The Forged Purgatory
The inner layers of the forged Purgatory that unfolded along the blood-gold thread were a place where the laws of the world no longer applied. Above them, a river of crimson flowed upside down, scattering briny red spray into the air, while beneath their feet, cold flames burned in eerie silence.
Gravity itself had gone awry. With every step, it felt as if their bodies might float up into the void or sink straight through the floor, and that grotesque sensation clung to them from head to toe.
Dring— drrroong!
Before the entrance to Purgatory had even fully sealed, a strange zither note tore through the stillness.
Invisible sound waves flashed out of the air like blades and skimmed past Kang Jeok-u’s cheek. If he had turned his head even a heartbeat later, it would have taken his skull clean off. Even the blood running from the split flesh on his cheek could not resist the twisted energy of this place; it bobbed lightly upward into the air.
“Not bad reflexes. But this place isn’t yours, and it’s not a hyeolmun either.”
Hovering in the air with a zither resting across her knees, Hyeolgumseon looked down at them with a sneer.
Each time her jade-white, slender fingers brushed the strings, the space around them shuddered, forcibly scrambling the positions of the Jeokmyeong Association members.
A companion standing beside him a moment ago was suddenly thrown dozens of jang away, and attacks erupted from behind in a scene of utter chaos.
Then a dense gray ash mist began spreading beneath their feet. It wound around the martial artists’ ankles like living snakes, and from within it a thin, emaciated figure slowly rose.
The old man was skeletal, yet his eyes burned with a fierce light. From the stories they had traded at Mugung Hyeoptak, this man could only be Hwanhaema.
Without even straightening his stooped back, he rolled his dim eyes through the haze.
“Heeheehee... A child who has lost his colors has come. What do I look like to you now?”
As Hwanhaema opened his mouth and breathed out that filthy fog, the youngest member, Do Hajin, screamed and collapsed to the ground.
In Do Hajin’s gray-toned vision, the mist took shape, carrying a stinging scent of salt. It became the figure of Cheong No-yun, the one who had vanished in the last hyeolmun.
But this was not the gentle man he had been in life. This was a pitiful wraith, his whole body twisted as though soaked through with salt, black ichor pouring from his eyes like a waterfall as he crawled toward Do Hajin.
“Hajin... Why did you leave me behind... Wasn’t it you who cut my pulse?”
“No-yun hyung? No— I didn’t do that...!”
Do Hajin cried out and slashed wildly with his sword, but the blade cut only through empty air that dispersed like smoke. Hwanhaema’s illusionary arts were vile sorcery that dragged out fragments of the victim’s memories embedded in Purgatory and turned their own fear into reality.
Do Hajin’s sword tip trembled. He was already falling into a bottomless pit where he could no longer tell whether the phantom before him was fake or real.
“Snap out of it, Hajin! Close your eyes and focus on the sound!”
Seo Han-muk thrust his spear, trying to scatter the mist, but Hwanhaema slipped like a shadow and evaded the spear tip. Worse still, the backs of dead comrades erupted from the ground at Seo Han-muk’s feet, grabbing at his legs.
Amid that chaos, only one man remained utterly still: Cheol-ya.
The black seed embedded in his heart—the Black Blood Qi, as Hyeolgumseon had said—was pulsing unpleasantly in response to the air of Purgatory. From within his robes, Cheol-ya drew out and gripped the Black Moon jade tablet.
Wooooong—
The jade tablet, which held a black moon within it, began to emit a dark crimson glow, drawing in the surrounding hallucination mist like a whirlpool. As the cool energy flowing from the tablet wrapped around Cheol-ya’s body, the phantoms that rushed to engulf him screamed and scattered into ash.
“Is fake hallucination tricks all you’ve got?”
At Cheol-ya’s low voice, Hwanhaema’s head snapped toward him at a grotesque angle and fixed on him.
The being Mu-hyeon-gok had searched for so desperately—the seed of Purgatory, the only martial artist who could retain his reason while harboring Black Blood Qi. Hwanhaema understood his nature at a glance.
“Cheol-ya, was it? Hah. If that’s how you see it, then that’s all it is to you.”
With a twisted laugh, Hwanhaema flicked his finger, and the mist surrounding Cheol-ya surged into sharp, lethal forms.
