Inevitability - 7
“It has far exceeded anything we can control.”
Uigakju explained Hwarin’s condition with a heavy expression. She had failed to fully convert the toxic energy of the Thousand-Year Centipede—Dang Geoho’s hidden ace—into a poison core.
The venom of the Thousand-Year Centipede could be guided during battle, drawn toward the core’s energy like livestock herded in one direction by their master. But once the fighting ended, it began preparing to turn on its own host.
“What must we do?”
He had said she could live if we reached the Sichuan Dang Clan. I pressed Uigakju for the exact method.
“We need the Human-Faced Spider’s Poison Core to subdue the extreme Yang venom of the Thousand-Year Centipede.”
The Human-Faced Spider’s Poison Core. The creature itself was a spider the size of a large predator, its body crowned with a human face.
As if having a human face made it sociable. It was no friendly insect that stopped to ask how your day was going. In this wuxia world it ranked as an S-tier venomous spirit beast—a straight-up monster.
“And this Human-Faced Spider’s Poison Core is held by the Sichuan Dang Clan?”
“It is.”
Uigakju nodded. At least I wouldn’t have to waste time debating whether a greatsword or a gunlance would be better for hunting giant spiders.
“Then we simply go to the clan?”
“There is a problem. The Human-Faced Spider’s Poison Core is a supreme treasure of the Sichuan Dang Clan. We must persuade both the Clan Leader and the Council of Elders to hand it over. Even if we succeed, there is no guarantee a single human body can endure the combined venoms of a thousand-year centipede and a human-faced spider.”
“Persuasion, endurance, certainty—none of that can be settled while we sit here.”
Whatever happened, we had to reach the Sichuan Dang Clan first and think from there.
“There is a still more serious problem.”
“What is it?”
“The moment we leave this village, Demonic Cult pursuit teams or encirclement units may attach themselves to us.”
“You said earlier that wasn’t the end of it?”
“The main assault force was certainly the ones we faced at dawn. But there may be Demonic Cultists waiting along the road, anticipating our flight.”
“So what you’re saying, Uigakju, is that we have to risk our lives forcing a path through Demonic Cultists who may be lying in ambush, reach the Sichuan Dang Clan where Hwarin might or might not be saved, persuade them to give us their supreme treasure, and then pray that Hwarin can survive the Human-Faced Spider’s venom on top of everything else? What a delightfully simple plan.”
Perhaps it was Hwarin’s condition. Irritation bled into my voice.
“…There is one other option.”
Even as he spoke it, Uigakju seemed to regard it as no real answer, yet he offered it anyway.
“I would prefer the easy one.”
“We turn back the way we came and descend the mountain. Retreating is simpler than advancing. We tend the wounded, recover, send word to the Sichuan Dang Clan, receive reinforcements, and return home under their protection.”
It really was the easy method. If not for one tiny detail I would have slammed the choice button immediately.
“If we do that, Hwarin dies.”
“Fortunately, before she collapsed she succeeded in binding the venom to the core’s attractive force. She can hold on for a while, though I cannot swear how long.”
“Why suggest a method that won’t work?”
There was only one way to save Hwarin. Why even mention the other?
When I snapped the reply, Uigakju looked at me with a faintly exasperated gaze and spoke.
“Because we may be escorting the hope of the Sichuan Dang Clan. We must avoid unnecessary risk.”
Hope? I glanced around, bewildered, and felt every pair of eyes lock onto me.
I’m the hope? Kang Yunho, the black-haired barbarian brat, had really moved up in the world. Somehow I had already convinced them I was the Clan Leader’s long-lost illegitimate son.
I turned back to Uigakju. He watched me in silence, testing me with his eyes.
So he wanted me to choose.
“Hwarin is a child of the Dang Clan. She is its victim. And she is its long-held regret. If a child who has overcome every hardship and finally spread her wings falls to earth for a moment and we simply turn our heads away, where in the world has the righteousness of the Sichuan Dang Clan fallen?”
