The First Guest

Dan Yuha strode the harsh, rugged mountain path without the slightest hesitation, as if proving to the world that she was a martial artist of the highest caliber. Watching her, you would have sworn she was walking a well-paved road.

Even for me — with strength far beyond an ordinary human — traversing the treacherous paths of Mount Wudang was no easy feat. And the massive White Tiger carcass slung across my back only crushed me further with every labored step.

I threw every ounce of strength I had into keeping up with her. It felt, somehow, like a test she was putting me through.

We'd been walking for perhaps ten minutes when a small cottage came into view in the distance. A modest, snug little dwelling that suited the deep mountain valley perfectly, complete with a small garden and a decent stack of split firewood — more than enough for one person to live in.

"Do come in. You are the first guest ever to set foot in my home. You may consider it an honor."

Dan Yuha's residence never appeared in the original novel. She was mentioned in passing as being from Hubei, but I never imagined she'd settled on Mount Wudang of all places.

Dan Yuha was a great master of the Unorthodox faction, while the Wudang Sect — based on this very mountain — stood as a pillar of the Orthodox. So this was what they meant by the darkest place is under the lamp.

"No one would ever guess I live in a place like this, child. You aren't the type to have a loose tongue, I trust?"

Dan Yuha said this with a gentle smile. It didn't sound like a threat, but a threat it plainly was. A fatally charming one, though — the kind that made you want to keep her secret not out of fear, but simply to preserve that smile. I nodded quickly.

"How could I possibly dare to speak of the Rakshasa Demoness's residence so carelessly?"

"Heh. For the record, I'm not particularly fond of that nickname."

"Ah! Forgive me! Then... may I address you as Hero Dan?"

"Hmm. There's no need for such a stiff title. Just call me by my name."

True to her nature as someone of the Unorthodox path — a woman who valued efficiency — she preferred things direct.

"Then I shall call you Lady Yuha."

"Very well."

She led me inside. We set the White Tiger's carcass down by the cooking implements in the front yard. The house had two kitchens — one indoors, one in the courtyard.

Her home was immaculately tidy. There were few decorations, but most of the household necessities were there. In the living room, four chairs sat around a fairly large table — a layout well suited to receiving multiple guests, though, as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she'd said, I was the first.

"Well? How does my home strike you, seeing it for the first time?"

"It's a... truly splendid home."

I gave her my honest impression. She smiled faintly and headed for the kitchen. The scent of brewing tea drifted out — sweet and mellow. Presently she returned with two cups.

"Job's tears tea. You've done well, carrying that heavy load all this way."

I sat across from her at the table and lifted my cup. The tea itself was ordinary. But she was watching me as if studying a specimen, and I could barely get it down. I stole glances at her face.

Dan Yuha.

She looked, at most, like a woman in her mid-twenties. In truth, she was past forty — well into middle age. And yet her skin, unmarred by a single wrinkle; her teeth, white as snow; her eyes, bright with vitality; and her hair, black as a raven's wing — all of it made that age a complete irrelevance. No one in the world would look at her and see a woman in her forties.

But martial artists, like Hunters, were beings who existed on an entirely different plane from ordinary people. A martial artist of her caliber could never be judged by appearances. The Rakshasa Demoness, Dan Yuha, possessed martial power formidable enough to rank among the Five Heads of the Unorthodox Faction.

For the record, in the world of Supreme Sword Heavenly Immortal, the strong were almost always beautiful. There were exceptions, of course, but that was the general rule. Beauty itself could practically serve as a measure of martial might. By that standard, Dan Yuha was a master beyond any doubt.

"You said you were a servant of the Fairy Gate, did you not?"

Dan Yuha asked the question out of nowhere. I nodded and answered.

"That's right. I serve at the Fairy Gate. Today the Head Disciple ordered me to cut Black Iron Wood, which is how I ended up here."

"Heh. The Head Disciple — that would be the famous Black Sandalwood Thorn Flower, Mo Seyeong. Martial arts as hard as black iron, and a face as beautiful as a flower, or so they say. Though I hear she has thorns to match her place among the Four Flowers of the Martial World."

"That's true. The Head Disciple is strong and beautiful, but she's a terrifying woman. If I fail to bring back the Black Iron Wood, she'll almost certainly beat me."

I wasn't lying. Mo Seyeong was not a woman who hesitated to use ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her fists on a servant. She wouldn't beat an ordinary person to death, of course, but the original novel made it abundantly clear that she habitually assaulted people just to vent her temper. Early on, her nickname was even "Black Sandalwood Beater."

"Heh. Tell me, child. Between that Mo Seyeong and myself — who is more beautiful?"

The question came out of nowhere. With a woman, the answer to this kind of question was almost always predetermined.

"Until today, I believed there was no woman more beautiful than the Head Disciple. But I think I've changed my mind. Lady Yuha, you are without question more beautiful than any woman I've ever seen... more beautiful than every woman of the Fairy Gate."

