Chapter 178. The Fall of the Immortals (2)
Han Bin trailed Gong Son-su as stealthily as possible.
The destination was undoubtedly the lair of some mysterious master.
From the moment he'd heard that flute melody, Han Bin had added one more possibility to his list.
Gong Son-su might have fallen victim to a bewitching soul technique.
The bewitching soul technique was one of the sinister martial arts that could draw out a person's soul and puppet them like marionettes.
The problem lay in Gong Son-su's normal behavior.
Someone under a bewitching soul technique acting completely natural? Impossible.
In truth, those ensnared by it always showed unnatural behavior.
From his prolonged observations, Han Bin had found no such traces in Gong Son-su.
If it truly was the bewitching soul technique, he'd have to assume the worst.
An opponent wielding it so subtly that no one noticed. That meant they were an absurdly high-level master.
At that point, it wouldn't even be a mere bewitching soul technique—it'd deserve the title of great soul bewitchment art.
In which case, the top priority was avoiding a direct confrontation with the enemy.
He had to steer clear of that scenario at all costs.
Han Bin's footsteps grew even more furtive.
Sasasak.
How far had he gone?
On the outskirts of a village, quite a distance from the Gong Son family manor, a dense forest appeared.
Han Bin swiftly slipped into the woods.
The first thing Han Bin did upon entering the forest was catch a passing rabbit.
Hundred Shots, Hundred Hits.
He flung a small needle borrowed from Jang Ja-myeong at the rabbit.
Pik.
The rabbit collapsed without a sound.
He hadn't killed it—just paralyzed it, leaving it immobile.
Han Bin stuffed the rabbit into a pouch from his bosom.
Then he scouted the area for pine trees and smeared pine resin on various parts of his body.
For this tailing mission, Han Bin was determined to proceed with utmost caution.
Not just against the bewitching soul technique user—there was another factor too.
Facing two foes stronger than himself? That was the last thing he wanted.
He needed to learn every detail about the enemy, but they must remain ignorant of his true power.
That was the board Han Bin had to set up for this game.
Laying the groundwork perfectly was essential for victory.
Today's goal wasn't a head-on clash—it was intelligence gathering.
All these meticulous actions were precautions for any contingency.
With preparations complete, Han Bin cautiously tracked Gong Son-su's traces.
A short while later.
Han Bin watched as Gong Son-su met a woman in white martial robes.
At a glance, she outclassed him.
More precisely, her realm surpassed even the blood demon sorceress or the freak he'd encountered at the Huangbo family.
Of course, the woman was thoroughly concealing her presence.
How could Han Bin gauge the realm of someone hiding their aura so completely?
It came from senses honed through years of weathering the storms of the jianghu.
That woman was beyond the second sub-realm of the Fire Transformation realm—at least third sub-realm or higher.
The Fire Transformation realm was divided into sub-realms called gyeong.
What distinguished the first gyeong from the second?
Common wisdom held that handling three first-gyeong masters earned you the second-gyeong label, and mastering three second-gyeong masters made you third gyeong.
By his estimate, it would take both Han Bin unleashing Lightning Flash and Hong Chilgae piling on to subdue this white-robed woman.
Han Bin stifled his breathing and focused intently on her.
Her lips were strikingly red.
And in her mouth was a flute of peculiar shape.
As Gong Son-su approached, she removed the thumb-sized comb-shaped short flute from her lips.
Han Bin now understood why her lips looked so red.
A trickle of blood seeped from the short flute.
Seeing the blood, Han Bin's jaw dropped unconsciously.
That little flute was undoubtedly the Blood Fragrance Bewitching Soul Comb.
It was called a comb—not a flute—because it resembled a small one.
Among jianghu folk, the Blood Fragrance Bewitching Soul Comb was renowned as a treasure, said to let the user control a victim's soul with their own blood.
In other words, its medium was sound laced with blood fragrance.
Victims didn't just react to the sound—they became enslaved to the user's blood.
Han Bin now knew the nature of the bewitching soul technique afflicting Gong Son-su.
A Fire Transformation master wielding the Blood Fragrance Bewitching Soul Comb?
It wasn't mere bewitchment anymore—it was an inescapable net.
The worst part: Gong Son-su himself was oblivious to it.
The next issue: How long had Gong Son-su been ensnared?
Han Bin tuned into their conversation.
Gong Son-su rummaged in his bosom and produced a letter.
"Here it is, Elder Pal Seon."
His demeanor was that of a devoted servant attending his master.
The woman stroked his white hair approvingly.
"Good. Well done, child."
"……."
Gong Son-su gazed at her like a dog awaiting a treat.
She glanced at him and smiled radiantly.
"But I can't praise you fully, child. Do you know why?"
"……."
"Because you're too old. If I drained your vitality now, this spot would be your grave."
"……."
Gong Son-su beamed silently at her.
Han Bin narrowed his eyes at the term "Pal Seon."
Pal Seon?
The Pal Seon in Han Bin's memory were the eight masters from Jiangnan martial world who had vanished.
Their common thread: all from Dao-pursuing sects.