“Tch. Enough of this pointless chatter...!”
Cheol-ya kicked off the ground and leapt. The energy flowing from the Black Moon jade tablet wrapped around his blade. Each time his sword cut through the air, the sticky mist screamed and split apart.
Dirring! Drroong! Dirring!
Hyeolgumseon hurriedly plucked her zither, stepping in to block Cheol-ya’s path.
The space crumpled like paper, twisting the line of his advance. Dozens of transparent blade-like sound waves fanned out and shot down toward his entire body.
But at that very instant, red lightning burst through the distortion in space.
“You music-playing wench, your opponent’s me!”
Kang Jeok-u swung the Jeokrwido and charged straight through the forest of sound waves.
Even though his vision was blurred and the poison of Purgatory was numbing his senses, the heat of the risotto he had eaten at Mugung Hyeoptak still kept his dantian burning hot.
The searing spice of chili oil had forcibly opened clogged meridians, and the thick, rich energy of the risotto had poured explosive force into every muscle.
“Jin Yu-ah! Wi Yeon-ho! Protect Hajin! We’ll handle this!”
With Kang Jeok-u’s shout, the Jeokmyeong Association joined the assault. Jin Yu-ah’s cotton-blade sword flashed everywhere, grinding Hwanhaema’s mist to powder. Wi Yeon-ho precisely parried the sound waves rebounding from Hyeolgumseon’s attacks, sparks bursting from his blade.
Hyeolgumseon plucked the strings harder.
Kwaaaang! The zither’s cry became a physical shockwave that shook the ground.
But Kang Jeok-u did not retreat. Instead, borrowing the warmth of the risotto, he wrapped the Jeokrwido with a coat of red thunder qi.
His blade slammed into Hyeolgumseon’s wall of sound waves. Hell’s chill and human resolve collided, and a tremendous explosion erupted.
“The air you breathe in this mist is my toxin.”
When Hwanhaema swung his staff, the mist took the shape of a giant serpent and coiled around Kang Jeok-u’s red lightning.
The lightning scattered helplessly inside the fog, and Kang Jeok-u spat out blood-tinged phlegm, breathing hard.
Hyeolgumseon did not miss the opening. She plucked the highest string on the zither.
Tiiing—!
A shriek that felt like it would shred the eardrums exploded outward, hurling Seo Han-muk and Do Hajin backward with brutal force.
The twisted space of Purgatory was kneaded like clay at her fingertips, and the Jeokmyeong Association was slowly becoming isolated, unable even to tell one another’s positions.
Only Cheol-ya remained, gripping the Black Moon jade tablet and enduring the hallucinations as he thrust his sword toward Hwanhaema’s true body, but the spatial distortions created by Hyeolgumseon kept forcing the tip of his blade to cut empty air.
***
Yeonhwa anxiously worried at the edge of her apron as she watched the back of Jangro Suksu. He was silently sharpening a knife. The scrape of blade against whetstone filled the quiet inn with a heavy, grinding sound.
“Master... will they really be all right? It’s been quite a while since they left...”
Jangro Suksu lifted the knife, checked its edge against the light, and answered without much concern.
“They ate my food before they went out. My cooking will keep circulating through their blood and adding strength until it’s fully digested. But...” His eyes drifted beyond the inn door, toward the distant sky.
“Those fools alone won’t be enough. The depths of Purgatory aren’t a place a handful of martial artists can hold by sheer spirit. Still, don’t worry. The jerks at Jeong-sa Bon-sa-cheong won’t just be sitting on their hands either.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than a great tremor rolled through the earth from far away.
***
Hyeolgumseon had just raised her hand high for the final strike when—
Thud!
The sudden vibration that shook Purgatory halted the upside-down crimson river for an instant, and the gray mist Hwanhaema had been commanding scattered lifelessly in a single breath.
“What is this!”
Startled, Hyeolgumseon pulled the zither close to her chest. There were few in Murim capable of shaking the very structure of Purgatory itself and rendering her sound-based martial arts useless.
Thud. Thud—!
A steady rhythm began pounding through the space.
From the darkness of Purgatory, a huge man in a red robe over heavy armor walked forward.
