Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Demonic Cultist's Prophecy
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Jeom Baek-i stood there awkwardly, frozen in place like a man caught pissing in someone else's yard, neither advancing nor retreating.
A moment later, a monk emerged from the stairs leading to the cabin, his shoulders slumped.
"How did it go?"
The Righteous woman asked.
"Not even a slingshot, let alone a blade."
Only then did Jeom Baek-i let out a sigh of relief.
Everyone's eyes—Righteous and Demonic alike—now turned to Heuk Do-san.
Among the seven survivors, he was the last to regain his senses, yet the only one who had seized a weapon.
Moreover, though it seemed like a blatant lie, his claim of amnesia had kept him one step removed from the tense standoff on the razor's edge.
No matter how they looked at it, he wasn't an ordinary man.
But he acted as if the brewing fight on deck had nothing to do with him. With one hand, he pulled out a gourd and took a swig, while with the other, he drew a spyglass to his eye and scanned the sea.
Jeom Baek-i was seized by an intense desire to snatch the axe at that strange man's waist.
'If I had that axe, I could take over the whole ship. Bash the back of his head with my right hand, yank the axe with my left, and toss him into the sea...'
Just then, the monk subtly spread his stance. He couldn't just stand by and watch their only weapon fall into enemy hands.
'Not a chance in hell, you damned monk!'
'Damn that quick-witted bald bastard.'
Catching the monk's warning glare, Jeom Baek-i gave up. If he'd known, he would've mustered the strength to take him down even with just the dagger.
Meanwhile, having scanned the right side of the sea, Heuk Do-san sauntered across the deck to check the left, still sipping from his gourd with one hand.
Unable to contain his curiosity, Jeom Baek-i asked.
"What do you see?"
"Nothing."
"I've heard a spyglass can spot things a hundred li away, but you're saying nothing?"
"You know nothing about the sea."
"What?"
"Your field of vision from the surface is limited. The horizon looks endlessly far, but it's really just five li. Those red-haired ghosts say it's because the world we live on is round."
"Those ignorant red-haired bastards."
"I think so too. It's nonsense. But the horizon is definitely five li out. For every half zhang you climb, it extends another ten li. Since we're on deck, fifteen li is the best we can see. To spot farther, you'd have to climb the mast."
That mast now lay broken at its base, propped against the railings on both sides of the deck.
Jeom Baek-i asked again.
"According to you, fifteen li is close enough to spot with the naked eye. So why peer through the spyglass? Just because you have it?"
What an idiot. Did he think he used it just because it was there?
Heuk Do-san felt a flicker of annoyance at having to explain even this.
But he held his tongue. Generosity comes from abundance—those with more could afford to be patient.
"If you're looking for ships or land, the naked eye would do. But for smaller things bobbing on the waves, nothing but the spyglass works."
"So what are you looking for?"
"Wreckage from the ships."
"Ah...!"
A low murmur of realization rippled through the group.
The battle last night had mobilized hundreds of ships from both Righteous and Demonic forces combined. Given the fierce fighting and the meteor shower like bolts of lightning, the surrounding sea should now be littered with debris.
At least to the naked eye, it looked clean.
If the spyglass spotted wreckage from other ships, it meant they hadn't strayed far from the Shandong Peninsula.
After that, they just needed to uncover the cause of this bizarre weather.
Jeom Baek-i eyed Heuk Do-san.
"See any deck fragments?"
"You got tar in your ears? I said nothing!"
Jeom Baek-i shrank like a turtle at Heuk Do-san's outburst.
'Ugh. I'll rip that bastard's mouth off someday.'
As the sun set, the cold intensified.
The biting wind from earlier was nothing compared to this brutal chill. The temperature plummeted, and by deep night, ice crystals hung from their nose hairs.
It's said that martial artists who cultivate inner power are unaffected by heat or cold—immune to the whims of weather. But that applied only to first-rate masters with at least a year's worth of cultivation.
Even they would struggle in this extreme cold.
The weaker ones had no chance.
As the chill deepened, differences in martial prowess became starkly apparent. The first to show it was the Demonic Cult woman.
Unlike the other battered Cultists, her clothes were relatively intact, but even huddled tight, she trembled like an aspen leaf.
