Chapter 7
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Shatter - 1
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Far-off mountain slopes.
An old man in a robe stared piercingly at the night sky. The darkness of the night was deep.
In the cold air, the blackness of the heavens gazed back at the old man. The dark, thick void rippled, surged, and at times washed in and out like water. The old man's wrinkled eyes took in the darkness like a lake. A multitude of emotions flickered in his trembling pupils, only to settle at last into the calm ripples of a clear day.
The old man was over seventy this year. Nearly a full cycle of sixty years had passed since he first set foot at the base of Wudang Mountain, and only then had he learned, with his dull talents, how to master his heart.
Perhaps the Supreme Emperor permitted him to glimpse the heavenly secrets for that reason alone. The old man sometimes thought so. To read the heavenly secrets required a state of no-mind, or perhaps stillness. At times, it demanded nothing less.
"The wind is biting. You'll catch your death standing there like that."
"If I fall ill, that too must be the will of the Supreme Emperor."
A aged voice rang clear from behind him. He didn't turn. It was an old friend, after all.
The old man kept his gaze fixed on the sky. He stared at the stars and the darkness in silence. If only today's heavenly signs had been visible to the friend at his side. He had come from a place that pursued stillness...
"What happened at Mount Song?"
"Elder Brother Xu Guang said he dreamed a strange dream while napping."
The clear voice paused for a moment before continuing.
"When he went out to the courtyard, a bird was gasping its last breath, its blood turning black as ink before transforming into a demon. The dream was so vivid that the stench of that black blood still lingers, he said to pass along."
"Even the Living Buddha of Shaolin had such a dream."
"It's because our enlightenment is still lacking. Amitabha. What of the sky that you, Sword Venerable, are beholding?"
The monk, Advancing Vajra Xu Lü, stood beside the old man. But the sky Xu Lü saw was the same as yesterday and today. The pure skies over Wudang Mountain's sacred grounds were filled with brightly shining stars, a single beautiful painting. Doubt crept in. What did the Wudang Sword Venerable see in this sky? What could he be seeing to fill his eyes with endless worry?
The old man's eyes narrowed. His pupils were fixed on a star on the verge of birth. A supernova writhing in agony, something buried in the darkness slowly revealing itself. The old man recalled ancient texts. He calculated the books he had read, the I Ching, the principles of life, and the ominous aura blanketing the heavens.
The result was unchanged, as always. It pointed to one thing alone.
"It is tragic."
The night sky was like an intricate set of gears. At times, something inauspicious disrupted the flow of the celestial bodies. Yet all such things flared and faded, never lasting long. That was the natural order and reason. Thus, heaven's net missed nothing, and its weave bore no seams.
A meteor signaling rebellion burned out in a day. A comet foretelling disaster lasted less than a week. The malign star of the Thousand Kills Star vanished without trace after ten sleepless nights.
But behold that star. The star burning blood-red. It was clear in the old man's eyes. Flanked left and right by the Thousand Kills Star and the Fierce Light Star, countless dark stars trailed behind it like an army. That star...
It had already blazed for two full months without fading.
The heavenly secrets foretold the future: a three-year rebellion crushed in a day. The star of the Thousand Kills Star, which scarred the martial world for a decade, vanished in ten days. Yet this star had shone for over two months. Never had Wudang Sword Venerable Tai Liang felt the weight of his burden so heavily. He knew not how to explain the chain of blood and hatred that would stretch on endlessly. Lacking confidence, he uttered only a single sentence.
"It will be nothing but tragedy..."
In the crisp, silent night of Wudang Mountain, the old man and the monk heard the cry of some beast from afar.
"Kaaarrgh!"
A scream echoed. Thud—something fell. Along with aftershocks of wails: uwaaack, aaaack.
"Next."
The voice was icy. The sword was icy. The blade was cold, devoid of mercy, honed sharp enough to cleave anything. The way it swung was like a winter gale, and thus the martial folk called its owner the Gale Sword.
Thwack—the Gale Sword kicked away the severed right hand of a villager. It belonged to a middle-aged man rolling on the ground like a dog. His face, smeared with tears and snot, was hideous; he grimaced in disgust. The lowly folk of Guangdong were subjects of the Huangfu, so why did these people refuse loyalty to the Huangfu Clan?
No wonder they wielded sickles instead of swords. Nausea rose in him. The flames sweeping the fields had a certain charm, so he wanted to finish quickly and have a drink. With that small wish, the Gale Sword's blade turned toward a new man.
"Tell me everything you know."
