Rescue (6)

181. Rescue (6)

In a fight, what mattered most? Every martial artist would answer differently, but as for me, I thought it was landing the first hit. Some martial artists prioritized observing their opponent, but landing the first hit made that observation a whole lot easier anyway. Venerable Hye-gwang of Shaolin—who looked like a gangster himself—must have felt the same. He shot toward Goshifa Lama like a streak of pure white light, but Goshifa Lama merely twisted his body and hooked a leg, sending Venerable Hye-gwang hurtling through the air.

Countless subtleties were hidden in that simple leg hook. Venerable Hye-gwang crashed to the ground, coughing up a handful of blood as if he had been struck squarely by a Mount Tai Strike, and collapsed where he fell. The skill Hye-gwang had just shown was on a completely different level from the elders of the Peng Clan. He had been a formidable master even by Shaolin's standards, the lodestar of the martial world, yet Goshifa Lama had brought him down in a single instant without even using a weapon, without even using his hands. Confronted with that martial prowess, Hyeon-gang and I, and everyone with us, could only freeze where we stood. Unlike us, who had braced ourselves in maximum vigilance for the follow-up attack, Goshifa Lama did not even look at us.

"Child. Go back now. I am truly grateful that you have given me another chance at the work I could not finish in life, but I am not of your Blood Cult, and I will not move alongside you."

Goshifa Lama spoke to the Blood Cult Leader with a face as warm as if he were addressing his own granddaughter. The Blood Cult Leader's decades-long ambition to resurrect the previous cult leader had been utterly ruined, and on top of that, she had revived Goshifa Lama, whose infamy exceeded even the Blood Cult's. Her mind frozen by the situation, she simply stared blankly at the Lama before finally speaking forcefully.

"What do you mean by that? You are not a follower of this cult, that is true, but I believed the work you intend to do henceforth would be the same as ours?"

"You are right. In life, my strength was insufficient, and it was a task I could not accomplish. But now that I have awakened, there is only one thing I must do.

"Annihilate the martial world of the Central Plains. I will destroy the Orthodox Faction and the Unorthodox Faction alike. If the Imperial Household comes at me, I shall naturally answer them in battle. The first shall be the Martial Alliance."

"Then why will you not join us? Do we not share the same purpose?"

Goshifa Lama was not the former Blood Cult Leader, but he was, without exaggeration, the mightiest master since ancient times. The Medical Immortal's plan had gone awry, yet she spoke to him desperately, hoping to settle for a chicken instead of a pheasant—no, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to catch a phoenix instead of a pheasant.

"Even while bound within the dagger, I could sense my surroundings. Your Blood Cult and I resemble each other greatly. These loathsome Han Chinese of the Central Plains. Their very existence kindles an unbearable fury within me. But there is one point on which we differ. I have no future, and you do."

"A... a future?"

"Only revenge remains for me. Even if I burn the whole of the Central Plains to ash and destroy the Ming Imperial Family, I can never bring back a single one of my precious people. But you are ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠different, are you not? Is the end of your purpose not revenge, but to dye the entire Central Plains in the colors of your doctrine? I will carry out the revenge. I will clear the field by fire; planting the seeds will be your role. I understand, of course, your desire to stand by and watch the Central Plains burn, but if you were to stay at my side and suffer grave injury, your cult's hundred-year grand design would come to nothing."

The Lama's voice was benevolent and warm. Fuck. Why did the conversation between Final Bosses 1 and 2 sound like a neighborhood girl talking to her grandfather? And those gentle-sounding words contained sheer mad lunacy. Spread the Blood Cult across the Central Plains? That genuine psycho cult that worshiped the evil god Angra Mainyu? I would rather follow the original Zoroastrian offshoot, the Demonic Cult that was the Blood Cult's origin, and be done with it.

—The man's a madman! A Lama monk who took refuge in Tibetan Buddhism telling them to spread the Blood Cult in the Central Plains? Did he turn into some kind of evil spirit after he died?—

Geo Am's voice rang out in agitation.

—He must hate the Central Plains that much. Our era was after the fall of the Song Dynasty, under the Mongol Yuan Dynasty. I have no idea where this man's boundless hatred for the Han Chinese of the Central Plains even came from.—

Heosan was strangely calm. Yet even he concealed tremendous excitement as he faced the nemesis he had given his life to stop.

