Chapter 73
Chapter 73
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 73
Chapter Title: A Life-or-Death Gamble
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Heuk Do-san, who had fallen asleep after practicing the Hundred Thousand Great Heavens Scripture late into the night before, didn't wake even when the bowl filled to the brim with water.
What roused him was the pain of flesh being torn from his body.
Jerking awake in a frenzy, Heuk Do-san spotted a massive swarm of rice-grain-sized glowing specks fluttering throughout the cave.
His mind snapped alert.
'Blood bats!'
Incredibly, the bats that had fled when the cave collapsed had returned. The problem was that they had returned in a black mass, clinging to him and gnawing at his flesh.
"You filthy beasts, daring to attack a human!"
Fury boiling over, Heuk Do-san thrust out both hands, grabbing bats at random and slamming them into the ground amid the frantic flapping.
But it was only for a moment before he yelped in pain and stopped. In that short time, his forearms and wrists were drenched in blood.
Even caught in his grip, the bats tore at his flesh with sharp teeth and claws.
"What the hell!"
Fortunately, the iron staff he had set aside while practicing the Capturing Hand was there from the night before. He snatched it up and swung it wildly through the air like a storm.
Thud thud thud thud thud!
Screech! Sizzle! Screech!
"I'll kill every last one of you!"
The bats struck by the iron staff fell like leaves. But no matter how fast the staff moved, it couldn't fend off thousands of bats armed with razor-sharp teeth and claws. And their ferocity was beyond savage—they were like packs of small beasts.
In moments, his fur garment hung in tatters like a rag. His exposed arms and legs were soaked in blood. At this rate, he'd be devoured by the bats before he even mastered the Hundred Thousand Great Heavens Scripture.
'Why have these things suddenly turned so vicious?'
To thin their numbers, Heuk Do-san fled the narrow chamber into the cavern. Then, spotting Snow Mountain Old Man's bed in the distance, a sudden idea struck him.
"The bat flute!"
He recalled how Snow Mountain Old Man had once played it to command the bats when they first entered the cave.
Without a second thought, he rushed to Snow Mountain Old Man and rummaged through his robes. By some miracle, the flute was still there.
He seized it and blew into it furiously.
He puffed his cheeks to the limit, but no sound came out.
Just like when Snow Mountain Old Man had played it.
Yet the bat swarm suddenly grew agitated. Their murderous assault vanished, and they scattered in confusion, one by one disappearing somewhere.
"Whew, that was close."
He had barely caught his breath when another thought flashed through his mind like lightning.
"But where are they coming from?"
He whipped his head around. At the top left of the cavern was a small hole, and the bats were vanishing into it rapidly.
"Aha!"
Elated, Heuk Do-san dashed back to the chamber, grabbed the lamp, and returned. Careful not to provoke the remaining bats, he climbed the wall and peered into the hole.
The fiery glow from the bats' eyes faintly illuminated the narrow passage as they flew. The entrance was wide enough for a head.
But that was only the start—the tunnel twisted and narrowed beyond, far too tight for a person to enter.
"Of course."
Disappointment washed over him. The faint hope he'd harbored crumbled into despair, leaving him deflated. He almost wished the hole hadn't appeared at all.
"No. That's not it."
The fact that bats could come and go meant a steady supply of air. He might have failed to find an exit, but at least he didn't have to worry about suffocating.
Truly a blessing.
"But why does it still feel so rotten?"
He examined the bat flute again. The small instrument, fitting in his palm, was riddled with holes like any flute.
There had to be some pattern to controlling the bats.
They had retreated for now, but who knew when they'd return in force for another attack. He needed to figure out how to command them, and fast.
But how?
"Maybe it's written on the cavern walls?"
Regrettably, the cavern walls had no records on controlling bats.
"Solve one problem, and another pops up."
His fears proved true.
The bats repeatedly invaded the cave, launching fierce assaults. Each time, Heuk Do-san blew the flute and somehow drove them off.
As these days repeated, he began to notice patterns without realizing it.
The first was a simple melody that drove away the swarming bats and summoned them back. Primitive as it was, it finally let him sleep in peace.
From then on, the bats were no longer enemies but allies.
One day, the bats that had gone outside brought back a slender snake. Unlike ordinary snakes, its transparent body bore vivid, mottled patterns that screamed poison at first glance.
