Chapter 92
Chapter 92
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 92
Chapter Title: Chapter 9 Main Enemy (4)
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Two white-masked fiends climbed up to the high gate and removed the Ma Gu Temple plaque.
The fiends who appeared below held another plaque adorned with ornate floral decorations. They lifted it up. The white-masked fiends clinging to the top hung the new plaque from below high up. The three characters reading "Haseon Temple" on the plaque flowed with elegant brushstrokes.
The white-masked fiends scattered into the encroaching patches of darkness everywhere.
People dressed in colorful clothes like flower-viewing guests began appearing from the mountainside and swarmed toward the shrine that had now become Haseon Temple. All of them wore masks. Faceless white masks were the most common. Here and there, child masks could be seen. Each held a small pink flag, and in their hands were lotus flowers not yet fully bloomed.
They shuffled in one direction.
The eerie procession passed the main hall and continued to the rear garden where the waterfall roared loudly.
The moon shone brightly.
Moonlight shattered and scattered in the spray of the waterfall.
In the misty center of the rear garden shrouded in water vapor stood a single altar. A woman lay atop that altar. The fiends' floral procession circled around the altar. Everything visible under the starlit moonlit night felt unreal. Eerily bizarre.
"Om...."
With a strange incantation, a man dressed in flowing robes appeared.
The man wore a mask like all the others. Over his shoulders hung black leather.
The mask had four eyes. What seemed to have once been a golden divine mask was worn in places, its color faded. It looked extremely old and ancient.
He carried a spear and shield, but the spear tip was blunt and dull, and the shield was small like an ornament.
He stood before the altar.
He swung the spear and shield this way and that; his movements seemed clumsy yet held an uncanny rhythm. Like a dance, like martial arts. Watching it felt mesmerizing.
It was a ritual.
The golden four-eyed mask before the altar led the ceremony.
He moved like in a dance, chanted spells, pointed the spear at the sky, then placed the shield on the ground.
As if he had performed it for an exceedingly long time, the flow was natural without any hindrance.
And far away, atop the roof of a building in the inner courtyard of the shrine, two friends watched the scene.
"What's covering their faces?"
"That's it."
"What?"
"Sul."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"How?"
"Smell."
"Smell my ass. From this far."
"Virgins are different."
Oho shook his head vigorously at Cheonwi's words.
"Fine, say it's true. Then what do we do about that...?"
"What do you mean?"
Cheonwi undid his hair tied up on top. His moderately long hair scattered around his shoulders.
He lightly set down the large wooden helmet box he had been carrying on his back onto the roof.
"We stop it."
"What? You know what that ritual is?"
"That's why we stop it—because we don't."
Cheonwi opened the lid of the wooden helmet box.
The golden blade cradled moonlight, shining faintly.
Cheonwi did not take out the golden blade. Instead, he pulled out a small silk pouch stuffed beside it.
"Take it."
He tossed it over, and Oho lifted it to eye level.
The texture and smell inside felt familiar. Oho asked back.
"Water Star Pill?"
"Yeah."
"Why now?"
"Use it when it's dangerous."
Oho immediately tucked the pouch into his bosom.
There were many masked fiends. Over fifty just from those visible in this bizarre ritual. It already looked dangerous.
Cheonwi pulled out a crumpled bamboo hat from the corner of the wooden helmet box. He twisted it once, and it unfurled into a long cylindrical shape. A common style in the stormy southwest. He pulled it down over his head, covering down to his chin. He lightly swept the disheveled hair sticking out below back behind his neck.
Next came the upper garment.
Cheonwi suddenly took off his top.
He raised his right arm to shoulder height. Oho gritted his teeth.
"Cut it again?"
"Have to. Eyes everywhere."
"Fuck."
Cheonwi was right.
They had come here stealthily so far, but not anymore. Twenty-four covert agents had entered Ma Gu Mountain. From Jiangxi, Anhui, Hubei, even Zhejiang branches.
Naturally, many knew Cheonwi. Some had even trained together in the covert division. He couldn't hide from them, no matter what. A bamboo hat covering his face wasn't enough.
Slash! Spurt!
Blood sprayed.
He caught the falling arm, lightly sealed its acupoints, and placed it in the wooden helmet box.
No choice.
To show himself to people, he needed to be missing one arm.
This sucked.
He'd done this only a couple times. Someday, he had to solve it somehow. Cutting and reattaching like this—as Oho's devastated expression showed—wasn't something a person should do.
"Go first."
He slung the wooden helmet box containing the golden blade and arm back onto his back.
Soon, the bleeding from the severed right arm stump stopped. Putting on clothes completed the prep.
Cheonwi leaped down from the roof. His right sleeve flapped empty. His left hand was bare, without even a sword.
"Fuck, what's the plan?"