It was Hong San, a regular customer at Mugung Hyeoptak and a senior investigator of the Orthodox-Unorthodox Coalition. With every swing of the sword, he radiated a pressure so immense it seemed capable of toppling mountains, and he stepped in front of the Jeokmyeong Association as though blocking their path with a fortress wall.
“I heard the old Blood Cult bastards were putting on a little show here, so I came to have a look. Turns out they’re uglier than I expected.”
Hong San stamped the ground hard once, and the wave of inner energy rippling through the earth tore Hwanhaema’s hallucination mist apart by sheer force.
To the Jeokmyeong Association and Cheol-ya, his arrival felt like a reinforcement of ten thousand men; to Mu-hyeon-gok, it must have felt like meeting Lü Bu.
“After eating the food Yeonhwa-ssi so thoughtfully sent over, I felt so full of energy I couldn’t possibly sit still.”
Hong San drew the Black Moon jade tablet from within his sleeve. The energy pouring from it mingled with his own vitality and began purifying the atmosphere of Purgatory.
To surpass enlightenment, to transcend oneself, and to become one with the world in perfect harmony—that was a martial artist of the Hwa-gyeong realm.
Hyeolgumseon ground her teeth, feeling her fingertips go numb beneath Hong San’s pressure.
If she held out any longer, Hong San’s next blow would shatter not only the zither, but her very life.
“Hwanhaema, we withdraw for now. If Hong San, who has already reached the edge of Hwa-gyeong, is moving personally, then even we can’t force this while we’re in the throes of demonic corruption.”
“Heehee... what a shame. So many delicious souls right before our eyes.”
Hwanhaema looked at Do Hajin with visible regret, then vanished back into the mist. Hyeolgumseon, too, gave Hong San in his red robe a fierce glare before disappearing through a crack in space.
As they retreated, the sinister energy pressing down on the forged Purgatory weakened by half. Kang Jeok-u steadied himself with his blade like a cane, while Cheol-ya sheathed his sword and watched Hong San with cool, unblinking eyes.
Hong San swept his gaze over the Jeokmyeong Association, then burst out laughing.
“You all look terrible. Still, you held out longer than I expected. Especially you lot—I can smell something oddly delicious from inside your bodies. Looks like you ate a feast before coming into hell.”
At Hong San’s question, Do Hajin slumped to the floor and answered weakly.
“...Risotto. The really spicy risotto from Mugung Hyeoptak.”
Hong San nodded with visible satisfaction.
“Risotto, huh? Truly worthy of Mugung Hyeoptak. Now then, we’ve no time to waste. We have to get out before this layer closes again.”
At Hong San’s words, Kang Jeok-u helped Do Hajin back to his feet. Cheol-ya tucked the Black Moon jade tablet back into his sleeve with his sword still at his side.
Even as it faded, Purgatory’s stubborn energy pursued them doggedly from behind, but every time Hong San stamped a foot, the pure inner force bursting from him physically severed that pursuit.
At the same time, Yeonhwa stood clutching the inn door handle, peering outside. After that enormous tremor her master had mentioned, the distant red glow of Purgatory could be seen slowly dying down.
“Master! Over there! I think the door opened!”
The sound of sharpening from inside the kitchen stopped.
Jangro Suksu stepped out slowly, wiping his hands with a towel.
A huge man in a red robe was walking along the road toward them. Behind him, the stumbling figures of the Jeokmyeong Association and the heavy, oppressive presence of Cheol-ya came into view one by one.
“You’re back.”
At those simple words, Yeonhwa let out a breath of relief and dashed outside the inn.
“You’re all safe, right?”
“Yeonhwa-ssi... sorry to have worried you. We barely held on, thanks to the food from here.”
Kang Jeok-u forced a smile, though the breath leaving him still carried the unpleasant taint of Purgatory. Hong San stood at the entrance and exchanged a look with Jangro Suksu before chuckling loudly.
“Thanks to the packed meal you sent over, my inner energy was boiling over. Because of that, I was able to cut those old fools’ little performance short at just the right time.”
At Hong San’s teasing remark, Jangro Suksu gave a light nod.
“You’ve done well. For now, all of you come inside. Yeonhwa, boil fresh water and get them seated.”
