Chapter 64
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 64
Chapter Title: Bewitchment
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The Blood Brush was methodically weaving threads of blood qi around it like a spiderweb, gradually taking control.
It had abandoned its main body, now exposed, but was extending its influence to the surrounding books and writing tools.
The blood qi it imbued was minimal, subtle enough not to be detected under normal circumstances.
On top of that, it reached out its demonic claws toward the people outside. It would be useless against a transcendent master like the sect leader, but for peak-level martial artists, it could plant subtle suggestions.
"...Hehehe, what the hell is going on here."
Its target was Song Seolryeong.
She had been forced into the life-threatening act of scaling a cliff piercing the clouds with her bare body, and her destination was the dwelling of the sect's highest elder—an event beyond all common sense.
Her body already ached all over, her mind in a haze, and then she had unwittingly witnessed a duel beyond reason, with gang qi exploding and space twisting. Song Seolryeong's mental fortitude had reached its limit.
Physical exhaustion, mental strain, an extreme lethargy where even thinking felt bothersome.
In other words, she was vulnerable to a demon's bewitchment.
"...Huh? What's this sudden trash—"
On the porch outside the hut, a scrap of paper carried by the wind.
Nothing particularly unusual about it, yet it strangely caught her eye.
Like a pretty pebble or a nicely shaped stick— no real reason, but an urge to pick it up welled up.
And then, the glimpse of writing.
Between the folds of the halved paper, faint characters peeked through.
"...What does it say?"
Curiosity.
The most universal desire unique to intelligent beings.
Not an essential need tied to survival like hunger or sleep, nor stemming from something noble like reproduction...
Yet, truly a temptation hard to resist.
How could one claim to be human without a thirst for exploration?
The paper scrap feigned harmlessness, hiding its monstrous nature, and stirred the faintest curiosity.
"...Let's see."
Song Seolryeong picked up the rolling scrap from the floor without a hint of caution.
Of course. Why would anyone suspect a small, dirt-smeared, crumpled piece of paper?
Naturally, thoughtlessly, with a light heart, she picked it up to check the contents.
(), ().
Died in the morning— what use is enlightenment come evening?
It was the phrase So-hyang had once written to explain the Blood Brush's power, infusing it with spirit qi to demonstrate its danger.
The cunning tool was now exploiting even that as a resource.
Following the flow of blood qi, the written words wriggled, changing form and meaning.
"(), ()…?"
Take the object, forget it from your heart...
A simple suggestion, not one to cause harm to self or others, so there was no reason for resistance.
Besides, with her mind already exhausted to the brink, Song Seolryeong fell under the spell without sensing anything amiss.
"Mm."
A subtle red glow flecked her pupils, and she naturally tucked the paper into her bosom.
Even a mild bewitchment could yield greater effects depending on the target.
If she carried the paper out of Mount Wudang like this, the Blood Brush's plan would succeed.
A clone containing all its blood qi and essence—sure, with significant loss, but it could slip out undetected.
The Wudang Taoists would focus on purifying and sealing the shed husk of the brush.
The Blood Brush's main body would escape and resume its grand scheme.
"...Hmm, far more cunning than I thought?"
"Indeed. Even leaving deliberate openings, what a crafty bastard."
If not for the two beings who had watched every scheme from the base of Mount Wudang.
"Kyaaak! So-hyang!?"
Song Seolryeong's eyes widened in shock at So-hyang's sudden appearance behind her without a sound or presence, letting out a shrill scream.
"...Young Lady Seolryeong, even if you're exhausted, how can you let your guard down like this?"
"Y-Yes?"
What the hell is this all of a sudden...!
Song Seolryeong felt deeply wronged by the sudden appearance and the subtly reproachful gaze.
So-hyang sighed softly at her bewildered reaction, then without lengthy explanation, plunged her hand into Song Seolryeong's bosom.
"Kyaaat!?"
Inside the collar, between skin and undergarments, the sensation of slender fingers burrowing in.
"Wh-What are you touching—!?"
Her dazed, unfocused eyes sharpened in the shocking situation, her face flushing red in an instant.
So-hyang, ignoring the embarrassed scream, pulled out what she had been searching for.
"Now, what might this be?"
A small scrap held between her fingers.
Kki, kkieeeek!?
The Blood Brush revealed its panic in that form.
"Huh? What's that?"
Song Seolryeong, her recent memory cleanly erased by the paper's words, looked puzzled and turned the question back on So-hyang.
"...Sigh."
A blankly vacant expression. Whether from fatigue accumulated climbing the cliff or the blood qi's haze dulling her judgment, she wasn't thinking straight.
Though she knew who had pushed her to this state, the culprit didn't blame herself and instead crooked her finger.
Thumb atop the bent index finger— the Wheel-Turning Mudra, also called the Dharma Wheel Seal.
"S-So-hyang, that's...?"
"First, let's clear out the blood qi lodged in your head."
So-hyang gently brushed aside Song Seolryeong's bangs and precisely flicked her forehead right in the center.
