Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: In Search of Our Fortuitous Encounter (3)
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A dozen or so half-rotted corpses were digging the ground at my command, splitting into divisions.
Grraa!!
The corpses in the front row dug eagerly into the soft soil, while those in the back carried away the excavated dirt.
Grraaa!!
The corpses sweated profusely as they dug into the earth.
It was a sight that could give a faint-hearted person a heart attack, but I was leaning back against a nearby tree stump, watching them with a satisfied smile.
In my original world, among modern hunters exhausted from countless dungeon explorations and raids, it had been trendy to zone out staring at fire or water—what they called fire-gazing or water-gazing. Personally, though, I thought zombie-gazing was the best.
Hmm.
But was that unidentified liquid oozing from their skin really sweat...?
Whatever.
As I watched the scene, a thought suddenly flashed through my mind, and my mouth opened on its own.
"It should be about time to see the entrance to Wi Cheol-jin's resting place, right?"
And why not? My information was based on the original novel, so the location couldn't be wrong.
It had been quite a while since the corpses started digging, and a trench deep enough to serve as a trench was forming in one corner of Taeho Slum's dump.
I was thinking it was time to uncover the entrance or ceiling of Wi Cheol-jin's tomb when...
Grraa?! Graaa!!!
Sure enough.
One of the half-rotted corpses digging at the forefront jerked its crooked jaw and made its claim.
"What? Something's caught on your hand?"
Grra!!
I shot to my feet at the declaration and rushed to the front lines of the operation.
"Oh. You got it! Looks like you've found it properly?"
There it was: the distinctive patterned brick I'd read about in the original story and heard from the old woman in the beggar village.
"You even nailed the entrance right away?"
The stones cut into brick shapes formed a pi shape, with only the center filled with dirt and debris.
Long ago, the stone slab blocking the entrance had crumbled away, and over time, the soil had filled the gap, leaving it like that—just as described in the original.
"...But this ancient tomb looks pretty shoddy at the entrance. It won't collapse, will it?"
Someone might wonder why call a tomb less than a century old an ancient barrow.
Though known in the story as Wi Cheol-jin's tomb, the barrow itself dated back much further, to the era when the Central Plains were divided into Southern and Northern Dynasties.
It was the tomb of some imperial prince from those distant times.
Young Wi Cheol-jin and his lame mendicant monk master had made their home there.
After the Kunlun Debate Sword incident, where he suffered mutual destruction against the coalition of the era's top righteous faction masters hailed as the heavens of the righteous path, Wi Cheol-jin sensed his end approaching and returned alone to breathe his last.
Whatever.
We'd found it properly, at least.
All that remained was to clear the dirt in front of us and confront Wi Cheol-jin's remains and legacy in the deep chamber.
"The scent of elixirs. That's the scent."
No wonder Chun-aeng found the air here stifling—she couldn't smell this.
I grinned and returned to the tree stump, leaning back once more.
"Alright, alright. I know the inside is sturdy, but the entrance looks shaky. From now on, front row, dig carefully. Back row, gather some stones nearby. We'll reinforce it with a retaining wall."
I clapped my hands to spur the corpses on.
Reinforcing the sides of the discovered entrance with stones and mud the corpses gathered took about an hour here—half a shichen.
Once we cleared all the dirt blocking the entrance...
A fairly wide passage emerged, big enough for three people to walk side by side.
"Well then, shall we go in?"
Whistling a tune, I led the corpses into the passage.
Ooooh~ I've heard the rumors~
That there's honey deep inside this barrow~
But before my tune finished even one verse, a clank echoed from the side of the passage.
Rusted iron bars jutted out jaggedly.
Thuk!
Thuk!
The trap typical of imperial or royal tombs had activated.
...Oof. Even grazing that is lethal—tetanus for sure.
In the original, protagonists Jeong Hyeon and Eon Yong-myeong blundered into the tomb, got spooked, and recalled their Righteous Martial Academy trap-disarming lessons to proceed carefully into the chamber.
Having yet to set foot in the Righteous Martial Academy, I lacked their ability to analyze trap mechanisms from tomb layout and stone finishes.
But it didn't matter.
Krrk?!
The one impaled was a leading corpse, not me.
Of course, my current method of commanding them differed from my past life, where overwhelming dark charisma from the Dark Wheel turned undead into perfect slaves. Here, I coaxed nearby spirits wandering the Yellow Springs with promises of resolving their grudges.
Krrk!!
Krrkkk!!!!
"What? You're scared it'll hurt?"
The corpses, mostly recently deceased, grumbled a bit.