I looked around at them all and spoke in a tone of earnest appeal.
The Medical Pavilion people would never suddenly refuse to protect Hwarin. They had already risked their lives for her and been saved by her in turn.
The only thing that mattered was my choice.
“Sometimes one must turn away for the sake of a greater cause.”
Uigakju’s voice still tested me.
“Even if someone else turns their head, do not order me to turn mine from Hwarin.”
“Protecting this child could cost you your own neck.”
“A moment ago you called me the possible hope of the clan. Hwarin is a friend who staked her life for me. Anyone who will not stake his neck for such a friend does not deserve even to be called hope from this day forward.”
My life was precious. But if I lost Hwarin here I would lose everything else that made life worth living.
The comrades I could entrust my life to, the friend who would support me to the end, Daseogak, Hopil, Dangga Pungun, even the occasional glimpse of something nice between her collars—I had started as a ragged black-haired barbarian and clawed my way this far.
Losing her meant crawling back to the starting village and beginning all over again. I would rather take the gamble.
“Very well. If that is your will, then let us go.”
Uigakju smiled, clearly satisfied with my answer.
He was going to go anyway and still felt the need to ask my intention.
“We split into three groups. Those still able to fight will protect this child, Dang Hwarin, and move forward. Deputy Head Dang Pae and the seriously wounded will remain for treatment and return later.”
Uigakju began rapidly reorganizing the remaining members.
“If there are three groups, what is the third?”
“Myself and those whose martial skill is high but whose injuries are severe will form a separate team.”
“What does that mean?”
“My own wounds are not light. In a large-scale engagement I would only get in the way. When the enemy appears we will split into two paths and sow confusion among them.”
He meant to become bait. If pursuit clung to us, the diversion would work—but the bait group’s survival odds were grim.
“You’ll die doing that. Just stay with—”
“Do I look like a man who needs the worry of a barbarian brat?”
Uigakju sneered at me.
“Ha.”
Hope one moment, barbarian the next. Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered worrying.
“I am confident I can escape the jaws of death. Do not trouble yourself.”
He spoke words meant to reassure me, then simply looked at me in silence for a moment. His face still wore that mocking expression, yet the light in his eyes had softened a great deal since the day we first met.
“Take care of yourself.”
He had once been an adversary, yet a man willing to stake his life for me deserved only my support.
“We move.”
“That bastard Dang Geoho! He failed! Find the Dokin!”
Crisis arrived in an instant.
The moment we passed through the mountain village and re-entered the mountain path, black-clad figures who had been waiting launched their attack.
Even at a glance they were weaker than the ones who had swarmed us through the night, yet their tenacity was undeniable. The Medical Pavilion fighters flung hidden weapons and poisons with frantic speed, but the pursuit never broke.
“I will take the southwest path. The rest of you head northwest!”
“Damn it—they’re splitting!”
Unable to shake the pursuit team, one group finally peeled away as planned to serve as bait.
“Ghk!”
“Ugh!”
The pressure lessened, yet we still could not throw them off completely.
Warriors already exhausted from battle began collapsing one by one. The carriage we rode in toppled.
“This is bullshit.”
I was flung from the wreck in a 720-degree spin that would have made a triple axel jealous.
“They’re all going to di—”
“Keep fighting to the—!!”
“The carriage—!”
I couldn’t make out the words. My ears rang. My body felt as numb and heavy as if I had just come out of major surgery and the anesthetic had only half worn off.
What happened? The carriage went over and I was thrown clear. My limbs refused to obey. Had something broken? Thankfully I could still feel my fingers and toes.
Even crawling on solid ground was hard enough; slamming into it after a 720-degree dive must have packed more force than I realized.
I had never been in a traffic accident in my previous life, yet here I was tasting one. Ears half-deaf, body half-useless, I could only move my eyes to scan the surroundings.
