Many Hills Yet to Cross - 1
Evening was settling in, the sun sinking low. While the tranquil afterglow dyed the Thousand-Day Plum Blossoms of Mount Hongseong an even deeper crimson, a lone figure vaulted over the wall of the Hongseong Sect.
Go Yu-mi—known throughout the Jianghu by the epithet Gentleman of the Beam. A seasoned thief who had infiltrated any number of sects in her time.
She cleared the fence without the slightest difficulty and melted into the shadows, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her martial arts were nothing remarkable, but for a woman whose trade was infiltration, the Hongseong Sect hardly registered as a formidable target at all.
She had expected it to be easy—but really, who knew it would be this easy? Compared to the times she'd nearly died trying to slip into places like the Moon Lotus Pavilion, the Sword Pavilion, or the Wudang Sect, climbing Mount Hongseong was nothing at all.
I knew it would be easy, but still.
There was, admittedly, a warding barrier meant to keep outsiders away, but it could hardly stop someone of Go Yu-mi's caliber.
The mountain itself is thick with yin energy.
Surveying her surroundings, she clicked her tongue briefly. But that was the whole of it. Mount Hongseong was a sacred mountain, and spirits drawn to its spiritual qi gathering there was an everyday affair.
Paying them no mind, Go Yu-mi made for the food storage, exactly as her master had instructed. Disciples crossed her path now and then, but they seemed to carry little wariness—which made sense. She wasn't there to attack; she was simply drifting along in silence, veiling every trace of herself with the Stepless Divine Steps. Unless someone was in a state of deep focus, picking her out would be no simple feat.
Brimming with confidence, she moved fast. Just as her advance research had promised, the sect's food storage stood near the outer gate. Pausing before the hastily built storehouse that sat close to the disciples' quarters, she smirked once more. The door was locked fast, but a lock was no obstacle for Go Yu-mi. She picked it with a light touch, slipped inside, and the moment she did, drew from her breast a white powder.
She dusted it over the food with meticulous care, waiting until the powder had lost its color entirely and seeped into the grain. And just as she finished confirming that—
"Yaaawn~!"
"Time to get dinner ready~!"
Clear voices rang out. She slipped away from her spot at once—and caught sight of a woman with striking red hair, and another with dark brown locks. Realizing they were Hong Ryeon, the Hongseong Sect's eldest disciple, and Ryu Hyeon, its second, she smiled quietly to herself.
Then she began to watch. She watched until the two carried the food into the kitchen, and only after taking in every step of it did she judge the mission a success, satisfaction settling over her—unaware that the two women who had carried that food inside were smiling, cold and knowing, from within.
Holding her breath where she hid, she waited until she saw the smoke of cooking rice rising from the kitchen. All that remained now was to confirm them eating the poisoned meal.
Go Yu-mi fixed her gaze on the dining hall, concentrating for all she was worth—
Damn it all.
A woman was walking toward them from the distance. Long navy hair deep as the sea; a slightly oversized outer robe draped on carelessly; long white legs moving at an unhurried pace beneath the short trousers that marked the Hongseong training uniform—a beautiful woman.
Her face was stern, and within it dwelt nothing less than a god of carnage.
The Sword Saint, Na Yerin, was approaching.
The instant Go Yu-mi laid eyes on her in the distance, she flung the Stepless Divine Steps and her arts of concealment to their very limits and abandoned her position without a moment's delay. Against anyone else, perhaps, hiding might have sufficed—but against a master of the Sword Saint's caliber, a concealed body was no guarantee of safety. No, forget that: her mere appearance alone was enough to make Go Yu-mi's skin prickle.
Having retreated far beyond any chance of detection, she sharpened her sight and looked toward the dining hall. The disciples were filing in. She couldn't see inside, of course—but those who had entered were coming out again, washing dishes and all. Surely that meant they had eaten?
She swallowed hard. Watching the Sword Saint emerge and head off to train with her disciples, Go Yu-mi clenched her fists tight.
Then, focusing to her utmost, she concealed herself once more near the well beside the dining hall and strained her ears. Voices came riding on the wind.
"Sa Yun. Was dinner tasty tonight?"
"Yes, Eldest Senior Sister! The rice came out wonderfully! Your cooking really is the best, Eldest Senior Sister!"
"Hehe. Listen to you."
Listening to the two girls chatter away in high spirits as they washed the dishes, Go Yu-mi rejoiced in silence.
Yes. It was done. They had eaten.
There was no reason to linger here any longer. Go Yu-mi left the Hongseong Sect wearing a frosty smile.
And Hong Ryeon spoke, calm and unhurried.
"She's gone."
"She is? I didn't notice a thing..."
"Hehe. Then you had best train harder, hadn't you?"
Hong Ryeon stroked Sa Yun's ash-grey hair as she said it, her voice even and gentle.
