Sacrifice Beneath the Fading Blood Moon
Yeong-hwa walked at an unhurried pace.
He approached Hyeonsong, who knelt on one knee with a hand clamped to his shoulder.
Pat—pat—pat—
Hyeonsong swiftly sealed the pressure points along his shoulder and stemmed the bleeding. He retrieved his fallen sword and asked Yeong-hwa in a quiet voice,
"Has Hyeoncheon Sangje come once more?"
Yeong-hwa forced a smile.
"There is no answer."
He leaned close and whispered into Hyeonsong's ear.
"The former Sect Leader charged me, over and over, to unleash the palm techniques exactly as he directed…"
"A perfect checkmate, then."
Hyeonsong's gaze remained fixed on Baekmok's sword aura, which grew deeper and redder by the breath. Across the grounds the first- and second-generation disciples who had burned the pigs stood slack-jawed, staring blankly at the moon.
Baekmok found their helplessness amusing. He covered his mouth and laughed like a madman.
"The Ghost Gate is already opening."
He pointed a finger at the blood-red full moon.
"When even the stars are swallowed by the crimson moon…"
Baekmok slowly lifted his sword to his shoulder.
"…the comrades Junior Brother Hyeonsong has longed for will descend upon this world."
Despair settled over Hyeonsong's face.
In that moment Yeong-hwa closed his eyes with the look of a man who had no other choice.
"One moment only. No longer."
His voice changed.
It was a voice Hyeonsong had forgotten in the deepest recesses of memory.
"Junior Brother Hyeonsong."
"Senior Brother Baekhak!"
Yeong-hwa's eyes were no longer a boy's. They held the weight of long years and the hard light of a veteran who had walked countless battlefields.
"Are you unharmed, Junior Brother Hyeonsong?"
"Senior Brother Baekmok's blood energy is far too strong."
Yeong-hwa closed his fingers around the broken sword.
"Do not fear. We need only tear that blood jade from his body."
He smiled at Hyeonsong.
"Believe once more in this unworthy senior brother."
At those words Hyeonsong forced himself upright and staggered back a few paces.
Yeong-hwa turned on Baekmok and cried out,
"Did you hate me so much?"
"Silence."
"Hearing you now, I see I truly was a worthless senior brother."
Bitterness settled across Yeong-hwa's face.
"I was thinking only of Master's dying wish and the future of our sect…"
"Do not dare foul the names of Wudang and our Master with that filthy mouth."
Baekmok's sword shook violently in his grip.
"And for that reason you drove countless disciples of our own sect to their deaths!"
"You do not understand."
"Then make your excuses!"
"The seat of Alliance Leader is precisely that sort of burden!"
Sorrow threaded through Baekhak's voice.
"If I myself do not set the example first, if our sect does not bleed…"
Yeong-hwa forced the words out.
"…who would ever trust and follow us beneath the banner of the greater good?"
"Is that all? For so paltry a reason?"
Baekmok threw back his head and laughed like a lunatic.
"Petty… so very petty…"
He covered his eyes with one hand. Thin lines of blood began to etch themselves down both cheeks.
"And so you shoved the junior brothers who shared half a lifetime of joy and hardship onto the front lines…"
Baekmok regarded Hyeonsong and Yeong-hwa with eyes emptied of every emotion.
"The Wudang I envisioned is not such a place."
He closed his fist around the blood-jade pendant at his throat.
"I hear Hyeoncheon Sangje has arrived?"
A thin smile curved his lips.
"Then I ought to offer him a reception worthy of a god."
Clang—
The blood jade shattered into glittering shards.
"Aaaaaaaaargh—!"
"Kieeeeeeeeeeh—!"
"Kyaaaaaaaaah—!"
Unnatural screams tore through the air in every direction. Vengeful spirits flooded outward across the whole of the Central Plains. Wudang Mountain itself was drowned in absolute crimson, as though the blood moon had sealed the peak inside a cage of light.
"Senior Brother… I shall redraw it."
Baekmok raised the sword that still dripped blood.
"With these hands I will remake the Wudang Sect and the entire orthodox martial world that your twisted conviction has stained."
The broken sword in Yeong-hwa's grip shrieked madly, as though answering the howls of the dead. Pure white sword energy erupted from the blade.
"Senior Brother Baekmok!"
"Junior Brother Hyeonsong—fall back."
"Senior Brother Baekhak!"
"He is already beyond saving."
