Washing Away the Blood
To pull a stunt like this against the Blood Cult, of all things. The Blood Cult.
I tore through every corner of the Green Forest Band’s manor, but the golden bronze incense burner that would have proven the trial’s success was nowhere to be found.
“Damn it all.”
There was nothing left for me on a battlefield carpeted with corpses or inside a manor whose masters were all dead.
Time is short. Wipe the traces. Now.
It was the first time Mumyeong had ever sounded this urgent.
I piled the bodies, doused the field with the oil the Blood Cult had stockpiled, and set it alight. Flames rose and swallowed everything. Rain-soaked earth and trees offered a feeble resistance that lasted only a heartbeat. Thick black smoke rolled out as the whole scene vanished into nothing.
I put as much distance as I could between myself and the lake, then turned to watch the fire from afar.
Whoosh.
The ruined battlefield was devoured without a trace, reduced to ash and emptiness. I stripped off my shredded clothes, burned them, and pulled out a fresh set of martial robes.
Splash.
I washed my face.
“Not nearly enough.”
I peeled off my upper garments entirely and waded into the water, scrubbing every inch of myself. The lake had been churned into muddy soup, but the faint earthy smell was perfect for drowning out the reek of blood.
My body was a lattice of cuts and gashes. I yanked free the blades and spearheads still lodged in my flesh and flung them away, then walked deeper. A searing pain spread through me as if my entire body were on fire. I clenched my teeth and pushed toward the center of the lake. My blood and the blood of others mixed and bloomed outward through the water.
In a world filled with nothing but silence, the only sound was me washing myself.
…
While I rinsed my hair I muttered, “Do me a favor and shut up.”
I scooped muddy water in my palms and scrubbed my face hard. The red streaks spread, then vanished into the murk without a trace.
Host.
I splashed more water over my face.
“I told you not to say a word.”
I buried my face in my hands and dragged in ragged breaths.
“No matter how hard I scrub, I can’t get that scene out of my head.”
I had heard that human sacrifice was common in the Blood Cult. I had heard that even the Demonic Cult refused to treat them as people. Seeing it with my own eyes was something else entirely.
What you did this time was truly foolish.
“Shut your mouth.”
No. I will not.
“What did you just say?”
My hands stopped. As my heartbeat quickened, fresh blood seeped from the reopened wounds and clouded the water around me.
The wounds are worsening. Beginning emergency restoration.
“What? Wait—!”
Bite down.
Before I could draw another breath every wound on my body sealed as if time itself had reversed.
“Ghk—aaargh!”
The sudden, violent healing dropped me to my knees in the water.
“You son of a bitch!”
We have only just begun the trials, and you have already wasted the one recovery method we possess. Hopeless. In a world of pure survival of the fittest, what exactly did you think you were relying on when you acted so recklessly?
“What?!”
I spat foam and saliva while Mumyeong poured the words out without pause.
What did you gain by opening that hellscape? What remains? Did you save a single life? Did you even walk away with a single grain of rice or a single coin?
I opened my mouth.
“I…”
My tongue wet cracked lips. In the end I could not manage a single reply. Cooling reason returned like a slap, and I knew better than anyone that Mumyeong was right.
Be more careful from now on. If something like this happens again, then I too will—
Mumyeong stopped.
I will say no more.
“Ugh.”
The wounds on my body had closed, but my heart felt hollowed out. Once the rage that had burned inside me died, only white ash remained.
…
I stared at the water lapping against my waist. A burning thirst rose in my throat.
“Mumyeong.”
What is it?
“After the Heavenly Demon Jade shattered, you said our bodies were mixed and rebuilt, that you—the remnant of the Heavenly Demon—and I, the host, would inevitably influence each other.”
That is correct.
I looked past the lake toward the last dying flames and murmured, “Then am I still Moyong Bi?”
Of course you—
“Bathing in muddy water like some lowborn dog. How vulgar.”
I lifted my head. A group stood on the shore, watching me.
No killing intent.
Mumyeong added the observation quietly, as if it barely needed saying.
Weapons hung at their waists. Three men and one woman, all young martial artists in their early to mid-twenties. At first my skin prickled with the fear that they belonged to the Demonic Cult or the Blood Cult, but their neat attire and refined features said otherwise.
“Might I ask,” I began carefully, “which faction the honored guests belong to?”
They flinched at the sound of my voice.
“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, you filthy Green Forest remnant?!”
All four had their hands on their hilts, a hair’s breadth from drawing.
“I don’t know what cheap tricks you used to sow chaos, but it’s disgusting. Come out and face the blade of Aryun, third-generation disciple of the Zhongnan Sect!”
The thin, sharp-faced man in blue—Aryun—actually drew his sword and leveled it at me.
Thump.
My pulse climbed the moment the edge pointed my way. A droplet of water fell from my chin. My fists clenched. The blood-soaked battlefield instincts that had carried me through life and death still hummed in my fingertips.
Breathe.
I drew a long breath and let the rising anger dissolve like sugar in water.
“There seems to be a misunderstanding. I am not of the Green Forest.”
The woman with long hair and violet martial robes snapped back in a sharp voice, “Nonsense! What else am I supposed to call someone casually bathing in the middle of Green Forest territory?!”
“Step back, Miss Eunpyeong. I will deal with this savage myself!”
Aryun moved to shield the woman in violet—Eunpyeong. Her fluttering sash caught my eye: three golden lines and the character for Autumn embroidered on it.
Chu-mu-gwan disciples of Cheonsubaekryeonsa.
