Nine Deaths, One Life (4)
Seo Baek slashed at the revenants like a madman, again and again.
But the revenants surged forward relentlessly, too many to count.
Mindlessly hacking away wouldn't get him out of this crisis. For every one he cut down, ten more rushed in. As time dragged on, he'd only end up buried in the horde.
I've got to climb the cliff wall.
Using the recoil from his sword swings, Seo Baek leaped upward. He dashed across the revenants' heads like stepping stones.
Thud thud thud.
There.
When he reached the edge of the encirclement, Seo Baek hurled himself toward the sheer cliff face.
Squelch. He succeeded in stabbing his sword into the rock and hanging on.
With his free hand, Seo Baek gripped a crevice in the cliff to brace his body, then tried to yank the sword free and jam it higher up.
It would be grueling, but inching upward bit by bit, he'd eventually reach the ridge. Then he could shake off the horde.
But Seo Baek's hopes were spectacularly upended.
The revenant horde chased after him, piling up against the cliff in layers.
Revenants trampled those below and clambered higher.
The crushed ones at the base became a pedestal, inching the horde's height ever closer to Seo Baek.
Mindless blood ghosts without souls couldn't have devised tactics.
Chasing the scent of blood on pure instinct, they had coincidentally built a rampart against the cliff.
A veritable tower of corpses!
Suddenly, a skeletal hand with bones starkly exposed shot out and seized Seo Baek's ankle.
Chomp.
Seo Baek yanked his foot up, then stomped down viciously. Crack. The skeletal hand snapped off, releasing his ankle.
But now, climbing the cliff was impossible.
To ascend, he'd need to pull the sword and stab higher—but the corpse tower was rising faster.
A dozen hands reached out, snatching both ankles.
Seo Baek's ankles were wrapped in thick leather leggings, shielding them from the revenants' raking nails.
A scratch could mean blood thread worm infection at any moment.
Seo Baek spun his feet in a whirlwind, flinging the hands away. Whoosh. But in the next instant, another dozen hands grabbed hold again.
Damn it.
Now it wasn't a dozen, but dozens upon dozens of hands thrusting out.
Seo Baek wrenched his sword from the cliff and slashed, severing the wrists in a single stroke.
Splatter. Screech.
Even with hands severed, the revenants pressed on. One leaped up, stepping on another's head, jaws snapping toward Seo Baek's ankle.
Snap! Seo Baek twisted his foot aside; the revenant's teeth gnashed empty air.
How dare you.
Seo Baek swung, decapitating the revenant.
But he couldn't cling to the cliff any longer.
He was barely supporting his weight with just his index and middle fingers jammed in a crevice.
And now the corpse tower had risen to right beneath him.
No matter Seo Baek's prowess, he couldn't scale a sheer cliff one-handed while swinging a greatsword...
Find another way.
Seo Baek kicked off the cliff with both feet, leaping as far from the horde as possible.
Beneath his arcing descent, revenants swarmed without fail. Hundreds—no, thousands—packed so densely no patch of ground was visible.
Seo Baek plunged his sword vertically into an oncoming revenant mid-fall.
The blade cleaved the revenant's waist clean in two.
Crunch. Splatter.
Guts spilled from the severed lower torso.
Yet the revenant didn't die, didn't even blink. Already dead once, it felt no pain.
Gurgle!
The upper body, trailing entrails, crawled forward on its hands.
Most folk fled in terror at the sight of revenants. Only a rare few murim warriors faced them fearless.
But even those few would tremble before them.
Like Seo Baek now.
Tough as leeches.
Seo Baek swung his sword in a frenzy, propelling himself toward a thinner cluster of revenants.
How much time had passed?
Seo Baek had taken shelter in a Guandi Temple carved into the gorge cliff.
Shrines to Guan Yu of Shu from Romance of the Three Kingdoms dotted the Central Plains everywhere.
In these chaotic times, folk prayed to the Martial God Guan Yu for blessings and to banish ill fortune.
This temple was hollowed into the cliff like a cave and built sturdy. Such was the Central Plains devotion to Guan Yu—they couldn't abide barren cliffs without one.
Huff, huff...
Seo Baek caught his breath with deep inhalations during this brief respite from the horde.
He'd kept the Shika Heart Method active amid the fight. To carve through the black tide of revenants, he had no choice.
The issue: he had no sense of how long he'd been using it.
Trained at Shika Manor to gauge time's flow. After brutal drills, he could sense quarter-hours precisely.
But now? Nothing. Too frantic with sword and flight.
One certainty: well over half a shichen.