Heuk Do-san had eaten plenty of snakes while wandering battlefields, but this was a first.
"Spring must have come."
Having subsisted on crickets, he devoured the snake like it was beef.
That night, he suffered unbearable fever and chills. He alternated between icy cold and scorching heat, passing out repeatedly till dawn.
Rising at first light, Heuk Do-san sensed the changes in his body and was stunned.
His mind was sharper than ever, and even faint light let him see deeper into the darkness.
"Not an ordinary snake."
The bats continued bringing snakes after that. Around then, he learned another fact.
The bats saw him as their master. Bringing snakes was a lingering instinct from their training under Snow Mountain Old Man.
"How much time has passed? Snakes are crawling around, so seasons must have changed. How much longer will I spend here?"
He couldn't know the remaining time.
But there was a way to gauge how long he'd stay.
The next morning, Heuk Do-san cut off all his hair.
How long for it to reach his shoulders? He'd never grown it out before, so he wasn't sure.
About a year?
Regretfully, he decided to measure time by his hair. When it reached his shoulders, he'd cut it—marking a year.
"I won't spend my life just growing hair till I die, right?"
His intense focus accelerated his progress. At first, a light palm strike produced booming sounds.
Then he reached the stage of leaving clear handprints on solid rock walls.
Much later, he succeeded in punching holes deep enough for his fist.
But shattering the collapsed mountain and escaping? Impossible.
Heuk Do-san redoubled his training. He lived days like decades, months like years.
For reasons unknown, practicing the Hundred Thousand Great Heavens Scripture vastly strengthened his other martial arts as well.
The Earth Burrowing Technique from Dao Swordsman was one. Originally suited for digging dirt tunnels, it required soil.
Combined with the scripture, he could now shatter and excavate small rocks.
Unbelievable.
Things once unimaginable were happening in his body. Yet time dragged on, slow and slower.
Then one day, he hit an unexpected wall.
He ran out of bodies without the Blood Corpse Mark. Without enough qi accumulated, this was dire.
He might end up neither dead nor alive, wasting away in the cave.
By then, Heuk Do-san realized two things.
First, the Hundred Thousand Great Heavens Scripture was a formula for absorbing corpse qi and converting it to inner energy—not a cultivation method that built power through endless practice.
Mastering the formula was incredibly difficult, of course. It took five cycles of growing and cutting his hair.
But once perfected, it boiled down to physical effort: finding corpses and absorbing their qi.
Judging from Snow Mountain Old Man, higher realms might hit walls, but for now, that was it.
Second, even the same corpse qi varied in potency by body.
A young girl's was faint as breath; a mature woman's could be overwhelmingly vivid, like swallowing another entity.
Here, Heuk Do-san formed a hypothesis.
What if he extracted corpse qi from someone who had amassed enormous amounts?
Perhaps absorbing thousands at once.
Corpse qi was death's essence. Taking it all in at once? Unthinkable consequences.
But if successful, it could slash training time dramatically. A pipe dream, but if it worked, he might escape the cave right then.
No choice.
Heuk Do-san drank all remaining Azure Spirit Stone Oil for nourishment. Three days later, he sat facing Snow Mountain Old Man's corpse.
Frozen in his final pose, the old man looked vividly asleep.
Human bonds, especially master-disciple ties, were strange. Until recently, he'd stopped at nothing to kill him—arguably succeeding with his own hands.
Yet bound by "master," he hesitated to touch the body.
Heuk Do-san placed a bowl of water before the corpse.
"This is all I can offer. But if I escape, I'll hold a proper rite once a year—not a feast, but sincere."
He paused, then added,
"You're not hoping I die here old and gray, are you? As you said, to master the Hundred Thousand Great Heavens Scripture and leave... I need the corpse qi accumulated in your body. Maybe even your innate essence."
Saying it aloud felt absurd. He'd ravaged foreign women's corpses without qualm, yet hesitated at his master's?
A dead, frozen body—what difference if he extracted soul or qi?
No. All excuses.
Deep down, terror that absorbing it might end his thirty-odd years of life. That's why these rationalizations.
"Tch."
Heuk Do-san gulped the water from the bowl. Staring hard at the corpse, he declared,
"Here I go!"