Oho whispered as low as he could, urgently.
"Insects, frogs, snakes."
Without turning his head, Cheonwi uttered the three words: insect-frog-snake.
It meant the chain of predator and prey.
Wait for the chance. Wait and wait again, become the snake that devours the frog at the insect gate. Or endure more to become the snake hunter that catches all three.
It wasn't a premeditated plan.
Cheonwi had just decided on the spot.
Oho ground his clenched teeth.
"Why rush so much?"
They'd hear him at this rate.
Cheonwi didn't care.
"We have to stop that thing."
Under the waterfall's moonlight, the altar ritual was intensifying.
The golden four-eyed mask's movements grew more fervent. The chants sped up.
Cheonwi kicked off the ground.
Oho glanced around the empty surroundings needlessly once more, drew his black-and-white sword, and raised his inner energy, ready to spring out anytime.
Cheonwi was already far ahead.
He rapidly closed in on the masked crowd.
Soon, a few child-masked ones at the rear turned to look at Cheonwi. He hadn't hidden his presence at all. It would be weirder if they hadn't noticed by now.
Thud! Clang!
Three child masks immediately kicked off the ground.
'No questions?'
As if they'd been waiting.
Cheonwi trusted his senses. If it felt that way, it was.
Whoosh! Boom!
Cheonwi lightly shifted his foot sideways.
Dirt and grass exploded from the ground.
Somehow, pink flags and lotus flowers had been replaced in their hands with indigo wooden clubs.
Cheonwi dodged the three clubs while gauging their martial arts.
Their charging footwork was nimble. The way they swung the clubs to strike was clear and precise.
Honest and upright style. Straightforward assault. Martial arts perfect for demonstrations in broad daylight before crowds.
He leaned back to evade a club tip.
The club end grazed his collar perilously close.
Close call.
Another club's low sweep came at him. He lifted his leg to dodge.
Next targeted his head. He crouched and retreated.
Whoosh!
Another came.
Excellent linkage. Perfect for chain assaults.
Tap!
As he retreated, he pushed the club's midsection with his toe. The child mask's stance crumbled momentarily.
'Behind.'
Swoosh!
No need to look.
He stepped forward, and the whoosh of air brushed his back.
'Low.'
Crack!
He kicked off the ground and launched sideways.
He leaped over the sweeping indigo club as if by appointment.
That was straightforward style.
Moves came exactly where expected. Honest paths made prediction easy.
Whoosh! Flutter!
Following the three, three more child masks charged.
Six now.
Cheonwi remained calm. His movements flowed smoothly like water. He stamped his heel, spun his body. Two indigo clubs missed entirely.
In that instant, Cheonwi shot into the bosom of one child mask.
Thud!
He rammed his left shoulder into the fiend's chest.
The child mask dropped its club and tumbled across the ground. Not enough power to kill. Clutching his chest as he rose, panic was clear.
Crack!
Even with five clubs now, Cheonwi's counters were free.
As he retreated, he kicked one fiend's shin.
The fiend collapsed limply.
'Incomplete...!'
Such straightforward styles grew stronger with practice, but until mastery, they were riddled with weaknesses.
Cheonwi judged.
Too early for real combat. Their group coordination was decent, but to reach full power, they needed at least two or three more years of refinement. The problem was after that. Properly trained for five years or more, six of them could easily stall a master. In a few years, they'd be a force in the martial world not to ignore.
Flutter!
This time, white masks joined.
Some bare-handed, some with daggers.
These differed from the child masks. Temperaments varied. Some rough, some scattered. Movements similar overall, but they seemed to have learned the martial art recently.
'These are different.'
More variables.
If child masks had trained together from the start, white masks felt like ragtag warriors hastily grouped and drilled.
On average, child masks had superior skill. Most white masks were weak, but a strong one popped up unexpectedly.
Whoosh! Rip!
Dodging clubs and fists while retreating, one dagger finally tore his hem and grazed flesh. From a white mask.
Ordinary warriors might see white masks as easier, but not Cheonwi. Chaotic attacks made finding openings harder.
Child masks were preferable.
Surrounded in layers.
Without a sword, Cheonwi couldn't instantly kill with counterattacks. No time to draw the golden blade from the box on his back. He hadn't planned to yet anyway.
Swoosh!
One white mask swung a dagger.
Getting familiar.
Swish!
Cheonwi reached out, wrapping the white mask's wrist.
In the next moment, the dagger was in Cheonwi's hand. Golden Claw Technique.
Thrust!
Now he had lethality.
He spun the dagger in an instant and jammed it into the white mask's nape.
Spurt!
Blood sprayed. The stench was foul.
The white mask clutched his neck and collapsed limply.
Splash!
Cheonwi wasn't unscathed.
An unusually fast dagger grazed his shoulder. Red blood splattered.