Rage (1)
The canyon was packed black with the forces of the Golden Merchant Group. Yeon-hoo slipped inside using stealth techniques, then moved toward the sounds of battle along the base of the cliff, as close as possible.
Jagged rocks thrusting upward, a forest artfully arranged for cover, and the thick steam wafting a foul stench all aided his advance.
Boom!
Rumble...
"Senior brother!"
"Sect leader senior brother!"
An explosion rocked the battlefield, followed by agonized screams. Whatever had detonated sent small rocks tumbling from the cliff face with the vibrations.
Plip! Plop!
Thud!
As the Golden Merchant Group's experts dodged the falling debris and fell back toward the center, Yeon-hoo picked up his pace.
Then, silence fell. No more clash of combat, no more cries.
He enhanced his vision with inner energy, but the thickening steam limited his sight to less than twenty jang.
'Have they all been wiped out?'
Yeon-hoo decided to press forward a bit more and melted into the steam.
Scorching heat clawed at his breath, but he minimized his breathing and pushed on. Amid the acrid sulfur stench, the thick reek of blood hung heavy.
"What the hell!"
Had he been spotted? Someone shouted. Yeon-hoo placed a hand on his sword hilt and glanced toward the voice. Fortunately, it was aimed at one of his own allies.
Yeon-hoo continued. After passing two boiling hot springs, the steam began to part, revealing glimpses of the horrific scene.
Blood and death were everyday sights to him. Yet an inexplicable dread made his hairs stand on end, gooseflesh rippling across his skin.
'What is this?'
It was strange. He had come to save the Mudan Sect, but their annihilation shouldn't provoke such a reaction.
Then it caught his eye—a very familiar back.
Someone lay sprawled face-down, seemingly dead. The steam obscured details, but the silhouette was unmistakable.
The first thought that flashed through his mind: Yuksoon and Seo-wi-ryang. If those two, who had arrived in the city first, had been moving with the Mudan Sect...
His hairs stood on end again, a chill sweeping through him.
"Hey!"
Someone embraced the fallen figure. As he moved, parting the steam, the face came into sharp focus.
It was Jin Myeong.
Yeon-hoo's gaze slowly drifted from Jin Myeong's face to the one half-buried in his arms.
It trembled faintly.
Yuksoon.
* * *
Yeon-hoo approached Yuksoon. The Golden Merchant Group's experts, having halted their assault after Jin Hoe's self-detonation, failed to spot him amid the dense steam. Or if they did, they dismissed him as just another Mudan Sect Taoist who had been there from the start.
Jin Myeong, clutching Yuksoon and trembling with grief, spotted the approaching Yeon-hoo and his eyes quivered.
"Step aside."
The cold voice pierced through Yeon-hoo's lips. Jin Myeong quietly laid Yuksoon down.
Yeon-hoo knelt on one knee and gazed at him. The peaceful face, as if merely asleep, seemed ready to spring up at any moment with a grin directed at him.
Yeon-hoo lifted Yuksoon into his arms and headed toward the rear cliff wall where the Mudan Sect disciples had gathered.
Two massive hot springs bubbled furiously at its base, spewing endless steam that kept everyone at bay.
It was the spot where the Mudan Sect Taoists, realizing their end had come, had been steeling themselves to leap to their deaths.
Yeon-hoo entered it.
Moments later, the steam swallowed him whole.
Up to that point, none of the Golden Merchant Group's experts—including Gal Ui-in—had paid Yeon-hoo any mind.
It was the void left by Jin Hoe's suicide that made it possible.
Jin Myeong stared as Yeon-hoo vanished into the steam. By now, Yeon-hoo's arrival and identity meant nothing to him.
With Jin Hoe's death, Jin Myeong had abandoned all hope. The other disciples felt the same.
No trace of fear of death showed in those stepping forward to flank him. Those forced to hang back in the cramped space smiled encouragingly at their advancing comrades.
"I'll follow soon."
"Tell our sect leader senior brother we'll see him shortly."
Some harbored grudges. Some shed tears. Others trembled with rage.
Gal Ui-in had no intention of tolerating the Mudan Sect's resolve.
"I'll give you another chance. Hand over the one from the kidnapping site. Do that, and I'll let you all follow your sect leader to the afterlife without suffering."
Gal Ui-in was irritated. If extermination had been the goal, it would have ended long ago.
But Wang-jeok's supreme order was to bring back alive the one tied to Wang Ho's abduction.
To him, Wang-jeok was not a lord, but a god.
Because of that, they had suffered needless losses. The most painful was losing an entire Ghost Corps member.
The silver lining: the other Ghost Corps held back in rage over their comrade's death, waiting their turn.
"Even in death, shouldn't you meet your departed comrades with intact bodies? That's what your Taoist path pursues, or so I've heard. In that sense, your sect leader did you all a rotten disservice. Heh heh heh."
Shrieeek!
A sword hurtled like lightning with a piercing whistle.
Gal Ui-in casually twisted his waist to dodge, and it impaled the throat of someone standing behind him.
