Rescue (3)

178. Rescue (3)

I'd died once before, but I truly didn't want to die now. Unlike my past life, where I'd had no lingering attachments, the present and future of this life were things I could never give up.

I was no martial hero. When I'd suppressed bandits at the Baek Clan Estate, when I'd fought anyone after gaining the strength of the Four Heroes of Dong-o, the truth was that I'd always drawn my sword and fought only when I was in a perfectly advantageous position. Now, faced with an unknown entity that had plunged the Martial World into despair a hundred years ago and left even the greatest living masters utterly helpless, my trained legs felt as though they might give way.

—Reverend, you're an heir of the Four Heroes of Dong-o. We once saved the world. An heir of ours ought to resolve something like this with ease.—

The Moon Immortal spoke to me once we'd left the Martial Alliance. By nature, they were heroes. Occasionally they acted like befuddled old men, but their essence was that of heroes who'd laid down their lives to save the world.

—Honestly, I really want to run. A monster that Martial Aura can't affect? I'll assess the situation, quickly rescue Hyeon-gang or whoever, and then get out. I have absolutely no intention of dying while fighting a jiangshi.—

—You're still young—far too young to offer up your life. But think about it. If jiangshi are unleashed upon the world, thousands and tens of thousands of children far younger than you, children like Cho-ryeong, will be sacrificed.—

Geo Am, too, spoke to me in a solemn voice.

—Yeongmok. You are a Taoist. A true Taoist, not a blade-swinger like me. The very reason a Taoist exists is to set right beings that defy reason and bring peace to the world.—

Even Heosan shared the same opinion. What were these old men talking about? How on earth was I supposed to beat a jiangshi?

—Yeongmok. I know I have no right to ask this of you, but Yeongsan Sect is the successor of Maoshan Sect. We cannot tolerate in this era the jiangshi that our ancestral masters risked their lives to defeat.—

Hwangseong addressed me in a trembling voice.

—If you're afraid, it's all right to step back. When a threat descends upon the world, a hero will emerge somewhere. The Central Plains had endured for thousands of years in that fashion.—

The Flame Emperor was the only one who seemed to counsel retreat. Yet his dream was for me to become an heir greater than the Four Heroes of Dong-o themselves. In other words, he hoped that the hero said to appear someday would be me. Could I truly turn my back on the wish of the Flame Emperor, who was both my benefactor and my teacher?

—Ah, damn it. You elders are heroes, so please don't expect the same from a common nobody like me. I'll try to engage them, but if it gets dangerous, I'll bolt immediately. If I die here, the Martial Alliance won't even erect a stele for Yeongsan Sect, and Yeongsan Sect will end up beggars again.

—Founding Master. Since the old nullification method from Maoshan times seems to be useless now, if we encounter the jiangshi, please find a new nullification method as fast as you can.—

Honestly, I really didn't want to fight. But in front of the Four Heroes of Dong-o who'd raised me, and Hwangseong, Yeongsan Sect's founding master, I simply couldn't bring myself to say that I was too scared to do it.

The jiangshi. I honestly couldn't get a fix on it. In the films I'd seen in my past life, it had been the Qing-era uniform and hat—a ghost with arms stretched straight out in front, hopping stiffly forward. But this was the Ming era. The Qing dynasty hadn't even arrived yet. Its outward appearance alone was probably an entity entirely different from what I expected. The facts I knew were these: it was made using a corpse, a demonic creature wrought by man that obeyed only its sorcerer's commands. At this point, since the Martial Aura of Hyeon-gang, the era's strongest martial artist, couldn't even affect it, it was physically invincible. If Maoshan's nullification method was useless, the only option was to kill the sorcerer. But would that sorcerer actually show himself brazenly on the field? If he did, the Blood Sect Rebellion of the past would have ended quickly and easily.

I really was going nuts. This goddamn worldview. If this were a proper wuxia-style world, it'd only produce superhumans. But this—this was just a necromancer and undead out of some fantasy world.

Calm down and think. Just as Maoshan had done in the past, there had to be a method of nullification. Nothing in the world was absolutely flawless. Even that omniscient and omnipotent demon had needed to put forward a contractor—me—to destroy the world. That reminded me. The demon had explicitly said the world operated according to laws. A law by which jiangshi could be brought down. What could it be?

In some wuxia novels I'd read in my past life, Shaolin's demon-subjugation martial arts had appeared as a natural counter. But here, even the Shaolin Abbot's direct disciple, Venerable Hyesang, had been completely helpless against it, so in this world, that approach wouldn't work. Thinking about it in simple terms, since a jiangshi was undead, holy light or sacred magic would probably be the answer. But there was no way I'd know anything about that. Ah... sometimes, depending on the world's rules, the flame attribute was effective against undead, wasn't it? Burning corpses in cremation was an ancient human custom, after all. The Flame Emperor's Flame Blossom Art. The more I thought about it, the art's lineage had been severed in the Central Plains before the Blood Sect Rebellion. The jiangshi had prided itself on invincibility against the attacks of all manner of martial artists, but was it truly invincible even against Flame Aura?

