Chapter 112
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 112
Chapter Title: The Master (2)
The messenger pigeons released from the temple were pigeons.
Almost every sect favored pigeons for their messenger birds because they were easy to tame.
But why were pigeons so suitable as messenger birds?
Almost no one was unaware that pigeons were used as messengers. Yet hardly anyone knew the real reason behind it.
People just assumed it was because they were easy to tame.
Pigeons possess magnetism in their eyes. That's why they can easily find north. Their sense of direction far surpasses that of other birds.
They also have the advantage of incredible speed. They can cover nearly four hundred li in half a shichen. Their endurance is remarkable too. If they fly nonstop for ten days, they can travel up to three thousand li.
That's why pigeons can't be pursued.
No one can catch a messenger pigeon soaring high in the sky.
Messenger pigeons are the safest means of delivering news.
Whoosh! Thud!
A streak of light shot into the sky. The leisurely flying messenger pigeon plummeted as if struck by lightning.
Pigeon meat tastes good. It's very similar to chicken. Was it a passing hunter snagging a snack? The moonlight was bright, but it was deep into the night—catching a bird flying in the sky seemed unlikely.
Swish!
A hand snatched the falling messenger pigeon out of the air.
Coo! Coo!
The messenger pigeon wasn't dead. Though it had fallen abruptly, it parted its beak slightly and let out a cry.
The pigeon had a message tube tied to its ankle.
The traveler paid no attention to the tube. He wanted to open it, but doing so would render the pigeon worthless as a messenger.
The tube was sealed.
Others might not notice, but those who exchanged messenger pigeons would spot it immediately.
Swish! Swish!
The traveler stroked the pigeon's head. Then he opened his left hand to reveal small insects.
The pigeon regained its strength and stood up. But it didn't fly away right away. Instead, it pecked greedily at the insects the traveler offered, forgetting all about its mission.
The messenger pigeon flew very slowly.
It flew a bit, then rested. After resting, it flew again. It would soar energetically only to return and perch on a branch.
It never hurried.
At nightfall, the messenger pigeon would land on a person's hand and eat the food they provided.
"My hunch was right."
The traveler murmured to himself.
The messenger pigeon ate white termites. It picked out the white termites from the insects and consumed them, becoming one with the traveler. It was as if their souls were intertwined as one.
The messenger pigeon couldn't escape the white termites.
Strictly speaking, it couldn't escape the queen termite implanted in the traveler.
Fly far away, and it would come right back.
If it strayed beyond a certain distance, its homing instinct kicked in, compelling it to return. The instinct to go to the queen termite overrode its direction.
So the messenger pigeon flew slowly.
The traveler ran as far as he could. Even so, a messenger pigeon shouldn't be delayed by just a day or two—but three or four days? That didn't make sense.
He chased the messenger pigeon with all his might.
He was heading to the Heavenly Annihilation Division headquarters. To see it with his own eyes.
Swish!
The messenger pigeon entered a vast manor.
Its destination. But not the Heavenly Annihilation Division headquarters. It seemed like some kind of waystation.
"You're late, you little pest."
The one who caught the messenger pigeon muttered.
He inspected the message tube first. Even if it had arrived on time, he would have checked it—but now that it was so late, he examined it meticulously.
There was nothing wrong with the tube.
Next, he checked the pigeon itself. He lifted its wings, pried open its beak, and even examined its claws.
"What happened to you on the way?"
Only after confirming nothing was amiss did the man remove the message tube.
That evening... something very strange happened.
The messenger pigeon that had arrived during the day suddenly went berserk. It slammed its head against the cage bars and battered them with its wings. It shoved its head into narrow gaps, thrashing desperately to escape.
"What's wrong with you?"
Normally, a single word would calm it.
The one who handled the messenger pigeon was the one who fed it. In the bird's eyes, he must have looked like a god.
But this time, it wouldn't listen.
Coo-coo-coo-coo! Coo-coo-coo!
It cried out mournfully, struggling to break free from the cage. In the end, it got its neck caught and strangled to death.
"What the hell?"
The pigeon keeper pulled out the dead bird and inspected it thoroughly.
There was no reason for it to die.
It hadn't eaten anything bad, nor were there signs of hidden weapons or poison.
He truly couldn't figure out why it had died.
"Were you sick? You arrived two days later than usual and now you're dead."
The keeper didn't think much of losing one pigeon.
Message tubes connect from one messenger pigeon to another.
One enters the manor, and another takes flight into the night.
Whoosh! Thud!