As night wore on, her teeth chattered nonstop amid fits of coughing.
"Cough, cough..."
As she drew eyes, Heuk Do-san noticed something.
Jeom Baek-i, presumed the strongest among the Cultists, stood guard before her.
To her right sat the hunchback, to her left the bald man with the snake tattoo.
In short, three Cultists were protecting this one woman. She clearly had extraordinary status.
'The Cult Leader's concubine or something?'
Their eyes met. An indecipherable glint flickered in her quivering pupils.
That's fear. Not just of the cold, but of some unknown threat.
'Wait, how do I know that?'
Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice echoed in his mind.
[Tonight... someone dies.]
Sound Transmission into Ear.
Commonly called voice transmission, a technique martial artists used to speak privately to a chosen target.
But it required at least a year's inner power. She didn't seem that skilled—how was this possible?
Nice voice, though.
Heuk Do-san asked with his expression.
'How do you know?'
[Only you can stop it.]
He'd asked how she knew, and she spouted nonsense?
Just then, Jeom Baek-i told her.
"Press your heart against my back."
"I'm fine."
"This isn't the time to play hard to get."
"It's not that..."
"If you want to live, do as I say."
Unable to refuse further, she clung tightly to Jeom Baek-i from behind.
Even for Demonic Cultists, a woman embracing a man from behind in front of everyone was an outrageous breach of decorum.
But no one batted an eye. Survival trumped all now.
The midnight chill in the open sea was that merciless.
In contrast, the Righteous monk and woman showed no disarray.
They pulled their collars tight and hunched their necks like turtles to trap body heat, yet their eyes blazed fiercely at the Cultists.
The woman especially—eyes narrowed to slits, glaring as if she'd hack them apart if given a blade.
'Ugly hag.'
While others battled the cold, Heuk Do-san scanned the night sky whenever he could.
To gauge their location and drift by constellations invisible during the day.
Sailors on long voyages navigate by the stars. The Big Dipper's seven stars in the northern sky are visible everywhere, earning them the name guiding stars.
Yet for some reason, the Big Dipper was nowhere in sight. Not even the moon.
"Damn it all."
"Amitabha, what do you see...?"
The monk couldn't hold back.
"Clouds."
Heuk Do-san replied indifferently.
"Sleep while you can. Looks like we'll need our strength around midnight."
"What... do you mean?"
"A typhoon's coming."
Faces paled across the board.
The current freeze chilled them to the bone—now a typhoon?
No, that wasn't the issue. The ship was already half-wrecked and precarious; a storm would doom them.
Whatever, Heuk Do-san eyed the scattered sail scraps on deck. "Perfect for a blanket," he muttered, then hacked the connecting ropes with his axe.
He spread it out in the midst of the standoff between Righteous and Demonic, lay on the edge,
and rolled back and forth three or four times, wrapping himself like a silkworm in seconds.
From within, he murmured calmly.
"Sails are best in yellow cloth, after all."
The others were aghast.
What kind of lunatic was this? What if someone tried to kill him and steal the sword and axe?
But Heuk Do-san wasn't worried.
If anyone attacked him, the others would counter to prevent the weapons falling to the enemy.
Then he'd just tear through the sail and lop off their wrists.
Knowing that, no one would strike rashly.
In essence, his spot was the eye of the storm—a calm center.
Still uneasy, he tossed out a warning.
"Move carefully, all of you. Things are tense, so if a fight breaks out, I'll go for the kill. Kill—great word, huh."
* * *
Rumble! Crash!
Whoooosh! Slam! Splash! Slam!
Boom-boom-boom! Crack! Thud!
Thunder roared, lightning struck. Mountainous waves crashed over the brigantine from the sea.
The ship bucked wildly. Broken and splintered, it screamed nonstop.
Before nature's fury, man was utterly powerless. Yet man fought on, driven by the primal urge to survive pulsing in his blood.
"Pull right!"
Heuk Do-san bellowed.
The brigantine originally had one main sail and two auxiliaries.
The aft auxiliary had shredded under a meteor that night amid the Great Righteous-Demonic War. The central main sail snapped at the base the next morning.