"I understand. Thank you, Lama. Our cult will do what it must. I wish you fortune in battle. You are currently in the state of a Heavenly Jiangshi. Qi circulation and meals are both impossible, but if you kill humans and absorb their death qi, you can move without limit."

"Then I shall be able to move until the very day every last martial artist of the Central Plains is exterminated. Go now. Though it was inside a dagger, the time I spent with you was truly pleasant."

With a poignant and cool farewell that made them seem, somehow, like the protagonists of this story, Medical Immortal turned her back and vanished once more beneath the dark sky. I wanted to launch a sword at that bitch right now, but making an opening like that in front of Goshifa Lama, an absolute powerhouse, was probably impossible.

"Shaolin has already fallen. Wudang and Mount Hua, Murong and Tang, Beggars' Sect and Mount Tai, was it?"

Goshifa Lama spoke, glancing casually at us. Whether we liked it or not, a life-or-death battle against him was about to begin here. Hyeon-gang had already started circulating his qi despite the shocking situation; to buy him even a little time, I took a step forward and spoke.

"No. Not Mount Tai. The Yeongsan Sect."

"Yeongsan? I have never heard of it. A newly founded sect? Interesting. I do not know where it hails from, but it is a sect capable of raising a child like you to the first-rate realm. Has Mount Tai fallen and been absorbed into Yeongsan?"

Had the Mount Tai Strike from earlier made him think I was a Mount Tai martial artist?

"It is new, that's true. It branched off from Maoshan after the Blood Cult Rebellion ended. Still, I'm a little disappointed you don't know Yeongsan. Yeongsan is very close to Dong-o Peak."

Dong-o Peak—the place where he had fallen and the Four Heroes had been immortalized as legends, and the place where I had gained my power. The moment that name left my mouth, a tremendous surge of true qi swirled around him.

"Though you are a child, you know a great deal. Very well. The youngest one, you, stepping forward—it is to buy recovery time for the old men behind you, is it not? I shall give you that time. In exchange, answer my questions. Seeing that Taoist over there, Heosan's Wudang seems still firmly intact. What became of Geo Am's Mount Tai?"

Was he, too, curious about what had become of his nemesis afterward? Or was he deciding the order in which he would smash us to pieces from here on out? Either way, if he was giving me time, I welcomed it.

"Mount Tai is in an ambiguous state. After Layman Geo Am died, their ultimate techniques were lost, and on top of that, they suffered the heaviest damage during the Blood Cult Rebellion. Right now, they've been completely pushed out of the Nine Schools."

"How like the filthy Central Plains. When a man sacrifices himself for the world, all should rightfully come to his aid, yet they dragged him out of the Nine Schools like jackals scavenging a corpse. I am curious what expression Geo Am would wear if he knew."

"He wouldn't be as surprised as he'd be to see you resurrected."

Hyeon-gang and the other martial artists were nearly done circulating their qi. Once the fighting started, several of our allies would be rendered unable to fight in an instant. That was why, from the very start, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠we had no choice but for everyone to launch a combined assault against him simultaneously, with maximum force.

"Our time is nearly up. Young martial artist of Yeongsan. Our brief conversation was pleasant. I do not know why you learned the Mount Tai Strike, but since you have inherited Geo Am's true transmission, you cannot avert your eyes from your bond with me. Show me a bearing worthy of a martial artist."

"It isn't only Layman Geo Am, though. It's a little funny to say this to a monk, but the ties are more tangled than I expected."

It was beginning. Since obtaining the Four Heroes of Dong-o, I had never once experienced a desperate, hopeless battle. But Goshifa Lama before my eyes was a match for all four heroes combined, and unlike the Four Heroes, who were without physical bodies, he possessed the body of a jiangshi. He existed, literally, in a realm of the impossible, one we could not defeat. His lightness skill would naturally be far faster than mine, too. Escape had been impossible from the start.

All four heroes enveloped themselves in their respective Martial Auras and flew at Goshifa Lama. No matter how unflappable he was, he could hardly have expected to witness the martial arts of all Four Heroes again, and he showed a fair degree of discomposure. But that was as far as it went. Though his movements were unhurried, he snatched up the Great Sun Association Leader's greatsword faster than the Four Heroes and met their combined assault head-on. He was not like that jiangshi from before. Unlike a jiangshi that simply trusted its durability and charged like a beast, his defense was also cheat-level, yet he faced the Four Heroes calmly, as the legendary martial artist he was.

