The Spirit Beast Trial
-Fwaaat!
Hot blood split the air.
"Just a little more—hold on a little longer, Miss Sa Ha-yun!"
Encouragement poured in from every side.
Bolstered by those shouts, Sa Ha-yun of the Jeomchang Sect sent her blue martial robes streaming as she danced clear of the charging spirit beast—a creature the size of a house—by the barest fraction of a step, using the light, clipped footwork unique to her sect.
-Kwaang!
The boar, three times larger than any ordinary grown man, slammed into a pine tree instead of her and snapped it halfway through in a single blow.
Standing ready in front of them, prepared for the worst, was a Command Escort dispatched directly from Cheonsubaekryeonsa. He was directing the field in Lee Jasuo's place.
-Grrrk!
The spirit beast's eyes were bloodshot, foam flecking its jaws.
Beside me, Dang Sa-mun of the Sichuan Tang Clan chewed his nails and muttered,
"This regular trial really isn't a joke."
"Not a joke?"
At my question, the short man in green martial robes nodded.
"I'd heard they were jacking up the difficulty lately—assigning the disposal of spirit beasts that harm civilians to the regular trials, to better match the righteous path's identity. I just didn't think it was true."
"…Is that so."
I spoke slowly, eyes on the scene in front of me.
"So that means…"
In the clearing ahead, Sa Ha-yun was locked in a desperate struggle with the spirit beast.
Around them, the others had already sorted themselves into those who had passed the trial and those who had failed.
One disciple's arm was broken.
Another had his head wrapped in bandages.
"That thing."
I worked my mouth.
"Is a spirit beast…?"
Dang Sa-mun looked at me.
"Of course it's a spirit beast. Can't you feel that vicious aura? The force that snapped a pine tree halfway in one hit—I've heard four ordinary able-bodied men have already died to that thing. Of course, it doesn't look like the mother. More like a mid-sized juvenile."
"…"
I said nothing.
I said nothing more at all.
Having finished every last disciplinary trial and now mixed in among the other disciples of Cheonsubaekryeonsa for my first proper regular trial, I slowly rewound everything from the beginning and thought it through again.
-Clatter-clatter…
The carriage carrying the six examinees for this regular trial—myself included—had left Cheonsubaekryeonsa far behind and was rattling onward.
Inside were four men and two women.
They fell into chatter almost at once and the carriage quickly grew noisy.
In the middle of all that, I alone sat in the corner with my arms folded, mouth shut tight, not saying a single word.
Host?
I didn't answer Mumyeong's question either.
My head was packed full of thoughts.
Among them, what Mumyeong had said about the Guardians digging in with their backs to the wall over the jade—a civil war of flesh and blood—took up its share of space.
But coldly speaking, that was not my most immediate worry.
Strictly speaking, of course, I also possessed the Heavenly Demon Jade. If any other Guardian learned of that fact, I too would be swept instantly into a bottomless whirlpool of blood no one could trust and nothing in this world could compare to.
Put another way, though—if no one knew I held the jade, their quiet little war would remain entirely their own, something I could watch from the far bank of the river like a fire on the opposite shore.
Mumyeong had added that unless someone was of the White Lotus Demon Sect—of the demonic or blood lineages—they would not be able to sense that I carried the Heavenly Demon Jade, so I could rest easy.
So long as I did not carelessly announce that I possessed it, that war was no longer something I needed to factor in.
The matter swelling my skull to bursting, the crisis right under my nose, was only one thing.
Not long ago, the Guardian of the Sichuan Tang Clan—who had traded fists with me—had been found with his head torn off.
That head had been set atop a shipment of Cheonsubaekryeonsa supplies.
The culprit was a master of a first-rank art by Cheonma Dae-seogo standards, a grandmaster of the Heavenly Demon Cult's Heaven and Earth Great Shift, Yeomrangwang of the Surayeomrang Squad—Jeokmaryeong.
That very Jeokmaryeong had left a letter addressed to me.
