Avici Hell Battle (1)
—Hooo! Hooo!
The horses racing across the wasteland began to foam at the mouth. They had been running without rest, and even as time wore on, the column never slowed. Clouds gathered thick across the sky.
—Thud-thud-thud…!
Nearly a hundred pounding hooves hammered the parched earth as the host thundered onward. At the heart of the formation rode three pairs of double-headed carriages, festooned with countless white bones and flying the banners of their sect.
“Mmph… mmph-mmph!”
Inside those carriages, common folk abducted from every province lay stacked like cargo, gags forced between their teeth. The Blood Sect force that had seized the Wiji Clan’s eldest son was cutting straight across the wasteland that marked the border between the North Sea Ice Palace and the Central Plains, plunging into the domain of Taejacheon, Second Hall Master of the Blood Sect.
The closer they drew, the more the drifting white snow turned into a billowing red mist of blood. Scattered across the wasteland lay nothing but half-rotted corpses reduced to bleached bones. Far off on the horizon a vast bank of storm clouds began to roll in. A harsh wind rose, twisting into dry sandstorms that scoured every face with clouds of arid dust. Sand clung thick to the lashes of the Blood Sect riders behind their beast masks.
“Home…”
The lead rider muttered under his breath. At the far edge of the wasteland, a single canyon appeared, choked in crimson fog that howled like a storm.
“Mother’s homeland is in sight!”
Standing in the stirrups, the man ripped off his pig-head mask and waved it like a madman. That was the signal.
The world drowned in frenzy.
Beast-masked Blood Sect warriors howled like animals.
“We’ve reached the destination!”
“Rain blood upon this world!”
“The Blood Sect shall become the center of all things and awaken the new Mother!!”
The towering cultist gripping the pole that bound Wi Ryong-ha, eldest son of the Wiji Clan, bellowed at the top of his lungs.
“Today’s abundant harvest shall be the first step by which Lord Taejacheon surpasses every Hall Master, becomes the true heir of Mother, and claims dominion over the Central Plains!”
“So it shall be!”
The cultists half-peeled back their animal masks and roared the chorus.
“Long live Lord Taejacheon!”
“Long live the Second Hall Master!”
Lashed to the pole, Wi Ryong-ha thrashed in pure terror.
“Mmph! Mmmph-mmph!”
His limbs were bound, his eyes covered, a gag stuffing his mouth. Spittle ran freely down the leather. The dry wind of the wasteland slapped his face raw. The blindfold twisted free and fell away. Wi Ryong-ha’s eyes flew open against the swirling dust.
“Mmph…!”
The first thing he saw was the endless, unbroken expanse of wasteland. High above, the sky was choked with murky dust, and growling thunderclouds stared back at him.
“Mmmph!!”
From the dizzying height of the pole he realized he was racing at breakneck speed. He thrashed as though he would faint. The pole swayed wildly.
“Why is this pig thrashing so much?!”
The massive cultist in the monkey mask who held the pole snarled in irritation.
—Thud-thud-thud…!
A single crimson horse shot past the entire vanguard and took the lead. Long grey-white hair streaming behind him rode Taejacheon, Second Hall Master of the Blood Sect.
“We’re almost there! This expedition has been especially rich in offerings, so the flies will swarm in droves trying to save them! Without delay we enter the canyon ahead—the formation that will protect us!”
“Into Mother’s embrace!”
Taejacheon flung both arms skyward and cried out.
“Once we pass inside, not even a god will be able to lay a hand on us!”
“For Lord Taejacheon!”
Every Blood Sect warrior howled and spurred forward, desperate to be first. There was no order. No discipline. They surged like a swarm of gnats toward the single white chunk of meat dangling before their eyes.
—Whoooosh!
As the dust parted, far ahead at the canyon’s heart a colossal form began to reveal itself, wreathed in red mist.
“Mmph-mmph-mmph!”
Wi Ryong-ha struggled with frantic strength. He shook the pole with both bound hands as though possessed. The moment they entered that place, he knew with bone-deep certainty, he would be finished forever. The silk cords bit into his wrists until blood ran. He twisted every muscle, thrashing ankles and hips. The pole lurched left and right under the shifting weight. The giant in the monkey mask and his horse staggered.
One of the riders shouted.
“Lord Taejacheon!”
Taejacheon glanced back.
“In the sky!”
He looked up. White signal flares streaked one after another through the murky twilight. Taejacheon’s eyes flew wide.