Beyond half a shichen, the Shika Heart Method risked qi deviation.
So he'd paused it. But he might need to resume soon. The horde wasn't fully shaken.
Without it, even breathing steadily was a chore.
Normally, a few deep breaths after greatsword swings restored him. Wang Yi Sam would've scoffed at this gasping.
His sword was crusted with revenant blood and flesh.
Especially, the phosphor from sundered bones made the blade gleam.
Outside the temple: severed necks, arms, legs; guts from torsos—enough to paint the ground blood-red.
And the blood-armored boy wielding that gleaming greatsword.
A stranger would've mistaken him for a demon from hell.
As his breathing steadied, clarity returned.
Not the time to slack.
From his pouch, a waterskin. He poured it over his bleeding flank.
Gurgle, gurgle...
Water—lifeline for traversing wilds—spilled onto the ground.
No regrets. Erasing blood scent was priority. He could refill if he survived.
The large skin emptied. His flank soaked crimson.
Good enough?
Even ever-calculating Seo Baek struggled to predict now.
To fully purge the scent: clean the wound, apply salve, wash or change clothes.
But he'd only rinsed the flowing blood; his garb still reeked.
Resuming movement would reopen it, blood flowing anew. Total erasure impossible.
Just a stopgap.
Still, diluted scent should keep the horde from sniffing him out easily.
Regather qi in the meantime. Prepare to reactivate Shika Heart Method.
Then locate the ridge path, climb above—the only plan left.
Seo Baek sat cross-legged to meditate.
Then, an odd vibe from the altar housing Guan Yu's tablet.
Rest, kid. Fight nonstop, you'll turn into an idiot—don't you know that?
Wang Yi Sam-style quip. Revenants had worn him ragged.
Seo Baek leaped back from the altar and whirled around.
Even the impassive Seo Baek's brow furrowed faintly.
A young man perched on the beam under the eaves, peering down.
Not lunging at the blood scent: no revenant.
"Who are you?"
He felt foolish the instant the words left his mouth.
Scrutinizing gaze, chin tilted high.
Arms crossed in haughty poise.
Sword at his waist.
Murim warrior. Thick with killing intent.
Look closer: one of the three refugees who'd been with Jin-mun on the ridge.
They'd crossed the rope to the cliff housing the Underground Hall. Why appear here, in the heart of a revenant den?
Obvious reason.
He's tracked me.
In Central Plains murim, one who pursued to the gates of death had one identity.
Assassin.
The man lifted his chin. A thick bass voice transmitted mentally.
[Survived that cliff plunge? Impressive for a Shaolin-bound brat.]
He'd used transmission fearing lurking revenants somewhere.
Anyway, Seo Baek was certain.
This man was an assassin sent to block his Shaolin journey.
[Figured I'd just lop off your head. Lucky you're alive—severing a corpse's neck is no fun.]
Seo Baek cocked his head at that.
Specifically take the head?
Proof of killing a Shaolin-goer? Or some other scheme?
Still unclear what the man was after.
From Sichuan to Song Mountain, a long trek: Seo Baek had beheaded countless villains, incinerated revenants.
Among them, no small number from famed orthodox sects.
Jegal Clan, Iron Palm Gang, Five Families Alliance: Shandong Yue Family, North Paeng Family, Pearl Eon Family, Moyong Family, Namgung Family. Five houses. Plenty.
Any who'd clocked him could've dispatched an assassin. No surprise.
[Sliced up a ton of revenants, huh. Fun killing soulless trash?]
Jeering transmission, but his face was bored—pure disdain ingrained.
Which sect?
Seo Baek eyed his features, guessing affiliation.
Nothing specific.
Wish Song Hyun senior were here.
With his vast murim lore, he'd deduce it easily.
The man dropped from the beam to the floor.
Swish.
His form floated down like a falling leaf. Proof his lightness skill matched or exceeded Seo Baek's.
[Unleash every martial art you've ever learned, brat. Make my long chase worthwhile.]
Arrogant tone, like testing a scrub.
A thought flashed through Seo Baek's mind.
Central Plains sect most arrogant, none dared claim second.
Viper-persistent: grudge meant ten years' hunt till success.
Techniques, schemes vicious and cruel—even masters shunned them.
Murim folk grimaced at the name alone...
Seo Baek knew the sect.
[Sacheon Tang Clan?]
[Brat's got sharp eyes.]
The man was Dang Ryong, Sacheon Tang Clan assassin. On the clan head's orders, he'd tracked Seo Baek's trail from Sichuan all the way to Song Mountain.