The Beggars' Sect branch leader had clearly been watching my reaction the whole time, so I had closed the matter by playing the part of an ordinary martial artist who knew the Yama King's fearsome reputation and was simply afraid—feigning confusion as to why the man would leave me a letter at all.
"…"
The truth was nothing of the sort.
In my entire life, there had never once been a "spar."
He and I had clashed twice—twice—in fights to the death.
The first: the battle at Baekhakmubong.
In the pouring rain, among the corpses of a caravan smuggling gunpowder, I had resisted with everything I had, even a powder dagger, and still been crushed without a chance.
The second: the battle at Emei.
With the Blood Cult in front hunting the jade and the Demon Cult pressing from behind, in a situation of utter despair, I had fought with Zhongnan, Emei, and So Yeomgyo as if life were death and death were life, pouring out everything I had until Emei's Guardian could finish her blossoming rite.
There I had forced my incomplete Heaven and Earth Great Shift all the way to the fourth star and, for a fleeting moment, managed to halt Jeokmaryeong—who had been permitted only up to the third star by his cult leader's seal.
In the end I lost, and was driven to the brink of death.
Afterward, though, the overall tide turned against him and he withdrew. Before he left, he performed the act demon practitioners reserved for the enemy of their master—calling a name three times—and publicly declared me his nemesis as he retreated.
And now that man had returned from the far side of nightmare.
-Squeeze.
Without thinking, I clenched a fist slick with sweat.
Host.
"Yeah. I'm listening."
Arms still folded, back against the carriage wall, I answered without so much as a twitch.
Are you afraid?
I let out a short laugh.
Since leaving Baekhakmubong for that first punitive trial, countless things had happened.
In years it had not been long, but I had lived through more than most people saw in a decade of walking the jianghu—none of it by choice.
My face had changed. My build had changed. So much of me had changed.
My values had changed.
My temperament had changed.
And they would keep changing.
I sank deeper into the carriage seat.
"The strange thing is, I am afraid. Obviously. And yet…"
I swallowed down the feeling rising in my chest and whispered,
"I'm also a little excited."
…
I opened a palm webbed with calluses.
In a hoarse voice I murmured,
"I must be losing my mind."
Mumyeong answered briefly.
That is how one becomes a battle maniac.
A long moment later he added, quietly,
…I was the same. And no one hated fighting more than I did.
"…"
On the other side of the carriage, Sa Ha-yun of the Jeomchang Sect kept blinking her long lashes and staring straight through me.
-Lurch.
The carriage only stopped once it reached a lonely mountainside.
"You're late. We start the exam immediately, so I would appreciate everyone moving quickly. These things are nocturnal—if we are going to put six of you through, even starting now will be cutting it close."
A Command Escort in white robes stamped with Cheonsubaekryeonsa's seal—first impression extremely exacting—looked up at us from below the carriage.
"This will not be any of your first or second regular trials, so I will spare you the detailed briefing. We leave at once."
He explained that he was handling field safety in the examiner's place, prepared for any worst-case scenario that might arise during a regular trial.
Torch in hand, the Command Escort led the mountain path, a massive ring-pommel greatsaber slung across his back.
The six examinees filed up the trail behind him.
Bringing up the rear, I studied the people I would be taking this exam with.
Plenty of familiar faces.
Most of the examinees for this regular trial were people I remembered mocking me alongside Ho Seo-a when we exchanged greetings at the training grounds.
I could feel that several of them, for reasons I could not name, disliked me at least as much as Ho Seo-a did.
Doesn't matter either way.
From the time spent building camaraderie in the private training rooms, I had learned that Ho Seo-a carried a fair amount of weight in Ha-mu-gwan.
I only planned to stay another sixty days or so—but for whatever time remained after returning to Ha-mu-gwan, I intended to use him as a shield, keep myself out of sight, and live as quietly as possible.
Staying unnoticed was what mattered.
Especially since, whatever the reason, the timing could not have been worse.
