Seo Bul's Conspiracy (4)
A lone beam of moonlight filtered through the dark forest, where resounding commands echoed loudly.
"One! Two! Three!"
The one barking the orders was none other than Jin Mun.
In front of him, Jin Hyeop and Wang Yi Sam repeated the exact same motions in sync with the commands.
Thick beads of sweat dripped from their foreheads. They'd lost count long ago of how many times they'd gone through the motions.
At first, Jin Mun had told Wang Yi Sam to use his broad dao.
But then he remembered the crescent halberd Song Hyeon had given Wang Yi Sam at the Vajra Vault, and ordered him to use that instead.
Jin Mun spoke in a stern voice.
"Your hand's drooping downward."
"Mine's heavier, I tell ya! Can't I just use my broad dao?"
"No. Use the crescent halberd."
Wang Yi Sam protested that his crescent halberd was heavier than Jin Hyeop's demon-subduing dao.
But Jin Mun had no intention of yielding to his pleas.
The reason Jin Mun insisted on the crescent halberd wasn't the weight—it was the length.
The crescent halberd from the Vajra Vault was a cavalry weapon made by joining a broad dao blade to a long shaft, making it long enough to be considered more staff than sword.
That's when the idea had struck Jin Mun.
'The Shaolin Staff Technique would be perfect for wielding that crescent halberd.'
There were countless polearm martial arts in the Central Plains martial world.
But training in the Shaolin Staff Technique laid the foundation for handling any polearm.
The motion Wang Yi Sam was repeating now was the most basic of the basics in the Shaolin Staff Technique.
"One!"
Twist the wrist to rotate the staff inward.
"Two!"
Twist the wrist in the opposite direction to rotate it outward.
"Three!"
Step forward into a forward stance, twist the waist, and thrust straight ahead.
Whoosh.
As Wang Yi Sam thrust with the crescent halberd, it sliced through the air with a sharp whistle.
It was a bit lacking for a first-rate expert, but it showed his lifelong honed external martial arts were solidly built.
'He's improved a lot.'
The gap between Jin Hyeop and Wang Yi Sam was no longer that wide.
'I thought he was just a wild brawler with no foundation, but surprisingly, his basics are sturdy.'
Disciples of so-called prestigious orthodox sects often prioritized flashy techniques over fundamentals.
But all martial arts only unleashed their true power on a solid foundation.
At least in terms of the basic Shaolin Staff Technique motions, the difference between Jin Hyeop and Wang Yi Sam was no longer significant.
'He'll hold his own against at least one enemy.'
Oblivious to Jin Mun's thoughts, Wang Yi Sam kept repeating the motions, sweat pouring down in thick drops.
When Wang Yi Sam had heard he'd be kicked out of the stealth squad if he lost to Jin Hyeop, he'd expected a desperate, all-out duel.
But the contest Jin Mun proposed was absurd.
Repeat the same motion until one collapsed from exhaustion—the first to drop loses.
Wasn't it just a stamina battle?
At first, Wang Yi Sam had scoffed inwardly.
'Hah, think you can wear down this body with your young age? Dream on!'
But after more than an hour, the cocky mercenary was filled with regret.
"How long are we gonna keep this up?"
"I told you. Until one of you collapses."
As Wang Yi Sam opened his mouth to concede defeat, Jin Mun taunted him.
"Junior Seo Baek would be pretty disappointed if he saw you now."
"What're you talkin' about?"
"Seo Baek said your martial skill might be low, but your grit is something no one can ignore. Guess I misheard."
"You didn't mishear! Fine, I'll show you what real grit looks like!"
Fuming, Wang Yi Sam redoubled his efforts.
Of course, the bit about Seo Baek was something Jin Mun had made up.
'Amitabha. I've been breaking precepts too often lately—must be a lack of discipline.'
Jin Mun cleared his stray thoughts and called out the commands again.
The Western merchant caravan numbered just over twenty.
High noses, deep-set eyes, pointed hats—they were unmistakably Hu people from the West at a glance.
Only four rode horses as guards; the rest appeared to be laborers.
There were four carts in total. One was normal-sized, but the other three carried massive crates as big as small houses.
Seo Baek and Mu Hye were intensely curious about what those crates contained.
"Think there's blood water inside?"
"We won't know without checking."
The guards whipped the camels pulling the carts, urging them onward.
Night had deepened, but camping in the wasteland felt like a waste of time. Chang'an was just a little farther.
Suddenly, a cloud of dust swirled up, and two shadows appeared out of nowhere, blocking the caravan's path.
How they'd approached across the empty wasteland was impossible to tell.
The apparent leader of the guards rode forward and shouted,
"■■■■■!"
"■■■■■."
Mu Hye replied. Seo Baek had never heard the language before.
After a brief exchange, Seo Baek asked,
"You speak the Western tongue?"
"Not fluently—just basic conversation."
"What'd he say?"
"Move aside."
"And if we don't...?"
"He'll kill us."
Shing. The Western guards drew the sabers from their waists.
Barbarian curved blades, bent like crescent moons.
The favored swords of Western nomads.
