Worse Than Beasts

"You're telling me the Green Forest Band did this?"

In the red glow of the setting sun, a thin wind stirred, and the corpses hanging from the trees swayed faintly with it.

"Your breathing is getting far too fast. Stay calm."

I had tried to look composed, but in the end the tension had gotten to me without my noticing. I clenched my teeth. I locked strength into my knees.

The stench of blood filled my nose so thickly it felt like it might stop my breath altogether.

—Bzzzz.

Flies swarmed. Maggots dropped free.

This experience taught me something. "The stench of blood" was a false phrase storytellers only used when spinning their tall tales. What you actually smelled was better called the stench of guts. The slick entrails were rotting, and as they did they gave off that wet, distinctive reek all the more strongly. Beneath the trees, droplets of blood fell and fell until they formed little streams.

—Splat.

I approached the trees.

"This wasn't the Green Forest Band."

And the closer I came, the clearer it became that this was no ordinary affair.

"There are civilians mixed in, but judging by the clothes, the majority of these corpses are actually Green Forest men. Wait—hold on. This is… it can't be."

A particular brand of madness I had never encountered in the trials until now. That madness clung thickly from the very first impression.

"Good gods."

Shock bled into Mumyeong's tone.

"This is the Blood Cult."

Heading north, I had half expected something like this. Baekhakmubong, which lay to the north, was a region where the Blood Cult and the Demonic Cult overlapped. And though those two orders shared the same roots, they were bitter enemies who could not share the same sky. We had put some distance between ourselves and Baekhakmubong, but this place, too, sat close to the border between those two powers. So somewhere in the back of my mind I had wondered whether this trial would tangle us up with them again.

But when that possibility became reality, a despair I could not put into words came crashing down on me.

"The Blood Cult primarily practices filthy black arts—human sacrifice using corpses and the like. There is probably not a single faction in the martial world, righteous or demonic, that can make sense of what they do. And hanging bodies from trees may look indiscriminate at a glance, but look closer and you'll see they've been placed with precision according to their own doctrine. Along the four directions of east, west, south, and north—"

"That's not what matters right now!"

I cut Mumyeong off.

"The second trial was to bring back the Golden Bronze Incense Burner held by the Green Forest Band living at the lake on Hyeonhobong! But the Green Forest Band has already been wiped out by some unidentified group, and that group is presumed to be a Blood Cult force—is that what you're telling me?!"

"Yes. And their base is likely occupied by Blood Cult remnants now. The Golden Bronze Incense Burner will be there."

I drew a breath. Let it out. Drew another.

"…Shit."

There was no choice to make. The crimson sunset blazed. I turned my back on it and walked on.

I didn't even need to go looking. Far ahead, silhouetted against the dusk, rose a mass of black rock shaped like a tiger. Below it, dense forest. And below that, against the gathering dark of twilight, red firelight was burning.

A lakeside settlement came into view. It would have been where the slaughtered Green Forest Band once lived. The place was noisy as a festival in full swing.

Taking extreme care with my stealth, I melted into the woods.

"Why the hell are Blood Cult people even here? Have the blood-demonic orders decided the border treaties aren't worth the paper they're written on?"

"Hard to say. It may be a stretch, but if I had to guess—they may be after the same thing as you, Host."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

The fifth hidden vault of the White Lotus Demon Sect. The root of both the Blood Cult and the Demonic Cult. It was more than plausible enough not to dismiss. The Blood Cult and the Demonic Cult were competing for the same objective I was.

I clicked my tongue bitterly and lowered my upper body as I closed in on the firelight.

"Stop a moment first."

Mumyeong held me back.

"Before you approach them, make me a promise, Host."

"A promise? About what?"

Mumyeong stressed every syllable.

"No matter what you see, you will not act rashly. If my memory serves and those men truly belong to the Blood Cult—what they are doing right now is—"

"What are you trying to say?"

"Anyway. Do you understand? Do not act rashly."

Mumyeong let the end of the sentence trail off. Something about the way he said it sat wrong.

"Don't worry. You think I'm crazy enough to do something stupid?"

"Ordinarily you are rational and cold-blooded, yes. I know that. But you know yourself just as well, don't you? The moment you cross the line you've drawn for yourself, you go berserk. There is a reason Jin Muje calls you a mad dog. As far as I know, you are especially sensitive when it comes to mothers…"

Mumyeong stopped there.

I looked out at the bonfire burning in the distance. The noise carried clearly.

"I'll do my best."

Mumyeong spoke again.

"In my judgment, I recommend you do not go at all. That is my honest feeling."

"If I don't go, the trial fails."

"Then so be it."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"I am always in my right mind."