In Jiangnan, they were called the Eight Immortals for their talent and virtue.
But promising disciples from each sect had simultaneously fallen to qi deviation, then disappeared during treatment.
The matter was hushed up; the sects avoided mentioning it.
They could have illuminated their sects with glory.
People dubbed the incident the Tale of the Fallen Immortals.
Named for straying from the path on the verge of ascension.
Given they'd slit their comrades' throats upon vanishing, "fallen" fit well.
It warranted public record in the jianghu.
But each sect buried it to avoid staining their reputation.
Thus, the Pal Seon faded from the jianghu.
That was fifteen years ago.
Of course, none had resurfaced since.
If Han Bin's guess was right, this woman was surely Ami faction's Baek Seon.
From records in his past life, the Justice Alliance called her the Ami White Immortal.
White martial robes, neat eyebrows, refined features anyone would admire.
Contrasting red lips.
Silver crescent blade at her waist.
Everything matched his past-life memories.
Her name was Jeong So-gun, right?
As Han Bin dredged his memory, his eyes widened.
He'd spotted the shimmering points around her body.
That formula was undoubtedly a human-grade one.
Absorbing it from her could complete a full human-grade formula.
But it felt like a pie in the sky.
Now wasn't the time to reveal himself before the Ami Baek Seon.
That was when it happened.
A chill wind grazed Han Bin's back.
Simultaneously, a man appeared beside the woman.
A man in black martial robes.
The black-robed man spoke.
"I must be going, sister."
"Off to savor something delicious alone, little brother?"
"Headquarters summons me—I have to go. The rest is yours. I won't return for a month."
"Hee-hee, I'll miss you, little brother."
"Don't make that face, sister. You look relieved—am I wrong?"
"No, your eyes are spot on. Relieved? More like ascended."
"Please, no trouble. Stay low, sister."
"Got it. Hurry off, little brother."
"Farewell."
As the black-robed man turned, the white-robed woman smacked her lips.
Chup.
Like someone eyeing a feast.
The black-robed man looked back.
"No mischief, sister. Remember our promise—no random snacking."
With that, he vanished.
Seoseu-seuk.
As Han Bin refocused on the woman.
A sudden chill ran down his spine. He cautiously turned.
Turning, Han Bin froze in horror, holding his breath.
The black-robed man was scouting twenty-odd jang away.
What the?
As Han Bin tilted his head, the black-robed man drew his sword.
Sreung.
Eyes narrowed, he stared right at Han Bin's hiding spot.
"Smells suspicious around here…."
Trailing off, he slowly approached Han Bin's position.
Teobuk-teobuk.
Han Bin swiftly extracted the needle from the rabbit.
Seuk.
The rabbit twitched back to life.
He hurled it away.
Tak.
The rabbit bounded off in the thrown direction.
Han Bin had erased his presence perfectly.
A flawless concealment leaving no scent or tracks.
One possibility remained?
The wind carrying his traces.
It'd mean the foe could distinguish wind brushing humans, trees, or rocks.
Best to evade for now.
This trick had fooled foes multiple times in his past life—proven effective.
Han Bin prayed inwardly as the rabbit fled.
Take the bait!
The black-robed man slashed as the rabbit bounded toward him.
Whik.
His sword halted an inch from it.
But the rabbit froze, petrified by the sword's aura, immobile as ice.
Glancing at it, the man said,
"Sorry, little one. Nearly harmed an innocent life by mistake."
Finishing, his form melted away like snow.
Only then did the rabbit bolt into the forest.
Watching it all, Han Bin grew even more certain they were the Pal Seon.
From past-life memories, the black-robed man was Jongnam's Heuk Seon.
The vanished prodigy of Jongnam faction.
He wielded a sword now, but his specialty was fist techniques.
Han Bin considered his evasion pure luck.
Pal Seon he'd never faced in his past life?
One down—only Ami Baek Seon remained.
Subduing her could uncover their backers.
More crucially, the shimmering points all over her body.
What to do….
Han Bin observed their conversation a bit longer, then slipped away.
Sasa-sak.
Han Bin reemerged on the forest's opposite side.
Why here?
He'd resolved to steal the formula from Ami Baek Seon, Jeong So-gun.
Tracking her traces, he'd staked out this spot.
She'd passed here en route to meet Gong Son-su.
She'd return eventually.
A direct fight might be daunting, but with preparation, victory was possible.
Han Bin began setting up swiftly.
How much time passed?
A figure in snow-white robes entered his view.
In this remote woods, it had to be Ami Baek Seon.
Han Bin climbed a tree.
Whik.
The woman approached steadily.
Teobuk-teobuk.
Ami Baek Seon passed right under him.
Han Bin raised Wol-a, already drawn.
Lightning Flash.
Swift Sword Calamity.
Chaining them seamlessly into another Yongrin Sword Art technique.
One Touch, Immediate Strike.
Blue sword qi rippled at Wol-a's tip.
Simultaneously, his true qi surged through his body, pooling in his legs.
In an instant, Han Bin shot toward Ami Baek Seon like an arrow.