“Those are… position-marking signal rockets…?! Then—!”
He never finished the sentence.
“Lord Taejacheon, to the right!”
—Kwa-doo-doo…!
Through a cloud of red dust a troop of mounted warriors crested the ridge.
“There they are!”
“Seize them! If they reach Blood Sect territory it’s over!”
They whipped their horses into a frenzy and closed the gap. Taejacheon shouted.
“Wiji Clan martial artists?!”
“No, my lord!”
The foremost Blood Sect rider screamed until his throat tore.
“They carry the banner of the North Sea Ice Palace—Black Dragon Branch!”
“The North Sea Ice Palace—what—!”
A massive vibration rolled through the earth. It was nothing like the thunder of a few hundred hooves; it carried the weight of something far greater.
“This tremor…?”
Taejacheon spun around.
—Boom… boom-boom-boom-boom!
Storm clouds were flooding the sky. On one side of the endless red wasteland the Blood Sect domain advanced like a living thing, exhaling crimson fog against the bloody sunset. On the other, a colossal bank of black clouds ready to pour rain was racing in. And far out on the horizon—
Heaven and earth were shattering.
Taejacheon narrowed his eyes. The distance was immense, yet even so he could see the searing black lightning with perfect clarity.
—Kwa-rrrrung! Kwa-rung!
—Kwa-gwa-gwa-gwa!!!
Gigantic black thunderbolts hammered the earth without cease. At their center a man was sprinting toward them with a white-haired woman on his back.
Taejacheon’s eyes bulged as he roared.
“That woman is clearly the Young Palace Master of the North Sea Ice Palace?! No—more than that.”
He shouted as though he could not believe what he was seeing.
“A human is chasing down a Death-Fall Horse—the purebreds we raise in the Blood Sect’s Horse-Demon Valley—on two bare legs?!”
—Kwa-gwa-gwa-gwa!
The man racing beneath the oncoming storm clouds was a natural disaster given flesh. Behind him a tidal wave of shattered earth erupted skyward. Before his left foot fully left the ground his right was already driving forward; a beat after the right foot lifted, the earth where it had struck exploded upward like a firework, flinging debris in every direction.
Seol Ye-rin, Young Palace Master of the North Sea Ice Palace, clung to his back and shouted, her voice somehow cutting through the tearing ground.
“I can see them! Moyong Bi! Those are our people! The Black Dragon Branch that was stationed at the border with the Blood Sect saw the signal and came to help!”
The man beneath her bellowed back.
“Don’t stop! Keep firing those signal rockets! Call in every last unit you have nearby!!”
Seol Ye-rin yanked out more flares and aimed them skyward. She loosed them in rapid succession. White rockets punched into the heavens, adjusting for the Blood Sect column’s changing course.
—Piyuuuung.
—Puh-eong!
The sky flared bright as day as successive flashes bloomed. Taejacheon’s eyes glittered.
“That bastard.”
He muttered as though chewing the words.
“So he’s the mad butcher Dokgo Cheon was raving about?”
“Lord Taejacheon! Another small force approaching from the left!”
“What?!”
Taejacheon whipped his head left. Over a red hill, through a haze of dust, yet another mounted force came galloping. A Blood Sect rider cried out.
“They fly the banner of the Wiji Clan!”
“Give us back our young master!”
Wiji Clan warriors charged with furious roars. Taejacheon bit his lip.
“Fine. So that’s how you want to play it!”
He raised his voice.
“Split into three columns! Left and right wings hold them off—center force takes the Wiji heir and drives straight through! Every warrior of the Blood Sect—do not spare your lives!”
The cultists answered as one.
“We offer this blood upon the altar!”
Taejacheon drew a dagger from his robes and sliced open his own palm. Blood droplets scattered on the red wasteland wind.
“We fear nothing! For Mother!”
The eyes of every Blood Sect warrior watching those drops turned wild and white with madness.
On the right the North Sea Ice Palace Black Dragon Branch closed in, shouting.
“Securing the Wiji Clan’s eldest son is the absolute priority! All units, draw swords!”
“Draw swords!”
Every Black Dragon warrior unsheathed steel. Opposing them, the right-flank escort of Blood Sect riders cracked their whips and howled.
“Kill whoever bars our path and drink their blood!”
—Shhhrrring!
They brandished their cavalry weapons. A Black Dragon rider pointed toward the center of the Blood Sect column.