Saaat—
In a single breath Yeong-hwa stepped the Taiji Azure Pine Steps and vanished.
Baekmok raised his sword to the right as though he had expected the angle all along.
Kaaaaaaaaaang—!
Using the rebound, Yeong-hwa launched himself skyward, stepped on empty air, and drove the sword forward. The path of the blade flowed like wind changing direction without warning.
Immortal Points the Way
Zheng—zheng—zheng—zheng—zheng—
Baekmok beat Yeong-hwa's sword aside with the flat of his own blade.
"Did you think I would simply stand and watch?"
Blood-red sword energy burst from Baekmok's weapon and hardened into a vast membrane of force. He swept the blade downward. The membrane split in two and unfurled like wings, reaching to seize Yeong-hwa.
Phoenix Spreads Both Wings
Yeong-hwa's sword carved a perfect circle. Sword energy painted the Taiji symbol across empty air. In the same motion he drew the blade to his breast and thrust straight into the heart of the phoenix's wings.
Embracing the Moon to the Breast
The moon of the seventh form tore through the phoenix wings and swallowed them whole.
Taat—taat—
The two fighters broke apart and opened distance.
Yeong-hwa spoke first.
"Drunk on blood energy, you have shattered the balance of yin and yang. That is why you never mastered the Taegeukhyekeom."
"I need no such parlor tricks. With this power alone I can unify the Central Plains."
Then it happened.
"Haaaah—! Cough—!"
Yeong-hwa gasped and spat blood. The single moment Baekhak had been granted inside his body had already run out.
Baekmok did not waste the opening. He shot forward like a bolt of light.
In that fractured instant the profound principles of Wudang swordsmanship that Baekhak had left behind flooded through Yeong-hwa's upper dantian. Baekhak's voice rang in his ear.
"You must endure, child."
Yeong-hwa bit down on his lip and rode out the shattering agony. At the farthest edge of those principles the Taiji itself was gone. Only the Wuji remained—an endless ring of black and white turning without beginning or end.
"Do you understand now?"
I understand.
"I left a final measure of internal energy in your body."
Baekhak's voice grew fainter.
"Enough… to unfold the Taegeukhyekeom…"
Baekmok's blood-red sword energy speared toward Yeong-hwa's heart. Yeong-hwa's left foot slid back half a pace. His own blade turned and gently wrapped the flat around Baekmok's killing stroke.
"What—!"
Faced with the living Taegeukhyekeom, Baekmok's eyes flew wide with shock. He tried to wrench his sword free, but Yeong-hwa turned with the flat of the blade in a soft, yielding circle. Baekmok's weapon lost all strength and was drawn helplessly inward.
Paaaaaaah—
Baekmok abandoned the sword, poured every shred of internal force into his legs, and retreated with desperate footwork.
Chaaaaaaaaang—
Baekmok's sword spun up into the air. In the same heartbeat Yeong-hwa's turning body became a whirlwind that carried Baekmok's own sword energy with it.
Puk—
The broken blade of the former senior brother sank deep into Baekmok's heart.
Thud—
The blood energy that had armored Baekmok's body poured out in every direction and scattered.
"Hah— hah— hah— hah—"
Yeong-hwa dragged in ragged breaths and lifted his face to the sky. The blood-red full moon that had caged Wudang Mountain was slowly reclaiming its true color.
Baekmok weakly closed his fingers around the sword buried in his chest and murmured,
"In the end… even after offering up everything… I could never surpass Senior Brother."
He gave a self-mocking laugh.
"An entire lifetime."
Unseen by anyone, his fingers twitched. The sword that had begun to lose its crimson light stirred, inch by inch.
"But I wonder, Senior Brother… do you know this?"
Baekmok continued speaking as though he still believed Yeong-hwa was Baekhak.
"Even in death I will be remembered as the Sect Leader of Wudang."
He grinned and raised his hand.
"Because no one will ever take the Taegeukhyekeom from me!"
The sword that Yeong-hwa's Taegeukhyekeom had flung aside rose into the air and shot toward Yeong-hwa like a streak of light.
"No—!"
Hyeonsong lunged to catch the blade with his bare hand, but his body refused to obey.
Puuuuuuuk—
Yeong-hwa spun at the wet sound of steel piercing flesh, shock written across his face.
"Cough—"
Myeong-yeon, Yeong-hwa's grandfather, had thrown his own body into the path of the sword.
"Grandfather! Grandfather!"
Yeong-hwa caught the collapsing old man in his arms.
