Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: Resuming the Journey
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After crossing the river, Heuk Do-san found himself with a bit more leeway.
Seop Dae-gang's group had now swelled to twelve members. With only one boat to share among them, ferrying everyone across would take quite some time—there was no need to rush.
But Bing-seol's face remained tense. Her words had grown sparse, and she occasionally wore a dazed expression. Then, out of the blue, she posed a question that came from nowhere.
"May I ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"Why did you leave them?"
"I told you. I prefer being on my own."
"I'm a divine maiden."
"I recall you saying you can't see into people's hearts."
"I can tell if someone's lying or telling the truth. And sometimes, I even get glimpses deeper than that."
"Why do you think I'm lying?"
"It just feels that way. But I'm certain."
"You're right that there's more to it than that. But preferring solitude is the truth."
"It's because of people, isn't it?"
"Is that one of your supernatural gifts?"
"It's observation. Watch someone long enough, and you see things words can't explain. A kind of intuition."
"You're a scary woman."
"Who is it? Mo Yong-ak? Seop Dae-gang? Or both? I heard you three studied under the same master as fellow disciples. Did something happen?"
"Human relationships have aspects similar to war. You start as friends, but once personal interests clash, it turns ruthless, cruel, and complicated in an instant."
"And unpredictable."
"......?"
"Who could've foreseen that Master Hyeon-gak would spare me and the Seventh Star Lord, or that you and I would end up fleeing in the dead of night?"
"True enough."
"How strong are you, Young Master Heuk?"
"What's that out of nowhere?"
"In my eyes, Master Hyeon-gak and the Seventh Star Lord are evenly matched—like a dragon and tiger locked in combat. It'd depend on how they fight, but if each used their favored weapon, it'd be hard to call a winner."
"You can judge that too?"
"They say even a dog from a private school recites poetry after three years. I've lived among all sorts of bizarre masters in the Heavenly Demon Palace. I may not fight with hands or feet, but my eyes are those of an expert."
"Not bad."
"But you, Young Master Heuk... I can't quite pin you down. Sometimes you seem like a terrifying master who could topple the likes of Master Hyeon-gak or the Seventh Star Lord in a single breath. Other times, it feels like your reputation's inflated by your clever mind."
"I've heard I'm pretty smart."
"Who would win between you and Seop Dae-gang? He'd be too much, right? He's a true master renowned across the martial world."
"Why does that even matter to you?"
"Teach me martial arts."
"......?"
"You won't?"
"Why do you want to learn martial arts?"
"Can't you just teach me without asking questions? I'll give you anything you want. Even if it's me."
Heuk Do-san halted in his tracks. He slowly turned to look at Bing-seol.
Unable to meet his gaze head-on, she quietly bowed her head.
"You want revenge on Seop Dae-gang?"
"Yes."
"You think Gong Cheon-ak is dead."
"I'm not a fool."
"The Central Plains martial world is teeming with prodigies called martial talents. Among them, only the true monsters who hear one thing and know ten can become direct disciples of Mount Hua. Seop Dae-gang is the finest of those monsters. A dull talent like you couldn't touch his toe in a hundred years of training."
"Killing someone doesn't always require a sword. Just teach me one lethal killing move. I'll handle the rest."
"You'd go down with him?"
"You might not know, but while crossing the sea, the Seventh Star Lord refused to abandon me even when death loomed. Yet here I am, fleeing and leaving him behind to save my own skin. Someday, I want to avenge him."
"You really sound like a martial artist at times like this."
"Will you teach me? I said anything you want..."
"If it were a freebie, maybe. But I don't teach martial arts for nothing. If you want to learn that badly, bring money. I prefer cash."
"What money do I have right now?"
"That's not my problem."
"Do you have to be so sarcastic?"
"Why bring up pointless nonsense? You can't even look me in the eye."
"......"
"And honestly, it pisses me off. You think I'd just pounce if you offered your body? Why do all the men in women's heads act like that?"
"Am I not pretty?"
"That's not the point!"
Unable to hold back, Heuk Do-san bellowed. Bing-seol, already on edge, flinched in surprise.
Heuk Do-san was genuinely furious. Part of him wanted to ditch her and go alone.
But seeing her shrink back stirred an unexpected pity in him.
"Whether you get revenge or not, judge the situation first."
"......?"
Heuk Do-san turned and resumed walking. After some time, the ground dropped away into a cliff. Below, clear river waters swirled and flowed.
"Another river."
"It's the same one from before."
"What?"
Bing-seol hurriedly scanned their surroundings. The position was slightly off, but the grassy riverbank and the distant grove of white sandalwood trees looked familiar.
"How?"
"This morning, I spotted a cliff farther upstream. That's where we headed."
"Aren't we going to the snow mountains?"
"That was the plan. But some woman traveling with me kept fretting over the man she left behind, and it was getting annoying."
Heuk Do-san pulled a pair of binoculars from his bosom and handed them to Bing-seol.
"See for yourself. About three miles downstream. At this distance, you won't make out faces, but you should see rough shapes."
