Fire Against Fire

In the very heart of Yeomhwabang, we found the mouth of a cave shaft as dark as a bottomless pit.

Saying it that way makes it sound as though we stumbled upon it in no time at all, but the search had cost us no small effort. The Yeomhwabang had gone to considerable pains to blend the entrance into the surrounding landscape as seamlessly as if it were part of some grand formation.

"This looks like the place."

"So it would seem."

In any case, we had surmised that the Ten-Thousand-Year Supreme Blood Treasure lay within these depths. We could be fairly certain of that without so much as peering inside, and the reason was the sulfur stink that stung sharply at our noses. Both the Sovereign of Destruction and I possessed the knowledge and experience to connect that smell to a volcano. A genuine stroke of fortune, truly — had the scent not leaked out, the odds were high we would never have found this place before the day was out.

"Er — I mean, you could have left at least one of them alive, couldn't you?"

"Ahem."

The trouble had been born of the Sovereign of Destruction's ruthless handiwork, so this scolding was inevitable.

"How was I to spare men who had ignited their latent power through a demonic art?"

Yeom Gi-ha offered his own justification in rebuttal.

"The Yeomhwabang master was still standing, wasn't he?"

"That one wasn't worth a damn alive or dead."

Logically speaking, I could win this argument — but this time, Yeom Gi-ha's words held true.

"...That much is so."

Meaning I had no choice but to concede the point. Every last member of the Yeomhwabang had ignited their latent power with the demonic art — everyone but the master himself. My guess was that he had known all along what the demonic art truly was. A man who regarded the lives of his own kin and followers as so many consumables — perhaps the Sovereign of Destruction, cutting him down with a single stroke, had shown him the mercy of a Buddha after all.

"Shall we go in, then?"

Yeom Gi-ha asked, his eyes gleaming.

The shaft bored straight down into the earth. Not a speck of light entered it — black as ink, breathing a faint heat, thick with a foul reek of sulfur. It was a space so sinister you would believe it the mouth of hell itself. And yet the Sovereign of Destruction looked positively impatient to plunge in. Whether that was simply the adventurer in him, or because the Blood Treasure waiting below was the rope that would lengthen his life, I could not say.

"Wait."

In martial prowess the Sovereign of Destruction left me far behind — but where elixirs were concerned, I was the one a cut above, and so he reined in his excitement at my word. I rummaged through my breast pocket and drew out the case I had hidden so carefully.

Click.

The moment the case opened, a biting chill flooded out in every direction.

"Oho."

The supreme elixir that could wring admiration even from him — the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng. And yet, gazing upon it, not a flicker of greed showed anywhere in the man. A true oddity among men, I decided, was the only fair assessment.

I plucked a single fine filament from the ginseng's root and handed it over.

"Eat."

With that, I tore off a filament of my own and promptly chewed it down. A mere root-hair, yes — but it came from the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng, and the yin energy sealed within would serve as a fine protective wall.

"Store the ginseng's yin in your Mingmen point. Should the unexpected come, it will be the rope that pulls you back from death."

"You keep it yourself."

Yeom Gi-ha handed the root back to me. Most men would take even a sliver of the Snow Ginseng for the sake of their health alone — but him, I would have to call a man genuinely without desire. I, however, was not Yeom Gi-ha. I chewed down the returned root without ceremony. It would be a waste to discard something already plucked, would it not?

We were on our way to face the very thing Yakseon had solemnly warned me was dangerous — the Ten-Thousand-Year Supreme Blood Treasure. Preparations to this degree were the bare minimum.

"Let's go."

With that, I leapt down into the shaft, and I felt Yeom Gi-ha follow at my heels.

Shuuuuuung.

'Hm.'

The shaft was deeper than I had expected. I had been falling for well over twenty breaths — its depth was anything but ordinary.

'So this was not the proper entrance, then.'

Judging by the skill of the Yeomhwabang master and his followers, this could hardly be the official way in. The mercy of it was that ground was visible far below. Had there been magma down there instead, even my skill, having reached the Harmony Realm, would not have saved me from ruin.

