The White Tiger of Mount Wudang

Mount Wudang was a mountain as deep and treacherous as its reputation promised. Whether the real Mount Wudang looked anything like this, I had no idea — but the Mount Wudang of martial arts novels was a famed peak among famed peaks. Even in Supreme Sword Heavenly Immortal, the line that few mountains in the Central Plains could stand beside it came up often enough.

We pushed deep into the range in search of Black Iron Wood, but the trees were nowhere to be found. By now we should already have finished cutting and been on our way back, yet here we were, wandering empty-handed through the forest.

"It's nowhere. If Black Iron Wood showed itself this easily to blind fools like us, it wouldn't cost a fortune. Let's just go back."

The short one grumbled. The burly one, equally worn down by the fruitless search, nodded along.

"Yeah. This ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is hopeless. Damn it. The Head Disciple's asking too much. This was never possible to begin with."

In the end, all we had done was waste time in the mountains. Mo Seyeong had almost certainly known we would come up empty. A woman like her would have given us an absurd order like this for no other reason than to mess with her servants.

Until she met Gong Woosun and had her change of heart, Mo Seyeong was a textbook petty tyrant.

Then, around the latter half of the original novel, most of the venom drained out of her and she turned almost cute. Some readers liked the change. Plenty of others mourned the loss of her distinctive edge. If I had to choose, I found the venomous Mo Seyeong far more appealing.

We turned around to head back to the sect. We had come a long way into the deep mountains, but we had marked the trees at regular intervals so we could find the path home. The short one stared into the woods with a look of bitter resentment.

"How far did we even come? Feels like we've walked more than twenty kilometers…"

"We busted our asses for nothing, and we're still gonna get our heads caved in when we get back. Son of a bitch."

Hauling heavy tools up a brutal mountain was exhausting work. To go through all that and come away with nothing — of course they were complaining. Neither of them would say it out loud, but I was certain both were cursing Mo Seyeong in their heads.

We were getting ready to leave when a sudden prickling ran across my skin.

What is that?

It was no trick of the mind. Goosebumps rose along my arms, and a chill slid down my spine. Fear, that old instinct, was stretching itself awake.

I snapped my head around, scanning the trees. The two beside me hadn't felt a thing; they just stared at me, baffled.

"Jongchil, what the hell are you doing? Gotta take a dump?"

"No. I've just got this… creepy feeling."

"Grrrrrrngh…!"

The words had barely left my mouth when the sound of a massive beast grinding its teeth rolled through the forest. The two of them went white, clutched each other, and screamed.

"A— a beast!"

I turned toward the source of the sound. Even at a distance, the creature was unmistakable: a tiger with fur of pure, blazing white, staring us down. It was hard to be sure from this far, but it looked nearly two or three meters long.

"The White Tiger! Mount Wudang's White Tiger! Oh god, we're dead!"

The burly one wailed in despair. The White Tiger moved with liquid grace and was in front of us in an instant, taking the rough mountain path as if it were strolling through its own front yard. A predator born and raised on this mountain — of course it was.

A spiritual beast. Same as in any martial arts novel ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠— and in Supreme Sword Heavenly Immortal too — a spiritual beast is in a completely different league from an ordinary predator.

A spiritual beast was a named monster. Its combat power dwarfed that of any common beast, but the rewards matched the danger. The remains of a spiritual beast were prized as spiritual elixirs; swallow even a piece of one and the surge in inner energy was staggering.

"Run! Aaaaagh!"

The short one flung down every tool he was carrying and bolted for his life. An incredibly stupid decision. Beast or man, you always went after the one who turned his back first.

Worse, this mountain was the White Tiger's home. Judging by the speed it had just shown, no ordinary person was outrunning it.

Sure enough, the White Tiger launched itself after the fleeing man. A terrifying aura poured off the beast as it closed the distance at something like sports-car speed, and it tore out his throat in a single bite.

"Ghk! Ghk!"

He didn't even make it thirty meters. The body, its neck ripped open, collapsed in a limp heap.

"Aaaaaaagh!"

The burly one, watching it happen in real time, fainted on the spot. A far more faint-hearted bastard than he looked.

"Grrrrrrngh…!"

The White Tiger turned its gaze on me, the last one still standing. I had no idea exactly how strong it was, but I couldn't afford to be careless.

I had a range of skills at my disposal, but the curse of a thirty-percent Synchronization Rate meant I couldn't bring my full power to bear. On top of that, the way this tiger fought made it look like a speed-type. That meant I had to be even more precise with my skills. A single missed shot could mean the difference between life and death.

I kept my nerves tight and stretched a hand toward it. The White Tiger seemed to sense I was preparing something, and it didn't attack immediately. I could feel the hard certainty in it — that whatever I threw, it would simply dodge with that speed of its.

Do I strike first? Or wait until it charges?

A dozen thoughts flashed through my head.

"Grrrngh!"

The tiger seemed to be thinking the same thing. It made threatening noises and nothing more, refusing to commit its body. The empty standoff dragged on for several minutes. In the end, it was the beast that chose first.

"Grrrrrrngh!"