Bing-seol quickly pressed the binoculars to her eyes and peered where he indicated. Sure enough, people were visible down there.
Someone waded into the shallows, tied a rope, and pulled a boat over. Two people boarded and crossed. Three others were already on the far side.
"My goodness."
"Well?"
"People are crossing on a boat. I see two women. Looks like Lady Dang Yak-ran and Mo Yong-ak."
The moment Dang Yak-ran's name slipped out, Heuk Do-san felt a pang in his chest.
"Ah, that's..."
"What is it?"
"Yeom Jin-sang is carrying a stretcher."
"Who do you think it is?"
"Who else? The Seventh Star Lord."
Tears welled in Bing-seol's eyes.
"He survived somehow."
"Of course. Last night, I divined it—the Seventh Star Lord hasn't met his end yet. But strangely, I couldn't see his future. I thought it was because of that variable, Seop Dae-gang. Who knew Master Hyeon-gak's scheme would actually work..."
"You were insisting you weren't a fool just moments ago. Sure about this supernatural power?"
"I'm a divine maiden, not a god."
"Excuses."
Seop Dae-gang was a man of great ambition. To him, the Righteous-Demonic Great War was merely a tool to make his name echo into the distant future.
He wouldn't abandon the path back to the Central Plains. As long as there was the slightest chance, he'd keep Gong Cheon-ak alive.
"Let's go."
* * *
Hyeon-gak and Dang Yak-ran had joined Seop Dae-gang's group anew and begun their journey.
The Snowy Mountains seemed close enough to touch. But in reality, they showed no sign of drawing nearer no matter how far they traveled.
They passed through forests, forded streams, and climbed hills. As time wore on, the surroundings gradually shifted.
The white sandalwood groves thinned out, and waist-high unnamed shrubs began sprouting here and there.
Whether intentionally or indifferently, Heuk Do-san left no effort to erase the traces of his stay with Bing-seol.
Oddly, this proved helpful. Following his footprints avoided cliffs, and camping where he'd lit a fire offered shelter from the wind.
That wasn't all. Whenever thirst struck, Hyeon-gak and Dang Yak-ran tapped white sandalwood trunks with conch shells to drink the sap.
Seop Dae-gang, Mo Yong-ak, and the Ten Spectral Pursuers were stunned at the sight. They apparently hadn't drunk a drop until streams appeared.
Even separated, Heuk Do-san continued influencing the rest. Dang Yak-ran still felt as if traveling alongside him.
To the Ten Spectral Pursuers, however, Heuk Do-san was nothing but a traitor who'd fled after locking eyes with a witch. They poured every effort into catching him.
Yet the distance refused to close. They seemed convinced it was due to the bonfires.
They believed Heuk Do-san spotted their smoke and calculated distances precisely to evade them. True or not, it bruised their pride sorely.
While they, experts in pursuit who knew no failure, struck out repeatedly, Heuk Do-san was practically guiding the way.
The bizarre scenario persisted: pursuers scrambling, escapee scouting ahead and marking paths.
Then disaster struck.
It happened on the fifth night. Hong Gong-tak, seething with frustration, lit a bonfire at dusk and vanished with five of the Ten Spectral Pursuers.
Everyone except Seop Dae-gang and Mo Yong-ak mobilized. They returned the next morning at dawn, pale and haggard.
"Those bastards wander all night and show up now? What's with that state? Did they visit hell or something?"
Hyeon-gak remarked, watching from afar with Dang Yak-ran.
"Did they clash with Young Master Heuk?"
"If there'd been a fight, they'd have come back with one or two dead, not just ragged. Headcount's the same coming and going. No blood trails either."
"Young Master Heuk could've gotten hurt."
"Then they'd return triumphant. If they'd killed him, they'd have brought back his head or ears."
Just then, Seop Dae-gang emerged from the tent made of blood wolf hide. He called Mo Yong-ak to join. With the bonfire between them, the conversation with Hong Gong-tak began.
Dang Yak-ran and Hyeon-gak perked their ears and circulated their inner energy.
"We never even sighted him."
"Then why so late?"
"We spent the night lost in a swampy maze."
"Swamp?"
"Not far off, there's a vast plain riddled with ponds or rivers like a labyrinth. One misstep, and you're sucked under without a trace."
"How'd you escape?"
"At dawn, we saw other footprints clearly imprinted on the ground. Backtracking them exactly got us out."
"Other footprints?"
Mo Yong-ak asked.
"A man and a woman's."
Seop Dae-gang narrowed his eyes.
Heuk Do-san and Bing-seol's.
Hong Gong-tak said he'd backtracked them—meaning following forward would safely cross the swamp.
Heuk Do-san was guiding them again.
How bold. Daring to toy with him and the Ten Spectral Pursuers like this.
'You've grown, Heuk Do-san.'
"Looks like Young Master Heuk's using the witch's powers to mess with us. They say Heavenly Demon Divine Cult witches have supernatural abilities—impressive indeed."
