Befitting the Unorthodox Path

Daoist Go Jin had stormed the northern wing—and Seo Joo-cheon had sent him there for a reason. The hall was seeded with concealed weapons. The Gwak Family Manor had anticipated that any invader would come crashing through the main pavilions, and so they had packed those halls with the bulk of their traps.

"Aaaagh! Martial Uncle!"

A disciple thrashed with a spike-like spear driven through his side. Daoist Go Jin tried, at first, to save him. Then the spikes came whipping out from left and right, shredding his robes, and after that he no longer dared.

"Martial Uncle! We have to save Cheongpung!"

"No. Don't move. If you try to save Cheongpung, you could be next!"

The disciples understood perfectly well what that really meant: their martial uncle's own hide came first.

"This disciple will save him."

The moment a disciple lunged out after Cheongpung, Go Jin turned to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the ones who remained. Three disciples still stood. He looked them over.

"We're going to sprint this corridor and get out. Lead the way."

The disciples squeezed their eyes shut. They could not defy a martial uncle's command, and so the Qingcheng Sect disciples ran.

Almost at once, hidden weapons dropped from the ceiling. One disciple went down like a hedgehog, kicking and writhing as the blades punched through him. Then, without warning, Go Jin hoisted that same disciple over his head. Most of the raining steel struck the body he was using as a shield, and they made it through the corridor.

The two disciples who had survived by their brother's sacrifice understood, with sudden clarity, that they were unlikely to live long enough even to face the enemy.

"Lead the way!"

With their martial uncle shoving them from behind, the two disciples steeled themselves to die. Even if he was driving them down a path of certain death, they could not refuse the order.

They were about to run the corridor again when the ground heaved and a wall came down in a roar of splitting timber and stone. Rubble poured through the breach in a cascade of dust.

Ham Cheon-yeong stepped through, his heavy broadsword in hand.

"So this is where you were."

The two Qingcheng disciples greeted him as if he were a savior.

"H-how did you get here?"

"Big Brother told me to come look. Said I had to punch through the wall, so that's all I did."

Daoist Go Jin silently cursed himself for not thinking of it. What an idiot. Why didn't I think of that? How thick could a wall in a place like this possibly be? I sacrificed my disciples for nothing.

Ham Cheon-yeong looked at Go Jin.

"Follow me."

He could not understand why Big Brother was so determined to save a man he so thoroughly disliked. This place was a field of traps; left alone, Go Jin would have died on his own. It wasn't as if some dormant chivalry had suddenly bloomed in Seo Joo-cheon's heart.

But Ham Cheon-yeong was not the sort to question it. If Big Brother gave the order, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he was a man who would pick up dog shit and eat it.

Seo Joo-cheon had originally intended to leave Go Jin to die in the trapped hall. Then he had changed his mind: the man would make a useful sacrificial pawn against the Undying Demon, Hyeok Chung.

Even dog shit can be turned into medicine.

That was the thought. But when Seo Joo-cheon searched every hall of the Gwak Family Manor and found no sign of the Undying Demon Hyeok Chung, a knot of unease tightened in his chest.

Has something gone off-script again? Strange. Where did Hyeok Chung go?

He put the question to a dying Macheon Chong warrior, and received only the answer that the Undying Demon was not here. Cross-checking with several others confirmed it: the Undying Demon was not in the Gwak Family Manor. The lower-ranking warriors had no idea of Hyeok Chung's whereabouts.

If anyone knows, it's Vice Commander Mi-u of the Blood Sky Troop.

And so he had herded Vice Commander Mi-u into a single place.

Daoist Go Jin followed at Ham Cheon-yeong's back, and as they passed through the broken wall he quietly closed his hand around his sword. A thrust from directly behind, and Ham Cheon-yeong would have no chance to move.

In all my years I have never suffered such humiliation at the hands of Unorthodox trash of this caliber. If I kill these Unorthodox martial artists here, there's no one to question it. I can just say the Macheon Chong warriors did it.

The insults he had endured all the way to the Gwak Family Manor were more than Daoist Go Jin could forgive. He would not pardon the Shaanxi Four Fiends.

I'll kill this one, then that so-called Big Brother and the bitch as well.

The mere memory of having his refusal to aid the Mount Hua Sect laid bare still set his teeth on edge. He had never been so publicly disgraced. The time had come to settle that grudge.

Behind them, Martial Uncle Go Jin drew his sword to drive it into Ham Cheon-yeong's back. The Qingcheng disciples flinched in shock. They could not understand killing a comrade who was, at this very moment, working toward the same goal—and for no reason at all. But they did not dare intervene. They watched, their hands trembling.

That was when Kang Chu-mi came looking for Ham Cheon-yeong, and caught the scene from a distance.

