Chapter 94
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 94
Chapter Title: Guwoongdo
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Guwoongdo.
A nickname coined by sailors, this island connected to Gwijeol Gorge featured a striking stone statue resembling a bear, radiating the mysteries of nature.
Guwoongdo was ringed by uncharted isles, its approach made treacherous by jagged rocks of every size and capricious currents.
Rustle.
Yet now, the name "uninhabited island" rang hollow amid traces of human hands everywhere.
The barren terrain was no place for habitation by any stretch, a stark reminder of the martial artists' singular purpose.
Boom!
One such warrior, bound by that shared goal, slammed into a massive tree, clutching his chest.
"Kuhk!"
"Speak."
Seo Mun-ha interrogated the man with calm indifference.
"Where's the secret vault? What happened to those who entered it?"
He was a guide Seo Mun-ha had seized after slipping from the battlefield.
Unlucky among many, but the blue emblem marked him as a Murim Alliance squad leader.
"Wh-what... are you..."
In other words, he stood out.
"People's thoughts tend to run along similar lines."
Seo Mun-ha, easing his chokehold just enough, explained plainly.
"Anchorage spots for junks around here are fixed. If you've been watching and blocking them all this time, the goal's obvious, no?"
The resident warriors and skirmishes on Guwoongdo proved it.
"And you haven't made off with Shin Tu's loot yet, have you?"
Stealing from the unrivaled Cheok An Shin Tu? Expected, really.
"Y-you... who the hell are you?! Murim Alliance?!"
One moment thrusting a blade, now questioning identities to stall—the warrior flicked his eyes slyly.
No special insignia on the junk, nor emblems on Seo Mun-ha and his crew.
"Or... the authorities, finally?!"
Even the escort agency could claim government protection.
Rustle.
That was when.
"No sign of pursuit."
A man in a prominent blue hero's cape pointed down the rear path.
"Too soon to let our guard down, but they might be too tied up to bother with us."
Neung Jo-un, who had trailed Baek Ri-seol with a handful of retainers.
"I see."
Seo Mun-ha relayed it straight to the Cheolmu Fortress warrior.
Stalling was pointless; he'd seen through the ploy ages ago.
"...Hmph."
Shifting tack, the warrior sneered at their moves.
"Go on then—what'll you do?"
"Hm?"
"Futile either way. Whatever path you take, it's useless."
Pretending to divine their fate.
"In the end, all you can do is wait like us...?"
His trailing words hung as horror flooded his eyes.
Drip. Drip.
No time for pain—flesh sloughed off.
"That's not yours to decide."
Seo Mun-ha slammed his suddenly drawn sword into the earth.
"Though waiting isn't all bad."
The warrior's blood trickled slowly down the upright blade.
"You'll keep me company."
"Kuaaaak!"
Pressing close, Seo Mun-ha sealed his meridian and whispered low.
"Hobby aside, I hope you enjoy it."
The Embroidered Uniform Guard's Northern Pacification Division oversaw the Edict Prison for heinous criminals—interrogation was second nature.
"Might slip up; it's been a while."
No flashy names like Bone-Splitting Sinew-Twist or Muscle-Cleaving Bone-Shift.
"Poor control? No worries. Limbs drop off, my tailor's ex-seamstress—she'll stitch 'em neat. Results guaranteed."
Chills racing his spine, the warrior gaped mutely.
"Won't work quite like before, mind you."
Coldly, Seo Mun-ha reached out.
"I'll talk! Anything—everything!"
Finding the entrance proved straightforward enough.
"He was telling the truth."
The Cheolmu Fortress warrior had spurred their steps; his confession shaved off trial and error.
"Didn't seem the tough type."
Seo Mun-ha shrugged at Baek Ri-seol's curt assessment.
Guwoongdo's scale meant unreachable spots were few.
"You weren't serious, were you?"
Baek Ri-seol replayed his performance.
Too unnerving to call a mere bluff—even from her vantage.
Low voice, yet her senses outstripped most warriors'; conversely, threats spared legs and such—calculated, utterly inscrutable.
"Who knows."
Flashing an enigmatic smile, Seo Mun-ha led on.
"Careful, Miss Baek."
Ignoring the fainted Cheolmu man, Gwijeol Gorge reeked of peril from the mouth.
Plop.
As warned—dangers lurking in footfall-dead silence, punctuated by falling droplets.
Drip.
Seo Mun-ha led a dozen-odd warriors, hunched low, probing the gorge.
Drip.
Gu Chil fared no better.
"Hup!"
Sudden chill on his shoulder—he clapped a hand over his mouth in shock.
Brawny frame, badge of grit through ordeals, somehow shrunken now.
Seo Mun-ha, Gu Chil, Baek Ri-seol, Neung Jo-un, and both clans' warriors scanned left-right under one's lead.
"Incredible..."
Baek Ri-seol shattered the hush; nods rippled agreement.