Hyaah!
The four guards charged on horseback toward Seo Baek and Mu Hye.
"Westerners are so hot-tempered."
"Amitabha."
Whoosh. Seo Baek and Mu Hye leaped apart to either side.
In that instant, a horse barreled straight at Seo Baek.
Incredible speed, like watching a peak lightweight skill expert dash across the ground!
Scree. The guard swung his curved blade at Seo Baek.
A nomad tactic: leverage the horse's momentum to decapitate and ride past in one go.
Seo Baek dodged the blade and leaped into the air.
He then used the horse's head as a stepping stone, lunging at the rider while swinging the reversed hilt of his sword.
But the guard was no pushover.
He spun his arm, blocking the hilt with his curved blade.
Clang. The impact made Seo Baek's fingers tingle.
"......!"
Seo Baek's eyebrow twitched. The Western guard's raw power was more formidable than expected.
Their martial arts weren't refined internal or external techniques.
It was the brute strength from their muscular builds and near-seven-foot frames, unique to Western Hu people.
Born with natural strong bones, without needing to learn martial arts like Central Plains folk. The guard's body coursed with the blood of ancestors who'd swung blades in harsh deserts.
'Not to be underestimated.'
Seo Baek immediately activated the Shika Heart Method, swinging his hilt to send the guard's curved blade flying skyward.
He followed with a strike to the guard's temple acupoint.
Crack. The guard's skull shattered; he didn't even scream as he tumbled from the horse.
Ignoring its fallen rider, the horse charged ahead. Seo Baek kicked its rear and leaped higher.
The guard charging from behind saw his comrade fall, eyes bulging as he swung his blade.
"■■■!"
But Seo Baek's sword was twice as long as the curved blade.
And no matter how threatening a horse's charge, it meant little to a martial artist with peak movement techniques...
Slash. Seo Baek swung, severing the guard's head.
The fight ended in seconds.
Yet the Western guards' power wasn't to be taken lightly.
Had they not charged recklessly and fought more cautiously, it might have been trickier.
By now, Mu Hye had slain one guard and subdued the leader.
Seo Baek examined the severed head on the ground.
No blood thread worm in the neck stump. Just a living human, not a revenant.
Which meant none of the others were revenants either.
From the West to Chang'an was a long journey. If there'd been a revenant, it would've turned the others by now.
With the two strangers dispatching the guards in the wasteland, the laborers froze without resisting.
Mu Hye pressed his demon-subduing dao to the leader's throat, forcing him to his knees, then asked,
"■■■■■?"
"■■■■■!"
"What'd he say?"
"He's refusing to answer. Western warriors value honor—they won't talk easily."
"Then I'll check the crates."
Seo Baek approached a cart to investigate the crates.
But oddly, the normal-sized cart drew his eye more than the three with crates.
He realized why the moment he saw it.
It carried a coffin!
Were they traversing the distant Silk Road just to transport a coffin? Whose corpse was inside?
'Could it be a revenant?'
Seo Baek climbed onto the cart, thrust his sword tip into the coffin lid, and pried.
The deeply embedded nails popped out in one go.
With full readiness, Seo Baek flung open the lid.
"......?"
He frowned. Inside lay a single corpse—no revenant.
But it could still turn.
Seo Baek fetched the severed head and dripped blood onto the corpse. No reaction.
Herbs and a water pouch beside it kept the temperature low to prevent decay. No need if it were a revenant.
Then the leader raised his arms like cheering and shouted,
"■■■ ■■■ ■■■■!"
After exchanging words with him, Mu Hye said,
"That corpse is their nation's great warrior and hero."
"Then why not bury him there and ship him to Chang'an?"
"They promised to resurrect him in Chang'an as an immortal, undying body."
"......!"
Revenants were reanimated corpses, but he'd never heard of long-dead bodies becoming revenants.
Something was definitely happening in Seo Bul's city.
The leader unbuckled his sword sheath and placed it on the ground.
"■■■■■!"
Even without knowing the language, Seo Baek could tell it was a gesture of surrender.
"Return the hero's corpse, and he'll surrender and leave."
"What about the crates on the other carts?"
"They were demanded in Chang'an, so they say they don't need them anymore."
Their interest was always the crates heading to Chang'an. No reason to refuse.
Seo Baek and Mu Hye handed over the coffin cart. They unhitched the camels from the others and told the caravan to leave.
The leader led the laborers away, turning back the way they'd come.
An odd end to what had started as a life-or-death fight.
A thought suddenly struck Seo Baek.
"If those crates held blood water, it all makes sense. Trade blood water for Chang'an's promise to turn the corpse into an immortal revenant?"
"A sound theory."
Mu Hye nodded in agreement.
"Let's check the crates."
Seo Baek wedged his sword into a crate's seam and pried the lid off like a lever.
Crack.
Instantly, the contents gleamed red under the moonlight, like fresh blood.
But contrary to expectations, it wasn't blood water—it was red-tinted rock.
"This is cinnabar."
Seo Baek recognized it.
"The rumors that Seo Bul is alive... they're true."