Chapter 146
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 146
Chapter Title: Heavenly Annihilation Division (1)
It felt like they had just fought a full-scale war.
Corpses had been scattered everywhere moments ago, but now silence reigned as if nothing had ever happened.
Was the water still thick with the blood of slaughter?
What about the forest? Were venomous insects still crawling about? Did poisonous mist bloom every time the grass was touched?
Everything had vanished as if washed clean.
"Hoo... ha..."
With a deep exhale, he finished circulating his energy and regulating his breathing.
His body seemed fine. No, it couldn't be entirely fine. The wounds from the sword were deep and severe enough to require at least half a year of recuperation. Yet he could still move.
An unknown golden wound salve had been applied to his injuries.
It wasn't the Zhuge family's famous ointment. Then had Mian Sosal applied it? Why would she treat him only to leave? Was it because she wanted nothing to do with an assassin? Pride, perhaps?
Various thoughts bubbled up, only to be dismissed from his mind.
For now, it was better to simply gaze at the serene lake.
The lake said nothing. Its calm surface rippled occasionally, a sight most pleasing.
Zhuge Soso was safe.
The assassin instinctively sensed the safe distance.
When facing an enemy or fleeing, this range felt secure.
Of course, this safe distance was based on his own standards. If a supreme expert far beyond his level appeared, it would shatter instantly.
He had read Dosun. Sword Sage, too, and even Poison Master.
He could gauge their levels of prowess.
The one he couldn't read was Bukmyeong... but Bukmyeong planned to use the Southern Fortress, so he wouldn't kill him.
Thus, the safe distance held.
By his judgment, Zhuge Soso was secure. She had escaped the forest unharmed. She was probably heading toward the Zhuge family now, without further attacks.
She came to mind.
The stab wound to her abdomen... she must have treated it properly, right?
The cut on her neck worried him too. The neck was so exposed; a scar there would stand out.
Above all, he fretted over the mental blow she must have suffered.
She had taken his words at face value. She had no choice. The Evil Spirit Guidance he used was a nefarious art that manipulated another's soul and reason.
Though the Evil Spirit Guidance was an evil art, the Death Precepts held it in high regard.
No one truly wished for death. Even those on the brink, with their final breaths fading, would instinctively wave away words like, "Let it all go now and pass on peacefully."
Death was that terrifying.
That's why the Evil Spirit Guidance was employed. It granted peace to the soul and instilled the notion that death held no fear—hence its acceptance, evil art or not.
He had used it on Zhuge Soso.
He had spoken softly, but she must have heard him clearly.
His tone was calm, yet to her, it sounded like the shameless words of a lecherous demon.
The result of invoking the Evil Spirit Guidance in reverse.
Instead of peace, he sowed anxiety; instead of serenity, revulsion.
All who heard him would sense the incarnation of a lustful demon.
That sensation was intensely vivid, not easily erased. Being something felt and internalized through the body, it resisted rational dismissal.
Having used the Evil Spirit Guidance, his ties to Zhuge Soso were severed.
No matter where or when they met again, she would instantly recall the lecherous demon.
'Good enough. Our paths diverge... forget it.'
He chuckled wryly and shook his head. His hand patted his chest.
Many items remained inside his robes.
The things Zhuge Soso had handed him were intact. Permits to enter the Heavenly Annihilation Division.
'This is all I need.'
Four Thousand Four rose, brushing the dirt from his backside.
Every movement made the wounds throb sharply. The pain stabbed like a knife, seeping into his bones.
He closed his eyes, shut his ears, pinched his nose... struggling not to read the deaths around him.
Deaths arose from all directions. Yet he strove not to interfere with any.
Ignoring agonizing deaths was no easy task.
For one attuned to the Death Precepts, passing a suffering soul was like walking past an infant freezing to death in the winter cold without a glance.
But meddling in death would expose his trail immediately.
They distinguished touched deaths from untouched ones. They tracked even those in remote mountains where no one ventured. And pursued relentlessly.
This was where Fox was needed.
Fox could find paths devoid of death, places utterly free of human traffic.
He had been trained oppositely.
He scented death and followed it. Thus, death always shadowed his path—often quite painful deaths.
He was trained to seek death; Fox, to seek its absence.
Their methods of navigation were polar opposites.
Even now, the scent of death wafted gently.
Death lurked in a cave. He didn't know why someone had met their end in such a remote mountain cavern... but he could picture the desperate struggle to cling to life.
A hunter? An herb gatherer? Gored by a wild boar? Bitten by a viper? Poisoned by toxic plants?
"Ugh..."
A faint groan reached him.
By the groan's weakness, the man wouldn't last the day. Nor would he die immediately. Even treatment offered no hope. Death was already blooming throughout his body.