How dare he. Second Brother...

She was just about to move when Seo Joo-cheon's hand closed on her shoulder. In truth, Seo Joo-cheon had handed Baek I-jin over to Dang Seol-yong and then brought Kang Chu-mi to this hall. He had come here to teach her something. And so the two of them witnessed it together.

Kang Chu-mi turned a resentful look on Big Brother, as if to ask why he was stopping her. Seo Joo-cheon only smiled. It was no look of forgiveness. It was a look of revenge.

Understanding his intent, Kang Chu-mi lowered her whip and called out.

"Second Brother! Where do you think you're going? Come over here!"

Daoist Go Jin, who had been a hair from driving his sword into Ham Cheon-yeong's back, started and hurriedly lowered the blade.

Ham Cheon-yeong glanced at Go Jin and smacked his lips.

"You could've shown up a little later."

A chill ran down Go Jin's spine. It was the tone of a man who had been waiting.

"What were you agonizing over? You should've just stabbed."

Ham Cheon-yeong had watched Go Jin treat Big Brother with contempt and had already resolved to find a pretext and take one of the man's limbs. When Big Brother told him to bring Go Jin along, he had thought, Perfect. Showing his back had been the easy part. The frustrating part was that this cat-faced Daoist couldn't seem to make up his mind.

Ham Cheon-yeong started toward Seo Joo-cheon, and the two disciples let out a sigh. Never had they so bitterly resented the fact that Go Jin was their martial uncle.

Daoist Go Jin barely made it out of the hall. The others looked at him as if he were pathetic. By every appearance, he had been hiding somewhere and only shown himself once the fighting was over.

Go Jin was not unaware of those stares. But he could hardly announce that he had been struggling through traps this entire time. That would be proving his own incompetence with his own mouth.

Dang Seol-yong's eyes had gone well past pity into open disgust. The martial artists from the inn said nothing, but they looked at him as one looks at a worm.

Seo Joo-cheon approached that Go Jin.

"Daoist Go Jin, you look as though you've had a hard time of it in there. If we withdraw as things stand, there will surely be talk about the Qingcheng Sect."

Go Jin regarded him with a sour eye, and found he had nothing to say.

"Which is why I mention it—that one over there has the look of someone holding a significant post in Macheon Chong. The way his subordinates tried to protect him, his rank is surely high. If you were to take him yourself, Daoist Master, it would put a stop to any idle gossip."

Daoist Go Jin had come out of that hall alive only by sacrificing his disciples. He knew perfectly well that if he returned without a scrap of merit, his honor would not even be fit for a stray dog to eat. Even so, he looked at Seo Joo-cheon with suspicion.

What the hell is this bastard's angle?

A man of many doubts, Go Jin did not accept the proposal easily. When he still would not take the bait, Seo Joo-cheon spoke to him in a low voice, for his ear alone.

"That one is currently under the effects of a sleeping poison—he has no strength left. I fought him myself, and he couldn't even mount a proper defense. A martial artist of your caliber, Daoist Go Jin, stands in a far higher realm than I. Subduing him should be no difficulty at all."

"Why would you hand the merit over to me?"

"What good would it do me to make an enemy of the Qingcheng Sect? I merely wish to wash away the ill feeling between us, Daoist Master, and build a better relationship."

There was enough truth in Seo Joo-cheon's eyes to pass for the real thing. No longer able to bear the others' gazes, Go Jin accepted the request.

"I'll handle that one myself."

The onlookers stared at Daoist Go Jin in disbelief at how shamelessly he said it. The others merely clicked their tongues; no one stepped forward to object. They only marveled at Seo Joo-cheon's magnanimity.

Go Jin attacked Mi-u, and Mi-u met the blade.

Huh? What the—? He said the sleeping poison had drained my internal energy!

But the vibration traveling up the sword was nothing like the empty force of a man with no true qi left. Seo Joo-cheon had, of course, told the truth. He had simply neglected to mention that, given time, Mi-u would wake from the sleeping poison and begin to recover his internal energy, little by little.

Mi-u was a master of sufficient caliber to drive the poison from his body if only he were given the time. And so Seo Joo-cheon, having herded him into a corner, had waited for Go Jin—and in waiting, had given Mi-u time to purge the toxin.

Damn it. This isn't what I was told.

Forced back by Mi-u's assault, Go Jin looked at Seo Joo-cheon with a gaze full of resentment.

"Daoist Go Jin, shall we lend a hand?"

Seo Joo-cheon's voice came from behind him, and Go Jin's face trembled and twitched. For a Daoist Master of the great Qingcheng Sect to ask Unorthodox martial artists for help would be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠talked about throughout the martial world for years to come. His standing within Qingcheng would shrink—and he might never again be able to take a single step outside the sect.