"Don't open your mouth— bite your tongue?"
"-Hup!"
With the clear ring of a wooden fish mallet, Song Seolryeong's head snapped back.
Her body following along.
"S-Seolryeong Lady!?"
A flick sending a person floating— power beyond common sense. Kang Pyo, watching from the side, knew So-hyang wouldn't harm her, yet he still cried out in alarm.
"-Kwaaaang!!"
Not a metaphor— genuine pain piercing her brain and shaking her soul. Song Seolryeong clutched her indented forehead with both hands and rolled on the ground.
"S-Suddenly, why, why did you...!"
So-hyang held up the paper again before her tear-filled eyes as she lay there like a tragic heroine gazing up.
"Well, do you remember now?"
"No, what's with this paper from earlier! ...Huh?"
Song Seolryeong nearly wailed in injustice and sorrow, but a sudden flash of recent memory made her shut her mouth with a gasp.
A strangely dazed mind.
The sect leader had wrapped the area in qi for repairs, so not even a breeze should stir, yet the paper had rolled in on wind.
Her gaze drawn irresistibly to a mere scrap, something she'd never felt before.
The words wriggling and changing shape in real time, yet no sense of wrongness.
She had pocketed it per the words, forgetting everything until the flick just now.
"...Wha, wha, what?"
Forgotten memories flashing like a panorama chilled her spine as she looked up at So-hyang.
"N-No way, don't tell me..."
"Yes, you were bewitched."
So-hyang pitifully stroked her forehead after she grabbed her sleeve.
"Th-That, even sooo... did you have to hit so hard? There's even an indent left..."
"Hm? Where's the mark?"
"Uh?"
Surprisingly, when Song Seolryeong touched her forehead again, no indent, no flushed skin, no trace of the flick remained.
"K-Kang warrior! Look here, look! It was definitely indented...!?"
"Hm, I don't see anything...?"
All that showed was a smooth, round forehead.
"...??? It was definitely there...!?"
"...Must have hurt a lot. I know from experience— So-hyang's flicks really sting. Easy to imagine it dented."
With head-splitting pain, mistaking it for a dent was plausible.
"No, I tell you it was there!!"
"Hahaha! Looks spotless to me! Must've hurt bad, Young Lady Seolryeong!"
Jegal Hansang, vitality restored by the regenerative technique So-hyang taught, heartily laughed and denied it.
"Uh, uhh... really not?"
In the end, even Song Seolryeong wondered if it was a mistake and gave up her grumbling.
Stroking her forehead with a wronged expression.
"...Isn't teasing kids like that fun?"
Inside the hut, Daoist Cheongheo pulverized the blood-qi infested tools with gang qi, casting an exasperated glance at So-hyang stifling laughter behind him.
"Ahem."
Mentally over a hundred, yet playing pranks on young juniors...
So-hyang turned away, face slightly red. Perhaps due to her youthful body, she oddly enjoyed such mischief.
"Master, just now there was a strange energy...!"
Meanwhile, the belatedly aware sect leader sought his master in panic.
Blood qi thickly settled in the air.
An ominous aura vibrating with such dense blood scent it was baffling why it went unnoticed until now.
Even for Cheonha Zhenren, publicly acknowledged as the Central Plains' top qi talent.
"It happens. Its function is optimized for concealment and detection evasion."
It had seized a favorable moment for escape, even using decoys— far more intelligent and vicious than expected.
A plague with self-awareness and judgment, no less.
"Cheonha. This ties into the confidential intel Junior So-hyang brought from the Jegal Clan."
"Ah..."
"Shall we head inside and discuss in detail?"
So-hyang said this, approaching the three peak experts standing blankly like screens, and took back her entrusted satchel.
From it, she pulled a gourd flask.
"Everyone worked hard— how about a drink together?"
A white clay flask glazed clear and fired, sealed with a cork So-hyang made herself.
Without tools, she gripped the stopper with thumb and index finger and popped it out with a pong.
"-Hm!?"
Daoist Cheongheo's eyes widened.
A sweetly spreading aroma, subtly infused with green tea scent.
Above all, the smooth bouquet of alcohol.
Unmistakably fine liquor.
Daoist Cheongheo squeezed shut his sparkling eyes, shook his head vigorously, and signaled refusal.
"Y-You... offering liquor so boldly to a Wudang Daoist?"
"True Person, you're salivating."
"Ssp! No, this is...!"
Originally, Daoist Cheongheo faithfully followed Daoist precepts.
A pure body and mind, never touching women, gambling, or drink.
Until the war with the Blood Cult.
Over seventy years of hardship, mingling with fellow martial artists, his prime saw Cheongheo indulging more than worldly warriors.
Post-war, he quit cold turkey, only to relapse from a disciple's antics, quit again after shock at another's midnight confession...
Now, he knew the sweetness of a drink after a good sweat.
"...Ahem, just one then?"
The intoxicating aroma proved hard to resist.
"Good."
So-hyang smiled satisfactorily at Daoist Cheongheo's reluctant acceptance.