The True Master of the Hilt
Bulsama unleashed another surge of palm force, yet his hand froze before it could so much as graze Seo Joo-cheon's body.
What in the world is happening?
His will was set on killing Seo Joo-cheon. His body simply refused to obey. In all the long years of his life, he had never known anything like it.
Then I'll do it this way.
Abandoning palm arts, he drew his sword and cut at Seo Joo-cheon, determined to finish him with steel instead.
Nngh!
That, too, halted a hair's breadth from its mark. He could not attack Seo Joo-cheon at all. To anyone watching, however, it looked as though Seo Joo-cheon were merely slipping just out of range.
"Oh!"
A gasp of admiration burst through the inn as it appeared he was evading the Undying Demon's monstrous assault. Through it all, Mak Goeng remained unperturbed. From where he stood, Bulsama was merely toying with Seo Joo-cheon — a cat playing with a mouse.
Sim Gong, the Plum Blossom Swordmaster, stared at Seo Joo-cheon in astonishment.
There were always stories about the Shaanxi Four Evils. I can see now why they spread.
Kang Chu-mi and Ham Cheon-yeong were stronger than rumor had suggested, yet still within the range Mount Hua saw often enough. Seo Joo-cheon was something else entirely.
Is it his movement art that's so exceptional?
The way he slipped between Bulsama's palm strikes and sword cuts could not reasonably be dismissed as the work of some lower-rate fighter.
"Miss Baek, let us join the assault on Bulsama as well."
Sim Gong looked to Baek I-jin as he spoke.
"No. Let us leave this to the Shaanxi Four Chivalrous Heroes for now."
Baek I-jin meant to trust Seo Joo-cheon with the fight, and Sim Gong's hand tightened on his sword. He had fought Bulsama himself. Two Plum Blossom Swordmasters and Baek I-jin besides had thrown themselves at the man and still failed to bring him down properly. Watching a lone lower-rate unorthodox martial artist stand against Bulsama now left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Seo Joo-cheon had meant to crush Bulsama in a single exchange. It was not nearly so simple. Against a First-Rate master, the Time Dilation Authority would have been more than enough. But Bulsama's wounds closed almost as soon as they opened, and he was a master who stood beyond even Peak. Seo Joo-cheon could not land a true, decisive blow. No matter how many times he carved open the abdomen or the flanks, it came to nothing.
If I keep fighting like this until my inner energy runs dry, I'll be the one who falls.
He had already invoked the Time Dilation Authority again and again, and even now his inner energy was steadily draining toward empty. He used it once more, all but throwing himself into Bulsama's embrace to attempt an acupoint seal. He poured inner energy into his fingers and struck more than a dozen demonic meridians and death points. Bulsama did not so much as flinch.
"Acupoint sealing is useless against me!"
It seemed he had already blocked every meridian in his body with the Jangdokhwe-go. So long as the parasite stood in the way, no sealing strike would take hold. Seo Joo-cheon turned over several methods of attack in his mind, and one of them surfaced.
Yes. That might actually work.
Bulsama pressed him with sword and palm force together. Ham Cheon-yeong and Kang Chu-mi harried him from the rear and the flanks at just the right moments, and Seo Joo-cheon drove into Bulsama's guard once more.
"You miserable maggots!"
Bulsama roared in fury and poured palm force at Seo Joo-cheon. Since he could not lay a hand on the man, he meant to strike him down with projected force instead. It was a method that burned through inner energy at a vicious rate — and the only method left that could actually reach him.
The instant Seo Joo-cheon came within a breath of his face, Bulsama thrust both hands forward and unleashed the blast. Seo Joo-cheon slipped aside as if he had been waiting for exactly that, and his sword swept through.
A wet, heavy sound.
Seo Joo-cheon's blade sank into Bulsama's neck.
A hiss of steel through flesh.
"It can't be!"
"Heavens!"
A sudden chill swept through the inn. Seo Joo-cheon's sword had cut halfway through Bulsama's throat. A little deeper, and the head would have come away entirely. Only then did Mak Goeng start forward to protect his lord — and Seo Joo-cheon spoke.
"Stop. Take another step, and you'll watch Bulsama's head hit the floor."