Faint glows studding the thorn-like ceiling—Gwijeol Gorge brimmed with enigma.
"Formed ages ago, looks like."
Seo Mun-ha noted the pillars lining the path.
Stalagmites, millennia in the making.
'Yet traces of prior probes...'
Shoving the name aside, even faint bootprints eluded him.
More like shadowing forerunners' steps.
Through thicket, a cramped gap twixt sheer rock and vines; a three-meter crawl spat them into a cavern vast for dozens.
'That must've drawn the scouts.'
Unslowed, Seo Mun-ha eyed the towering roof.
No torches needed—night pearls and luminous stones scattered erratic gleam within.
High-embedded lights mismatched the source, mining a pity-impossible chore.
Groooowl—
Odd air thickened; eerie drone swelled.
Dismissing whimsy, he sensed deep cave bowels.
Halt.
Narrow fork—he halted the group, gauging directions.
"Hold up."
Nothing fancy.
Confession as compass, qi pulses fired repeatedly; echoes charted true path.
"...This way."
Baek Ri-seol sidled near.
"Something off?"
Every quirk noted, newcomer or not.
"Feels wrong."
"Wrong how?"
No fights faced, senses sharp unlike outer chaos; bearings held.
Senses true, they'd plunged steadily downward.
"Water rises here normally."
Down. Deeper down.
"This deep..."
Thick walls beyond brimmed brine; pools linked abyssal seas.
"Whole gorge seems one big formation."
Water flows down, cycles up—nature's law.
Arrays inverted such; deployed openly, he'd have clocked it.
'Not manmade.'
No array, however sly, fooled his qi sense so utterly.
"A formation..."
Shadows crossed Baek Ri-seol's face.
"You know it?"
"Bits. Nothing to brag."
"Might return with bones only..."
Seo Mun-ha swept the environs again.
"Us first, though."
Chill thinning air? No illusion.
"Y-young master! Now what?!"
Gu Chil's leap voiced the dread; Seo Mun-ha's poise unshaken.
"Eyes peeled—who knows what jumps out."
Array spared flesh direct poison, thankfully.
'Stronger pull changes that.'
Loosening tension with jest.
"Heard sunken wrecks litter nearby waters."
Froze them deeper.
"Ghosts about, maybe."
Joking.
Warriors honed by grueling drills, reason reigned differences be damned.
'Least not known faces.'
Seo Mun-ha's smirk aside—all ill at ease.
Grip.
Sealed dark, fore and aft blocked—plenty eerie.
"Miss Baek?"
Even her, spooked.
"N-no!"
Shaking denial.
"Cold! That's it!"
Clutched his hem, unyielding.
"Y-yes..."
"..."
Group tightened step-by-cautious-step, bearing unease undeterred.
Ominous, yes—but array alone scarce explained the vanished.
Seo Mun-ha pondered Cheok An Shin Tu's vault and its prisoners ahead.
Truth: adept at divination arrays and mechanisms.
Strides unfaltering from Embroidered Uniform Guard days—shadier officials obsessed over traps and formations.
Much to conceal; mechanisms betrayed none, unlike men.
Palace rife with plots.
Eunuch-led nobles clashed with Capital's Ten Houses nonstop; court intrigues rivaled jianghu's fiercest.
Half a lifetime tempered therein.
Formation mastery bred broad prowess.
Halt.
Like now.
"Wh-what, Seo Mun young master?"
Sudden shrill whistle sliced air.
Swoosh!
Reflex-slap sent it clattering; the shaft bounced low.
Plop.
Bisected shadow: shaft bare of fletch.
"Huh?!"
Warriors clocked the shift late.
Blackened soil screamed poison; first a warning—now a tracer arced anew.
Sweeeeep!
Erratic path, shadow speared Baek Ri-seol's brow gap.
'Ah...'
Seo Mun-ha snagged the streaking bolt mid-her delay.
Grab.
Murmured soft.
"Mechanism."
Dangling from callused grip, her bunny-wide eyes heralded more.
"Watch out."
His cue unleashed shadows 'round the Hyeoncheon Squad and crew.
"Ack?!"
Downpour began.
"Dodge!"
Everywhen.
"From where?!"
Unpracticed, reactions lagged; Divine Sword and Hyeoncheon squads reeled.
"No flailing—patterns fixed."
Leisurely words belying frenzy—shielding men, hands blurred.
Pak! Pak-pak! Pakat!
Endless barrage, arrow-storm unrelenting—hands too few, plain.
Shink.
Drawing steel—
'Sword Veil?'
Chill whipped a circuit 'round them, walling off.
"Rain Cloud Snow Maneuver stance."
Source plain; subsiding sheets, Baek Ri-seol resheathed.
"Not quite the name, but thanks back there."
Frail mask shed.
Fwoosh.
Cavern gloom blazed bright an instant.
"Not done yet."
Their vista: bleached bones amid vast crimson carnage.