"We've done nothing but take from that 'Uncle' of ours again. How are we ever meant to repay him..."
"Don't I know it."
To Sa Yun, muttering in a deflated voice, Hong Ryeon could only shrug.
And I'll have to repay him too, won't I...
If not for the Fasting Pills he had given them, they could never have deceived an enemy like this. Hong Ryeon fingered the Fasting Pill tucked in her breast.
Night fell. Left alone in her room, Hong Ryeon sat cross-legged and let her thoughts wander. Since mastering the Hongseong Divine Art she had fought any number of foes—but never before had the Hongseong Sect itself come under direct attack like this.
The thought that the sect—her family now, in everything but blood—might be in danger pressed down on Hong Ryeon's heart like a stone.
What if she made a mistake? What if her sisters died, or were maimed? What if. What if.
"...Whew."
Letting out a low breath, she admitted she couldn't concentrate, took up her sword, and stepped outside. Would swinging the blade until her mind went blank help settle her?
Or else...
"No. No. Not right now..."
She had already been given so much—enough to burst her heart. Which meant it was time she gave some of it back, wasn't it? Better to think on that now than to simply run to him, lean on him, and act the spoiled child.
So—what could she possibly give him in return?
But then, good ideas only came to women who had actually given a man a gift before.
Before she knew it, Hong Ryeon's head had turned of its own accord. What met her eyes was the collection of romance novels she had been hoarding all this while. Surely there was useful reference material somewhere among them.
Her gaze drifted slowly across the spines—and stopped at a compartment lined with books of an entirely different sort, their covers trimmed in a faint shade of red.
She stared blankly at them, and in an instant her face flooded crimson, so hot it felt ready to burst.
"A-ahh. Ugh."
Why, of all things, were those crude jokes she'd teased her sisters with surfacing now? Why did Hong Ryeon bite her lip hard against a heart that was pounding like mad?
"Cannot sleep?"
The door opened, and a voice drifted in. It was the Sword Saint, her navy hair braided in a decidedly clumsy fashion and left hanging long. Judging by the handiwork, she had done it herself.
"Not buried in your spring books as usual, I see."
"Ahaha..."
She flinched. At the scandalous thought that had surfaced only moments ago, Hong Ryeon shook her head vigorously. She was, after all, still a maiden who had never once been in love. Her sisters might get away with such things, but with him...
As she stole a quick glance at herself in the mirror, the Sword Saint favored her with a serene smile.
"Of late you seemed to be steadying your heart. So it was yourself you were anxious over?"
"Ah, no, that's not... Yes. I can't quite say that it isn't."
Hong Ryeon smiled and drew close. She seated the Sword Saint beside her, loosened the strands poking out every which way, combed them smooth, and began to braid them with care. Not refusing the diligent hands, the Sword Saint spoke calmly.
"It is all right. All is well."
And when the braiding was done, she turned and gathered Hong Ryeon into her arms.
"Have you not done everything within your power? Then it will all turn out well."
Please—let it be so.
In the Sword Saint's embrace, Hong Ryeon quietly closed her eyes.
"And that poison. If I am not mistaken, it will take hold around noon tomorrow."
"You recognize it?"
"Mm. I laid eyes on it once, long ago."
The Sword Saint smiled and stroked Hong Ryeon's hair, and Hong Ryeon sighed. What a dependable master to have at a time like this. With her here, it was time to steady her heart. She had done all she could, after all.
Some days are simply like that—days when the sky is needlessly beautiful and one's mood is every bit as foul.
An unidentified, clinging menace hung over the Hongseong Sect, and every one of the disciples felt it. Yet not one of them let it show. They simply passed the hours as though it were an ordinary day—because that was exactly what it was meant to look like.
And so a day no different from any other slipped by, until the sun stood at its zenith.
Noon had come.
"Cough!"
It began with Ryu Hyeon. Scarlet liquid spilled from her lips—and starting with her, disciple after disciple crumpled to the floor.
"Everyone!!"
Hong Ryeon's cry echoed through the Hongseong Sect. And then—
—THOOM!!
With a deep, shuddering boom, the barrier laid over the Hongseong Sect shattered. In the same breath the sect's walls came down, and through the breach, figures clad in black began to walk in.
At their head was a tall man, square-jawed, with hard, protruding eyes. His gaze was so steeped in menace that anyone—not Hong Ryeon alone—could see he was a villain who would harm a person if the need arose. No—even when there was no need at all.
The man strode in without bothering to veil his killing intent, a dozen-odd black-clad figures at his heels. Taking in the state of the Hongseong disciples, they grinned, smiling wide as though thoroughly delighted.
"What is the meaning of this!!"
Gripping her sword, Hong Ryeon shouted—and in that very instant, she staggered.
"They call me the Iron Blood Water Emperor, of the Iron Blood Dan."
"...Kgh..."