"I don't know, milord! I don't know anything! I swear I know nothing!"
"Is that so?"
Step—the bloodied sword drew a fraction closer. The young man's face drained of color. His mind raced. A wrong answer meant losing a hand. No hand meant no sickle. His eyes twitched madly left and right like a man plagued by parasites. Only one name came to mind.
Flash Guest. Flash Guest. A name he'd never heard, but it was all he could grasp. Yet his mind went blank; nothing came. Click—his frantic thoughts hit a wall. From his desperate heart leaked a resentful mutter.
"Fuck, how the hell am I supposed to know someone from two hundred years ago... Kaaarrgh!"
"Next."
The Gale Sword twisted the blade from the young man's heart and yanked it free. Thud—the corpse flew across the yard with one kick. Whoosh—blood sprayed from the stylish swing. A warrior's sword was like his life; left stained with blood, the edge would dull. The Gale Sword surveyed the crowd. Forty villagers salvaged from the burning village. Thirty left now.
That was at least seven out of ten saved. Still, his heart raced. The Dragon Star Clan was drawing ever closer to the Palm Treasure Blade, to the Flash Guest's legacy, moment by moment...
"Anyone who knows of the Flash Guest, step forward. A tael of gold is yours."
Silence.
Terror, despair, and someone's sobs. Irritation gnawed at the Gale Sword again.
"Don't worry. I have great patience."
The Huangfu Clan was righteous. No one had wanted it to come to this.
The Palm Treasure Blade had appeared amid their declining house.
It was undoubtedly real. The secret chamber containing the final insights of the Flash Guest—foremost expert in two hundred years—had last been traced to this village. Too tempting a bait; they had squeezed every drop from the clan to whittle rivals down to two.
Yet they had wished to buy the information honorably with coin, and if all went to plan, lavish rewards upon this village. They asked little. Just the vague information these folk had given the Dragon Star Clan—that was all. After that, their lives meant nothing; all would be freed.
But.
"S-Sir... I, I don't know what you're talking about. We never mingled with those Dragon Star bastards."
"Are you saying our clan's warriors lied?"
"M-M-Mountain Immortal, sir. Save us. Mountain Immortal."
They just kept spewing that vile nonsense. Boom—he stomped the ground, and the people trembled. Irritation surged. The Gale Sword didn't much care for intimidation. One more beheading? The boy's pleas to some local spirit were noisy.
As the Gale Sword's blade flashed, someone gripped his shoulder. A thick, large hand.
"That's enough. I'll handle the rest myself."
"Clan Leader."
A nine-chi giant cast a shadow. The giant took the Gale Sword's place. He stroked the boy's head and asked. His pot-lid hand was warm. He and the boy shared a brief, quiet exchange.
"Child. What sort of being is the Mountain Immortal?"
"Hic, the M-Mountain Immortal is super str-strong, and pr-protects us."
"What does he look like?"
"He wears a cool crown, carries a sword, and, hic."
"Carries a sword?"
The boy nodded before uttering a few words, and the giant smiled.
"That's enough. Off you go."
"But Clan Leader, the Dragon Star Clan is already scaling the wild hills."
"Even if we set out now, we won't catch them. They don't know the exact location either. Fortunately, I've found a clue, so we're not necessarily too late. Let's head to that shrine in the hills."
"The Mountain Immortal's shrine?"
"We start with what we can. Even Zhang Sanfeng is revered as Sword Immortal by the folk. Ever think the Mountain Immortal might be the Flash Guest?"
Thud, thud—the giant strode out of the cramped yard. Sword-bearing warriors followed in a flurry. His deep-set eyes gauged the distance to the wild hills. The path was blocked here and there by raging flames set by the Dragon Star Clan to hinder the Huangfu pursuit. Man Ghost Prodigy indeed—that name lived up to its cunning.
"The flames are fierce."
The giant's words as he glanced at the path ahead. People huddled shivering inside thatched homes. Would they be freed? Was the terror finally ending? They thought only of fleeing without looking back.
Then—a young warrior whispered to the giant. Their private words flowed secretly.
"Clan Leader, we've shown blood. Shouldn't we silence them?"
"It'll bring fortune; no need. A sword should taste blood only when necessary. However."
"Your command."
"With flames this fierce, I'm worried. A stray ember, and it all burns—houses and all inside..."
The giant bared his teeth in a hideous grin. Was it for someone, or mere musing? Only the Huangfu Clan warriors, honored with those two final syllables, knew the intent. And so the Huangfu Clan headed for the shrine.