They belonged to the higher hall that Jin Muje and Moyong Ryu had already entered ahead of me. I had never heard of trial grounds overlapping. In Ha-mu-gwan, Hyeonhobong was already assigned to me; we should never have met. But halls of different ranks pursued different goals—some overlap was possible.
Before the misunderstanding could explode I hurriedly clasped my fists and declared my identity.
“Do not attack. I am also a disciple of Cheonsubaekryeonsa.”
“What?”
They hesitated. I pressed on quickly.
“I am currently carrying out a trial related to the elimination of the Green Forest Band. On the shore over there, among my belongings, you will find my identity plaque and emblems. Please examine them.”
I raised my hands slowly so as not to provoke them and pointed to the bundle of clothes and gear I had left on the bank. They exchanged glances, then began ransacking my things. The three men led the way, dumping everything onto the ground.
“Huh? What’s this?”
They found my plaque and the sash. Two golden lines and the character for Summer were stitched into it. They lifted the sash on a sword tip.
“What is this?”
“Pfft.”
They started laughing. The woman sheathed her sword with a snicker.
“Just a Ha-mu-gwan disciple out on a little picnic?”
The big, blunt-faced man chimed in, “What a letdown, Miss Eunpyeong. I thought we might finally see some real skill, and instead we run into a kid on a trial.”
“Indeed, Young Master Daesajun.”
Daesajun scratched the back of his head with a grin that looked odd on his massive frame. Aryun muttered irritably, “Annoying. Having Ha-mu-gwan trash loitering around our trial site makes it feel like we’re the same rank.”
I clenched my teeth in silence. Avoiding conflict came first.
“I will leave the lake. Please do not attack.”
They were almost certainly stronger than me. This martial world had always been a sky beyond the sky. I had once grown arrogant because I could copy martial arts—until So Yeomgyo of the Blood Death Sect crushed me in an instant. Even after the miraculous fortune of swallowing two roots of Heavenly White Ginseng and gaining nearly a full gapja of inner energy, meeting Jeokmaryeong had shown me despair that felt like the sky collapsing. Whatever I imagined, the world always stood higher. People like me lived in the palm of the Buddha’s hand.
Hands still raised, I walked slowly toward the shore.
“Put some clothes on. You’re an eyesore.”
Daesajun, the large man in green, hooked my discarded garments with his sword tip as if picking up trash and tossed them at me.
“One wrong move and your wrists are gone. Remember we’re still watching you, Ha-mu-gwan scum.”
I bent, picked up the clothes, and pulled them on without even drying off. The fabric clung wetly to my skin.
“How rough and hideous. That body…”
Eunpyeong murmured. Aryun flared and stepped in front of her.
“Miss Eunpyeong! Do not soil your eyes on the body of such a vulgar creature! The true beauty of a martial artist is not that kind of brutishly trained savage physique!”
The soft flesh I once carried had been burned away during two and a half years in the sealed cave, surviving on nothing but rat meat, rotten moss, and water while training like a madman. Even on the hardest roads I had never skipped a day of practice driven by pure grudge. My body now was little more than muscle wrapped in a thin layer of skin, carrying a blade-like edge.
Savage, is it?
I could not deny it. No one would call it handsome even as flattery. I looked at my hands as I tied the sash. I still remembered the shock of seeing Pahwanggun’s bear-paw bare hands during the entrance exam. Mine were not yet on that level, but they were far from ordinary.
…
Every time I saw the calluses I felt less pride than the heavy memory of myself weeping and clinging desperately in the dark.
If even my current level looks like this… how much unimaginable training and pain have the masters above me endured?
It would be a lie to say I felt no disappointment. I had held a quiet longing for Chu-mu-gwan. Every trial had been brutal for me. Failure meant a death sentence, so I had fought harder than anyone. I had wondered what kind of people those who had already passed such trials and risen higher would be.
The ones standing in front of me looked as if they had never suffered a day in their lives. Their skin was unburned by sun. Their hands had no calluses; their fingers were long, white, and delicate. Their robes were elegant and refined. Even their swords looked refined. Their hair was neatly arranged and carried an air of dignity.
I was the complete opposite—a wretched sight. My skin was rough and torn. My hair was coarse enough to snap. Even the new clothes I had put on were already frayed and fluttering at the hems. My weapon was a cheap iron sword I had never held for more than three months straight. My shoes were worn through, my nails cracked and thick from countless washings, my fingers thick as a bear’s.
That was me right now.
I studied the four Chu-mu-gwan seniors one by one. The pretty young woman called Eunpyeong in form-fitting violet robes that showed off long, slender legs. The skinny, sharp-featured man named Aryun. The large, blunt-faced man named Daesajun. And the unremarkable man standing quietly behind him, smiling faintly as if he barely existed.
In this group Daesajun and Aryun were openly competing for Eunpyeong’s attention, and she was quietly enjoying it. Even I could see that.
These are the people of Chu-mu-gwan?
A faint disappointment, anger, and frustration began to eat at my chest. These pretty boys and girls who had never faced a single life-or-death crisis, who had never truly suffered, who stood around flirting—these were Chu-mu-gwan?
Aryun strode up to me while I stood still and jabbed a finger into my chest.
“So, Ha-mu-gwan trash. Looking at the state of you, the Green Forest already beat you, stole your clothes, and you were taking a bath to pull yourself together?”
It was the most transparent act imaginable—the classic move of a man crushing another man in front of a woman to show off his own masculinity.
“…That…”
I considered for a moment how to respond. Then I decided to play along.
“No, you son of a bitch.”