Mute Child
The aftermath of the Heaven-Defying Bloodflow Great Method, the secret art of the Blood Demon, was a scene of utter devastation.
The livelihood the common folk of Gansu had once built with their own hands had been trampled into ruin by the blood hordes and fires of the Blood Cult.
In every street, severed flesh and screams mingled with the wails of those who had lost their families, while ash fell like rain and streamed over their heads.
The common people were like weeds scattered along the roadside; when the storms of the jianghu rolled in, they were uprooted without mercy.
It would surely take a long time before the people of Gansu could claw their way through this wound and return to ordinary life.
Step, step.
Amid the wreckage of collapsed buildings, the faint sound of someone walking lightly over dirt thick with soot rang out.
Even the long black hair trailing down her back was dusted gray, ash clinging to it and bleaching those fine strands to the color of cinders.
And yet the woman moved through the ruins without the slightest hesitation.
The reason she was picking her way through the collapsed buildings was simple.
If there were any who still needed a helping hand, she would help them.
If there were any remnants of the Blood Cult left behind to answer for their crimes, she would cut them down.
When a person was good, Heaven rewarded them.
When a person sinned, Heaven punished them.
It was the most uncomplicated principle imaginable, and yet it was the most natural law in the world, a rule that pierced straight through the workings of all things.
In the Mo Sect, this was called Heaven's Will.
Those who were helped in accordance with Heaven's Will bowed their heads to the woman and showered her with praise. Some called her a great hero, others a peerless expert, and some even called her an immortal, but she did not spare any of it even a sidelong glance.
To speak of fame in the jianghu was, in the end, nothing more than a label affixed in an arena where everyone held a blade or spear to someone else's throat.
She had no interest in such praise at all.
"Adopted Sister."
At the deep voice calling to her, she turned her head.
The sturdy man was also covered in ash, which had settled over his neat white Daoist robes; for a moment, he looked almost as though he were dressed in the same color as her own black martial garb.
Baehyeon adjusted the Taiji-patterned sash around his waist and smiled wearily yet gently. It was the mild, approachable air of the leader of Wudang.
But Mukjeok snorted coldly and snapped back, "Sister, my foot. I am forty-three."
"You're younger than me, so what if I call you 'sister'? Even if you were to call this poor Taoist 'elder brother,' I would not mind."
At Baehyeon's useless little joke, delivered with a wink, Mukjeok visibly shuddered. The reason was simple: the lighthearted tease of the Wudang Sect Leader sounded to her like a grotesque attempt at flirtation.
For a sect leader to behave with such shameless levity—Wudang's dignity was in serious trouble. Thinking that, Mukjeok shook her head.
"Shut your mouth. You're giving me the creeps. What happened to the Blood Cult remnants that ran away?"
At Mukjeok's question, the softness in Baehyeon's expression slowly faded. In its place came a heavy, expressionless calm.
"Most of the Blood Cultists were slaughtered. After they saw you, the Venerable One of Shaolin, and the Namgung Clan Head join forces to cut down the Blood Demon, their morale collapsed. They broke formation and scattered like a rabble."
"The higher-ups?"
"Regrettably, we didn't catch them."
At that, Mukjeok's brows twitched faintly.
"You let them get away?"
"Halfway, yes."
"And the other half?"
"We could pursue them if we really wanted to, but our losses are considerable as well. With the Blood Demon's head already severed, the Blood Cult is all but on the brink of annihilation, so the alliance decided it would be best to first tend to Gansu's losses and then resume the pursuit."
When he finished speaking, Baehyeon pressed his lips into a grim line. Seeing that, Mukjeok gave a derisive snort.
"So the so-called righteous sects, who go on and on about defending justice, are just going to let them walk away? Hah. They're cornered rats, and those noble factions are too afraid to finish them off. Pathetic."
"Do not paint us with too broad a brush, Adopted Sister. Many of the younger talents from the Sichuan Tang Clan, Mount Hua, Zhongnan, and Qingcheng have lost their lives, and the sects that sent reinforcements to Gansu are no better off. In particular, the Gongdong Sect of Gansu suffered terrible losses, with half their elders dead. How could one say their wounds are not grievous?"
Mukjeok fell silent at that. Baehyeon's words were sound, and there was nothing wrong with them.
Still, she could not shake the sour taste of letting the Blood Cult remnants go free. It was like cutting off the worm's head and tail and leaving the body to rot in the dirt—who could say when it might writhe again?
Should I pursue them on my own? Mukjeok thought.
But the war was over. The defense had succeeded. The Murim Alliance had declared that they would go no further in the pursuit.
