Fierce Battle Midstream
Midstream of the Valley of Sin.
“Guhhh…”
“Cough, cough…!”
Faint moans still rose from those clinging to the last threads of life, but they were few. Most of the underworld gang members filled the alleyways in broken, butchered heaps.
“Damn those repeating crossbows,” spat the underworld officer who had driven his men into that alley. He stayed behind cover and spat onto the ground.
“Vice Leader. Doesn’t it seem the enemy’s crossbows have gone quiet?”
“Yeah?” Color returned to the face of the man they called Vice Leader. “Makes sense. Even the Sword Family’s crossbows can’t fire forever.”
He had heard that weapons of such unnatural power placed terrible strain on every part of their mechanism; they could never sustain continuous fire for long.
“Then we ought to check—”
“Right. Check it.”
Even as he spoke, the Vice Leader gave the subordinate who had spoken a casual shove from behind.
“Huh…?”
Those were the man’s last words. An iron bolt tore through the air with a vicious shhhk and punched straight through his body.
“Still firing, I see.”
The Vice Leader’s calm voice, as he turned away from the newest corpse pinned to the wall, sent a chill crawling over the remaining men.
“V-Vice Leader, then what do we do now?”
“What do we do?” He flashed them a broad grin and bellowed toward their rear.
“Hey! The crossbow fire’s thinning out over here! Charge in at once!”
The shout was not meant for his own men.
“What?”
“From that alley—he said the crossbows have weakened!”
The call reached the endless tide of other gangs still pouring up from the lower reaches.
“The Second Young Master has promised a great reward to the first organization that destroys an enemy catapult!”
While raising a hand to signal his own subordinates to stay put, the Vice Leader shouted even louder.
“That glory belongs to our Black Spot Faction!”
At once the officers of the other gangs, still panting as they climbed into the midstream, began to shout over one another.
“N-no you don’t!”
“Charge right now! The glory is ours!”
Lured by the Vice Leader’s shallow ruse, they poured into the alley in a black flood.
Kwadududuk!
“Aaaaagh!”
“Keheok!”
Iron bolts rained without mercy; the men who had rushed in were slaughtered wholesale. A subordinate watching the carnage cried out in delight.
“Vice Leader! The bolts really have thinned compared to the start!”
“Good!” The Vice Leader nodded. “Lure a few more of those other gangs in just like this!”
In perfect unison the Black Spot Faction began shouting toward the rear.
“This way!”
“The crossbows on this side are finished!”
“The glory is ours!”
And, sure enough—
“Over there! They say the crossbows in that alley have stopped!”
“Charge! Charge this instant!”
Watching yet more packs of rival gang members take the bait, the Vice Leader and his men shared sly, snickering grins. They even waved the newcomers forward, pointing out the path to their human shields.
“Here! This alley!”
“Over there!”
As the other gangs surged toward them, smiles spread across the faces of the Black Spot men—until the Vice Leader, sharpest of them all, felt something wrong.
“Something’s… off.”
The subordinate still waving the meat-shields looked puzzled. “Sir? What’s off—?”
Kwaang—!
A massive boulder plummeted from the sky and smashed directly into the charging ranks.
“…?!”
Right before the Black Spot Faction’s eyes, more than a dozen men were crushed in an instant. Limbs flew; a thick spray of blood mingled with the billowing dust. There were no screams, no cries. Even if there had been, the shock and thunder of the impact would have swallowed them whole.
Kwaaang!
The next boulder obliterated an entire stone house typical of the valley and buried the men following behind as well.
Kwaaaaang—!
Concealment was useless. Cover meant nothing. Wherever the boulders fell, only death remained. Overwhelming violence.
Speechless, the Vice Leader of the Black Spot Faction suddenly felt a chill on the back of his neck and turned. An especially enormous boulder was flying straight toward them.
Ah. So that was it.
Only then did he understand the strange sensation that had troubled him.
Our side’s cannon fire has stopped…!
And before he could utter another word, the boulder swallowed the entire Black Spot Faction.
Third Pier.
“What in blazes is this?!” Spittle flew from the mouth of the Second Young Master’s elder. “Turn the ships around at once!”
While the Fresh Blood Fleet officer merely shrugged as if there was nothing to say, Elder Hahu, gazing out the window, spoke instead.
“Calm yourself.”
Bloodshot eyes fixed on the back of Elder Hahu’s head. “Calm?!” The man strode forward and pointed outside. “Elder Hahu, you look at that spectacle and tell me to be calm?!”
Yeon So-hyeon’s catapults, having driven the Fresh Blood Fleet back, were mercilessly hurling boulders. Even here at the distant Third Pier the roars and tremors reached them. One could imagine all too well what the underworld forces inside the valley were suffering—even without a clear view.
“The Fresh Blood Fleet has already taken heavy losses,” Elder Hahu said, his tone still flat as he watched the scene.
“But—!”
Elder Hahu cut his colleague short. “If we lose more ships here, how do you propose we force the upper reaches of the Valley of Sin afterward?”
“Th-that is…!” The other elder’s mouth snapped shut.
Even advancing from the lower to the midstream had come to this. Breaking through from midstream to the upper reaches without naval gun support would be all but impossible.
“Nearly every catapult is stationed in the midstream. Once we seize the midstream, the problem solves itself, does it not?”
“Exactly.” The Fresh Blood Fleet officer chewed a strip of dried meat and nodded. “If we can simply neutralize their catapults, we can bring the ships in close and strike the upper reaches directly.”
The Second Young Master’s elders murmured among themselves.