And one more thing. The living couldn't destroy the dead, but the dead could destroy the dead. I felt sure I'd seen a novel of that kind, too. If that were possible, would the Four Heroes' attacks actually work? If neither approach worked, then first I'd just rescue Hyeon-gang and flee, then pin my hopes on the demon's gift of one random ability per hundred kills, and slaughter hundreds—the Great Sun Association, the Green Forest, whoever—until holy magic was drawn.

Now I could sense a presence in the distance. This wasn't a battle—it was one-sided slaughter. The spot the Drunken Beggar had told me about was still a little farther off. It seemed the rescue force had been caught in an enemy ambush and surrounded just ahead of this point.

Could I really do it?

When I finally arrived at the place, pandemonium had already erupted. Over a hundred martial artists in a motley of martial uniforms. Some were first-rate martial artists who looked to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be elders of their respective sects, but the martial artists gathered at the Martial Alliance now were either people around my age who'd been on their way to the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, or second-stringers meant to escort them. There were entities surrounding them. The jiangshi, unlike what I'd imagined, wore sackcloth-like black robes, their hands and faces completely black with rot.

This was cheating. The basic rule for corpses like zombies and jiangshi was that they moved slowly, yet these jiangshi crawled faster than most martial artists using lightness skills. The martial artists had been completely surrounded by monsters against which neither Sword Qi nor Martial Aura worked. They struggled to form defensive formations by sect, but were cut down helplessly, like tofu carved apart beneath a knife.

My heart quaked, but there was no turning back now. I sent out the Four Heroes as always, begging them for their mightiest blows, but even Geo Am's Mount Tai Strike, which could shatter Mount Tai itself, merely knocked a jiangshi over with a clang. Even the elaborate swordplay of the Moon Immortal, which packed hundreds of variations into a single path, couldn't so much as scratch the skin. Heosan's Taiji Wisdom Sword, at least, managed to receive the jiangshi's attacks and throw its stance off balance. In the end, not even the power of the dead could oppose the jiangshi. The Flame Emperor's Flame Aura, which I'd pinned hopes on, likewise merely pushed the jiangshi backward, just like the other heroes' attacks.

As if sensing my sudden intrusion, several jiangshi abruptly rushed at me. The four jiangshi assailed me with bestial movements, but their offense, compared to their prodigious defense, was less impressive than I'd expected. Fundamentally, the field of martial arts had developed over thousands of years with movements optimized for bipedal humans. I didn't know the principles behind a jiangshi's actions, but crawling on all fours in human shape like that and fighting like a beast might look terrifying, but it was actually incredibly inefficient.

When the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Four Heroes rushed in and checked the jiangshi, the creatures were pushed backward. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Neither side could defeat the other: we could not destroy them, and they could not harm me. While this odd standoff continued, the attacks paused, and a few martial artists who'd caught their breath saw me and shouted.

"It's Yeongmok! It's Yeongsan Sect's Yeongmok!"

"Heavens! Four qi-guided swords wreathed in Martial Aura—it was truly real?!"

"Then... does that mean we've survived?"

"Good Lord. Even such fearsome Martial Aura can't bring them down? How on earth did the martial artists of a century ago overcome the Blood Sect Rebellion?"

No, I was the one who wanted to ask. Jiangshi were invincible, but first-rate masters capable of using Martial Aura could at least hold them down as we were doing now, even if they couldn't destroy them. There must have been hundreds of first-rate masters a century ago. Could those masters not have occupied the jiangshi while hundreds of thousands of second- and third-rate martial artists swarmed the Blood Cult and smashed it apart? But the spectators showed me how foolish that thought was.

"Good Lord. To sustain four qi-guided swords radiating Martial Aura for so long—how colossal is his internal energy?!"

"Must be around ten gapja, wouldn't you say?"

The martial artists were utterly aghast. Ah... so that was it. You could block a jiangshi with Martial Aura, but a human's internal energy wasn't limitless like the jiangshi's. My own internal energy, having just reached first-rate, was among the lowest among first-rate martial artists, and because the energy consumption of Flame Aura was high, I could maintain Martial Aura at full power for barely five minutes. In a duel using Martial Aura, though, five minutes was more than enough time to crush the opponent thoroughly, and even for another first-rate master, maintaining Martial Aura for more than ten minutes was probably impossible except by the most extreme measures. Typically, Martial Aura was a finishing technique for short decisive battles like that—it wasn't a technique suited for dealing with endlessly charging jiangshi.