Tap.

The instant the floor rushed up to meet me, I unfolded the Cloud-Treading Steps and kicked off the side wall—

Tuk.

—and touched down on solid ground, steady and sure. The poise of a seasoned martial artist, one might say.

But the Sovereign of Destruction was a different matter entirely.

Shuuuung— ooooong—

Yeom Gi-ha descended as upright as a man standing on solid ground — and then his falling figure began, ever so smoothly, to slow...

Softly.

His feet came to rest upon the floor without a whisper. A lightness art verging on the divine — that was the only way to describe it. But I had no time to stand there marveling at him.

"Looks like we came to the right place."

My gaze had been stolen by a brilliance that outshone even Yeom Gi-ha's prowess.

"So it seems."

A blazing orange crystal floated alone above a lake of furiously ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠boiling magma. No one alive could deny that this was the Ten-Thousand-Year Supreme Blood Treasure. My preparations for entering the Fifth Stage of the Yakseon Heart Decision were complete.

Blazing hot.

Not my state of mind at discovering the treasure — I meant the actual temperature of the cavern that cradled it. Yakseon's warning had been dead on: the heat of a cavern holding the Blood Treasure was more than any ordinary human could endure. Even circulating my qi, tempered to the Harmony Realm, and raising a barrier of body-guarding hard qi, I could not hold the heat back entirely. I set the yin energy stored in my Mingmen point circulating, and only then did my stifled breathing ease.

"Hoo—"

I glanced over at the Sovereign of Destruction. Unbowed by the raging heat, not a hair on him was out of place.

"Are you quite all right?"

"I am the very Sovereign of Destruction, Yeom Gi-ha, creator of the Fire Spirit Sky-Breaking Divine Art."

Right. It slipped my mind now and then, but this man was no scatterbrained old codger — he was a grandmaster contending for supremacy over the entire Jianghu.

"So how shall we do this?"

Yeom Gi-ha asked. His question was not difficult to parse — he meant to decide who would take the Blood Treasure first.

"Take it first, Alliance Leader."

I answered without a moment's hesitation.

"And why should you not go first?"

Truth be told, his objection was entirely fair. After all, it was I who had carried the knowledge of the Blood Treasure and guided us here. But...

"Is not the peace of the Jianghu and the Murim worth ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠more than my own safety?"

I meant every word. I could hardly claim to be as transcendent above worldly desire as the Sovereign of Destruction — but I could at least call myself a man who knew what came first.

"Do this before you take it."

I pinched off the tip of the Snow Ginseng and passed it to him. However completely he had created and mastered his Divine Art, even he would need a protective wall until his body fully accepted what was to come. The Snow Ginseng's energy would be that wall. And the reason I had broken off only a little was not that I begrudged the ginseng. The Sovereign of Destruction's aim was to subdue the Fire Spirit now swelling violently with the Blood Treasure's power — an excess of yin would only hinder him.

"Stay alive, Alliance Leader."

To me, handing over the ginseng was nothing out of the ordinary — no different, I suppose, from how the Sovereign of Destruction himself might act — yet he fixed me with a look I had never seen him wear.

"I hereby acknowledge you as my successor."

At the gravity in his voice — so unlike him — I gave a small laugh.

"Should you not have done that long ago?"

"You're right."

With those parting words, Yeom Gi-ha chewed the corner of the ginseng and shot like an arrow toward the Blood Treasure.

"There's much in there to beware of."

I do not know whether he heard me. Hurling himself into the magma, Yeom Gi-ha seized the Blood Treasure without a flicker of hesitation.

Struggle.

To live in the Jianghu and the Murim is to live in an unbroken chain of struggle. The world of the Murim is not kind enough to let anyone survive in ignorance of that fact, which is why most who walk its paths know it well.

The martial path is a struggle against oneself. To reach any greater height, one must defeat oneself, over and over, without end.