She could chase them down here and now and snuff out their breathing, but would that not go against the teachings of non-aggression passed down by the sages?
Besides, the enemy had been driven into a corner and was probably poisoned with rage. She herself was in no condition to be considered unharmed after her battle with the Blood Demon.
Her internal energy was in disarray, and her dantian had taken serious damage. Recovery would unquestionably take a great deal of time.
If she fought the Blood Cult's higher-ups in this state, she might end up like Pang Juan, hounding Sun Bin only to destroy herself in the process.
Mukjeok was by nature a coldly rational person, and she revered the teachings of her sect with uncompromising rigor.
So she stood there like a stone monument, lost in thought for a long while.
Then, all at once—
Haaah, haaah.
She heard breathing.
That breath broke the thread of her thoughts.
"Shh."
Mukjeok pressed a finger to her lips and looked at Baehyeon. Though he had not actually said anything, he nodded and followed her lead.
Haaah, haaah.
There it was again. The breathing was faint and fragile, as though it might gutter out at any moment.
The instant they confirmed it, the two of them sprang toward the source.
"Where is it?"
"Under the building. Listen closely. It might be pinned under the rubble."
The two quickly assessed the situation. Baehyeon lifted a fallen wooden beam, while Mukjeok cleared away clumps of dirt and pulled aside the debris.
They divided the work with practiced ease, and before a quarter of an hour had passed, they found the source of the sound.
"Ah…"
Baehyeon let out a pained sigh. Mukjeok, too, stared at the sight before her with a rigid expression.
What they had uncovered from the cracks in the rubble was the corpse of a woman, dead and cold, clutching a baby tightly in her arms.
Judging by the deep bite marks torn into her throat, she had fallen victim to one of the Blood Cult's monsters.
The breathing had been coming from the tiny infant in her embrace.
The two exchanged a quick glance, then carefully reached toward the child.
The woman's determination to protect the baby had been desperate indeed, for prying the infant free from the corpse was no easy task.
Holding the baby with extreme care, Mukjeok checked its pulse and breathing.
"It's still alive. But only barely. At this rate, it won't last even until the second watch."
The infant's tightly shut eyes fluttered open just a fraction, and it met Mukjeok's gaze.
The eyes of a life hanging by a thread, as fragile as a lamp in the wind, drew pity and compassion from Mukjeok's usually hard-set stare. Seeing the child's condition, she bit her lip.
"Let me see."
Baehyeon stepped over and checked the child's pulse. After frowning for a moment, he spoke.
"It has inhaled far too much smoke. Fire and soot have filled its organs and lungs. If there's any blessing in this at all, it is that there are no other major injuries, and it was not struck by blood or demonic arts. That woman's devotion to protecting the child paid off in the end."
"Is there any hope? Can it be saved?"
"With Wudang's Six Yang Heart Formula, I can at least stabilize the disrupted meridians. And since Brother Sun and the elders of Qingcheng are still in Gansu, it would be wise to ask them for help as well."
Mukjeok nodded. At the same time, Baehyeon gathered his inner power and began channeling the Six Yang Heart Formula into the baby.
The infant's erratic blood flow surged in a way that seemed dangerously unstable, then gradually settled into a steadier pattern.
Standing beside him with a rigid expression, Mukjeok shot Baehyeon a sharp glare whenever the baby's blood flow began to convulse, but when it stabilized once more, she concealed her inward admiration and looked at him with forced composure.
Infusing a baby with inner power was like an Overlord gripping a chick in his fist; apply even a little too much force, and it would burst apart.
Yet he had succeeded in performing that hair's-breadth feat. As expected, the reputation of Baehyeon, the Wudang Sect Leader known as the master of stillness within movement, was no hollow thing.
Drawing a deep breath, Baehyeon wiped away the sweat beading on his brow and said, "I shall take this child to the people of Qingcheng. You make a cradle so the baby can rest."
Mukjeok nodded. Then, at once, the two of them rushed off in opposite directions.
So what in the world was this situation?
Surrounded by old men who looked utterly exhausted, I strained my brain to make sense of it all.
As I calmed myself and organized my thoughts, looking around at my surroundings, I saw faces that felt strangely familiar.
How should I put it…
They looked like game characters.
Well, a bit younger than I remembered them being.
That neat, upright middle-aged man over there looked like the leader of Wudang, and the plump one holding me looked like the leader of Qingcheng.
I tried moving my hands this way and that.
Then instead of my hands, I saw tiny little baby hands.
Huh?
I wiggled around, and it really did seem like my body was moving exactly as I wanted it to.
Good grief. Unbelievable.
After running myself ragged all day like a total wreck, it seemed even my dreams had become game dreams.