Jeokmaryeong had torn off the Sichuan Tang Clan Guardian's head and left a letter that pointed at me.
Because of that, the Beggars' Sect branch leader had started watching me closely.
A Beggars' Sect branch leader taking interest meant the leadership of the righteous path—the Murim Alliance—was taking interest. And anything they noticed and confirmed was as good as known to the entire jianghu.
If I slipped here and let it out that I possessed the jade, it would be no different from declaring myself a combatant in the war of Guardians.
After that, the destination was fixed.
Either I died.
Or I reached the Realm of Samsara.
And even if I wanted one, there would be no comfortable middle ground.
At the very front of the line behind the Command Escort walked a man in the Jeomchang Sect's blue silk martial robes, sharp-eyed, with curly hair—Gang Mu-jeong.
Next came the big frame of Han Jung-mae in the brown robes of the Kunlun Sect, and after him the short man in green—Dang Sa-mun of the Sichuan Tang Clan. I remembered their self-introductions in the carriage.
There was also Eul Mi-ye of the Mount Hua Sect, hair tied up, freckled, with a bright smile.
And last—
Sa Ha-yun? That was it.
It was an uphill path.
Watching the blue robe hems sway in front of my eyes, I took stock.
The odd thing about this party's makeup was that there was one more from the Jeomchang Sect.
Tall and slender, with upswept catlike eyes.
Gang Mu-jeong, stuck at the very front, kept twisting around to throw conversation back toward Sa Ha-yun near the rear, desperate to get even one more word in.
"Stop talking to me before a trial. Men who aren't even strong and won't shut up are irritating."
I couldn't see her face from the back, but I watched Sa Ha-yun's razor-edged words cut Gang Mu-jeong's chatter off clean.
"Kh."
The humiliation on Gang Mu-jeong's face was plain even from where I stood at the very end of the line.
Same sect, and they don't get along?
I tilted my head at the strangeness of it.
Han Jung-mae, second in line, turned his thick neck toward Sa Ha-yun.
"Haha, Miss Sa seems a little on edge. Quite the sharp tongue."
"Drop it, Han Jung-mae."
Gang Mu-jeong said,
"What else is she supposed to do? Once she blazes through this regular trial with her eyes rolled back, what's left? She still can't forget that almost-husband she nearly met last time, so of course she's sharp. Who knows—maybe the second I pass into Chu-mu-gwan in style, she'll throw herself at me."
Even I—officially certified as a eunuch by So Yeomgyo herself—could tell that was Gang Mu-jeong nursing a grudge and lashing out.
Sa Ha-yun's hair, the only part of her I could see, whipped violently.
"No—I may like strong men, but I have eyes, I'm not insane—!"
Sa Ha-yun let out a long breath.
"Forget it."
I pictured the face I had glimpsed in the carriage.
Long loose hair swept to bare one ear and veil the other, a haughty cast to her features—I wondered, briefly, what expression she was wearing now.
Honestly, that woman expert—skill aside—her hands in particular. They look vicious. The kind that would slap with a craftsman's dedication.
Mumyeong's voice came through; he must have felt the strength of the image in my mind.
Plenty of the women experts in the Heavenly Demon Cult had that air. Beauties, every one of them. Hard to get close to at first—but once you did, they were better company than most men.
"…I didn't ask."
-Whip!
Sa Ha-yun spun around.
"What?!"
My eyes locked with Sa Ha-yun's, nose to nose.
On the uphill path, her gaze met mine—burning, boring straight through me.
A beat later, I understood what had happened.
"…Damn it."
It was a risk I had always kept parked in a corner of my mind, even while talking endlessly with Mumyeong.
And yet, worn down by everyday habit, I had eventually started thinking, ah, it'll be fine—and fallen into the custom of muttering to myself.
That risk had stacked and stacked, and now it had detonated.
Sparks flying in her eyes, Sa Ha-yun said,
"Hey. You. What did you just say."