Its body shot forward like a meteor. At my current stats, it was a speed I could barely react to. I had Darkness Arrow ready, but I could already see it in my mind's eye: the White Tiger tearing out my throat before the arrow even left my hand.

Damn—too fast! Time Accelera—

THOOM!

"Mrowww!"

In that instant, something unbelievable happened. A tremendous crash erupted in front of me, and with a sound like a cat's yelp of pain, the White Tiger's body went flying into the distance. And standing before me, utterly composed, was a person. All of it had unfolded in a sliver of time I could not even react to.

What?

Sudden as it was, my mind raced. The person who had appeared in front of me had just saved my life. If they hadn't put the White Tiger down, I might have ended up like the one who ran first, my throat punched clean through. Of course, the odds were better that I would have slipped the attack with Time Acceleration — but still.

I checked the White Tiger first. Dropped by a single blow, it lay on its back staring at the sky. Its forelegs and hind legs twitched as if in spasm, but it couldn't move. It looked to have taken a devastating hit and lost consciousness.

"Are you all right?"

A woman's voice. Only after confirming the tiger did I look at the person standing in front of me.

She was a woman with hair black as ink, looking to be in her mid-twenties. She wore what appeared to be luxurious silk robes and a pair of pretty embroidered shoes — a refined young lady, except that the outfit had no business in a mountain this wild. It belonged in the palatial home of some high lord, not in these deep woods where you might expect a ginseng digger or a hidden recluse.

That mask sitting askew on her head… is she someone from the original?

A Rakshasa mask hung from the top of her head. A frightening thing, set against those demure and beautiful clothes. It was a mask that announced this beauty had a highly unusual sense of fashion — and an equally unusual mind. Someone this distinctive was bound to have been mentioned in the original at least once.

"What business brings you to a mountain valley this deep? From the look of you, you came to cut timber — but to come this far? Don't tell me you were after Black Iron Wood."

"Ah… yes, my lady. The Head Disciple ordered us to harvest Black Iron Wood, which is why we came this far."

At the mention of the Head Disciple, she covered her mouth and laughed softly.

"The Head Disciple — then you must be a servant of Fairy Gate."

"That is correct. If… if it would not be too presumptuous, might this humble one ask for his savior's honored name?"

I asked as respectfully as I could. She was a figure I almost recognized. She had definitely appeared in the original.

The Rakshasa Demoness, Dan Yuha!

She was one of the original's characters after all. Thinking about it, the only person who went around wearing a Rakshasa mask as an accessory was Dan Yuha.

"Then you are Dan Yuha, one of the Five Heads of the Unorthodox Faction? It is an honor to meet you!"

"My. For a child of the Orthodox faction, you have rather fine manners."

Rakshasa. Demoness. Two ugly words in a single title, and the beauty who wore them was famous as an object of terror among the Orthodox. It was the Orthodox, after all, who had given her the name — though the Rakshasa mask on her head had something to do with it as well.

For all that fearsome title, Dan Yuha was not as wicked as people imagined. Among the Unorthodox, she was one of the few genuine sane ones — no, looking at Supreme Sword Heavenly Immortal as a whole, she ranked as fairly normal.

The reason the Orthodox called her the Rakshasa Demoness was that she had once attacked the Medicine Sect, one of their own. There were circumstances behind that, too.

In any case, running into Dan Yuha — an original character, and a beauty — was unmistakably a stroke of luck.

I started turning over in my mind how I might get this woman into bed.

"Mount Wudang is a famed mountain among famed mountains, and spiritual beasts such as this are plentiful here. Of course, it is exceedingly rare for an ordinary person to encounter one — but there is nothing to be gained by coming this deep. The hour grows late. You had best be on your way."

So saying, Dan Yuha walked over to the fallen White Tiger. A spiritual beast's liver and heart were among the elixirs martial artists would kill for. With that small frame of hers, she slung the tiger over her shoulder as if it weighed nothing. The motion was so clean and perfect I almost wondered if the White Tiger was a doll stuffed with cotton.

She had told me to go back, but leaving now would be far too much of a waste. If I parted from her here, there was no telling when I would see her again. Any woman I can take, I take. That is my creed.

"M-m-my lady! Thank you for saving my life! I wish to repay this debt of gratitude — is there anything this humble one might do to help!?"

I bowed my head flat before her and called out. Dan Yuha looked down at me with an expression of amusement. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Repaying a debt ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of gratitude to a master of her caliber was, even I had to admit, impossible — but I had to find some way to stick close.

Fortunately, a method for winning her over had already taken shape in my head. For someone who knew the original inside and out, coming up with a suitable approach was no great difficulty.

"Heh. What an amusing child you are. Very well — I do like a person who knows his manners. If you wish to repay me… yes. Would you help me carry this White Tiger? Hauling a thing like this is rather difficult for a woman, you see."

The White Tiger she had been holding as lightly as cotton until a moment ago hit the ground with a thud. I lifted the massive beast. Fortunately, my strength was well beyond an ordinary man's, and I managed it without much trouble.

"My. You're quite strong. How reliable."

She said it as if she were teasing me. And so I carried the White Tiger, and followed her all the way to her home.