Someone like that... couldn't he guide them to a peaceful end?
Four Thousand Four drew his dagger and plunged it into his own thigh.
Blood flowed as the blade sank in. Agony surged.
'Good.'
He suppressed the murderous urge.
He didn't know how many more such temptations would arise before reaching the Heavenly Annihilation Division, but he had to endure each time. Touching death revealed his tracks.
"You have barely six hours left. Don't cling to life in that time—recall only joyful memories."
He spoke the Evil Spirit Guidance.
He didn't enter the cave, but his voice would lodge firmly in the dying man's mind.
He hadn't killed directly, but he had still touched the death.
Yet at this level... no one would notice. No signs of foul play.
Four Thousand Four's assumption was wrong.
"This guy's weird."
"A dying man smiling... no signs of murder."
The martial artists examined the corpse.
The dying man had been stripped naked and laid out, his vital points and bones meticulously checked over time.
"Time of death: this morning."
"Then no one killed him. What's with that smile? Creepy."
"Means he found mental peace in his final moments."
"Possible?"
"Nah. Heh!"
The martial artists smirked knowingly around their eyes.
They had dragged a comatose man into the cave. Expected to die in a day or two. When they left him, he was unconscious, no smile on his face.
A delirious man achieving a mentally peaceful death?
That would mean he regained clarity and accepted death... but the ones they dumped weren't the type. They would remain unconscious till the end. They'd even sealed the fainting acupoint just in case.
Only one conclusion: someone had soothed the dying man's soul.
"He passed through here."
"Doubtful he actually touched it... report it?"
"We have to. We just report what we saw. Judgment's above us."
"Yeah. Better than nothing."
They left the corpse in the cave and began descending the mountain.
"Ugh... ugh..."
A faint groan emanated from the cave after they left.
A new dying man replacing the dead one.
Assuming the previous one had died, they dragged in another.
The freshly laid victim would die alone, forsaken. Without Four Thousand Four's aid.
Something was off. The world brimmed with death, but not like this—deaths lined up in sequence.
"Ugh... ugh..."
A dying man's groan sounded.
This time, they had confirmed the victim with their own eyes.
He seemed a young man from the lower village out logging. About ten paces away, a overturned yoke laden with firewood lay scattered.
The youth had slipped while felling trees; clear slide marks scarred the slope. Unluckily, he had struck his head on a rock during the fall.
Blood streamed from the young man's scalp.
Unconscious. Untreatable. Time to death: roughly two hours.
He had plunged too deep into death's embrace.
Four Thousand Four passed him indifferently.
The youth had about two hours left. But even that time would be lost to him. He groaned from his mouth, yet thought and felt nothing—no joy, no pain.
'They've caught on.'
Four Thousand Four frowned.
This death was crafted to confirm his presence.
Someone had bashed the youth's head to map his route.
No other explanation fit.
Irrecoverable, imminent deaths weren't easily found. But they could be manufactured—especially by martial artists, who made them effortlessly.
The youth was such a case.
One miscalculation on their part: Death Precept successors didn't kill every dying soul. One lost to hallucinations like the youth held no appeal. Unconsciousness equated to death already.
He abandoned the youth and continued.
Such deliberate deaths stirred no impulse in him. No need to touch them. He wasn't a bloodthirsty fiend who slaughtered indiscriminately to sate his cravings.
They didn't truly grasp the Death Precepts.
Four Thousand Four hadn't touched the youth even with a fingertip. He circled the fall site, even concealing his footprints.
Assuming someone—likely from the Heavenly Annihilation Division—was watching him, this death would sow confusion.
"Four Thousand Four has vanished."
"Impossible."
"He's definitely gone. No traces anywhere."
"What was that report about spotting him?"
"Likely a mistake. No direct evidence he touched that death either."
"Go check yourself."
"Pardon?"
"I'll trust your eyes, then hear it from you."
"Understood."
"Wait! Take Third along. You inspect the corpse; have Third scout the surroundings."
"Understood."
Cha Hu clasped his fists and replied.
After Four Thousand Four and Mian Sosal ravaged Little Penalty Fortress, its prestige had plummeted. Cha Hu's own position hung by a thread.
This stemmed from Bukmyeong's schemes... but he couldn't openly blame Bukmyeong. After all, they had lost a prisoner caught in their own backyard.
"Cha Hu."
Penalty Lord called as Cha Hu turned to leave.
"Yes!"
Cha Hu spun back and clasped his fists at once.
"Relax. Got it? Don't tense up. A man of your caliber can't afford nerves over this. Stiff neck's one thing, but tense shoulders are another. Loosen up. Go."
"Thank you."
Cha Hu clasped his fists again immediately.
This absolute loyalty to Penalty Lord... was behavior unseen before losing Four Thousand Four.