Mo Yong-ak said.
"It's not the witch."
"Pardon?"
"Remember the first day? They left a boat at the riverbank. Twisted white sandalwood bark for rope, hung it from a stolen spear tip, tossed it our way so we could pull the boat over."
"......?"
"This isn't supernatural. It's survival skills from veteran mercenaries who've fought a hundred battles."
"Veteran mercenaries' survival skills?"
"There are those who make war their livelihood. Untrained in formal martial arts, yet they survive battle after battle. Passed down mouth-to-mouth across generations, those experiences accumulate into a vast body of knowledge."
"But that's just scattered lore among mercenaries—not concentrated in one person."
"Long ago, there was a school that compiled and studied such knowledge."
"Who?"
"The Mohists."
In the Warring States era, when dynasties vied for supremacy, there was a pragmatic, radical philosophical school. Masters of strategy and siege warfare, they astounded with ingenious war machines.
But after Qin Shi Huang's suppression, they declined, and by Emperor Wu, the Confucian monopoly policy severed their line.
"You're not saying mercenaries are Mohist descendants?"
"I'm saying accumulated knowledge in a field over ages becomes its own discipline. Heuk Do-san mastered it."
Mo Yong-ak admired Seop Dae-gang's insight and perception. No wonder he was hailed a hero of the Northern Martial World at such a young age, entrusted with key Righteous Alliance duties.
Thinking of him a decade hence was almost frightening. By comparison, Heuk Do-san's achievements were paltry.
From failed scholar to battlefield mercenary, now a runaway Demonic Cult traitor—that was Heuk Do-san now.
'Disappointing.'
"This is the fifth failure."
Seop Dae-gang said.
His tone indifferent, as always.
But Hong Gong-tak felt his hair stand on end. He and the rest of the Ten Spectral Pursuers dropped to their knees.
"Any punishment, we accept gladly."
"It's wartime now. Accountability later. Fill your bellies and prepare to depart first."
Seop Dae-gang turned to Mo Yong-ak.
"Lady Ak, come with me."
Seop Dae-gang and Mo Yong-ak entered the tent. The Ten Spectral Pursuers tore ravenously into the roasting meat over the fire.
"So that's what happened."
Hyeon-gak said.
"Wandering swamps all night without sleep—must be freezing and starving. Poor things."
Dang Yak-ran said.
Her face showed no pity, though. Her cheeks twitched, barely suppressing laughter.
"I figured they'd at least catch a pig or two, but the Ten Spectral Pursuers are nothing special. Kahahaha."
Hyeon-gak chimed in.
Then a pebble the size of a nightsoil pellet flew from somewhere and smacked Hyeon-gak's occiput.
"Ow!"
Whirling around, he saw Gong Cheon-ak glaring from the stretcher under a distant tree. Hands and feet bound tight with rope.
He hastily checked the bonfire.
Fortunately, Seop Dae-gang and Mo Yong-ak had entered the tent, and the Ten Spectral Pursuers were engrossed in their meat.
Hyeon-gak scurried over and grabbed his throat.
"Are you insane? I told you to play dead! How'd you throw a rock with your hands tied?"
"Who carries a dead man on a stretcher? Talk sense, you dolt."
"It's a figure of speech. I've told you a hundred times: act half-crippled until you can run alone. If they see you're fine, Seop Dae-gang will string you upside down from a tree pronto."
"Who says I'm fine?"
"You think I missed the subtle dark energy in that pebble? Looks like your internal injuries are mostly healed too. Keep this up, and you'll regret it big time. Do you know how ruthless Seop Dae-gang is?"
"You're my ally, yet you know even less about him than I do. You think he doesn't know?"
"Then he knows but pretends not to?"
"He knows everything. He just watches out of necessity. Like three ants stuck to a honey stick—one carries them all."
"What's that ant-waist snapping nonsense?"
"By me lying on this stretcher, first, we keep Yeom Jin-sang here. Second, it ties your and Dang Yak-ran's hands. You insist on saving me, so you won't leave. She wants me alive too, so she stays."
"......?"
"But don't worry. The moment I heal and recover my qi, I'll deal with that long-nosed bastard. How strong can a mere Daoist be?"
Hyeon-gak and Dang Yak-ran were mildly surprised inwardly. It made sense upon reflection. They hadn't left his side a moment, tending him.
"How do you know all that?"
"Lying on a stretcher all day leaves little else to do. I eavesdrop on Seop Dae-gang's talks, read the moods in their voices, sense the atmosphere, mull it over—and insights just come."
"They say even a worm knows how to roll. The Demonic Cult's poster boy rock has finally achieved enlightenment."
"Shut it. Making up stories from nothing?"
"Keep it down. I hear everything."
"Talk all you want. Soon as I recover and stand, I'll snap your neck first. Seop Dae-gang's second."
"You're forgetting something—you're the prisoner, I'm the victor dragging you. If I wanted, I could execute you right now."
"Whatever. Just fetch some conch shells."
"Hungry again?"
"Do you piss once a day?"