183. Rescue (8)
Rescue (8)
183. Rescue (8)
The technique of aiding another person's qi circulation to accelerate recovery was a basic skill for a martial artist who had cultivated internal energy. But for an instant master like me, it was an utterly impossible talent. Even if it had been possible, the Flame Blossom Art I cultivated was an internal art poorly suited to assisting another's qi. The Flame Blossom Art was a martial art specialized solely in one thing: extreme yang qi. It was therefore difficult to harmonize with other arts, and it demanded vast quantities of yang energy. The Ice Soul Divine Art was probably similar.
By comparison, the Great Clarity Internal Art was rooted in the Taiji and harmony, so it blended easily with other internal arts, and what it called for was pure refinement free of turbid qi. The two Wudang Daoists, Hyeon-gang and Ok-cheong, restored the others with practiced skill, and finally they roused Heroic Beggar—at least to the point where he could walk on his own two feet.
"Even after experiencing it myself, I still can't believe it. The Medical Immortal was the Blood Cult Leader, and the legendary Goshifa Lama was resurrected as a jiangshi, yet you still overcame them. I'm devastated I lost consciousness."
Heroic Beggar wore a deflated expression.
"So tell me. Who actually brought it down? That young friend? Or was it Reverend Hyeon-gang?"
At Tang Woo's question, Hyeon-gang looked at me.
"Isn't it obvious? If I had the strength to fell the jiangshi of Goshifa Lama, why would I have been locked in a desperate struggle against a mere three other jiangshi until you all arrived?"
"Good heavens. I saw for myself that the Extreme Flame Art holds terrifying power. Still, Goshifa Lama's jiangshi never would have given you an opening, would it?"
At Tang Woo's well-reasoned point, Ok-cheong stepped forward and spoke.
"Creating openings—isn't that our Wudang specialty? We used the Wuji Three-Sword Formation."
"The Wuji Three-Sword Formation?! I saw that friend's Qi-Guided Sword included the Taiji Wisdom Sword among its moves, but are you telling me that while mastering that many martial arts, he also reached Limitless, the pinnacle of the Transforming Force stage?!"
When Iseong asked in astonishment, Ok-cheong nodded with pride.
"Wait. That friend is a monster to begin with, so let's grant he's capable of Limitless. But Ok-cheong—you've clearly never reached Limitless, am I right?"
At Hye-gwang's sharp question, Ok-cheong bared his teeth in a broad grin.
"Well, in the middle of a life-or-death battle, a voice reached me from somewhere. Since we were facing Goshifa Lama, it must have been our Wudang hero, Ancestral Master Heo San, descending to grant me a lesson. I thrust my sword according to that voice's instruction, and before I knew it, I and the world itself became the birth of Taiji, you know?"
Ok-cheong was spouting bullshit like a cultist Daoist, and from the look on Hyeon-gang's face, I could feel his profound exasperation all the way over here.
"Good heavens, congratulations. Ah, but yes. If I hadn't lost consciousness during that struggle myself, I'm certain I'd have attained a great enlightenment as well."
Every elder except Ok-cheong was suffering from severe internal injuries. After a grueling six-hour battle, Hyeon-gang had barely managed to circulate his qi enough to fight the Goshifa Lama, and even though he didn't show it, he seemed to have sustained considerable internal damage. On top of that, even Ok-cheong had fought by scraping together every last shred of Ancestral Master Heo San's true qi. Truly, they had become a pack of aged elders, and at a tortoise-like pace, they were slowly making their way back to the Martial Alliance.
"The one regrettable thing is that ultimately, the Medical Immortal—no, the Blood Cult Leader—slipped through our fingers before our very eyes."
Murong Guk pointed out the part that still felt unsettling.
"What's the problem? Once we return to the Martial Alliance, the Buddhist and Taoist factions will mass-produce Nullification Talismans. Provided we have enough talismans, jiangshi are no match for the Sichuan Tang Clan."
"Still lusting after merit, are we? Don't forget: all of today's deeds are the achievement of Yeongmok here."
