Those Who Touch My Things All Die! (5)
"We're following him!"
"Damn it... Infinite Mercy Buddha!"
A curse spilled from Heo Sanja’s mouth before he hastily corrected himself into a Daoist chant.
That alone showed how desperate he was becoming.
How did things end up like this?
Nothing had seemed unusual on the way into the Sword Tomb. No, the same was true even after that. Even if every last person who had gathered to seize the Sword Tomb had come rushing in after them, Heo Sanja would not have been particularly concerned.
There was no one among them who could hope to stand against Wudang.
But the situation had started to unravel when fewer people entered than expected, and only the strongest among those gathered above decided to come in.
At first glance, the small number of people who had entered the Sword Tomb might have seemed like good news for Wudang. But the ways of the world were subtle, and things never moved so simply.
When a crowd was large, it was difficult to reach an agreement. When it was small, however, exchanging opinions became easy. That was especially true when the group consisted of strong experts who could not help but be wary of one another.
As a result, Wudang was now being pursued by an alliance of those who had entered the Sword Tomb.
It seemed they had reached an understanding: for the time being, they would prevent Wudang from breaking through the Sword Tomb. That alliance’s interference had become a very real threat to Wudang.
Heo Sanja’s voice was tight with urgency.
"Why the hell is this place so damn wide?"
"Given the structure, we should be seeing the end soon!"
"Hrrrgh!"
Even so, Heo Sanja’s expression refused to ease.
Damn it. What on earth was Yak Seon thinking when he built a place like this?
It was common enough for dangerous traps to be found where treasures were hidden. What kind of people would hide priceless relics away in secret places and not be a little twisted?
Such people usually believed only those with the right qualifications should obtain the things they left behind, and so they installed traps at random to test that qualification.
But this was supposed to be Yak Seon’s tomb.
Who would have imagined that Yak Seon would create a tomb packed full of traps like those eccentric maniacs... no, something even worse?
What a vicious bastard!
Heo Sanja had already skirted death several times. As the one at the front, he was also the one who had to take the full brunt of Yak Seon’s traps first.
Needles rained down. Terrifying pitfalls suddenly opened beneath their feet. And beyond those, there were grotesque traps laid everywhere, so vile they made every hair on the body stand on end.
Traps waited ahead, and behind them came those trying to stop them, eyes bloodshot as they chased hard after Wudang. In all his long life, there had been few situations as painful as this.
Heo Sanja bit down hard on his lip.
This isn’t just some coincidence.
He kept feeling that someone was deliberately steering events this way. He knew the odds of that being true were close to nothing, and yet, for some reason, he could not shake the thought.
Wasn’t it strange that no one had gone in to block the others with sheer numbers, or entered the Sword Tomb together to pin them down? The fact that no one at all had made it inside was suspicious enough.
Could it be that brat...?
Once he thought of Chung Myung from Mount Hua—the one who had scattered the map and drawn all the sects and factions here—Heo Sanja could not help wondering whether even this situation had been part of Chung Myung’s plan.
But he shook his head soon after.
That was too far-fetched. There was no way that young monster could see so far into the future and set the stage like this. His mind might be quick, but predicting the nature of Jianghu people and laying out an entire board like that was impossible without experience in Jianghu itself.
Besides, the senior generation of Mount Hua had not come to Namyang, had they?
That white-robed swordsman, Baek Cheon or whatever his name was, was leading the disciples. To imagine that they could have seen this situation coming was absurd.
"Elder! The pressure is intense!"
"Mm."
Heo Sanja gave a deep groan.
"Heo Gong!"
"Yes, Senior Brother!"
"Hold off those coming from the rear as much as possible. Lead the disciples and tie their feet down!"
"And Senior Brother?"
"I will take a few people and push ahead quickly."
"Understood!"
Heo Gongjin-in answered decisively, then threw himself toward the rear.
"Jin Hyeon! Mu Gil! Mu Pyeong!"
"Yes, Elder!"