"Qingcheng disciples, attack this vile enemy!"

Help from disciples of his own sect was another matter. But the two remaining disciples knew all too well that he would sacrifice them, and they did not step forward.

"Why aren't you moving?!"

A stroke of Mi-u's sword caught him in the side. Go Jin staggered and exploded in rage.

Daoist Go Jin was a man of middle years who had yet to even reach the First-Rate. He had become a Daoist Master in the Qingcheng Sect through the mere passage of time, not because his skill had earned him the seat. And so he was being driven back, wretchedly, by Vice Commander Mi-u.

He had never been properly respected even within Qingcheng, and so he had always wandered outside. At least in the martial world, the title of Qingcheng Daoist Master earned him deferential treatment, and he had lived for that swelling of the neck. This time, too, he had gotten wind that a legendary elixir was being transported and had brought his disciples all the way to Weinan. If he lucked into the elixir, he could raise his internal energy with it and present it to the sect leader, elevating his position in Qingcheng.

At Go Jin's command, the Qingcheng disciples had no choice but to join the fight—but Seo Joo-cheon leapt in first, his sword already in motion.

"Daoist Master, allow me to assist you."

"N-no need. There's no need. I have my own sect's disciples."

He had to say it, if he was going to save face later.

Meanwhile, Vice Commander Mi-u of Macheon Chong had realized there was no hole left to crawl through. Dang Seol-yong and the Tang Clan experts were one thing—and then there was this man radiating Unorthodox energy, whose swordsmanship was anything but ordinary. It looked as though it ought to be easy to break through, and yet he could not find an opening.

My internal energy still isn't circulating properly.

If Mi-u had fully expelled the sleeping poison, he could have handled two attackers with room to spare. But the toxin had been stronger than expected; he could not purge it all at once. Even now he was hazy, a heavy drunkenness climbing through him.

"I can at least take two of them with me to the underworld."

Resolved to die, Mi-u poured every last scrap of true qi into his sword. A fighter near the First-Rate, going all out, sent a wash of blue sword qi flowing down the blade. He judged Seo Joo-cheon the more dangerous of the two—more dangerous than the cat-faced Qingcheng Daoist. He made as if to bring the sword down on Go Jin, then changed the path.

As if he had been waiting for precisely this, Seo Joo-cheon unfolded the Time Dilation Authority.

White Snake Four Trigrams bloomed in the empty air as the Time Dilation Authority took hold, and time and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠space began, slowly, to smear. Mi-u's sword, laden with sword qi, came drifting toward Seo Joo-cheon's chest. He met the blade, pressed it down, and shoved it toward Go Jin.

About one breath later, the Time Dilation Authority released. His internal energy was still insufficient; the Authority lasted no more than a single breath. But that was enough.

A wet, shearing sound.

The sword Seo Joo-cheon had pushed sheared through Go Jin's knee. To any observer, it would have looked as though the instant Seo Joo-cheon blocked, Mi-u switched targets and attacked Go Jin instead.

Mi-u's sword path had changed against his will, but he was satisfied he had taken Go Jin's leg, and he stepped back.

"You bastard! How dare you raise your blade against Daoist Go Jin!"

Seo Joo-cheon roared and unfolded the Time Dilation Authority once more. As he came in, Mi-u thrust to counter. Seo Joo-cheon slipped the slowly approaching blade by a hair and drove in with him, the form of White Snake Emerges from the Den unfolding down the line of his sword.

Seo Joo-cheon's sword punched deep into Mi-u's chest.

"Kh—!"

The groan was not Mi-u's. It burst from Daoist Go Jin. The awareness of the severed leg arrived late, and the agony followed on its heels.

A clang of steel on stone. Mi-u, having already burned every last scrap of internal energy as sword qi, dropped his blade at Seo Joo-cheon's single strike.

"To fall to the likes of these..."

From Mi-u's perspective, being taken down by worthless Unorthodox martial artists was infuriating. Seo Joo-cheon sidled closer and asked, almost mildly,

"Where is the Undying Demon?"

"How does a bastard like you know about him? Heh heh heh... so that's it. You got information from somewhere. If the Undying Demon had been here... khh!"

Seo Joo-cheon pulled the sword free. It felt as though Mi-u's soul were being dragged out with it.

"Where is he?"

"He had business at headquarters and was away. He's on his way back. By now he should be coming up the Suo River."

Hearing that bitter, resentful voice, Seo Joo-cheon felt every hair on his body stand on end.

"The Undying Demon is at the Suo River?"

But Mi-u was past answering. His head was already lolling to one side. Seo Joo-cheon released the collar he had been holding, and the body slid to the ground.

Seo Joo-cheon, for an entirely different reason, wanted to sink down with it.