When Heroic Beggar reproached him, Tang Woo, despite having no energy, raised his voice.
"Do you think me so shameless? Even if I had no need to stoop to such a thing... the truth is, this friend is my own grandnephew."
"What nonsense?"
"Go and check when we're back at the Martial Alliance. This friend's name is Baek Eun-hyeok. The eldest son of the Jilin Baek Clan Estate. And my Tang niece, Tang Chun-hee, is the lady of the Baek Clan Estate."
"You're forcing that connection. If you want to call someone your grandnephew, that would be the Junior Manor Head of Baek Clan Estate, not Eun-hyeok. Eun-hyeok's maternal family is the Northern Sea Ice Palace. He's the one who gave up the position of Junior Manor Head because of his younger brother's prestigious maternal line."
When Murong Guk retorted brusquely, Hye-gwang asked in surprise.
"Shaolin too has recently conducted its own investigation into this friend, but it seems you were already in possession of considerable detail."
"The Murong Clan has maintained relations with Baek Clan Estate for generations. Besides, our Rin is Eun-hyeok's dearest and most irreplaceable friend. Do you think Yeongsan Sect is staying at our Murong manor within the Martial Alliance for no reason?"
The Murong Clan and Sichuan Tang Clan had lately been locked in an unspoken contest of nerves over their influence on the Baek Clan Estate. Come to think of it, the Baek Clan Estate had grown enormous. Two Sacred Bone houses of the Five Great Clans were bickering over a place like the Baek Clan Estate.
"Speaking of which, that reminds me of a letter from my Senior Brother Hyesang. Did you two know? The first head of Baek Clan Estate was a lay disciple of our Shaolin."
Venerable Hye-gwang suddenly interjected. The pretense of ignorance from a moment ago had just been bait. No, wait—what did being close to the Baek Clan Estate have to do with you people?
"And what good is that? Yeongmok is not presently a young master of Baek Clan Estate, but a disciple of Yeongsan Sect. But have you ever imagined this? Senior Martial Uncle Hyeon-gang's master, Grandmaster Hwangbok, was a martial brother of Reverend Hwangseong, the founder of Yeongsan Sect, back at Maoshan."
Ok-cheong jumped in, too, as if the whole thing looked amusing, and Hyeon-gang's kindly face clouded over with sheer exasperation. Hyeon-gang did genuinely regard our Yeongsan Sect with the closeness of brothers, but he felt deeply ashamed of himself for having been unaware of his brother's hardship.
"You childish old men. If we're keeping score by those standards, who in the martial world isn't connected? I hadn't meant to bring this up, but hearing 'Jilin' just jogged my memory. Mount Hua is famous for its female disciples, you know. Naturally, I had a female disciple once myself. About fifty years ago, one of my female disciples descended from Mount Hua to marry. The place was so terribly far that I could never see her again, but still, I think of that child from time to time. I believe it was some martial household in Jilin?"
Whoa... Iseong. This old man. Was he my grandmother's master? Grandmother passed away ten years ago, but as a first-rate master, he was still perfectly spry.
"Quit your bellyaching. Just sitting there fighting over who's on whose side, clinging to one youngster. Forget the title of elder—aren't you embarrassed, at your age?"
Heroic Beggar made a kah sound and spat blood-flecked saliva onto the ground.
"So then. What connection does the Beggars' Sect have to this friend?"
At Ok-cheong's playful inquiry, Heroic Beggar scowled and answered.
"We have one. Did you not all hear? That little kid from Yeongsan Sect snapped our Bok-ie's leg clean in half. Thanks to that, a rumor has spread throughout the Martial Alliance that Bok-ie lost to a child. Bok-ie was actually the winner, but who goes around boasting that they defeated a little kid? I heard from the Drunken Beggar that the kid inherited Layman Geo Am's true legacy, but I can't imagine where she learned that kind of kicking technique."
"Ah. That? I heard my Senior Brother Hyesang passed on the Cheomju Kick."
"Oh, you mad bastard! I can forgive Wudang, but why in the hell did you teach Yeongsan Sect a Shaolin art?!"