Ryu Hyeon bit down hard on her lip. Behind her, Hyeon Hwi retched up another mouthful of scarlet.
Only after surveying the scene—more than half the disciples in visible distress—did the man sneer at Hong Ryeon.
"The poison took beautifully. Sun-Falling Sword. Where is the Sword Saint?"
"...Poison."
"That's right."
He was at his ease. Yes—how could he not be? Even disciples of the Sword Saint could hardly fight properly while poisoned.
Look at her. Even the Sun-Falling Sword herself had been stricken; she couldn't even stand straight, staggering where she stood with her greatsword for her only prop.
"...You coward!!"
"Haha. How naive. We did not come here for a friendly duel. We came only to cull the weak. Let me offer you a piece of advice. In a fight—"
A venomous smile curled at the corners of the Iron Blood Water Emperor's mouth.
"—there is no such thing as cowardice."
He was right. In the law of the wild, where the strong devour the weak, where would cowardice even fit? Use poison when it serves; betray anyone, as often as it serves. When a predator hunts its prey, what need has it of fair play? If the prey has grown weak, one simply closes one's jaws on its throat and tears.
Baring his teeth in a grin, the Iron Blood Water Emperor turned to his men.
"And the others?"
"By the report that came earlier, government troops are thick around Mount Hongseong, so we judged it would be difficult for them to slip in past the negotiations... But they are not the sort to break a promise, so you need have no concern. We also gave orders that if any friction with the authorities arises, they are simply to pay their way through. They will be nearby already, no doubt, waiting on the signal. How could any of them dare defy your commands, Master? The moment the signal flare goes up, they will move at once."
"Tch. Jo Yo. Have you confirmed it?"
"...My apologies. Not yet."
He clicked his tongue briefly at Jo Yo, who stood behind him. But his subordinate spoke truly—the Gohwa Squad and the Jugyeong Squad were men of no small skill; they would not blunder. And they would soon be followers of the Iron Blood's will besides. Could they really fail at so small a task? Very well—he would forgive this much, with a generous heart.
Because what mattered was—
"...What an utterly insolent creature."
The Sword Saint, walking toward them from across the grounds. Dealing with that woman—untouched even by the poison, as befitted one of the ten supreme powers of the world—was the crux of it all.
And as for the most important preparation, those Hongseong disciples retching up blood over there were more than sufficient. The whole design had been to strike at the moment the poison—set to take hold around noon—showed its effects, before the Sword Saint could purge it from her disciples' bodies.
"An honor to meet you at last, Sword Saint. I am the Iron Blood Water Emperor, of the Iron Blood Dan."
"...You dare lay hands upon my disciples and believe you will leave this place unharmed?"
Her voice alone commanded the field. The subordinates he had brought in tow, heavy with cultivated power, exuded killing intent.
The Iron Blood Water Emperor only shrugged.
"Sword Saint. I know well enough that you are strong. But your disciples—the children of Hongseong—are dying as we speak. And yet... do you mean to simply stand by and watch?"
Crack. The Sword Saint ground her white teeth together and swept a hand through the air—and the disciples' complexions eased a little more.
Truly worthy of her legendary name. Purging the poison by nothing more than the circulation of her inner power?
Thank the heavens they had moved on schedule. Had the Sword Saint been granted more leeway, more time, many more of her disciples would have been cured with every passing breath.
So muttering briefly within, the Iron Blood Water Emperor smiled. More than half the Hongseong disciples were already poisoned, and the rest could hardly be called safe either. Could the Sword Saint truly heal every last one of them—
"Attack."
—while fending off the Iron Blood Dan's assault besides? True, the sell-swords he had hired had yet to arrive, but in their present state, his own men alone would be more than enough.
So thinking, the Iron Blood Water Emperor bellowed the order—and the instant one of his men lunged for Hong Ryeon's throat—
—CRUNCH!!
Hong Ryeon's eyes flashed through her stagger, and her greatsword obliterated the man in a single stroke.
At the sight of his subordinate—flesh and entrails burst apart as though crushed beneath a colossal boulder—a question formed in the Iron Blood Water Emperor's mind.
What was this?
What in the world was this?
Before the question could find its answer, a colossal battle aura erupted from the bodies of the Hongseong disciples who had been writhing in agony mere moments before.
"Wh... what...?"
They weren't poisoned? What in the world was happening?
The sword of the girl who had been slumped helplessly on the ground knocked an Iron Blood blade aside and opened its owner's arm to the bone. The woman who had vomited blood moments ago shot out a fist and sent two members flying at once.
Every one of them.
Every last one of them was fighting as though nothing at all had happened.
The Iron Blood Water Emperor's face twisted. Meeting his gaze as she swung her greatsword at another of his men, Hong Ryeon smiled—cold as winter steel.
"Let me return that advice you were kind enough to offer. In a fight, there is no such thing as cowardice."