"No—no—please—!"
Myeong-yeon stroked Yeong-hwa's face with a calm expression.
"From the moment Hyeoncheon Sangje restored my sight, this was the price I had already agreed to pay."
"Why? Why would you do this?"
"I could not protect my own son. I watched him die before my eyes. I would not watch the same fate take you, my grandson."
Myeong-yeon's trembling hand closed around Yeong-hwa's.
"Do not weep, my grandson."
Hyeonsong, still clutching his bleeding shoulder, knelt beside them. He seized Myeong-yeon's wrist and poured internal energy into the meridians, but it was useless.
With the last of his strength Myeong-yeon caught Hyeonsong's sleeve.
"This child has wandered the Central Plains his whole life because of his worthless grandfather and the ruin of our house."
Myeong-yeon's eyes flared one final time.
"Swear to me you will protect him."
Hyeonsong swallowed the sob rising in his throat.
"I will accept him as a disciple of Wudang and watch over him myself."
"In the next world I will…"
The words never finished.
Thud—
Myeong-yeon's hand fell limp. Hyeonsong closed his eyes. Yeong-hwa's scream tore the night.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
Bang—bang—bang—bang—
Yeong-hwa pounded the ground with his small fists until the skin split.
"Is this why? To snatch away everything precious to me again?"
He lifted his face to the heavens and howled.
"I curse you all!"
He raged at the moon that had already returned to pure silver.
"Just because you are gods you treat human lives like pieces on a board—"
The words broke off. Shock and grief overwhelmed him; he collapsed into unconsciousness.
As the crimson aura that had smothered Wudang faded, the disciples began to regain their senses one by one. Hagun hurried to Hyeonsong's side. He looked upon the corpse of Sect Leader Baekmok and let out a long, sorrowful breath. When his gaze fell on Myeong-yeon, slain by the sword, tears spilled down his cheeks.
Hyeonsong gathered Yeong-hwa into his arms and rose.
"I will carry him, Elder Hyeonsong."
"No. Our sect has incurred a debt to this child that can never be repaid."
Hyeonsong looked down at Baekmok's body and continued,
"Let today's events remain unspoken."
"Yes, Elder."
"Cremate the Sect Leader's remains and scatter the ashes behind Wudang Mountain."
"Understood."
Hyeonsong drew a deep, weary breath and spoke again, slowly.
"Every decision will wait until this child awakens. Until then, I leave the disciples in your care."
"I will not fail you."
Hyeonsong staggered toward the Hall of the Eight Immortals. The disciples of Wudang moved among the still-dazed elders, supporting them. It was a night in which the wounds of the Wudang Sect only grew deeper.
"Awaken."
The voice at his ear and the sudden chill that swept through his whole body dragged Yeong-hwa back to consciousness. Before him sat a man upon the shell of a black tortoise. Dark serpents coiled and writhed around the beast. It was Xuanwu and Hyeoncheon Sangje himself.
The instant Yeong-hwa recognized the deity he clenched his fists and charged. Black serpents shot from Xuanwu and bound his arms and legs.
"Hyeoncheon Sangje, you bastard!"
The armed attendants who served the god cleared their throats at the boy's outburst.
"Lord Hyeoncheon Sangje, however great his merit in closing the Ghost Gate may be…"
"Indeed. Such insolence must be corrected with a thrashing."
Hyeoncheon Sangje raised a hand for silence.
"It is of no consequence."
Yeong-hwa thrashed and poured every curse he knew upon the god.
"Would it not be wiser to hear me first?"
"Our… our grandfather…"
"I know you despise the gods, yet we do not regard human lives as playthings."
Hyeoncheon Sangje exhaled a long sigh.
"Did you know how little of your lifespan remained?"
"What does that matter?"
"The day of the final battle at Wudang was the last day written upon your life thread."
The deity pointed a finger at Yeong-hwa.
"I am telling you that your grandfather's sacrifice and your own accumulated merit have rewritten a fate that should have ended in death."
The fight drained from Yeong-hwa's bound body; he hung limp.
"What good is that?"
He began to weep with raw, broken sobs.
"Everyone I love leaves me one by one, always before me…"
Hyeoncheon Sangje clicked his tongue softly.
"Your grandfather asked me to deliver these final words."
"'While we live we are so harsh, yet when we look back only regret remains—that is the life of a human being.'"
The god fixed Yeong-hwa with a steady gaze.
"Will you try, for once, to live your own life properly?"