Now, five clung to the last remaining fore auxiliary, wrestling it for half a shichen.
Six ropes tethered the auxiliary; the monk held two, the Righteous woman one.
The hunchback, bald snake-tattoo thug, and woman each gripped one from the Cult side.
"Pull left!"
Heuk Do-san stood at the railing facing the storm, eyeing the waves while barking nonstop orders.
With the rudder gone, this fore sail was their only control.
Harness the wind like water, steer with the sail.
Half a shichen ago, they'd felt its power.
Just one daekyo prior, even as Heuk Do-san yelled to pull, the fools stayed locked in standoff.
"You all wanna die?"
"How do we know that mongrel won't ambush us from behind?"
"That's exactly my point, you bald rat."
"I hear mongrels mix men and women for filthy fun without shame. Vile beasts."
"Jealous?"
"Tsk tsk tsk. Evil beside thunder. Afraid of lightning striking me near this scum. Heavens, not me—the mongrel. Aim true. Namu Amitabha, Kwanseum Bosal."
"Kwanseum Bosal my ass. No matter how much you chant up Buddha's asshole, it'll fall on deaf ears. Before that, the Demon God's wrath will thunder down on your skull."
"Thunder or lightning, you ignorant mongrel. Can you even read? Dumb fuck, retard, thick-skulled bastard."
"Shut up!"
"Both of you shut up!"
The final thunderous roar came from Heuk Do-san.
At that instant, thunder crashed, and a massive wave slammed the ship.
The bow reared up as if to flip. No time to react, everyone tumbled aft in a heap.
"Oof!"
"Eek!"
The bow slammed down, spraying water, and now the stern lifted.
They rolled forward again, tangled like dog chow.
Desperate not to wash away, they grabbed whatever— the fore auxiliary's ropes.
That's when Heuk Do-san's real commands began, and they followed in a daze. Anything to stay aboard.
"Pull left!"
"I'm pulling now!"
The Righteous woman yelled.
"Not hard enough! The ship's listing!"
"What do you want with an unbudging rope!"
"Pull anyway! Pull or die!"
"Amitabha, why not lower the sail?"
The monk suggested.
Has the bald idiot lost it?
"Shut your trap!"
No sail meant helpless to the waves. A side wave tilts the ship; another at right angles capsizes it. The dreaded triangular wave.
Time the hits, twist against the wind to compensate.
One miscalculation, and they sink.
No time to explain to these landlubber idiots.
"One more on the left!"
Left had three ropes: monk and Righteous woman.
Adding one meant sending a Cultist over.
Even amid sail control, foes remained divided, wary of ambushes.
Walk unarmed into enemy lines? Absurd.
"Jeom Baek-i, you go!"
"Don't order me around!"
"Then die."
"Experience says in a gale, grab something and wait it out. Best not to flail and get swept away. I've seen more than a couple idiots drown that way. You should quit yapping from that dangerous spot and grab hold here."
"The meteor shower should've blasted that bastard's head first."
Heuk Do-san's words grew harsher than usual, but no one challenged him. Adrenaline surged from raging sea, fear of death, deafening thunder.
Then a huge wave rolled in from the left.
Heuk Do-san roared.
"All to the right!"
To the right meant Righteous monk and woman into Cult lines. They wouldn't budge willingly.
"Master, what now?"
The Righteous woman asked urgently.
"However urgent, mingle with mongrels? Never."
"What if the ship sinks?"
"It won't."
"You have some assurance?"
"Namu Amitabha Kwanseum Bosal."
His faith was in Buddha.
The Righteous woman's face twisted in fury.
"Fine, let's all die. Die!"
Heuk Do-san spat.
Then a colossal wave broadsided them. The ship lurched violently rightward. Against his will, the monk slid across the deck on the surge.
"Whoaaa!"
"Eeeeek!"
To avoid plunging into the sea, they lunged for ropes—Cult side ones. Righteous and Demonic mingled despite themselves.
The sail caught wind, bow first; the ship righted itself, barely averting capsize.
Waves kept pounding. Heuk Do-san's orders relentless.
"Pull right!"
"Pull left!"
"Right!"
"Left!"
"Left!"
"Pull left, you fucking moron!"