It was the battle between the Four Heroes and Goshifa Lama I had imagined countless times—a fight that transcended human understanding, as if out of myth. But among our allies, all seasoned masters, no one was so green as to have their eyes stolen by the spectacle alone. The Four Heroes of Dong-o, Reverend Hyeon-gang, and five first-rate masters. When ten Sword Auras surged against Goshifa Lama at once, even he gave slightly in his stance. But that was all. In exchange for that momentary opening, a single sweep of his sword sent Murong Guk and the Heroic Beggar flying.

Everyone had expected Goshifa Lama to be strong, but no one had imagined that first-rate masters would be sent flying by a single sword. Even so, they did not give up, because before arriving here, they had seen hope. The combined assault continued. At the cost of Tang Woo and Yi-seong being struck down, the Lama's stance finally crumbled badly, and our hidden trump card—the only physical means we had of opposing a jiangshi—the Flame Emperor rapidly raised his force from Flame Aura to the Yama King Sword and slashed through the Lama's neck.

A crash that seemed to tear the ears apart. We had not discussed it among ourselves, but from the very beginning, this had been the strongest hand we could play.

But his neck bore only the faintest abrasion. It was not severed.

"Impressive! Beyond Flame Emperor's Flame Aura! Had I been a Soul-lost Jiangshi, my neck would have been cut clean off in a single stroke!"

Goshifa Lama let out a roaring laugh, as if he were enjoying himself immensely.

—Damn it. It really was impossible. We can cut the physical body itself, but unlike that jiangshi from before, this opponent knew how to manipulate qi. If he wrapped his body in qi to defend, not even the Yama King Sword could cut him!—

Hope crumbled away. But our bodies could not crumble. While he laughed like a madman, we swiftly reorganized our formation.

"The elite rescue unit the Alliance organized will certainly arrive. Let us hold out just a little longer."

Reverend Ok-cheong of Wudang. His martial prowess was not exceptionally high, but because his Taiji Wisdom Sword was defense-oriented, he was the only one who had not been knocked out of the fight.

"We must. Was Ok-jo not also your martial nephew at the Alliance? If he were at least here, we might have deployed the Wuji Three-Sword Formation and managed to hold out somehow..."

Hyeon-gang sighed, disappointed. Wuji Three-Sword Formation? An ultimate defensive formation deployed with three Wuji Swords?

"Senior Martial Uncle, it is impossible. Even if Senior Brother Ok-jo were here, the Wuji Three-Sword Formation would be impossible. I cannot use the Wuji Sword."

"What? Has it not already been thirty years since you reached the first-rate realm? Why have you still not attained Limitless?!"

"It may look easy to you, Senior Martial Uncle, but is Limitless the name of the neighbor's dog? In our Ok Generation, only six can do it; in the Myeong Generation, only four. If you shake out the whole of Wudang, that is a mere eleven people, I tell you."

"No, there are only seven in the Ok Generation! Aside from you, you rascal, every last one of them can ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do it!"

"There were originally forty-four. But they all went to meet the Primordial Heavenly Worthy."

Hyeon-gang sighed at Ok-cheong's shameless retort. Wudang Sect was the very model of a great sect with a strict hierarchy, but Ok-cheong was already an old man of eighty himself. In their shared condition of growing old together, he had little reason to fear his Senior Martial Uncle. Besides, the Wudang Sect Leader was also of the Ok Generation, so the dynamic felt rather like the platoon's real power talking to a sergeant on the verge of discharge.

The mood turned briefly absurd, but it was truly no laughing matter. It was a pitch-black emergency, on the very brink of death. Secrets were precious, but in the end, life was far more precious.

"A soul of such martial force, and an invincible jiangshi body to boot. The worst of martial arts and Taoist arts combined. There is no way left now. Since it has come to this, we have no choice but to use Taoist arts ourselves."

"Taoist arts?"

Ok-cheong's eyes flashed for an instant.

"We will borrow our ancestral master's strength as well. Reverend Ok-cheong, I will momentarily place Reverend Heo San's spirit in your body. Then I will unfold Limitless, and we will form the Wuji Three-Sword Formation."

At those words, the eyes of the two old Wudang men went wide.

"You can breathe a spirit into someone?"

"You have reached Wuji?"

Their points of shock were slightly different. As expected of a martial artist and a Daoist. There was no time to explain either, so I transferred Heosan's spirit into Ok-cheong. At last, one of the Four Heroes of Dong-o—Reverend Heo San of Wudang—adjusted his grip on his sword once more before his old nemesis.