“The target—the Wiji heir—is there!”
In the middle of the racing host, Wi Ryong-ha thrashed against the pole that bound him. The Black Dragon captain’s eyes lit up.
“Ah, there he—!”
“For Mother!”
A Blood Sect warrior slammed his mount straight into the captain. The foaming Death-Fall Horse sank its teeth into the neck of the Black Dragon horse. The Ice Palace riders reeled in horror.
“What the hell kind of horse—!”
“Captain!”
Horses tangled. Legs snapped. The massive bodies became a single thrashing mass. They could not overcome their own full-speed momentum and tumbled, rolling and rolling. A horse’s spine cracked against the hard wasteland; its forelegs burst apart. The Black Dragon captain and the cultist who had leapt upon him were crushed into pulp beneath the carcass.
Black Dragon warriors screamed.
“The captain’s down!”
“You insane Blood Sect bastards dare—!”
The cultists answered by vomiting blood and roaring.
“Praise him! Our brother has thrown his body first!”
“All of this is so that our true will may be exalted!”
One cultist drew a pair of saw-toothed blades and bellowed.
“Even if I die today, tomorrow I shall live forever!!”
“Kill them!”
Blood Sect and Black Dragon Branch collided. Horse lunged at horse with bared teeth. Man drove steel into man. Riders rose willingly from their saddles and hurled themselves onto enemy mounts.
“Gyaaah!”
“Uwaaagh!”
An Ice Palace warrior lost an arm and a leg and toppled from the saddle. The cultist who had charged him took a spear through the throat at full gallop and cartwheeled away.
“Uwahahaha!”
Cultists who slipped while trying to vault onto enemy horses were trampled by the mounts thundering behind them, still laughing as they died.
And still the Blood Sect numbers more than cancelled every death.
“Uuuuugh!”
A cultist, eyes bloodshot, swung a massive iron hammer. A Black Dragon warrior became a flying rag of meat. He had raised his sword to block; arm and blade snapped together. He hit the ground. The rider hard on his heels screamed.
“Watch out—dodge!”
“Uwaaaaagh!”
A hooves crashed down onto the fallen man’s skull.
—Crack, crunch-crunch!
—Kwa-doo-doo-doo-doo!
Iron-shod hooves turned him into a mangled rag and flung the remains skyward. The horses that followed stamped the fragments again and again. Behind the cavalry column only bloody shreds clung to the dirt like wet cloth.
“Faster! We’re overtaking them!”
On the opposite left flank the Wiji Clan warriors closed at a sharp angle, shouting.
“While the Black Dragon Branch holds them, we circle ahead and stop the entire Blood Sect advance cold! We have to save the young master!”
They arced wide and cut across the front of the Blood Sect column. The lead cultists twisted in their saddles and yelled.
“Lord Taejacheon! Wiji Clan warriors are blocking the road ahead—if we keep going we’ll collide!”
“No! Even if every Blood Sect warrior dies today—!”
Second Hall Master Taejacheon flung a hand forward and roared.
“Tomorrow we shall live eternal life in new flesh perfected by sorcery! Any warrior who offers even one enemy’s blood before Mother’s spirit tablet shall be reborn as an even purer fighting spirit!”
“Lord Taejacheon!”
“On the path to Truth these arrogant, degenerate Central Plains dogs dare stand in our way. This is the destiny Mother herself has given us who dream of the true Blood Sect—the revival of the White Lotus Demon Sect! Therefore…!”
Taejacheon clenched a fist.
“What must we do?!”
“…!”
The cultists froze. A brief silence fell. Red dust whipped past. Then, as one, they ripped off the animal-head masks made from living beasts and hurled them away.
“For her!”
“For the Truth!”
“For eternal life we cast away these weak souls like discarded straw!”
They surged forward like a great crimson tidal wave.
—Crunch.
Cultists crushed pills between their teeth and jammed them into the mouths of their foaming Death-Fall Horses.
—Prrrrrh!
The horses’ eyes rolled white. Every muscle swelled as though about to explode. Horseshoes tore free; blood welled up around the hooves. Still it was not enough. The riders struck flints.
—Fwoosh!
They set the horses’ tails ablaze. The beasts went berserk and charged. Nothing could stop the mad column now.
The Wiji Clan warriors trying to bar the road panicked.
“These bastards won’t slow down!”
“We’re going to—collide—!”
The cultists laughed.
“Uwa, uwahahaha!!!”
—Kwaaang!
