Heaven-Annihilating Ghost-Hand True Demon Art, struck the wall of white sword aura suspended in the air and dissipated, Jin Gwanho finally opened the lips he had kept firmly sealed.

SHRING!

CLICK!

Kwak sheathed the Blue-Steel Sword and gave a clasped-hands bow toward Jin Gwanho, who remained seated in meditation inside the cave niche.

“I, Kwak Yeon, will engrave Great Castle Lord’s precious instruction upon my bones and carry it with me.”

Jin Gwanho frowned.

“I am sick of hearing those musty old courtesies of yours. Enough of them.”

Having dismissed the customary exchange of courtesies after a martial duel as though it were some mold-covered relic, Jin Gwanho immediately asked,

“How did you do it?”

“It was a sword duel in the mind.”

“Do you truly think this old man was asking because he failed to recognize a sword duel in the mind?”

He was asking how Kwak had drawn him into one.

“I happened to learn an immortal art at Samryeong Palace that allowed my mind to connect with Great Castle Lord’s.”

Kwak could not casually reveal the Honwonmusang Technique, Wudang’s true realm, so he answered as vaguely as he could.

“An immortal art that can link minds...?”

Jin Gwanho considered that for a moment before continuing.

“In all my life, I have never heard of such an immortal art. But if a Taoist of Samryeong Palace says there is one, then I suppose I shall accept that there is.”

“...”

“In any case, my martial arts failed to match yours, Taoist Kwak. I lost.”

Kwak quietly bowed again to Jin Gwanho, who had acknowledged his defeat without hesitation.

“I sincerely thank Great Castle Lord for yielding the contest to an insignificant junior. I must also apologize for looking upon your unique martial art without permission.”

Jin Gwanho shook his head.

“If anything, I should be thanking you. Had that been a real martial duel rather than a sword duel in the mind, I certainly would never have been able to unleash my final consummate technique.”

Through their contest, Jin Gwanho had sensed that Kwak had brought an extraordinary variety of advanced martial arts to complete mastery, and that his realm stood above Jin Gwanho’s own.

That was why he had acknowledged defeat without regret once he had unleashed his final technique.

“And there is even less reason for you to apologize for seeing my unique martial art. I inscribed those martial formulas so they could be passed on to whoever eventually found this place. Does that not mean you, too, had every right to see and learn them? If anything, I am glad you looked at my martial art and even committed it to memory.”

“...?”

“It means you judged it worthy of remembering rather than some trifling art to glance at once and forget.”

“How could I possibly be qualified to judge the unique martial arts of Ghost Night Castle? Please, Great Castle Lord, take those words back.”

Watching Kwak bow his head yet again, Jin Gwanho smiled with satisfaction.

He had felt burdened by the debt of having been pulled back from the threshold of death.

Now that he had fought Kwak through a sword duel in the mind and lost, the obstacle that had kept him from granting Kwak’s request was gone.

“If that is how you feel, Taoist Kwak, then what importance do the exact words have? Pay it no further mind.”

Jin Gwanho shook his head and continued.

“You must be in a hurry. Go on, then.”

There were still seven Demonic Venerables left for Kwak to challenge. Jin Gwanho was telling him to hurry away, learn the unique martial arts of the others, and prepare himself.

“Then I shall take my leave.”

A faint smile touched Jin Gwanho’s lips as he watched Kwak give a cupped-hands salute and turn away.

There was absolutely nothing lacking in the young man as a match for his granddaughter, Jin Cheongha.

No—if anything, he was more than worthy.

The fact that he was a Taoist of Samryeong Palace on Mount Wudang gave Jin Gwanho some pause, but since he was a resident Taoist rather than one bound to celibate monastic life, surely something could be arranged.

With the world in such turmoil, there was no hope of tying the two together anytime soon, but...

I suppose I will have to hold on somehow until then.

Jin Gwanho, whose will to live had been slowly growing for the sake of his granddaughter, who had no other close kin left in the world, suddenly widened his eyes.

“...?”