The voice had gone utterly still, and it was threat enough and more. Mak Goeng could not bring himself to picture Bulsama's head leaving his shoulders.
"L-li... listen... to... him..."
Bulsama's vocal cords had been cut halfway through; the words would not come out properly. He had no choice but to accept it. He was Seo Joo-cheon's hostage now, and there was no getting around it.
"Release the hostages."
Bulsama gave a faint nod, and Mak Goeng, with visible reluctance, let the captives go. Chains and iron netting clattered to the floor, and Jang Hyeon-nam and the others came free of their bonds. They rose slowly and drew toward where Bulsama stood.
Dang Seol-yong needed a moment simply to gather herself. She had not imagined the situation could reverse itself in a single breath. In truth, she had already accepted death and been settling her heart for it. In a predicament like this, she had believed, no one escaped Bulsama's grip. After watching Daoist Gojin and the Qingcheng Sect disciples die, she had given up early. One of her guards was dead; the one who remained was too badly wounded to fight. She had not spoken of it, but Dang Seol-yong herself carried a sword wound across the chest. The bleeding had been staunched and nothing more — given time, it could still kill her.
And then this man they called the First Hero had fought Bulsama as an equal, and finally taken him hostage. She still could not quite accept that any of it was real. Neither could Jang Hyeon-nam, nor Sang Ryo.
Just what is this man Po Un, really? Has he been hiding his strength all this time?
Sang Ryo had recognized something extraordinary in Seo Joo-cheon back when he killed the Three Evils of Luoyang in this very inn. Even so, he had never imagined the man could subdue Bulsama himself.
"The Blood Heaven Unit will withdraw from the inn."
At Seo Joo-cheon's words, Mak Goeng's face tightened. He did not move.
A wet punch of steel into flesh. Seo Joo-cheon took one of Kang Chu-mi's daggers and drove it straight into the flesh near Bulsama's heart.
"Ghk—!"
Bulsama's whole frame shuddered once.
"You bastard—how dare you!"
Another thud. Seo Joo-cheon rammed a second dagger home.
Seo Joo-cheon was not about to grow careless. Dozens of Blood Heaven Unit warriors were still inside the inn. If they moved, the fight would turn ugly all over again.
"Warriors of the Blood Heaven Unit — withdraw from the inn."
Mak Goeng's voice rang out.
"What guarantee do I have that you'll release Lord Bulsama?!"
Seo Joo-cheon answered with another dagger, driven into the chest.
Thud. Thud.
This time he buried two at once. Four daggers now stood in Bulsama's left chest, describing a neat circle. With every death acupoint around the heart severed, Bulsama's waist finally bent, just slightly.
"You talk too much. I said I wouldn't repeat myself. Even the Undying Demon, I don't believe, can come back from a ruptured heart. Wouldn't you agree, Commander Mak?"
Mak Goeng bit down until his lip split. Instead of answering, Seo Joo-cheon reversed his grip on a dagger and poised it over Bulsama's chest.
"Fine! We'll withdraw!"
With Bulsama as a hostage, Seo Joo-cheon could have bargained with the Blood Heaven Unit. But bargaining would have meant holding the line and nothing more — it would not have given him the advantage. What mattered now was to bully them off the high ground and take it for himself.
"The Blood Heaven Unit will all withdraw from the inn!"
The warriors inside poured out like a receding tide. Mak Goeng, however, stayed.
"You're not leaving?"
"I will remain."
The meaning was plain enough: even if Bulsama died, he would not move. Seo Joo-cheon did not press him further. The Blood Heaven Unit had left the inn, but they had not withdrawn in truth. They still had the building fully surrounded.
Is there no way to force the Blood Heaven Unit into a full retreat? Come on. You're the author. Think.
Seo Joo-cheon turned the problem over as he would a plot. If he were writing this, how would the story move forward from here? He had invented countless deadly scenes and written his way out of every one of them — but facing the same kind of crisis in the flesh, he had nothing. Even the author doesn't have a way out of this.
He glanced over the others. No one had a sharp solution to offer. They had bought themselves a moment's rest, nothing more. They had not yet crawled out of death's throat.
That was when his eyes met Do-eo-ak-jon's. The man had been quietly watching from a corner, rolling his gaze over the room. A window stood directly in front of him — a position that fairly advertised his intent to smash the glass and flee at the first opportunity.
