Chapter 104
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 104
Chapter Title: Peerless Wudang
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“Hey, Dew-Cutting Sword Guest. Is there any need to leave Kunlun's spot empty? I'm here.”
With that, a single longsword flew in and embedded itself into one of the remaining pillars.
The blue blade, trembling while stuck in the pillar, bore the engraving of a black dragon rippling faintly.
It was unmistakably the treasured sword of Kunlun Sword Immortal Yukmun, Black Dragon Mark.
“What, Kunlun Sword Immortal?”
Everyone in the hall was startled upon seeing the old Taoist slowly approaching after hurling the sword.
Of course, it wasn't a bad kind of surprise. It was one of joy and delight.
“Well, if it isn't Yukmun Immortal? I thought we wouldn't see you... How wonderful to meet you.”
Emei Sect's Golden Bell Nun was the first to offer her warm greetings, and the others followed suit one by one.
A moment later, after exchanging greetings, Yukmun Immortal extended one hand toward the Black Dragon Mark embedded in the pillar.
He was employing the technique of Grasping from Afar.
Surprisingly, however, the Black Dragon Mark didn't fly straight to him. Instead, it wriggled slightly in place.
For that fleeting instant, it had clearly squirmed like a living creature before being pulled from the pillar and landing in Yukmun Immortal's hand.
The experts in the hall all noticed that trace and were astonished.
More than astonishment, their expressions showed clear agitation.
- Unyielding Kunlun
It wasn't shock at Yukmun Immortal's technique, but at the meaning carried by those four characters.
“Indeed, Kunlun Sect has suffered under the Demonic Cult's oppression.”
Jin Hwi sighed like this, and Yukmun Immortal nodded.
At the same time, he parted the side of his robe to reveal the wound on his flank.
That wound, of course, had been left by the Blood Rain Needles fired by the Blood Water Assassins, and even now, days later, it remained unhealed, oozing dark bloodstains.
“Moreover, I've been suffering from an ambush myself.”
“What? Could that be a poison wound?”
“That's right. It's called Blood Rain Needle—made from freezing the blood of some venomous leech, and its ferocity is beyond words.”
“Are you alright now?”
Yukmun Immortal nodded in response.
“I haven't fully expelled it, but I'm managing to hold on.”
“What kind of vicious poison could trouble even the Kunlun Sword Immortal of the world...?”
Now everyone began asking about Kunlun Sect's closure of their gates, but Yukmun Immortal cut them off with a single remark.
“Let's take it slow. This doesn't seem like the time.”
Indeed, this was right in the midst of the Ten Heavenly Schools' opening ceremony.
Everyone shifted their attention from Kunlun Sword Immortal back to Golden Bell Nun.
With only one pillar left—the Wudang Sect's—their eyes held questions about how it would be handled.
“It seems Wudang has no intention of showing up. They haven't sent even a single message.”
“Quite so. Let's wrap up the ceremony and head to the main hall for the banquet. With disciples from all Eight Great Schools gathered like this, what a joyous day!”
As Radiant Sword Immortal Sayunbo chimed in, everyone nodded in agreement.
After this, the search of Mingma Mountain would begin, but today was a day for all to gather, drink, eat, and revel.
Now, people began entering the front Clear Brightness Pavilion in twos and threes, chatting amiably.
Among those groups were several Shaolin martial monks in yellow robes with red sashes.
And among those Shaolin monks was a young novice with his head freshly shaved blue.
He was, of course, Smiling Buddha Hyeonjin.
No one paid the novice any mind, but his gaze was already tracking Kunlun Sword Immortal Yukmun.
The next morning, however.
Several people had gathered beneath one of the Clear Brightness Hall's pillars, staring up at it.
- Peerless Wudang
Those four characters were engraved on the one pillar among the Clear Brightness Hall's ten that had been empty.
“Huh... That's unmistakably Wudang's pure qi in the brushwork, combined with swordsmanship.”
Ilseonja muttered while gazing at the four characters.
“Peerless Wudang. No idea what they're scheming.”
“Isn't it literal? It means they won't join this Ten Heavenly Schools gathering.”
“You think I don't get that? What I don't get is the intent behind declaring themselves peerless.”
“It's been quite a while, hasn't it? For Wudang's experts to mingle with us like this.”