This was the first time Mumyeong had ever tried this hard to stop me from something.

"Be straight with me. You've got some idea of what this is, don't you."

"A premature answer could do more harm than good. I will not reply."

"…You."

It would have been a lie to say I wasn't uneasy. But from the start, I had never had a real choice.

"I can't not go. This is our last chance. You know that too, Mumyeong. There won't be another opportunity after this."

"Very well. With the Host's mad-dog nature in mind, remember this above all else."

Mumyeong drove the point home with grim insistence.

"If even a single hen in their own yard is killed by an outsider, the Blood Cult will hunt that person down for a thousand days if they must. It is not about compensation for one hen. They are a cult of raving fanatics with whom rational negotiation is impossible. The moment a grudge begins, it does not end until one side has been annihilated."

"Got it."

The cool autumn wind turned sharply colder once the sun had gone down.

—Crack. Pop.

A massive bonfire was blazing. A man of enormous build sat in the high seat with his chin in his hand, receiving reports from his subordinates. He was draped head to foot in red cloth, making it impossible to judge the shape of his body or what weapon he carried.

—Pop.

Sparks leapt upward. Shadows wavered. The flickering shadows seemed almost to dance in a frenzy—an illusion the fire invited. Their numbers were somewhere around forty.

I killed my breath. I killed the beat of my heart. I worked to erase myself until I was nothing more than part of the forest.

This was something I had taught myself through countless life-and-death struggles and trial and error against the wooden puppets in the sixth vault. First I erased myself from my own mind. I forgot what posture I was holding. When I forgot even that I was breathing, forgot who I was—my presence shrank to almost nothing. I was the one who had hidden my presence even in a vault where a single footstep had sounded like thunder. Concealing myself in a place already full of noisy movement was, by comparison, almost absurdly easy.

"…So your investigation confirms this is the place?"

"Yes, Blood Hand Captain. The fifth vault is here without a doubt. The problem, as you know, is the same as with the other vaults."

Their conversation reached me. And it was heading somewhere I did not want to hear.

These bastards… just as I thought.

The Blood Hand Captain had painted the shape of bloody tears beneath his eyes in red pigment. Long, dark-crimson hair spilled over a red cloak, and beneath that cloak his muscles looked ready to burst. Beside him, a massive saber as thick as a child's torso leaned against the chair.

"Four of our Heavenly Flying Bird men who approached the Golden-Furred Immortal Ape were torn apart on the spot. Our estimate is that it kills anything living that comes within three jang of it, no questions asked."

Silence settled over the gathering. Against that mood, the Blood Hand Captain raked a hand through his hair and laughed heartily.

"Truly worthy of being the root of our Great Blood Cult and the legacy of our ancestors! That every vault is guarded by such a sacred beast—no, such a monster! Heaven and earth themselves would tremble at it!"

"Blood Hand Captain, this is not so simple—"

"No!"

The Blood Hand Captain's eyes flashed as he surged to his feet.

"I half doubted it until the end. But the fact that the golden monster from the old stories is sitting right there in front of us—do you understand what that means? It means the intelligence that the lost martial art of legend, Patcheon Hyeolma Gunrimbo, lies in the vault behind that beast may also be true!"

…What?!

My breath stopped.

Patcheon Hyeolma Gunrimbo!

Even in the marketplace, when storytellers spoke of the Great War between Orthodoxy and Demons, this was the demonic art that never failed to come up. A single step that could collapse heaven and earth—a supreme ascending art said to elevate its master beyond the category of a human being into something on the level of a natural disaster…!

"Blood Hand Captain, it is still too early to conclude that. It is nothing more than a very old legend…"

A subordinate was visibly trying to calm him.

No. This is real.

My heart felt ready to burst. I had already seen the Blood-Rending Heaven technique in the sixth vault. I had not laid eyes on the real thing yet, but I was certain.

—The fifth vault holds Patcheon Hyeolma Gunrimbo.

One of my greatest current weaknesses was footwork. I had Hwan-yeong-dae-sin-bo, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but as my level rose I kept running into the technique's inherent limits. I needed a higher ascending art.

I have to take it by any means necessary.

It had to be mine. I would not yield it. Every fight so far had driven home how desperately I needed my feet—my footwork. Without feet, nothing worked. Even in the worst case, you needed feet to flee and live to fight another day. In a world as vast as Heaven Beyond Heaven, for someone still as weak as I was, if I had to choose only one martial art, it would be footwork.

Even if I had to let every other secret manual and stroke of fortune slip through my fingers from this day forward—even if I had to stake everything on it—this one thing I had to claim for myself.