Kwak was not heading toward the tunnel that served as the cavern entrance.

He was walking toward the other Venerables’ cave niches.

“I, Kwak Yeon, resident Taoist of Samryeong Palace on Mount Wudang, shall receive the instruction of the Netherworld Demon Venerable, Supreme Sect Leader of the Nine Hells Demon Gate.”

Jin Gwanho stared in shock when he heard Kwak issue his challenge before Wi Baeksang’s cave niche.

It could only mean that Kwak had also mastered the Netherworld Demon Venerable’s unique martial art completely.

Comprehending Jin Gwanho’s own Heaven-Annihilating Ghost-Hand True Demon Art in a mere two days had already been enough to shake heaven and earth...

SHRING!

The crisp sound of a sword being drawn spread through the silent cavern.

*****

“Huff! Huff!”

Left Military Strategist Yong Baekcheon had sprinted up the steep stairs of the Alliance Leader’s Office in one burst, leaving him gasping for breath, but he could not afford to stop.

He ran all the way to the doors of the Righteous Heaven Hall and urgently addressed Myung Jincheon, Lord of the Hocheon Unit, who stood rigidly before them.

“Unit Lord Myung, I must see the Alliance Leader immediately.”

“...”

Myung Jincheon merely stared at him without reacting.

Yong Baekcheon was baffled.

“Unit Lord Myung, what are you doing? I have an urgent report for the Alliance Leader.”

“...Ah!”

Only then did Myung Jincheon react.

“Left Military Strategist. Of course. I will escort you inside.”

Following him into the Righteous Heaven Hall, Yong Baekcheon tilted his head.

Myung Jincheon was not acting like himself.

He was renowned for handling every matter with meticulous precision and was equally rigorous in managing himself.

Yong had never once seen him standing there in a daze as he just had.

Has guarding the Alliance Leader day after day exhausted him?

In truth, it would hardly have been surprising.

Ever since the campaign against the Demonic Eight Divisions began, the Martial Alliance had remained under constant tension.

Moreover, martial units amounting to nearly seventy percent of the Alliance’s total strength had departed to support the campaign forces, leaving the headquarters badly understaffed for security.

External patrols had been reduced as a result, but the Martial Alliance headquarters covered such an enormous area that the burden on its remaining martial units grew heavier by the day.

Myung Jincheon, as Lord of the Hocheon Unit responsible specifically for guarding the Alliance Leader’s Office, had to be suffering more than most.

Even so, something felt wrong.

The Myung Jincheon Yong Baekcheon had seen a moment ago had seemed almost like an entirely different person.

It was as though a dead flame suddenly flared back to life.

Yong wondered whether Myung was seriously ill or perhaps struggling with some grave concern.

At such a critical time, they could not afford to have anything happen to the Lord of the Hocheon Unit, so Yong was about to ask whether he was all right.

But—

“Alliance Leader, the Left Military Strategist has arrived.”

They had already reached the Alliance Leader’s office, so Yong held his tongue.

“Send him in.”

As Yong Baekcheon entered the office, he put his concern about Myung Jincheon aside.

Compared with what he had come to report, Unit Lord Myung’s condition was a minor matter indeed.

After hearing Yong Baekcheon’s report, Martial Supreme Venerable Cheol Gun-ak, Leader of the Martial Alliance, furrowed his brow.

“The fighting began earlier than we expected.”

Yong Baekcheon answered with his head bowed.

“No one anticipated that the Demonic Eight Divisions would come so far from their own territory to launch night raids. There was no precedent for it, either.”

The Demonic Eight Divisions traditionally drew their opponents into their own domains before fighting.

It was far more advantageous to prepare thoroughly around the harsh terrain they knew so well and then engage the enemy there.

“Long-range night raids without precedent... They are clearly no longer the Demonic Eight Divisions of old.”

Cheol Gun-ak nodded, then asked,

“Judging by the way you came running here out of breath, I take it the campaign forces suffered losses.”

“They did.”

Yong Baekcheon placed an intelligence dispatch before the Martial Alliance Leader.