The previous night's hearty and joyous banquet lingered in their minds as the Ten Heavenly Schools' experts, starting the day slowly, had gathered beneath the pillar from early morning and were debating hotly.
“Arrogant fools. Peerless, they say.”
Jin Hwi grumbled with a furrowed brow, and Golden Bell Nun muttered with an even more displeased expression before leaving.
“But no one saw who left the writing like that. Tsk tsk...”
Starting with Golden Bell Nun, the loudly chattering crowd dispersed one by one.
Now, only the younger disciples from each sect remained, nodding belatedly.
Among them was Hyeonjin, dressed as a fresh-faced novice monk.
His face was calm, but traces of anger lingered clearly in his eyes.
* * *
Deep into the night, in a rundown tavern in a back alley of Dunhuang.
“Kaaah. This is more my style.”
It was Dogwang.
He drained a bowl sloshing with cheap rotgut liquor, slamming it down on the table.
Then he picked up one of the wooden skewers on the table and brought it to his mouth.
It was mystery meat finely chopped, skewered, and grilled over charcoal.
“This isn't rat meat, is it? Kekeke.”
Dogwang ate a few pieces like that, then tilted his bowl again.
Standing before him was Seonwoyong, who sat quietly.
“Come on, let's drink our fill tonight. This is farewell for good to Dogwang.”
Dogwang raised his bowl to the silent Seonwoyong.
Seonwoyong slowly emptied his bowl and spoke.
“Faster than expected.”
Dogwang nodded.
“That's how it turned out. The old fogeys showed up. No running from it now.”
The rundown tavern was empty, and the oil lamp burning with soaked wick only belched thick soot.
“I heard. You put that Huashan braggart in his place?”
“Kekeke... Word travels fast. His skills weren't much after all. I went at him seriously, but...”
“Huashan martial arts can't be nothing special, but that Sword Immortal title was definitely overhyped.”
“Tell me about it. Anyway, now I have to tend to Wudang matters again, and you to yours...”
Dogwang was shedding his Dogwang identity.
The moment he defeated Huashan's Sword Immortal, it was decided.
He might not return to being the Wandering Sword Scholar, but he had clearly reclaimed his status as the youngest of Wudang's Seven Sages, Son Mugi.
“Defeating Huashan's Sword Immortal—you'll get some Sword Immortal title yourself now, huh? Hahaha.”
Seonwoyong smiled and offered well-wishes, but Son Mugi's expression wasn't bright.
“You know better than anyone it won't be fun? For me, the best times were gambling in that Xi'an den.”
Seonwoyong nodded.
It was the mad gambler, the degenerate he'd first met as Son Mugi.
He'd seen at a glance how extraordinary his attainments were.
Son Mugi had already stepped onto the threshold's end of martial arts.
But back then, he was an outsider adrift from the world, at odds with it.
He didn't know why and hadn't pried, but he could understand.
Perhaps it was a case of kindred spirits connecting without words.
Afterward, the two had shared friendship, and he hadn't denied it.
“Yeah, that was you at your truest.”
Seonwoyong pondered for a while before replying, and Son Mugi immediately countered.
“I'm returning to my original Wudang disciple role, but you're going back to your true identity too?”
Seonwoyong shook his head at Son Mugi's words.
“Your words are way off. I have no intention of going back to who I was.”
Son Mugi asked in surprise.
“Then what do you plan to do?”
“Me? I'll deliver what needs delivering, then live as Seonwoyong. Hole up in some tavern mooching gold, or open a merchant house and make money. That's the plan.”
“Heh... Sounds enviable. I'd love to just hole up in a gambling den myself.”
“What's hard about it? With your skills, you can make a killing anywhere and live freely after.”
“Kekeke... Not hard at all, but... I've received much, so I can't just abandon it.”
“From Wudang?”
Son Mugi nodded.
“They took in an orphan like me and made me who I am today—how can I think only of myself?”
“Master Jinmu. Your master.”
“That's right. He's no different from my own father—more than that, even. With him come this far, how could I run?”
“I see. In that regard, I'm much freer than you. I just deliver my message, and that's it.”
“So you've come all this way just to deliver that message?”
“Mm. That wouldn't be far off.”
“Heh... Probably some sacred relic from the Ming Cult. Once it's delivered, blood winds will surely sweep the Central Plains.”