"Brother Sun, what do you think?"
"...Damn it."
"What's wrong?"
"Just look at this."
After saying that, the plump-looking old man suddenly shoved a finger into my mouth.
I could taste salt and bitterness at the same time. Even when I tried to close my mouth, there was a strange foreign sensation where my teeth should have been.
"The wound on its tongue has begun to fester and rot. It must have been buried under the rubble for several days."
At those words, the neat old man's face grew dark in an instant.
"If the decay has progressed this far, even the physicians of the Tang Clan or Qingnang Sect won't have any way to help."
As soon as he finished speaking and pulled his finger out—
"……!!"
A searing pain pierced my tongue.
It hurt so badly that a scream shot out of me on instinct.
"Kkgh, k-kaugh…!"
I coughed out my breath like a choking man.
What came from my throat was not a proper scream, but only a strangled, rasping sound, as though my airway had been blocked.
Seeing that, someone clicked their tongue with sympathy.
"Tsk, tsk. Poor child. The smoke and fire have damaged its throat too."
At those words, I could feel the hands of the man holding me grow even warmer.
The crease between his brows deepened into a川 shape, and the kind, plump-looking face somehow felt suddenly terrifying.
"Those filthy demonic bastards…."
"Brother Sun, calm yourself. First we need to preserve the child's life."
"Haaah... You're right. We must save those who can be saved."
As soon as he finished speaking, a cool current burst from the old man's grasp.
At the same time, my eyelids grew heavy once more.
Just before my eyes closed completely and I drifted back into sleep, I heard the man's heavy voice.
"In the end, it seems I am fated to steal this child's voice and commit yet another sin! Child, when you cross the River of Three Crossings in the future, forgive this poor Taoist by reporting me to King Yama!"
Wait, old man.
What exactly are you talking about?
Before I could even fully grasp the question, the god of sleep swallowed me whole.
***
For Mukjeok, who had studied the Mo Sect's mechanisms and woodworking arts, making a cradle was an easy task.
From the wreckage strewn across the ground, she gathered usable wood and straw, then wrapped it in the least dirty-looking cloth she could find.
Even if it was a little uncomfortable, it would at least serve its purpose as a bed for a newborn baby.
After finishing the cradle, Mukjeok sat down cross-legged and began regulating her breathing and circulating her inner energy.
Even though she had fought the Blood Demon alongside two of the righteous path's greatest experts, that devil had still inflicted severe damage upon her dantian. It seemed likely that recovering from this injury would take at least more than a decade.
More than a decade.
Mukjeok fell into thought.
It had already been more than a decade since she had taken up the will of the Mo Sect's sages, roaming the jianghu to seek benefit for all under Heaven and eliminate harm.
At first, her passion had been to travel with fellow chivalrous heroes who shared her ideals, building fellowship and striving for the good of all.
As she watched herself in black robes fluttering through the world, slaughtering heretical demons and evildoers, the heroes of the jianghu had praised her and given her the epithet Moon Crow.
But she knew that even that passion had been slowly cooling with each passing day.
The Yuan had retreated from Central Plains, and the Great Ming had unified the land, and that had already been decades ago.
And yet, what had truly changed?
The heretical and demonic factions still coveted the jianghu as always, while the emperor pointed his blade northward.
Who had been the one to say that unifying the realm was the same as bringing stability to the realm, the same as peace?
Mukjeok asked herself:
Was this world truly stable?
Though Central Plains had been united beneath the banners of Great Ming, why did the righteous sects still pursue only their own profit, the evil sects covet what belonged to others, the demonic path grind the lives of common folk into dust and drink them dry, and the imperial court turn its blade toward the lands of the non-Han tribes?
If peace had truly come to the world, why did everyone still bare their blades at one another, covet one another's possessions, and take one another's lives?
Were the ideals of universal love and non-aggression that Master Mo had cried out for truly possible in this present age?
Even Mukjeok's faith and conviction in her sect were beginning to crack more and more with each passing day.
Even the Moon Crow of the realm could not be free from inner demons.
To forget those demons, Mukjeok quietly recalled a passage from the Mo Classic.
As she did, the voice in her mind sounded exactly like her father's.
When a great fire consumes the house, will you be the one who throws on even a cup of tea water, or the one who pours on oil and fans the flames?
I…
Of course I want to be the one who throws on tea water.
After two more hours had passed, she slowly opened her eyes at the sound of someone approaching.
The footsteps of three people were coming toward the ruins where she sat.
One was from Wudang, and the other two were from Qingcheng.
Keeping her eyes half-open, Mukjeok simply waited for them while steadying her inner power.