"Follow me! We’re taking the Honwon Dan!"
"Yes!"
Heo Sanja shot forward in a blur.
Dragging out time while holding off the rear could never be the best option. Losing several people, including Heo Sanja, would be a heavy burden for those left behind, but now they had to accept some sacrifice if it meant getting their hands on the Honwon Dan first.
As he widened the distance and surged onward, Heo Sanja suddenly clenched his teeth.
"Down!"
Phat! Papat! Papat!
The instant the words left his mouth, sharp arrows flew in from the front in a murderous volley. The arrowheads glimmered with a green sheen, which meant they were definitely coated in potent poison.
"Yak Seon!"
Heo Sanja’s sword lashed out, batting the incoming arrows in every direction. His swordsmanship flowed without pause, and not a single arrow was allowed through.
"They call him Yak Seon, and he uses poison-tipped hidden weapons? What in the world is this place!"
But that was not the end of it.
"Elder, there’s something ahead."
At Jin Hyeon’s words, Heo Sanja frowned.
He could feel no qi at all, so what in the world did he mean by “something ahead”...?
And then it happened.
Heo Sanja, who had been rushing forward, came to a sudden stop.
Then he stared ahead in utter disbelief.
In the darkness.
Something was moving deep within that darkness, beyond what the eye could clearly make out.
Heo Sanja was not startled simply because something was moving in this Sword Tomb, which should have held no living people.
No life force?
Something was moving, and yet he felt no aura whatsoever. Any moving thing should have life to it, but not a trace of that was present. That could only mean whatever was moving now should not have been alive.
Then what, exactly, was moving?
Grrrrr.
Grrrrrr.
At the strange sound drifting from within, Heo Sanja felt every hair on his body bristle.
And when he finally identified what those moving things were, he could not stop himself from spitting out a furious curse.
"You crazy son of a..."
He had never seen them with his own eyes.
But he knew all too well what he was looking at. He had heard about them countless times.
...jiangshi.
The dead were moving.
Emptied of life, with skin turned ash-gray, corpses lurched toward them in a shambling gait. The sight alone filled them with instinctive revulsion.
Heo Sanja shouted in rage and shock.
"What in the world is this place!"
But there was no time to be surprised.
"E-Elder! They’re coming!"
"Damn it!"
Heo Sanja gripped his sword tightly. Whatever was coming, their duty was clear.
"These are the dead who cannot even rest in death! Show them mercy and send them into sleep!"
"Yes, Elder!"
Heo Sanja clenched his jaw.
What in the world were you thinking, Yak Seon?
Maybe he had been wrong about Yak Seon all along. If so...
Maybe no one is leaving this place alive.
Heo Sanja swept the needless thoughts from his mind and, shouting a Daoist chant, charged at the jiangshi.
* * *
It was infuriating.
Hong Dae-gwang was furious enough to go mad.
What, he had done something wrong, so why was he the one feeling wronged?
Yes, I messed up.
He had no excuse for that, not even if he had ten mouths.
But even so, no matter what mistake he had made...
"I’m the grown-up here!"
"I’ll smash you, damn it!"
Chung Myung raised one hand. Hong Dae-gwang flinched and pressed himself flat against the wall.
"Ugh, if I weren’t restraining myself, I’d just—"
If Chung Myung had been in the body of his former life as the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, Hong Dae-gwang would already have been reduced to dust. But for some strange reason, when he tried to beat up an older man in this body, something in him always hesitated.
That was why it had only come to this. And yet somehow, the man still looked so wronged?
"Ugh. You’re making me sick."
Whether he understood Chung Myung’s mood or not, Hong Dae-gwang looked around with a pitiful face.
All that came back at him, however, were blade-sharp glares.
"I knew that bastard would cause trouble someday."
"Bury him right here. If he gets beaten to death by the Mount Hua Divine Dragon here, it’s more than he deserves! More than he deserves!"
"How did we end up meeting a man like that and calling him branch leader!"
