Chapter 354
Chapter 354
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 354
Chapter Title: Scales
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Baek Hyang-a's retreating figure vanished from sight completely, but Dang Mujin and his companions stood frozen, watching her go without a single movement.
It wasn't for any grand reason.
The situation had just caught them off guard, and they had no idea what she intended to do.
One person among them stayed still for a slightly different reason. Unlike the others, who had grasped the gist of what Baek Hyang-a said, Hong Geolgae hadn't fully understood her words.
Of course, it wasn't because Hong Geolgae was stupid. It was simply that her story contained abstract and obscure elements.
A life led by one's own initiative, or one swept along by the currents.
Such concepts held no importance whatsoever to Hong Geolgae.
As long as he had a full belly, a warm bed, and a reason to laugh two or three times a day, that was a perfect day in Hong Geolgae's book.
Even someone as straightforward as Hong Geolgae could pick up on one key fact, though.
Ignoring Baek Hyang-a now and heading south would be a bad idea.
Hong Geolgae's question finally broke the long silence.
"So, what do we do now?"
As if time itself resumed its flow, Dang Mujin's group began to stir.
"Well, first we should figure out what she's planning to do."
When Dang Mujin replied, Hong Geolgae spoke up again.
"She told us to stop her. Doesn't that mean she's about to do something we need to block?"
A foolish question received a wise answer.
The unusual part was that, unlike usual, Hong Geolgae had asked the foolish one while Dang Mujin provided the wise response. Dang Mujin felt a subtle sense of defeat.
". . .Who doesn't know that? I mean we need to think about what exactly it is we have to stop."
"Oh, is that what you meant? Hmm."
The group fell into thought.
And all five of them arrived at a similar conclusion.
Baek Hyang-a, who had to endlessly kill others just to survive.
What she might do? A blood tribulation, most likely?
Dang Mujin asked Seolhwa.
"Seolhwa, does Baek Hyang-a have any reason to hold a grudge against the North Sea Ice Palace?"
"Excluding the Small Frost Pavilion Master and Great Wall Pavilion Master, nothing comes to mind . . . but I'm not sure."
There was no conviction in her voice.
Until just moments ago, she'd thought Baek Hyang-a was in league with those two pavilion masters.
Now that she knew it was a misunderstanding, confidently claiming to know Baek Hyang-a's feelings would be overconfidence, not assurance.
"You don't know, huh . . ."
But in Dang Mujin's view, Baek Hyang-a might unleash a blood tribulation without any grudge at all.
What she wanted wasn't revenge—it was to end her life on her own terms. And even if it wasn't a blood tribulation, it wouldn't change much.
The surest way to force someone to act was to present a binary choice.
Baek Hyang-a had already placed her own life on one side of the scale. On the other, she'd put something her opponent couldn't avoid, whatever it was.
For the first time, Baek Hyang-a had seized control of the situation, and atop that stage, she would end her life.
Her life hadn't fully belonged to her, but her death would be entirely her own.
Baek Hyang-a had found her own extreme solution.
Namgung Myeong grumbled.
"Whatever it is, Baek Hyang-a's clearly lost her mind. The problem is she's gone subtly insane. If she'd snapped completely like Elder Tohui, it'd be way easier to deal with, but this half-crazed state makes her actions unpredictable."
"That's true."
"And did you see that earlier?"
"See what?"
"The ice crystals sparkling around her. That had to be her drawing out her true origin qi, right?"
"Seems like it."
"That alone wasn't normal. I thought for sure she'd want to fight once she manifested it, but she just left. Does that even make sense? Sure, we're lucky she didn't, but still . . ."
Namgung Myeong shuddered mid-sentence.
In his eyes, Baek Hyang-a's enlightenment wasn't particularly profound. But the sheer volume of yin energy she possessed overwhelmed that meager insight.
In a way, she might be the most awkward opponent for an ordinary martial artist.
While others vied for victory through enlightenment and attainment, Baek Hyang-a would crush everything with yin energy so overwhelming that nothing else mattered.