As Cheol Gun-ak skimmed it, Yong continued grimly.

“As you can see from the report, Alliance Leader, the campaign forces on the three routes led by Wudang, Shaolin, and the Namgung Family suffered comparatively light losses. But the forces on the remaining five routes sustained considerable casualties.”

Cheol Gun-ak set the dispatch down.

“Even allowing for an unexpected night raid, I do not understand how the losses became this severe.”

There was a faint rebuke in his words—an implication that the Strategists’ Office should have prepared for at least that much.

Yong Baekcheon answered with an uncomfortable expression.

“The Grand Strategist repeatedly instructed the commanders of each campaign force to advance cautiously. Naturally, scouts were to be sent ahead, and the main forces were not to move until the route had been secured. But... it appears some of the sect leaders were too eager for military achievements and pressed forward.”

Yong phrased it delicately, but his meaning was obvious.

The leaders of the martial sects had become so blinded by the prospect of earning merit that they disregarded the Strategists’ Office’s instructions.

The crease between Cheol Gun-ak’s brows deepened.

Greed. It is always that damned greed.

In truth, Cheol Gun-ak himself had worried about the martial sect leaders’ hunger for fame.

After all, he had brought many orthodox sects reluctant to participate in the campaign against the Demonic Eight Divisions into the war precisely by invoking the Martial World Pact and appealing to their ambitions.

“At any rate, they have been badly burned once. I imagine they will restrain themselves now.”

“Yes. The sect leaders have reportedly pledged to advance more cautiously from this point forward. The problem is that Martial Alliance units had to be dispatched to reinforce the five routes that suffered heavy losses. That has left a gap in the relief force under the Grand Strategist.”

“So you are saying he needs further reinforcements from headquarters?”

“That is correct.”

“How many?”

“The Grand Strategist has requested that we send the First Corps for now.”

“Then send it at once.”

“...”

When Yong Baekcheon hesitated, Cheol Gun-ak asked,

“Left Military Strategist, is there a problem?”

“If we remove the First Corps, security at Martial Alliance headquarters will weaken by the same amount.”

“I do not see why that should be a problem.”

Cheol Gun-ak tilted his head once before continuing.

“The Hocheon Unit under Unit Lord Myung alone has enough strength to face one entire division of the demonic path, does it not? And the defenses of the Outer Fortress and Inner Fortress are impregnable. Even if all Eight Demonic Divisions came at once, they would hardly shake them.”

“That is true.”

Yong Baekcheon could not bring himself to say that an impregnable defense only became impregnable because there were people manning it.

Nor could he tell the Alliance Leader that those people, unlike the seemingly indestructible Cheol Gun-ak himself, grew tired.

“Left Military Strategist, return to the Strategists’ Office immediately. Prepare the First Corps and send it out.”

“Understood.”

Because Cheol Gun-ak pressed him to act at once, Yong never got the chance to relay that the Grand Strategist had specifically requested the Goncheon Corps as reinforcements.

Then again, Cheol Gun-ak accepted the Grand Strategist’s judgment almost without exception and was unlikely to question the request, so there was little reason to report that detail separately.

“Ah, Left Military Strategist.”

As Yong Baekcheon bowed and turned to leave, Cheol Gun-ak called after him.

“Still no word from Chief Secretary Kwak?”

“We have received nothing from the Jadeite Pavilion. The moment a dispatch arrives from Chief Secretary Kwak, I will have it relayed to you immediately.”

“Very well.”

Cheol Gun-ak’s expression hardened as he watched Yong Baekcheon leave the hall.

Still no word at all. Did I place too much faith in that boy?

In truth, the Eight Demonic Venerables were far too proud for such hopes to have been reasonable in the first place.

And now that clashes with the Demonic Eight Divisions had begun ahead of schedule, fulfilling the boy’s objective had become even more difficult.

At this point, I should simply hope he returns safely.

Deep in thought, Cheol Gun-ak failed to notice the eyes of Myung Jincheon, Lord of the Hocheon Unit, standing behind him.

They were slowly turning red.