"Good grief. Never thought I'd hear undead whining about pain! That's just your imagination! See that gentleman skewered on the spear?"
Kwoe?
"Doesn't hurt, right?"
...Krrk. Krrkk.
"See? No pain. You were just startled."
Krrkk krrk!!
Krrk krrk!
"Still scary is scary? Promise broken? Crooked jaws and holey mouths sure love to argue!"
What would people say if they knew the Necromancer King, the One-Man Army, was haggling like a salary negotiation with these rotting underground folks?
'What, the Necromancer King catering to corpses?'
But this was the best for now.
Making them perfectly obedient slaves was easy.
But that would drain my meager inner force fast.
Black magic efficiency was poor here, and my body's inner force was nothing special. With unknowns ahead, I couldn't waste it.
There's an easy way to quiet their complaints, though.
There's an old Korean saying that starvation ghosts have sallow complexions, and every spirit I'd summoned looked gaunt.
'Starved and ragged souls.'
So what they wanted was simple.
'What they'd never had: food and clothes.
My pack was full of silver, and the fortunes inside would be priceless, so a little extra spending was fine.
"To the ancestral offerings I promised, I'll add sweets and beef, and upgrade the plain cloth to silk for burning."
Krrkk krrk krrkk?
"...What? Use it up, so give more? You lot get spoiled and greedy! Fine, forget it! No more from me! Take it or leave it! You think you're the only spirits in the Yellow Springs?!"
The negotiation ended there.
After pondering their situation and my offer, the corpses silently led the way into the brick-lined cave as if no complaints had been made.
By simply following behind, I toured the barrow's traps without harm.
Shing! Shing!
Shing!!
Krrk!!
"Poison needles?"
What poison melts skin like that?
No expiration date? Given the age, the potency should've faded long ago!
Whoosh!!
Whoooosh!!!
Krrreeek!!!
"Oh, flame jets too?"
Everything but the kitchen sink.
"Beats any theme park."
How long had it been since the dwindling corpses, muttering prayers to Guanyin and the Supreme Elder Lord according to their faiths, navigated the long cave?
The passage ended, opening into a vast stone chamber.
Faded Four Guardian Gods adorned the walls, and in the center sat Wi Cheol-jin—skeleton erect in lotus position even in death.
"Found you."
In the original, a formation activated the moment protagonists Jeong Hyeon and Eon Yong-myeong reached this chamber.
If the front traps were standard for an imperial tomb,
This formation was Wi Cheol-jin's handiwork.
A vicious one.
It delved into the intruder's memories, conjuring endless illusions of their most painful ones, forcing choices at every turn.
For Eon Yong-myeong, it was killing his brother Eon Yong-un—with me, at this point.
Jeong Hyeon saw allies corrupted into demons he had to slay.
Breaking it was simple: steel your mind, slash the illusions relentlessly until it shattered.
But the mind is hard to control.
Thus, Eon Yong-myeong—Fist of Affection for a reason—recognized the illusion but wavered, trapped within.
But protagonist Jeong Hyeon, who could defy even his sect's ancestors if wrong, smashed it and contacted Wi Cheol-jin's lingering intent.
And achieved a breakthrough in martial arts.
Something like,
'Your descendants irk me as hypocrites, but you share my convictions, so I'll teach you a move.'
Whatever.
Such a formation existed here.
But unlike the characters, I wasn't immediately sucked into its illusions.
"Of course not."
What is a grand formation?
It interferes with mind and senses to induce hallucinations.
But my soul bore immunity to mental attacks.
Thus, I didn't get pulled in—instead, I saw the door to enter it.
So I had options.
If mere looting was the goal, grab this Great Demon Reversion Pill and leave.
Hunter experience said entering/exiting a visible gate would be easy.
But Wi Cheol-jin's lingering will was the wildcard.
Might enter fine but get stuck on exit.
I had no such plans.
From the original, his personality oddly matched mine.
I could guess his final wish and the words to hook him.
One Great Demon Reversion Pill—origin of Demonic Cult elixirs—won't satisfy for all this legwork.
If it did, I wouldn't have come.
Of course, calling it "mere" understated it; it rivaled Shaolin's Great Reversion Pill, Wudang's Supreme Purity Pill, Huashan's Purple Core Pill.
But as a possessor, I had other ways to get elixirs, and to me now, they were shiny paperweights.
What to do with just one pill?
I knew no martial arts.
Couldn't even fully melt it with inner force yet.
So I flung open the formation's door myself.
To take the Sword Demon—who terrified the world with one blade—as my master.
"Sword Demon teacher! You there?! Let's make a deal!!!!"
To claim all of Wi Cheol-jin's martial arts.