Chapter 93
Chapter 93
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 93
Chapter Title: Chapter 9: Main Enemy (5)
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Cheon Wi didn't respond and pressed forward.
The Child Mask was preferable to the White Masks.
He deflected the swinging green wood staff and thrust his dagger forward. The Child Mask paled at the stabbing strike aimed at his torso. He hastily retreated, only to trip over his own feet and tumble backward.
That was Jo Mun's situation.
One stab here, and he could kill him.
But the Child Mask wasn't alone. Green wood staffs and fists rained down from all sides. Dodging them all was overwhelming. Some strikes he parried desperately, others with a bit more leisure. Cheon Wi had no choice but to hurl his body aside without delivering that final lethal blow.
Screeech! Rustle!
'Not yet.'
He poured more strength into his toes.
He bulldozed ahead. His direction was toward the altar.
He ignored the White Masks. He targeted only the Child Masks. The Child Masks wielding green wood staffs collapsed one after another. Few suffered fatal wounds. The fallen ones clutched their injuries and staggered back to their feet. With just the dagger in his hand, his killing power was still insufficient.
He kept burrowing into the center of the enemies.
It looked like suicide to anyone watching.
And it was, in truth. Wounds multiplied across Cheon Wi's body. His clothes were already soaked red with the blood of enemies and himself.
The masked horde's formation fell into chaos.
The incantation from the altar cut off.
That accomplished the primary goal.
However, this many foes were undeniably burdensome. Three or four charged at him per exchange, but he couldn't keep it up forever. Relying on his regeneration had limits. He couldn't re-ingest the blood he'd already spilled. If he lost too much, he'd die like any ordinary man. Undoubtedly. Probably.
"Charging alone into this many with that level of skill—I simply cannot comprehend it."
He finally emerged.
A calm voice rang out from the altar's direction.
It was the change he'd been waiting for.
Beside the golden Four-Eyed Mask presiding over the ritual, a man had appeared out of nowhere.
His face was youthful.
More precisely, he wore a young immortal's mask.
The mask was so exquisitely crafted that it looked like a real person's face at first glance. His hair was tied in a blue scholar's bun, and he held a jade flute in his hand.
Slash! Thud!
Instead of answering, Cheon Wi leaped and struck down another Child Mask.
White Masks and Child Masks swarmed around him.
They rushed in chaotically once more.
That was when it happened.
Piiiieee!
The sudden flute melody rang out, clear and resonant like jade beads rolling across a jade plate.
The Child Masks' and White Masks' attacks halted in an instant.
Cheon Wi did not stop.
Stab!
He seized the moment their movements froze and plunged his dagger into the chest of the White Mask right in front of him.
"Your attacks are truly savage."
Piii!
The flute sounded briefly.
Rustle rustle rustle!
The masks stepped back in unison, assuming defensive stances. Cheon Wi tried to fell one more in that interval but failed. Their defenses were rock-solid.
Step.
The young Immortal Mask descended from the altar to the stone floor.
Even without the flute, the masked throng parted cleanly. A path opened straight to Cheon Wi in the center.
The immortal approached. His footsteps were light and graceful.
"I heard Jang Dan-sa would come. Who are you? Someone sent by the Dan-sa?"
His voice was clear and resonant.
It carried the aura of an immortal who had cultivated the Dao lifelong in deep mountain seclusion, with otherworldly grace permeating his entire being.
"What's a Jang Dan-sa?"
Cheon Wi shot back without decorum.
The Immortal Mask remained serene. Or so it appeared.
"You don't know Jang Dan-sa? Ah, of course. A mortal might not. The alias he bears is Yeom Seoksan."
Just as he'd suspected.
These guys had acted far too conspicuously.
He didn't know what mystical thing this place held, but there was no rule saying the ritual had to be here.
They'd deliberately put on this show.
The Intelligence Squad, wandering fruitlessly for so long, suddenly getting a lead was suspicious too.
They'd drawn in Yeom Seoksan—or Peng Ga.
"As expected, it was a trap."
Cheon Wi said.
But the Immortal Mask countered.
"A trap, you say?"
"What else would you call it?"
The young Immortal Mask turned back. He addressed the golden Four-Eyed Mask.
"Tell me, Gold Diviner. Is what he says true?"
The young Immortal Mask's voice sounded innocently pure, like a child without guile, full of curiosity as he sought answers from anyone.
"Immortal Han Sangja. I merely follow the Supreme Emperor's command."
The four-eyed masked man called the immortal Han Sangja.
Cheon Wi knew that name. No, anyone in the Central Plains who could read would.
Han Sangja was the name of a famously renowned immortal.
Yeo Dongbin, Jongri Gwon, Jang Sa, Yi Cheolgoe, Nam Chaehwa, Jo Gukgu, Han Sangja, and Ha Seongo. The Eight Immortals.
Han Sangja fell silent, as if lost in thought.
Then, he clapped his hands and spoke in a delighted tone.
"Ah, now I get it! Ha Seongo is Jang Dan-sa's daughter, and with Jang Dan-sa's whereabouts unknown, that's why you've gone to such lengths with this Immortal Ritual! No wonder! You could've summoned an immortal descent in the Eight Immortals' Cave, so why come all this way!"