Sound still reached me, yet nothing was visible. Had I been thrown farther than I thought? Cold wetness and pain spread across my back. The sutures must have torn open.
If I closed my eyes now I would black out for certain, so I stared up at the sky instead.
When was the last time I lay on the ground and looked at the sky?
I clawed desperately for a thread of thought to keep consciousness from slipping. The quickest memory I could seize. A feeling of déjà vu from the body guided me.
Unfortunately it was not a pleasant one.
Of all things, why did I have to remember getting beaten half to death in Chilgok County? Robbed by third-rate black-path thugs, left broken on the rainy ground of a shantytown, convinced my life had fallen into the abyss.
This is supposed to be a martial world—where the hell is the chivalry? Why did no one help me? I had raged at the heavens once.
“Find Author Hopil!”
“Where did Young Master Kang go?!”
Looking at it now, people who lived by their own sense of righteousness did exist, contrary to the prejudice I had carried. Of course it never quite reached the shining ideal of the wuxia novels I had read for so long.
“Ghk!”
“You vile Demonic Cult dogs!”
“The wagon! The Dokin has collapsed inside the wagon!”
Even after realizing that chivalry existed in this world, it still was not the martial-arts novel world I had known.
It was not a place where a gallant hero appeared and solved every problem. It was a place where everyone was busy looking after their own skin.
“Then I have to help, at least.”
I had to get up. I spoke the words like a self-hypnosis, forcing strength into my arms and legs.
I had to protect Hwarin. If I did not rise now I would lose her, and it would be exactly the same as that day in Chilgok County. Once was enough for weeping and screaming at the sky, asking why everything had been stolen from me.
I slowly forced my body upright and surveyed the field. Fortunately it was still a stalemate. I wished someone would appear to resolve this mess, but reality was not a martial-arts novel.
This was not a pure wuxia world. It was a wuxia dating-sim world.
In the end the only one who could help me was myself.
I had to go raise that fallen horse at least…
“Ah!”
My body lurched.
Damn it. I was falling again. My body was too heavy, yet my eyes remained uselessly sharp, watching the ground approach in slow motion.
I braced for impact, but what met me was not hard earth. It was something firm yet faintly soft—a human body.
“I understand your spirit, but please remain lying down.”
“Who…?”
The unexpected figure offered me a small smile and then strode toward the enemies.
There was once a man.
Was there truly no chivalry left in this world?
What had the martial world of his dreams ever been?
A world that never extended a hand to a black-haired barbarian. A reeking shantytown. A rainy day. A man who had screamed at the sky with a ruined body sprawled on the muddy boards.
The man wanted to find hope. He wanted to write something so that hope might exist in this world. He hoped someone would read his scream, his hope.
— Let’s write a martial-arts novel.
And so the man sowed a single seed upon barren soil.
Contrary to his wish the seed showed no sign of sprouting, and the man was not the sort to remain forever weeping at the sky. He brushed off the dust, rose, and set out on the road again.
Yet the seed had been sown.
Just as every event has its cause and effect, a sown seed is granted many possible outcomes.
“Who goes there!”
Some seeds rot unnoticed. Some are pecked away by passing birds. But some take root in the earth and send up a green shoot.
“The Great Wudang Sect.”
Coincidence. That one man’s hope should take root in the headquarters of a great Taoist sect was mere coincidence.
“Third-generation disciple.”
Affinity. A third-generation disciple discovered a bond with the Wudang Sect inside a badly written book. And so at last the seed sprouted.
“Successor of the Eight Trigrams Sword Technique.”
Fortuitous encounter. Within that seed the third-generation disciple finally found the flower called destiny’s gift.
A flowered seed produces new seeds, and new seeds in turn weave new bonds.
Therefore today’s meeting—
was neither coincidence,
nor affinity,
nor fortuitous encounter.
“I am Cheon-un.”
It was inevitability.