The second pigeon, which had taken off later just like the first, suddenly lost strength and fell.
"Sorry about this."
The traveler... Four Thousand Four fed the pigeon insects with a displeased expression.
He felt the pain.
He had to watch in visions as the pigeons that couldn't keep up thrashed and died.
He hadn't seen the first one die. But the sensation of death was vividly transmitted. And it was just a bird...
The white termites weren't something to feed lightly.
The one he'd just caught would die the same way as the first. It would die in the cage—or if free to fly, it would keep following him.
This would continue forever unless he killed the queen termite inside him.
"Go!"
Four Thousand Four released the pigeon.
Killing sound turns it to silence.
Killing a person is taking life.
These two facts share the commonality of killing, but their meanings are vastly different.
Killing sound means transitioning from one phenomenon to another. From what was there to what was always there in another form.
It requires no force.
Killing a person requires force.
Dying from a lightning strike is the same. The force of the lightning strikes, and the person dies.
Using force creates killing. Without force, it's nothingness.
- Kill everything. Kill sound, form, scent, sensation... But never intend to kill. Only by not killing does true death occur.
What nonsense!
Kill everything, yet don't kill.
Spouting such contradictions makes it seem like there's some profound truth.
What kind of ridiculous drivel is this? If he'd just shut up and vanished after the first part, he might have seemed wise.
That last line turned the old man into a pile of crap.
"I don't get it—it's too hard. Show me a demonstration. Let me see how it's done."
"You idiot, if I knew how, would I need you?"
"You don't know but you're telling me anyway?"
"My ancestors told me to pick a good kid and pass it on when I was about to die."
"So you just relayed the words?"
"What's wrong with relaying words, you punk!"
"Then should I relay them too?"
"Memorize it well and pass it on without forgetting. You might forget now, but someday while living, you'll suddenly remember—'Ah, that's what he meant!' So no need to force memorization. One day, you'll recall my words on your own."
Those words came to mind right before death.
Never give rise to the intent to kill. Just move from here to there. It's not killing, but shifting from life to death.
Kill sound, kill form.
But... didn't he know how to kill? No, he did. Others might not, but Four Thousand Four knew.
To kill sound, you must hear it.
He listened to the tiniest sounds. He heard the sounds he made and controlled them.
In the Nineteen Hells, this became the tread of death.
Hear well to kill well. See well to kill form. Without sound, without sight... flick chopsticks. Not with force, but with intent.
Not ultimate focus, but ultimate relaxation.
Not gathering all qi into one sword. Scatter all qi throughout the body, relaxing down to the bones.
And one more thing... a miracle happened to him.
The queen termite in his body commanded the white termites. To avoid death, it awakened them. It pulled him back from death. Made it so he couldn't die even if he wanted to.
He killed people. But it wasn't killing life. It was non-birth.
He didn't fully grasp this truth yet. He had only recalled the old man's final words. He hadn't wanted to think about it, but it suddenly dawned on him.
Shadowless Steps?
Shadowless Steps—what even was that? He didn't know if such a thing existed.
They were barking up the wrong tree.
Whoosh! Flap flap flap!
The messenger pigeon flew into the night sky, only to turn back and land again.
As expected, it couldn't go far like the first one. It wasn't returning to him, but to the queen termite.
He'd used this method to tail Number Two as well.
The listener heard only a cat's meow. He'd lured a cat to follow from forty jang away.
The listener hadn't heard him approaching.
The same in the river.
The listener heard a duck swimming over. He was actually clinging to the boat's underside, unseen and unheard. Hearing only the duck, the man had held up four fingers.
Coo-coo-coo! Coo!
The messenger pigeon cried out as it looked at him.
It was confused by signals from two directions. There was a place it had to fly to, and a place it couldn't leave.
Such confusion would eventually destroy its sense of direction.
"Alright, let's go."
Swish!
Four Thousand Four shot forward.
Tailing a pigeon was far easier than tailing a person.
Tailing people required considering all sorts of things and staying vigilant, but not with pigeons.
Coo-coo-coo! Coo-coo-coo-coo!
The messenger pigeon let out a long cry as it entered Henan City. Without hesitation, it flew straight into the government office.
The one who received it was unexpectedly an official.
"The first one was two days late, and now you too."
The official muttered in a fairly loud voice, as if for someone to hear.
The official snapped the pigeon's neck.
"From Donyang to here is four days... even by human courier, not pigeon. You must be tired from the long journey. Come out and have some tea."
With those words, the official turned and walked inside. To his private chamber.