For now, thanks to there being four jiangshi and the Four Heroes' internal energy being infinite, we did seem locked in a stalemate. But how was I supposed to handle this? This wasn't the place the Drunken Beggar had informed me about. I looked around, but Hyeon-gang was nowhere to be seen. If I didn't want to make Master grieve, I needed to hurry and rescue Hyeon-gang, yet here I was with my feet tied down by jiangshi.

"Those of you for whom Martial Aura is impossible, return to the Alliance at once! And those martial artists who've attained first-rate, quickly recover your energy and aid this young master!"

A Taoist shouted at the martial artists, who'd been losing their wits after the successive appearances of entities entirely beyond the common sense of the Martial World—first the jiangshi, then me. Judging by his robes, he was a Mount Hua Taoist. The old man, whose brows were now snow-white, loosed a lion's roar before settling into an energy circulation stance. After that, the leaders from each sect, who appeared to be roughly second-rate, hurriedly retreated in accordance with the Mount Hua Taoist's orders. That left only six people from the original crowd of over a hundred martial artists.

Mount Hua. Wudang. Shaolin. These were the absolute peak sects of the Martial World, teeming with first-rate masters, so I had no idea who those ones were. The other two, at least, I recognized. Tang Woo of the Sichuan Tang Clan, whom I'd seen last time. And the Beggars' Sect's Heroic Beggar, whom I'd seen earlier in the day. The last one was a Murong Clan elder who vaguely resembled Murong Hyeok-jung.

"Are you truly all right? You've been maintaining four streams of Sword Aura for a full tea interval now."

Heroic Beggar spoke to me with a worried face before he settled into his own energy circulation.

"I'm fine for now, but this is just—there's no answer to it, is there?"

"Bear with it a little longer. We'll help, Tang Woo and I."

The old Mount Hua Taoist, who seemed brimming with hot-blooded fervor, spoke up, but frankly, even if those great masters joined the fight here, I couldn't see an answer. I'd been scared to death, but I'd barely mustered the courage to throw myself in, and now this stalemate that was neither victory nor defeat. What was I supposed to do?

Then, in that moment, a voice of hope and salvation rang out.

—Found it. Yeongmok. So that's how it is. Blood Cult. Those bastards. Unable to get rid of the weak point, so they moved it from where it was last time.—

Had Yeongsan Sect's founding master Hwangseong ever felt so reassuring? The martial artists of a hundred years ago who'd seen a Maoshan Taoist must have felt the same as me. Maoshan had solved the jiangshi for them when even great sects like Shaolin and Wudang could produce no answer, and right now, in this moment, Hwangseong felt far greater than even the Four Heroes of Dong-o.

—Then what must be done?—

—The tricky part is, a talisman must be made. I need to create a talisman generated from the Wind trigram and affix it near the Spirit Gate acupoint. The sons of bitches. Last time, a Water trigram talisman had to be affixed near the Bong-an acupoint, but they've subtly shifted the position of the spell structure.—

The Wind Trigram or Water Trigram didn't matter to me, but if Hwangseong's explanation was correct, this would be more troublesome than before. The Bong-an Acupoint was on the back, so one could somehow circle behind a jiangshi and attach the talisman relatively easily. The Spirit Gate Acupoint, however, was on the abdomen, meaning the talisman had to be affixed from the front, which drastically increased the difficulty. Still, at least we had found a nullification method. During the previous Blood Cult Rebellion, tens of thousands of martial artists had died before this method was discovered, so by that measure, this was an enormous achievement.

While I essentially did nothing and simply watched the Four Heroes' fight with the jiangshi from a distance, the six old masters finally finished recovering their energy and rose. First-rate masters indeed. Their energy circulation was damned fast.

"Now then, we'll help as well."

The fiery-eyed Mount Hua Taoist spoke. He was probably the most hot-blooded man I'd ever seen among martial artists.

"I'll pour out what strength I have, but whether it'll be of any help, I can't say."

The Murong Clan elder who resembled Murong Hyeok-jung. He was probably the Clan Head's younger brother, Elder Murong Guk, who'd been stationed at the Alliance for decades, wasn't he? The Wudang Taoist suddenly moved. Using flowing footwork, he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠circled behind a jiangshi and tried to affix a talisman from his robes, but as expected, it had no effect.

"As expected, no effect. This is a matter for lamentation. We've repeated the same mistake. In the past, Maoshan rescued the Martial World when it had forgotten the Taoist arts. The Blood Cult didn't forget what happened a century ago and advanced their sorcery, but who in the present-day Martial World is researching sorcery?"

The Wudang Taoist wore an expression of deep lamentation. Fortunately, we'd found the solution, but I fervently shared his sentiment. It seemed humans truly were foolish creatures, bound to repeat the same mistakes in any era.