Skilled weapon duels, cunning psychological warfare, experience forged on the edge of death—all would lose meaning before her. She wouldn't fight in ordinary ways.
Hyeon-gong, who had been listening quietly, muttered.
"Anyway, it worked out fine."
Namgung Myeong grumbled at that.
"Fine? How is this fine? It's gonna be a total mess . . ."
"No, you just said it yourself. She drew out her true origin qi."
True origin qi—or innate true qi—wasn't something just anyone could manifest.
Two major conditions were required to draw it out, or so it was said.
First: A personal variance existed, but on average, one needed attainment at the peak realm or higher.
Second: One had to abandon all lingering attachments to life.
At first glance, peak realm attainment seemed the biggest hurdle, but in truth, the second condition was far more problematic. Lingering attachments to life.
For any living person, letting go of that was no easy task.
Even in dire straits with no hope of survival, it held true.
If anything, the more precarious the situation, the harder it became to manifest true origin qi, or so many accounts claimed. The closer death loomed, the more fiercely the will to live burned.
Given that, grim rumors had swirled even during the last Orthodox-Sect Great War about true origin qi. Tales of some renowned hero from a righteous sect failing to manifest it, or some unorthodox martial artist botching the attempt.
And it was among the most humiliating experiences a martial artist could face.
To step forward vowing to sacrifice one's life for the group, or to accept death while slaying a mortal enemy, only to slink away in failure—it was tantamount to social death.
Manifesting true origin qi was difficult enough, but the inevitable tragic outcome made it worse. Those who succeeded all died.
The time someone who manifested true origin qi could cling to life was roughly half a day. That was the key point Hyeon-gong emphasized.
Gazing at the sky, Hyeon-gong said.
"She drew it out before the sun even reached midday, so she'll probably drop dead around sunset. Right?"
". . . Yeah, that makes sense."
"We'll trail her slowly, and when she keels over on her own, we grab the corpse and the manual, then have dinner."
It was undeniably sound logic. Yet something felt fundamentally off from the start.
". . . Is that okay?"
When Dang Mujin asked, Hyeon-gong scoffed.
"Of course it is. Did we threaten her to use true origin qi? No. She did it on her own. No warning, nothing. We couldn't even stop her. She probably got caught up in the dramatic mood, manifested it, then thought, 'Oops.'"
"Come on, no way . . ."
"It's gotta be. She finished her revenge, got all hyped up, manifested true origin qi, looked around, and realized we were the only ones there. But she doesn't have any real grudge against us, so she played up the atmosphere and left."
Hyeon-gong analyzed the situation in his own way.
A thought flickered in Dang Mujin's mind.
Baek Hyang-a might not hold grudges against others, but surely she did against Hyeon-gong?
On the day Mulangja died, hadn't Hyeon-gong used her for a hostage ploy?
The perpetrator himself seemed to have forgotten all about it.
Riding the momentum, Hyeon-gong continued.
"Besides, for all her grumbling, we're ultimately her benefactors. We helped her get revenge on the Small Frost Pavilion Master and Great Wall Pavilion Master."
Hong Geolgae, listening, nodded unwittingly. He'd fallen first to Hyeon-gong's silver tongue.
Hyeon-gong pointed north, where Baek Hyang-a had vanished.
"Saying this now, but that woman has no manners. It's like pulling someone from drowning and them demanding your bag as thanks. She should be bowing and saying, 'Thank you for helping with my revenge!' But no—'You ruined the taste of my revenge' or whatever. She's not a kid whining about side dishes. And after gleefully mutilating corpses, she complains? Who'd believe that?"
Every word rang true. As Dang Mujin started to nod, an unignorable point slipped in slyly.
"Anyway, we definitely bestowed a favor on her. Taking her corpse is fair game."
Dang Mujin's senses sharpened. Was this the real point all along?
Namgung Myeong, thinking the same, wore a subtle expression as he pointed it out.
"Corpse? Is it right for us to take Baek Hyang-a's corpse . . .? I don't think so . . ."