Thud!
"Gahk!"
Even at his subordinate's death, Gal Ui-in didn't blink. He bared his teeth in a grin at Jin Myeong, who had thrown the sword.
"It's because of those bastards that your Mudan Sect faces destruction. Without them, you'd be lounging in peace on Mudang Mountain, cultivating the Tao in idle bliss... Don't you resent them?"
Gal Ui-in's words tore Jin Myeong's heart to shreds.
'Yes, it's my fault. Because of me, our sect...'
Tears streamed from Jin Myeong's bloodshot eyes. Self-recrimination and regret surged from the depths of his chest, raggedening his breath.
Jin Myeong turned to his disciples.
Crunch!
Blood trickled from lips bitten deep by his teeth. The tears rolling down his cheeks had turned to crimson streaks.
A voice thick with grief escaped his lips.
"All of you... depart with dignity."
His implication of suicide ignited furious resolve in them.
"Senior uncle!"
"We'll die fighting! Don't give up, senior uncle!"
"Yes! That's the spirit of Mudan!"
Jin Myeong shook his head.
"I no longer have the strength to watch you die in agony."
With those final words, he turned and addressed Gal Ui-in.
"I kidnapped your little lord."
"Prove it."
"I used a four-horse carriage as bait. He was brazenly riding in the one disguised to carry the goods. Bonus: he begged for his life, bawling like a child."
Details no one absent from the scene could know. Gal Ui-in believed him outright.
In truth, Jin Myeong hadn't witnessed Yeon-hoo abducting Wang Ho. He could describe it precisely because he had seen unrelated men disembark from the four-horse carriage he assumed held Wang Ho. The "bonus" detail was something anyone could fabricate.
Wang Ho was already dead, after all.
"Come out, you bastard."
Jin Myeong walked toward Gal Ui-in.
"Senior uncle!"
"Division leader!"
Jin Myeong didn't halt.
Gal Ui-in watched him approach with relief.
'If even that bastard hadn't stepped up...'
Thinking of Wang Ho's wrath sent chills down his spine.
But now that worry was gone. All that remained was waiting for Poison Eye Sword Heo Hoe, pursuing the Hwasan Sect survivors, to return empty-handed.
"Subdue him."
"Yes."
Two yellow-robed warriors stepped forward from behind Gal Ui-in.
That was when it happened.
Boom!
Jin Myeong surged forward. Like Jin Hoe, he channeled his remaining inner energy into a mutual destruction strike aimed at Gal Ui-in.
"What!"
The two yellow-robes moving to intercept couldn't react in time. Jin Myeong closed in on Gal Ui-in.
Gal Ui-in scoffed.
"Hmph! As if, you fool."
But someone moved first: the Ghost Corps member.
Unnaturally silent despite his comrade's death, he thrust hook-like fingers at Jin Myeong's nape. So swift were they that dozens of afterimages trailed in their wake.
Gal Ui-in shouted at the Ghost Corps.
"We need him alive! Back off now!"
In the split-second duel where life and death hung by a thread, Gal Ui-in erred by turning to the Ghost Corps even as Jin Myeong charged him.
That mistake gave Jin Myeong his golden opportunity.
But the outcome was bitterly disappointing.
Splat!
Blood sprayed from Gal Ui-in's waist. Jin Myeong's sword failed to deliver a fatal blow, merely grazing it.
A distance he could have bridged in his prime. But with his deep wounds and depleted inner energy from relentless battle, striking down a stronger foe like Gal Ui-in had been impossible from the start.
Crack!
The Ghost Corps' hand clamped Jin Myeong's throat.
Simultaneously, Gal Ui-in's sword slashed at the Ghost Corps' wrist.
Clang!
Sparks flew near the wrist with a metallic ring. It didn't sever, but the Ghost Corps had to release Jin Myeong's neck.
Thud!
A late-jumping yellow-robe's strike sent Jin Myeong flying far to crash on the ground.
Gal Ui-in coldly warned the Ghost Corps.
"Interfere once more, and I'll hold your Blood Clan responsible—not you!"
The Ghost Corps silently retreated.
Clutching his waist, Gal Ui-in glared at Jin Myeong. Conscious but motionless, staring at the sky from where he lay.
"Stubborn bastards... What are you waiting for? Kill them all!"
Jin Myeong, hearing Gal Ui-in's voice, raised a hand to his temple, aiming for the fatal point.
He lacked the resolve to watch his disciples die.
He intended to end it himself.
A yellow-robe rushed to seal his acupoints.
But before reaching him, the warrior's head flew.
Splat!
The severed head rolled to land before Gal Ui-in's feet.
Gal Ui-in's eyes widened in an instant as a wretched death cry pierced his ears.
"Kwaaak!"
"Uwaaak!"
Whirling reflexively, Gal Ui-in saw a mob charging into the canyon, sowing chaos in the rear.
"Hand over that big skull! You fucking dogs!"
"Gotta grind money-grubbers like you underfoot—that's the best way!"
Crunch!