Han Sangja turned his head to Cheon Wi.
"I'm truly grateful! The mortal world has so much to teach! You shall be my master too!"
'Crazy bastard.'
Cheon Wi kept the thought from escaping his lips.
Surrounded by clubs and blades, he expressed pure childish joy and gratitude. Despite commanding this horde, he didn't even know why they were here.
An enigma beyond rational explanation.
Perhaps that was the true nature of these masks.
One of the Daoist Eight Immortals, the young Han Sangja asked again.
"So, where is Jang Dan-sa?"
This question lacked any boyish innocence.
Cheon Wi's instincts blared a warning.
This one was dangerous.
The immortal aura flowing through him signified profound inner energy. Its depth was extraordinary. He didn't seem old, but without seeing his real face, youth couldn't be assumed. Even if the face beneath was young, it was the same. Rejuvenation in old age wasn't mere legend. There were real cases. Judging by youthful looks and behavior would be a mistake. Ordinary martial artists fell for it. Judging foes by appearance invited disaster.
"Is Jang Dan-sa a title?"
Cheon Wi parried.
His body brimmed with inner energy, jade flute in hand, poised lightly without the slightest gap.
Fighting was impossible.
Cheon Wi had never seen this man's martial arts. To counter anything, he'd need at least ten exchanges. But in a fight, he wouldn't last that long.
The man was that much of an expert.
Crazy or not, his skills were beyond Cheon Wi's reach.
"You could say that. Jang Dan-sa is the sorcerer who summons the true forms of immortals, gods, ghosts, and demons."
"Is Yeom Seoksan that sorcerer?"
"Didn't I already say as much?"
"Weren't you trying to drive him out from the start? Why seek him so desperately now?"
He didn't expect an answer.
Cheon Wi couldn't fend off this Immortal Mask, let alone the minions.
It was to buy time.
Yet Han Sangja's retort was unexpected again.
"Us driving him out? What do you mean?"
It sounded like genuine ignorance.
Cheon Wi answered.
"The Flame Jade Merchant Guild bloodbath."
"Bloodbath? Who died?"
'Well now.'
Han Sangja wasn't some rejuvenated old master.
If he were a sly fox feigning youth, he wouldn't react like this. He'd have seen through Cheon Wi's stalling ages ago.
Han Sangja was truly curious.
An immortal who had attained enlightenment yet yearned to know the world. Utterly immersed in his mask's identity—almost one with it.
"They raided the Flame Jade Merchant Guild, torched Yeom Seoksan's home, and slaughtered his household. I know it was you bastards."
"Us?"
Han Sangja raised his voice in shock.
He stood still, but his tone conveyed utter astonishment, as if leaping in disbelief. He turned back to the golden Four-Eyed Mask and asked.
"Gold Diviner, what's this about? Burning the Dan-sa's house? The Supreme Emperor wouldn't allow that. Was it the Demon Mask Union?"
"Don't be swayed by a mortal's words, Immortal. Persecuting the Dan-sa? The Supreme Emperor wouldn't permit such a thing."
"Eh?"
Han Sangja let out a sharp exclamation and stared intently at the golden Four-Eyed Mask.
After a moment, he spoke again.
"Dan-sa, why lie to me?"
Cheon Wi's brow furrowed.
'What the hell...'
"No, Immortal. It's not like that..."
"Forgotten? My ears distinguish truth from lies. Speak plainly. Is what he says true?"
The golden Four-Eyed Mask fell silent for a time.
At last, he continued in resignation.
"It wasn't the gods and demons acting directly. But even if others had different intentions, I'm still the Dan-sa, no? I believe it was others who did the deed."
If Cheon Wi weren't surrounded by the masks, he'd find this exchange riveting.
Han Sangja asked again.
"So, the Supreme Emperor knew and allowed it?"
"Nothing in the world escapes the Supreme Emperor's knowledge."
"Hmm."
Han Sangja sighed heavily, as if pondering a weighty matter, and bowed his head.
Then, he nodded briskly and spoke in a bright tone.
"If he knew, then all's well!"
He was clearly not right in the head.
His train of thought was bizarre.
Expecting sanity from someone role-playing an immortal via mask was absurd to begin with. Han Sangja turned back to Cheon Wi.
He spoke as if apologizing.
"There must have been circumstances! If the Dan-sa abandoned his calling and defied divine will, it was right to send the Demon Masks to end his life. I don't know why borrow others' hands and complicate things."
It was a point that had puzzled Cheon Wi too.
If they'd wanted Yeom Seoksan dead, it could've been done quietly. Two or three experts of Han Sangja's caliber would've ensured his demise effortlessly.
They'd deliberately let him escape.
That was why he'd used the term "driven out."
What didn't make sense was permitting flight, then trying to reel him back in.
If they could kill him easily from the start, capturing him alive was equally feasible. If they needed something, they could've seized and extracted it. Especially since Yeom Seoksan doted on his daughters. Holding them hostage would've bent him to any demand—they were that beloved.