"Mumyeong. We're pulling out for now. The incense burner isn't what matters. First the vault—"

I muttered under my breath and started easing my body silently backward.

That was when the Blood Hand Captain planted a hand on his hip and roared in a growling voice.

"Well, we've got nothing to lose either way. So, kids—did you prepare what I told you? Let's see just how much of the old lore about that legendary golden ape-monster holds up!"

I stopped moving. The subordinates answered his order at once.

"Yes. It's ready. There were no Green Forest survivors left, so we took them from a nearby slash-and-burn village."

From one dark edge of the clearing, something bound in a line was dragged forward. Screams rose.

"Huh?"

"Ah. Just as I feared."

Mumyeong let out a low sigh. Clouds began to gather along one side of the sky. A damp, eerie wind started to blow. The forest began to sway as if a cloudburst were about to fall.

"…"

Hidden in the undergrowth, I stared blankly.

"We don't know anything! We don't know!"

"Just the child… please…!"

Women were being dragged forward with their clothes torn. There were young women among them, but most were middle-aged. They all shared one thing in common. Every one of them held a child in her arms.

—Tap. Tap-tap.

Raindrops began to fall. In the rising wind the bonfire swelled larger and larger, dancing like a thing gone mad. Beside that fire, the Blood Hand Captain raised his massive saber. Over the red blaze the blade wavered. Watching the flickering steel, the Blood Hand Captain muttered to himself.

"According to the old lore, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Golden-Furred Immortal Ape is a legacy of the White Lotus Demon Sect. Especially if you offer it twelve heads of blood-related kin as sacrifice—on that day, it will let any blasphemy pass."

"No—no!"

"Mama…!"

Screaming, mothers and children clung to each other. Even then, before that wavering saber, the mothers wrapped their whole bodies around their howling children, trying somehow to shield them.

The Blood Hand Captain smiled a thin, ugly smile.

"Sacrifices this nice and warm ought to satisfy even a White Lotus legacy, don't you think?"

"Aaaaaagh!"

I—

What am I looking at right now.

—Rumble.

The storm clouds thickened. The Blood Hand Captain seized a child's head in a brutal grip. He kicked away the mother clinging to the child.

"Aagh!"

The mother went sprawling. Even with bloody foam at her lips she crawled after the Blood Hand Captain and clung to him.

What was happening right now. None of it felt real. I was watching with my own eyes and somehow it would not enter them. While I stared blankly, the situation flowed on like water. There was no dramatic turn. No one stepped in to stop it. It simply continued the way a man picks up a spoon, takes a mouthful of rice, then reaches for his chopsticks.

"Next."

The Blood Hand Captain muttered in a bored voice. Mothers and children screamed and were dragged away one by one, limp and helpless.

—Crack.

The bonfire wavered. The shadows writhed like things gone mad.

"Next."

A mother fell.

"Next."

A child sat there dully. The bonfire flickered. In front of the child lay the fallen mother. She was still holding the child's hand. Red blood ran down the child's cheek. There was no focus in the child's eyes. There was nothing the child could do.

—Whoosh. Whoosh.

The bonfire wavered. It danced wildly.

—Thump.

A white snow mountain spread out before my eyes.

—Thump-thump.

Little me was sitting there. My mother was frozen dead in front of me as I sat staring blankly. I who had been able to do nothing. That disgusting, ugly, helpless memory.

—Seep.

A red light soaked into both my eyes. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠At some point I had become that child again. The helpless little me who could do nothing at all. The tiny child who had only been able to watch, powerless, as his mother froze to death, waiting for a father who never came.

"Y… you…!"

—Fwaaaash!

Both eyes flooded crimson.

—Shhhhhhhhh—

A torrential downpour began. With a hissing sizzle, rain struck the bonfire.

"Y… you…!"

In the driving rain, red light boiled up from my eyes like steam. The authority of the Heavenly Demon manifested.

They were the eyes of a demon that looked ready to tear the entire world to shreds.

"Damn it—no! Host! You promised!"

—Crack! Crackle-crackle!!

The Heavenly Thunder White Ginseng and Heavenly Flame White Ginseng sleeping in my dantian could not withstand the violent surge of my emotions and boiled up in a frenzy.

"Host—please!"

—KRAKOOOOOM!

The unprecedented internal energy I had built by walking the edge of death—by licking rotten rat meat and bedrock water in the sixth vault—surged upward in a tidal wave!

"Wh-what is that thing?!"

Everyone spotted me. They froze and stared.

"You—you animals…!"

A full three jiazi—one hundred and eighty years of power. A blood-red scream loaded with everything I had shook Hyeonhobong through the pouring rain.

"You bastards worse than beasts!!!"