Yeonhwa hurried to usher them into the inn. As soon as they sat down, Do Hajin collapsed forward so hard his forehead nearly hit the table, and Seo Han-muk leaned his spear against the wall and hid his trembling hands.
Cheol-ya sat in his usual secluded seat, unchanged in posture, yet his eyes had grown far deeper and sharper than they had been before entering Purgatory.
He took the Black Moon jade tablet from inside his robes and set it on the table. Hong San also drew an identical tablet from his sleeve and placed it beside it.
Hong San’s gaze shifted to Cheol-ya. Tension rose again over the cooling teacups. Yeonhwa, hands shaking, poured them hot tea.
“Now I’d better explain why I rushed all the way here from Chang’an.”
Hong San spoke as he set down his cup.
“Inside the takeout box Yeonhwa-ssi sent me, there was this jade tablet. It’s such a dangerous item that the Black Moon enforcers smelled it all the way to the headquarters’ inner sanctum and came charging in. They were looking for a traitor.”
“A traitor?” Seo Han-muk asked, frowning.
“Someone who disobeyed an order and disappeared. The strange man who performed here at this inn just a few days ago—the one called Heuk-ak-sa.”
Hong San’s eyes moved to Cheol-ya.
“And the order that Heuk-ak-sa defied, even at the risk of death, was to take the head of the one who returned from Manhon Yeon-ok... you, Cheol-ya.”
“Why?” Kang Jeok-u asked back. “Cheol-ya is trying to close the hyeolmun and suppress Purgatory. If the Black Moon House doesn’t want the Central Plains destroyed, shouldn’t they be helping him?”
“Because the Black Moon House doesn’t want Purgatory to close completely.”
The answer came not from Hong San, but from Cheol-ya. He was looking down at the tablet on the table with cold eyes.
“To them, Purgatory isn’t a disaster. It’s simply the perfect tool for driving the world into fear, taming the sects, and forcing their twisted order on everyone.”
Hong San nodded gravely.
“Cheol-ya’s right. And the craftsmen already handling that tool are the old monsters in Mu-hyeon-gok.”
“Cheol-ya, the Black Moon House knows the seed lodged in your heart is resonating with Purgatory. You are the only variable, the only key, that could shut the door on the hell they’re trying to control. That’s why Mu-hyeon-gok wants to devour you, and why the Black Moon House wants to remove you.”
Instead of answering, Cheol-ya unconsciously touched his chest. The dark pulse of Black Blood Qi that had tried to dominate him inside Purgatory seemed still to ring in his ears.
Jangro Suksu slammed a plate of thick, freshly fried karaage down in the middle of the table.
“Eat. If you want your brain to work, chew while it’s still crispy. Black Moon, Mu-hyeon-gok—worry about the ones you’ll fight tomorrow tomorrow. Tonight, fill your stomach first. At least then, when you die, you’ll rot heavy.”
At the old chef’s blunt comfort, Cheol-ya let out a faint laugh and popped a piece of chicken into his mouth. Hot juices burst out beneath the crisp coating and warmed his tongue.
After Hong San had filled himself with chicken and broth as well, he rose from his seat.
“Good. Now that you’ve all got your strength back, I’ll tell you the rest. When I left Jeong-sa Bon-sa-cheong, I dispatched a hundred Iron Horse Task Force elites from headquarters to Xining. By tomorrow at dawn, this inn will be surrounded by the Orthodox-Unorthodox Coalition.”
“The Iron Horse Task Force... a hundred men? Can we even handle that?”
Yeonhwa blanched, eyes wide, and Jangro Suksu said,
“It’s not a matter of whether we can handle it. We’ll have to. Tonight, we’ll be lucky if we get any sleep at all while we prepare.”
“Tomorrow isn’t about defense. It’s a purge. We’ll find the true layer of Purgatory hidden by Mu-hyeon-gok and crush its core completely. Cheol-ya, will you lend us your strength?”
At Hong San’s question, Cheol-ya tucked the jade tablet into his sleeve and rested his hand on his sword hilt.
“I’ll tear out the filth tied to me with my own hands.”
Kang Jeok-u braced the Jeokrwido on the floor and stood. Seo Han-muk, Jin Yu-ah, Wi Yeon-ho, and even Do Hajin straightened their grips on their weapons without so much as a wobble.
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