"How would a bald old monk like me know? My Senior Brother Hyesang is practically a bodhisattva, you know. You were so busy boasting that Jo Bok and this tournament would be the Beggars' Sect's stage, and now look what a joke it's become. Shall I teach him a move of the Tathagata Palm myself later? Maybe I'll have him break an arm this time?"
The old men's idle chatter was more pleasant than I had expected. The martial world held countless sects, but martial artists who had reached the pinnacle like these men ultimately ran into one another endlessly in this small pond, so they seemed to be on far closer terms than I'd guessed. Moreover, given their station, it must have been difficult for them to let their hair down like this under ordinary circumstances. As they horsed around like young boys, our heavy footsteps slowly began to lighten.
Once I recovered a bit of ease, the sheer magnitude of how remarkable these men were struck me anew. Their speech may have been rough, but they had charged out of the Martial Alliance without a thought for time-consuming reporting procedures or the like, all to rescue Hyeon-gang. And there was no way they didn't know. Hyeon-gang had been attacked by a jiangshi, and even Hyesang and Hyeon-gang had both been utterly helpless against that jiangshi. Perhaps Hyesang could be set aside, but they understood Hyeon-gang's unrivaled strength even better than I did. They would have known better than anyone that what Hyeon-gang could not do, they could not do, yet they truly led their disciples out like upright, chivalrous warriors of the Orthodox Faction.
They really were remarkable. During my stay at the Martial Alliance, political schemes had made me look down on the organization somewhat, but it could function on such a vast scale because righteous martial artists like these existed. Moreover, Reverend Hyeon-gang commanded the undivided respect of men like them. His martial skill and character were flawless. Would Murong Rin's father, Murong Sang, someday become such a complete man? Everyone laughed and chatted except for two people. Hyeon-gang, senior even to those men, maintained his dignified bearing, while I felt like a brat intruding on the adults' conversation. The two of us alone walked toward the Martial Alliance in silence.
"Hoo. This just won't do. Let's rest a moment, then go. Why in blazes hasn't the Martial Alliance sent a rescue party yet?"
The place where they'd fought Goshifa Lama was quite close to the Martial Alliance, but even that distance seemed burdensome to these injured old men. They were first-rate martial artists, not people who'd complain because their legs just ached. When Hye-gwang dropped to the ground, the other elders began sitting down one by one as well.
"How easy do you think it is for a rescue party to come? The children who were sent to the Martial Alliance ahead of us earlier must have relayed word of the jiangshi. They'll be spending an age trying to muster only first-rate martial artists."
First-rate martial artists were indistinguishable from the strategic assets of each sect. Under normal circumstances, countless sects would have volunteered in pursuit of merit, but in the face of jiangshi against which Hyeon-gang, Hyesang, the six elders here, and over a hundred martial artists had been unable to lift a finger, pulling together enough martial artists for a detachment couldn't have been easy.
"Shall I go on ahead to the Martial Alliance and bring back some men to escort you?"
"Don't. You're the only one here who's still perfectly fit. A jiangshi like Goshifa Lama won't appear so easily, but if we were to run into even a handful of Blood Cult followers in our current state, we'd be setting out seven funeral tables."
Murong Guk waved his hand dismissively as he spoke to me. He was right. We'd gone through this hellish ordeal to save Hyeon-gang—it wouldn't do to sadden my master by dropping our guard at the very last moment. The Martial Alliance was practically under our noses anyway. We could just rest a reasonable while, then go.
I wasn't particularly tired, but when I sat down as well to match the mood, a peculiar sensation bloomed for an instant.
Unerring Shot. The sensation of the demon's special ability, usable once a day, recharging. Midnight had already passed, hadn't it? I'd never used it before, so I hadn't known, but if I just fired it off whenever, could it function as a simple alarm clock? It was a demon-given power, so I was sure its precision would top any twenty-first-century atomic clock... but still. A once-a-day, midnight-alert alarm function. Was there any actual use for that? This demonic power really did seem both incredibly immense and absurdly worthless at the same time.