The martial path is a struggle against others, too. No one, I daresay, could deny that one of the martial arts' defining traits is that they are killing techniques. To some, the martial arts are a means of seeking the Dao — but all know that the transcendent power touched along that road walks hand in hand with destruction. That is why the orthodox sects bind themselves under stricter codes. And when an age of darkness descends — as in the Great Orthodox-Demonic War — the Jianghu becomes an arena of struggle where the only contest left is survival itself.

And I stood guard at that moment, witnessing a struggle fiercer than any I had ever seen in my life. It surpassed even the clash I had once beheld between the Sovereign of Destruction and the Martial Emperor — the absolute sovereigns of the Jianghu.

Ssssss—

Fwoooosh.

KWA-BOOM!

A struggle of fire against fire — that was the only way to name it. Watching the Ten-Thousand-Year Supreme Blood Treasure contend with the Sovereign of Destruction, Yeom Gi-ha, no other expression would come. Steam surged upward without pause, and a demon of flame swallowed the space whole, again and again.

BOOM!

The treasure's heat and the scorching yang force of the Fire Spirit Sky-Breaking Divine Art collided again and again. Yet I did not worry — for it appeared the Divine Art was holding the Blood Treasure's heat in check.

Under the pretext of standing guard, I committed everything Yeom Gi-ha did to my eyes and my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠memory. Everything he displayed was, in itself, martial learning of the highest ascent — an opportunity without precedent, I would have to call it.

'So this is the Fire Spirit Sky-Breaking Divine Art.'

I had no choice but to acknowledge it. Just as Yeom Gi-ha claimed, his art was a supreme study wholly worthy of the name "divine art."

Truthfully, I had known it long before. How could the Yakseon Heart Decision be the only art of ascension in all the world? I had long called Yakseon a grandmaster of the highest order, and I had placed the Sovereign of Destruction, Yeom Gi-ha, upon the very same plane. That was the world's judgment, and I agreed with it. Put another way, it meant the art the Sovereign of Destruction had created was every bit as wondrous as the Yakseon Heart Decision. Just as I had planned to claim the Blood Treasure by means of the Heart Decision, Yeom Gi-ha was claiming it through his Divine Art, by a method all his own.

A desperate battle that raged for the better part of two hours. Around the time the crimson aura wreathing the Sovereign of Destruction's body began to shift toward blue, he left the Blood Treasure behind and leapt back a great distance.

"Hoo—"

As our eyes met over his deep breath, the light in them blazed sharp and brilliant. I recognized it on instinct.

"My congratulations on your breakthrough."

He had not merely pressed down his Fire Spirit to buy back his life — he had smashed through yet another wall that had barred his way. A man already reckoned the finest under heaven had advanced one step further still. So the progress of the martial arts truly knows no end.

"Your turn now."

Yeom Gi-ha said.

"This time I'll stand guard for you, so hurry off and be done with it."

Taking his own advancement so entirely in stride — that, I would say, was the very bearing of a grandmaster.

"Understood."

The Blood Treasure had lengthened Yeom Gi-ha's lifeline and granted him a breakthrough — but that did not mean he had bested it. The proof stood right before me, still burning bright and clear. Once more I reminded myself how magnificent nature's heaven-sent bounty could be.

Step.

I stood before the Ten-Thousand-Year Supreme Blood Treasure.

Fwoosh.

Its furious heat wrapped around me as though to devour me whole.

"Ugh."

I honestly did not know whether it was right to call Yeom Gi-ha human, after dueling that thing head-on. I had to admit it: I could never become the Sovereign of Destruction, Yeom Gi-ha. But there was no need for despair. I had the Snow Ginseng's safeguard, and I had the Yakseon Heart Decision.

Crunch.

I chewed down the Snow Ginseng. A cold beyond anything the single root-hair had carried flooded into my body. The heat that had been pressing in on me across the distance died away — or more precisely, I could no longer feel it at all.

And when the Snow Ginseng's energy had completed its full circuit through my body—

Clunk.

My heart froze solid.

The feeling of one's heart stopping was not a pleasant one. Harmony Realm or Fifth Stage ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠or not, I knew full well that no one survives a stopped heart.

There was no time to delay. Without a moment's hesitation, I threw myself toward the magma that cradled the Blood Treasure.