Use Do-eo-ak-jon?
Do-eo-ak-jon alone was not enough to build a plan around.
I need more material.
When a story stalled on the page, the way through was often to throw in more ingredients. If an incident or an episode refused to resolve, the best remedy was to add a new character. Failing that, you grafted on a new event, and the jammed narrative came loose. But new characters and new events still needed to be plausible. Shove them in without cause, and the readers would never buy it. Seo Joo-cheon was in exactly that situation now.
If I don't have the materials, I'll just have to make them.
He turned to Mak Goeng.
"Withdraw the Blood Heaven Unit completely, and we will keep Bulsama safe until we release him."
"And I'm to take your word for that?"
Seo Joo-cheon met the challenge without a pause.
"Do you take us for demonic fiends like yourselves? We are martial men who know how to keep a promise."
"An unorthodox dog, talking like a righteous one. That's precisely why I can't trust you. So what will it take for you to let Lord Bulsama go? I've already sent the Blood Heaven Unit out of the inn."
"You're not hearing me. What we want is a full withdrawal of the Blood Heaven Unit."
"Release Lord Bulsama, and we will withdraw."
"You didn't actually expect me to believe that, did you?"
"You don't have another way out either. Why not compromise here?"
There was a certain reason in Mak Goeng's words. Seo Joo-cheon shook his head anyway.
"No. We're the ones with the advantage. If we simply hold this standoff, Mount Hua's reinforcements will be here soon enough. Why would we compromise? Don't you think?"
"Reinforcements from Mount Hua? You expect me to swallow a lie like that?"
"Hahahaha!"
Seo Joo-cheon threw his head back and laughed.
"You really are a fool. Did you not see the Beggar Sect disciples in this Namcheon Inn? All those beggar-disciples are gone. Where do you suppose they went? You don't think they ran to the Beggar Sect — or to Mount Hua?"
Mak Goeng started. That was a possibility he had not considered at all. He had not seen a single Beggar Sect disciple when they surrounded the inn — and he had, in fact, received reports that beggar-disciples were watching Namcheon Inn. Seo Joo-cheon's words had an uncomfortable ring of truth.
"The Beggar Sect will arrive even sooner than Mount Hua, I'd wager. Care to bet on which of us is right?"
Seo Joo-cheon even had the leisure to sound amused, and Mak Goeng's nostrils twitched. He swallowed dryly, again and again, fighting the urge to take the man's head then and there.
"So you mean for us to simply stand here like this?"
Seo Joo-cheon pursed his lips.
"Have you got a better idea?"
"I do. You mentioned a wager a moment ago. Why don't we make a real one?"
"A real wager?"
"I stake my honor. If I lose, I will withdraw without a word of protest."
"And if I lose?"
Seo Joo-cheon asked.
"Then you surrender Lord Bulsama, of course. Well? Shall we wager?"
It was the only straw Mak Goeng had left to clutch at — this kind of forced play.
"You stake your honor?"
Seo Joo-cheon smiled at that, thin and bright. He knew perfectly well that Mak Goeng was a man who would die for honor. Other promises might be worthless, but if he had invoked his honor, he was the sort who would keep his word.
Because that's how I wrote him.
Seo Joo-cheon nodded.
"I like the sound of that. For a warrior, nothing is more sacred than honor. Even life itself is light beside it."
"Hahahaha! Heavens above! To think I would meet a man who shares my own creed, and only now."
For a moment Mak Goeng looked at Seo Joo-cheon as one looks at a kindred spirit found at last. Every time he had spoken this way, people had treated him like a madman.
"If we were not enemies, we would have drunk the night away together. What a bitter shame."
Seo Joo-cheon understood the surge in Mak Goeng perfectly. And he had touched that nerve on purpose.
"You feel the same, Commander Mak? You understand me when I say that honor is dearer than life."
At that, Ham Cheon-yeong and Kang Chu-mi turned to stare at each other, blinking, with no idea what their Big Brother was talking about.
Big Brother's usual line is that honor can go to the dogs.
But they knew him well enough. Whenever he staged something that ran this hard against himself, he was always running a scheme. So they held their peace, and watched.