Baek Hyang-a's life was tied to three places: the Je Won Baek Clan, the Kunlun Sect, and the North Sea Ice Palace.
The most natural end would be burial with the Je Won Baek Clan. Weren't people meant to be buried where they were born?
The Kunlun Sect was a decent alternative too. It was her second home, filled with memories of her master. In fact, many martial artists chose burial near their sect over their hometown.
Snatching the corpse out of nowhere? Utterly incomprehensible.
Hyeon-gong thumped his chest in exasperation.
"Taking the corpse doesn't sound right, but it's not weird or malicious. Do I look like some villain plotting to misuse it? I just want to build her a grave at the North Sea Ice Palace."
Why skip the Je Won Baek Clan or Kunlun Sect for a frozen grave in the North Sea Ice Palace?
Dang Mujin and the others eyed Hyeon-gong suspiciously.
"Think about it. What did she say at the end? She's heading to the North Sea Ice Palace. Told us to stop her. Even knowing she'll die, she wants to go there. We should respect the deceased's wishes for something like a gravesite."
In Hyeon-gong's mind, Baek Hyang-a was already dead.
If anything, she'd be an exceedingly kind and considerate corpse.
One that walked to her grave under her own power, sparing the carriers any fatigue.
Of course, Hyeon-gong's true motive wasn't honoring her wishes.
Bringing her corpse to the North Sea Ice Palace would let him boast to its people that he'd greatly aided Seolhwa in resolving the issue.
As a bonus, he could make a good impression on his father-in-law and in-laws.
'How many brothers- and sisters-in-law did she say . . .? Maybe bring gifts?'
Namgung Myeong asked suspiciously.
"Uh . . . just checking. You're not planning to use the corpse for something weird, right? Not that I think you're that kind of guy, but . . ."
If he truly didn't suspect, he wouldn't have asked.
And it wasn't baseless suspicion. It pierced the heart of the matter.
From the moment he'd heard about the Small Frost Pavilion Master, Hyeon-gong had pondered ways to use Baek Hyang-a's corpse.
But deeming himself an upright righteous sect martial artist, he had no intention of carving it up like the pavilion masters.
"As if! Even vile fiends hesitate to defile a corpse. I'll honor her dying wish and build a tomb at the Ice Palace. On Elder Yeongbo's title, I'll ensure no one touches her remains!"
Yet pure energies gathered together often birthed spirit medicines.
The odds were high that a spirit herb brimming with immense yin energy would sprout atop Baek Hyang-a's grave.
Hyeon-gong had no plans to touch the corpse itself, but claiming that herb might—just barely—be acceptable.
If none grew, he could count it as a good deed befitting a Daoist.
He also couldn't be sure the Kunlun Sect would welcome her corpse. Elder Sanggwal walked a different path from Mulangja.
Nor was an unattended grave back with the Je Won Baek Clan a great outcome in his eyes. He was concerned for her, in his own way.
His friends' thoughts didn't reach that far, of course.
They just saw it as Hyeon-gong trying to look cool in front of Seolhwa.
Hyeon-gong stood and urged his friends along.
"Let's get going."
"Already?"
"She's a bit rude, but she's lived a troubled life. Better someone watches her final moments than her being found dead later, right? The North Sea Ice Palace Lord's daughter, next Kunlun Sect leader, Nangong family head, Dang family head, and a sturdy beggar seeing her off—that's a pretty lavish end."
Noble sentiments, for Hyeon-gong.
Dang Mujin's group followed at a discreet distance.
*
Thus, the day waned.
"She still looks fine."
"We'll be hauling the corpse come morning. Anyway . . . let's sleep."
Another day passed.
"When's she gonna die?"
"Tonight for sure. Maybe camp closer? So we can rush when she gasps her last . . ."
Then the third morning dawned.
Baek Hyang-a showed no signs of dying.
She simply pressed north, still enveloped in sparkling white ice crystals.
The group's mood turned gravely serious.