"If you’re going to die, die alone!"
It was heartbreaking.
What made it even sadder was that the people hurling those insults at him were his own subordinates, not the disciples of Mount Hua.
Enduring the fierce abuse and filthy curses thrown at him by the Beggars’ Sect members, Hong Dae-gwang rubbed at the corners of his eyes. The only comfort was that in the dim, shadowy chamber, his bruised eyes would not be easy to see.
"This is why I never wanted anything to do with beggar bastards!"
"...Don’t keep saying beggar, beggar. The beggars hearing you are offended."
"Then stop being beggars!"
"...."
Hong Dae-gwang shut his mouth tight, knowing that whatever he said now would only earn him more abuse.
"Anyway..."
Chung Myung glared at Hong Dae-gwang, clearly searching for something else to harass him about. Every time that vicious look stabbed into him, Hong Dae-gwang’s whole body twitched.
Perhaps sensing a fellow sufferer, Baek Cheon quietly stepped toward Chung Myung and changed the subject.
"We can’t keep wasting time here."
"Tch."
Chung Myung let out an irritated sigh. If it were up to him, he’d have liked to spend at least three days taking this man apart, but there was no time to spare.
"Do better."
"...I’m sorry."
"Hmph."
Chung Myung shot Hong Dae-gwang another displeased glare before turning on his heel.
"The Beggars’ Sect wasn’t like this back in the day. Why does everyone keep getting worse and worse?"
What “back in the day” Beggars’ Sect was he even talking about?
Hong Dae-gwang, resentment and sadness rising up from his gut, could only swallow them down. At that moment, Baek Cheon and Yoon Jong came up and patted his shoulders in silence.
"Don’t comfort me. I think I’m about to cry!"
"I understand."
"Sniff."
Hong Dae-gwang shook his head and let out a long sigh.
"Anyway... where is this place now?"
Chung Myung looked around. The end of the long corridor had opened into another vast stone chamber, and at the far end of that chamber was yet another new door.
"Hmmm."
Chung Myung narrowed his eyes.
The door was firmly shut.
"There’s no sign anyone’s gone in here."
"Urghhh..."
Chung Myung ground his teeth.
"There was a side passage in the middle. We were supposed to go that way, but some damn beggar knocked down the ceiling!"
That “some beggar” shrank his shoulders.
Outside the Sword Tomb, he had been treated as one of the Beggars’ Sect’s finest talents and a seasoned Jianghu expert. Here, however, he was nothing more than a beggar who caused trouble.
"...Then what went wrong?"
"Tch. Wrong or whatever, we have to go check it out first."
Chung Myung glanced back briefly and said,
"The way back’s blocked anyway."
At that, everyone’s expressions hardened.
Until a moment ago, if things went wrong, they could at least crawl back up to where they had fallen from. But now there was no retreating. They had no choice but to push forward and find a new path.
"I’m going to check ahead. Stick close behind me."
"Okay."
"If you touch anything weird again, I’m cutting your hands off!"
"...Understood."
Chung Myung glared at them, then strode over and opened the door. He tilted his head slightly.
"What?"
"No, I think I smell something fishy."
"Huh?"
"Never mind. I’m going in."
Chung Myung carefully opened the door and stepped inside. This place was different from the corridor they had passed through a moment ago. Before them stretched a natural cave, untouched and unman-made.
It’s still a narrow cave, though...
Chung Myung knit his brows slightly and quickened his pace.
They had been making their way deeper through the cave for some time when—
Drip.
"Don’t make noise."
"Okay."
Drip.
"I told you not to make noise."
"I didn’t."
Drip.
"Then what the hell is that sound? Did I make it? Did I...?"
Drip.
Chung Myung’s words stopped. Slowly, his head began to tilt upward.
"Huh?"
No way.
And then, at that moment, as if someone had splattered bright red paint across the cave walls, hundreds of tiny red dots suddenly revealed themselves at once.
"Huh?"
This looks bad.