"Oh-ho? Is that so? Even more than the Fairy Gate's Sect Master?"

I'd never even seen the Sect Master of the Fairy Gate. But what did that matter? Human beings were weak to praise.

Strangely enough, they were weak even to praise that was obviously a lie. Hell, if someone gently sucked my asshole right now, I'd be over the moon.

"Of course. The Sect Master is quite beautiful, but compared to you, Lady Yuha, she's a firefly before the full moon."

"Oh-hoho! What an amusing child you are. Far too blatant — but I don't dislike it."

Looks like I scored some points with her. As expected, you have to know how to run your mouth around women.

Dan Yuha said it had been a long time since she'd spoken with anyone. She seemed to spend her days shut away here, training. She hadn't seen another person in over a month.

This is the period when Dan Yuha goes into closed-door training... I was right. This is when she'd been poisoned.

I knew why Dan Yuha trained alone on a mountain this remote. It was in the original novel. Her body was being consumed by a deadly poison.

If I play this right, I can fuck Dan Yuha.

"It's been so long since I talked with anyone, this has been quite entertaining. You are an amusing child. Today has been most enjoyable."

Dan Yuha said this with a look of satisfaction. It was a smile so precious you'd have to pay a million sacks of rice to purchase it. Dan Yuha was a classic beauty, the kind for whom the word "beautiful" was simply the right word. Hers was a beauty of old-world elegance rather than modern sophistication.

"I'm the one who should be thanking you again for saving my life. If it hadn't been for you, Lady Yuha, the White Tiger would have killed me for certain."

"You were lucky. I happened to be taking a walk in that area myself. We caught a fine Spiritual Beast, so perhaps our fortunes simply overlapped. In any case, the sun is beginning to set. Shouldn't you be heading back?"

She said this while watching the sinking sun. Even if I left now, I'd only reach the sect around the time it fully set.

"You're right. I should be going. Ah — before I do, is there anything else I might help you with? Simply carrying a load doesn't feel like nearly enough to repay you for saving my life."

"Nothing in particular. It was no great trouble for me, so there's no need to take it so to heart."

"I learned various miscellaneous arts from my grandfather. Fortune-telling, examining illnesses and curses — I pride myself on being fairly skilled. Would you perhaps like to know your fortune?"

The moment I said that, something in Dan Yuha's eyes shifted. The languid way she looked at me didn't change, but a denser current of interest had entered it.

"Oh-ho. What interesting little arts you've learned."

She wouldn't be able to ignore the bait I'd just laid. In the original novel, Dan Yuha ran herself ragged trying to treat her poisoned body. It was even how she met the original protagonist, Gong Woosun.

"Very well. Then I should like to see this skill of yours."

She took the bait, just as I'd hoped.

"Would you like me to read your fortune?"

"I don't believe in superstition. However — can you check the state of my health? Shut away ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in these mountains, I rarely have the chance to see a physician. I should like to know how I fare, after all this time."

So saying, she extended her arm. She wanted me to take her pulse.

In the real world, too, people dying of incurable diseases clung to even the pettiest superstitions. It was an inevitable product of the human instinct to value life above all else. Dan Yuha was no exception. Of course, she was probably approaching it with a "can't hurt to try" attitude rather than any real faith in my abilities.

Dan Yuha's arm was small and delicate, like a new shoot just budding in spring. Her skin was as soft as the silk robes she wore, and as white and lovely as snow piled deep on a winter mountain. What's more, a sweet peach fragrance rose from that skin. Why did ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a woman's scent always smell so good?

I checked her pulse, pretending to take it properly. Naturally, I had no idea how to actually read a pulse. She wouldn't know that either, so faking it was enough. What mattered here wasn't medical knowledge — it was acting.

"Hm...? Something feels... off."

I said this with a grave expression. Even I had to admit it was a fantastic performance. And then, suddenly, a new notification window appeared before my eyes.

A Branch Skill had sprouted from Deception. The skill was called Acting, and its effect was simple: it raised my acting ability.

"Something off? What do you feel?"

Dan Yuha asked, looking at me with interest. I pretended to take her pulse more carefully. Perhaps because of the new skill, my expression seemed to form even more perfectly.

"I'll need to examine the pulse more closely. I can't be certain yet, but... this appears to be a powerful poison."

Her expression turned sharp. The fact that Dan Yuha had been poisoned was known to no one except the person who had poisoned her. At least, until now.

For a martial artist, being poisoned was a fatal weakness. Suddenly her aura seemed to coil around me, binding me in place. I'd anticipated this much. I struggled to keep my expression calm.

Dan Yuha's voice had changed as well. Until now it had been gentle and soft, like Seol Hwa-rin's — but now it was hard, overflowing with a chilling cold. A voice that suited her alias: the Rakshasa Demoness.

Goosebumps rose on my skin by instinct, but I held onto my composure as best I could. Fortunately, thanks to the Mental Resistance skill, I had some immunity to most status conditions.