—Kwang! Kwa-kwa-kwa!
Like slamming into an invisible wall, the Blood Sect charge smashed head-on into the living barrier of Wiji warriors.
—Kwang! Kwang! Kwaaang!
Horse carcasses weighing dozens of times a man soared upward, necks broken, blotting out the sun. Men who could not overcome their own speed hit the ground and rolled like bloody balls through dust and blood. Wiji and Blood Sect fighters drove blades into each other’s guts as they fell together. Laughter and screams filled the air.
The Blood Sect numbers were simply too great. The Black Dragon Branch was being annihilated at terrifying speed. The Blood Sect advance never slowed for an instant. The blood-soaked canyon that had been a distant silhouette now loomed almost within reach.
“We’re almost there!”
A cultist mid-melee wiped blood from his face and shouted. The North Sea Ice Palace and Wiji warriors trying to stop them yelled over one another.
“Damn it! We can’t let them get inside!”
“Less than half a ke left! If we keep racing like this we’ll all be dragged into that death zone with them!”
Hanging from the pole, Wi Ryong-ha thrashed like a madman.
—Crack!
His left wrist dislocated. The hemp cord that had locked his body to the pole snapped. He threw every last ounce of strength into shaking free.
—Crrrack!
Wi Ryong-ha’s eyes flew open. The remaining cords parted. For a heartbeat his body floated free of the pole.
“Mmmph!”
The ankle rope caught and swung him in a wild arc.
“Aaaah! The center of gravity—!”
The monkey-masked giant screamed. Unable to hold the sudden shift, the pole pitched forward. Upside-down, Wi Ryong-ha’s head plunged straight toward the racing ground. He screamed through the gag.
“Mmmph!!!”
“Hnnngh!”
The monkey-mask cultist threw his entire body into gripping the pole.
—Chaaaak!
Blood sprayed as his palms burst open. Wi Ryong-ha’s forehead stopped a hair’s breadth from the blur of wasteland racing past. He dangled upside-down, held only by the ankle cord. Gravel flashed by at the speed of light, a single fingernail’s width from his skull.
The monkey-mask rider, still fighting to rebalance the pole, shouted in panic.
“Kkugh…! I can’t pull him back up!”
The pole sagged lower.
—Pssht! Pssht-pssht!
“Mmmph!”
Wi Ryong-ha’s forehead began to graze the ground. Sharp stones tore open his brow. The instant his head fully struck, his neck would snap like a hawk taking a rabbit.
The pursuing warriors cried out in horror.
“Young master! Save the young master!”
“Protect the hostage!”
Behind them dozens more blood-mad cultists, Wiji fighters, and Ice Palace warriors stabbed, leapt from saddle to saddle, and tangled together. Every time one man took a step closer, another crashed into him with a blade, and both tumbled from their horses. Blood mist sprayed on every side.
The monkey-mask cultist poured cold sweat and screamed.
“Someone—someone help me! I can’t hold him like this until we arrive! I can’t last!!!”
“Mmph-mmph-mmph!”
Wi Ryong-ha’s forehead bounced against the earth again and again.
—Kwa-kwa-kwa…
Sweat gleamed on the cultist’s bare neck beneath the monkey mask. The pole drooped lower still.
“No, no…!”
The monkey-mask man howled.
“He’s falling—he’s falling!”
“Mmmph!!”
Wi Ryong-ha’s neck slammed toward the ground.
—Thock.
An iron-gauntleted hand suddenly shot out of empty air and seized the pole.
—Gugu-guk…!
Even with one hand gripping only the tip, the pole began to rise as though weightless.
“Mmmph?!”
Wi Ryong-ha’s eyes flew wide as he was hauled skyward. The monkey-mask cultist cried out in relief.
“We’re saved! Another second and it would’ve been over—thank—!”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Huh…?”
Sensing something alien, the monkey-mask man jerked his head around. Running level with the Death-Fall Horse, black lightning crackling around him, a man held the pole in one iron fist. On his back rode the white-haired Young Palace Master of the North Sea Ice Palace. Pale blue frost was condensing in both her hands.
The monkey-mask cultist’s face twisted in pure terror.
“You son of a—!”
“Eat this!”
Seol Ye-rin swept both arms with all her strength.
A colossal storm of ice tore straight through the Blood Sect horde.
—Jjjeo-jeo-jeong!!
A vast ice tempest swept across the Blood Sect ranks and swallowed them whole.