“…There is sense in that, but—”
“Without artillery support, is it even possible?”
Elder Hahu unfolded a note just received from a messenger and gave a bitter smile. “A message from Lady Guyang.” He passed the note to his colleagues and turned his gaze back toward the Valley of Sin.
“What?!”
“Only now the Six Associations have committed their martial artists?!”
Indignant shouts erupted behind him.
“Those bastards still hadn’t thrown in their full strength?!”
“These damned—!”
One of the elders stepped forward in place of the silent Elder Hahu. “Now, now. Everyone settle down. What sort of spectacle are the elders of our house making?” He soothed his colleagues. “However inferior the martial skill of the underworld fighters may be, their numbers can never be ignored. We all know that, don’t we?”
“True enough.”
“On the battlefield, numbers can never be dismissed.”
Watching them nod and quiet themselves, the elder smiled. “We shall soon see the tide of battle turn. Is that not so?”
The final question was directed at Elder Hahu. Whether lost in thought or simply refusing to agree, Elder Hahu gave no answer at all.
“Boulder incoming!”
A sharp-eyed Black Path martial artist shouted and launched himself first; the rest of the Black Path fighters scattered in an instant and avoided the falling stone.
Kwaang—!
Blood and crushed bodies of ordinary gang members who possessed not a scrap of internal qi sprayed outward, yet not a single Black Path martial artist suffered so much as a scratch. In moments they reached the target alley they had been assigned.
“Just as the intelligence said, Captain! A repeating crossbow is positioned at the end of the alley ahead!”
The scout’s report drew a short, clear order from the captain.
“Our Iron Blood Squad will take the rooftops and raid the enemy crossbow position.”
The Iron Blood Squad was the elite combat unit of the Danji Association, which held one of the seats in the Six Associations.
“They say many martial artists stand with the enemy as well. Expect a hard fight.”
Cruel smiles touched every man’s lips. Fear never entered their thoughts. These were men who thrived daily amid the blood and flying flesh of Luoyang’s underworld.
“Good. Move.”
No second order was needed. Clenching blades between their teeth, they clung to the walls like spiders and sprang upward toward the roofs. With the power of internal qi they could treat the battlefield as a three-dimensional space without ropes or tools—an advantage ordinary men never possessed.
Then—
“Where are you rushing off to in such a hurry?”
A window on the wall they were climbing burst open, and a hand the size of a bear’s paw shot out.
Talking before an ambush?
One Black Path fighter sneered at the owner of that hand, twisted his body midair, and slipped past the grab.
“Stupid brat!”
At the same time he drew the blade strapped to his back and slashed. The lightning-quick sword seemed certain to sever the bear-like hands—
Yet—
Ttang!
“…What?!”
As though he had struck an opponent’s weapon charged with full internal force, his blade rebounded cleanly from a wrist that gleamed with a golden sheen.
“Listen well, boy. This is the Vajra Arhat Qigong of Shaolin.”
Kong Dam-ung—lay disciple of Shaolin and heir of the Gong family—thrust his upper body through the window, seized the floating Black Path fighter by the collar with both hands, and roared.
“Hrratcha!”
With that booming shout and his monstrous strength he smashed the man straight into the wall.
“You son of a—?!”
Kwadjik! The head embedded in the wall burst like a watermelon. At once the climbers changed direction and swarmed toward him.
“Kill him!”
Dozens of Black Path weapons and killing intent flashed toward him.
“Whoa!”
Kong Dam-ung yelped, dropped the headless corpse, and rolled backward from the window. The empty frame shattered under a Black Path iron mace.
“After him!”
Through the broken window the Black Path fighters poured into the room like arrows.
“Uh? Uh?”
Whether their speed had exceeded his expectations, Kong Dam-ung let out a flustered cry, stumbled while fleeing, and went sprawling.
“You piece of shit!”
“Cut off his arms and legs first!”
Sneering, they lunged—
Click.
“…?!”
Every man present was a martial artist; all of them heard the sound clearly. Yet even martial artists had no way to withstand the storm of hidden weapons that swept the entire corridor.
Kwajijik!
With a series of explosions the bodies of the Iron Blood Squad fighters were shredded into bloody scraps of meat.
“…As expected—a hidden-weapon trap of the Sichuan Tang Family?”
Feeling a cold sweat of dread, Kong Dam-ung vanished from the spot in a flash.
And that scene was not unique.
“After them!”
A pack of Black Path martial artists pursued two nun-martial artists of the Emei Sect who fought for Yeon So-hyeon.
“Hup!”
The Emei nuns kicked off the facing walls with fluid lightness skill and shot into the air. Their pursuers did the same, springing upward after them.
“…?!”
Windows on both sides of the alley slammed open; archers appeared. They were maids of the Wongak Pavilion.
“D-dodge—!”
How does one dodge arrows while suspended in midair with nowhere to turn? The more skilled among them managed to bat the shafts away from vital points with their weapons, but by the time their feet touched the ground again both the Emei nuns and the Wongak Pavilion archers had already disappeared.
“Goddammit!”
“Heh-heh-heh.”
On a rooftop in the midstream an old woman laughed, wind whistling through the gaps in her missing teeth.
“If you thought our martial artists would meet you head-on, you were badly mistaken.”
The Sleeping Dragon of the South. The legendary strategist who had tormented the military commanders of Yue in the jungles of the southern wilds. Gwak Nopin was a master of guerrilla warfare.
“Come now. Come deeper still.”
In her eyes the labyrinthine tangle of the Valley of Sin was no different from a jungle.