Chapter 110
Chapter 110
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 110
Chapter Title: Riverside Reckoning
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A river called Whitewater snaked around the foothills near Baek Su Mountain.
Suddenly, the dead center of the river erupted upward like a fountain.
Shwaaaaa!
It wasn't just a jet of water that burst forth.
Mingled within were dozens, hundreds of human silhouettes.
"Cough! Cough!"
The Wudang Cleaning Elder, having dragged several disciples to the riverbank, lay sprawled out, vomiting water nonstop.
'Thought I was a goner...'
Not just him—Wudang disciples all around were retching uncontrollably or collapsed on the bank, greedily sucking in the fresh air.
"Huff! Huff!"
"W-We survived...!"
The fallen martial artists littered the shore. Even the strongest among them needed a full hour to regain their strength.
The first thing those who recovered even a shred of energy did was...
Puk! Puk!
"Elder, these ones aren't resisting."
"Looks like they've lost their minds."
"Doesn't matter. Kill them all. We've got someone else to interrogate anyway."
...slaughter every last half-human corpse puppet scattered around.
In one spot, a demonic cultivator with unnaturally long arms like a toad demon was getting swarmed by several martial artists.
"Vice Leader! Vice Leader...!"
The Protection Vice Leader was a peak expert who wielded all sorts of sorceries, but facing a horde of enraged martial artists alone was impossible.
"You killed plenty inside, didn't you?!"
"Time to pay for your sins."
It took less than fifteen minutes for the Vice Leader to be subdued and forced to his knees.
The Cleaning Elder stepped before him.
"Demonic scum. State your identity."
"......No words for you infidels."
Normally, he'd have bellowed sternly in front of witnesses to uphold Wudang's honor as much as possible.
But the Cleaning Elder clutched his throbbing head and turned away.
He lacked the energy for banter with mere rabble right now.
'At least with this one, we can save some face.'
The Sword King Mausoleum had been a trap dug by demonic factions.
Wudang had led the other martial artists through it unscathed and even captured the demons' second-in-command.
The Cleaning Elder had his excuse ready in an instant.
'And not just that...'
Amid the fallen Wudang disciples lay Namgung Cheon-hu and one Soaring Heaven Sword Squad member.
He'd spotted them drifting in the current and fished them out on purpose.
"Wake them."
"Yes, Elder."
They stimulated them with internal energy, and Namgung Cheon-hu and the squad member opened their eyes.
First thing they did, same as everyone: spew water.
"Ptooey!"
"Cough! Cough!"
"Young Lord Namgung. Are you with us?"
"Where...?"
"Riverbank near Baek Su Mountain. More importantly, do you remember?"
Namgung Cheon-hu's body went rigid.
The question triggered memories from before his consciousness faded.
He'd butchered his own retainers with his own hands...
'M-Must eliminate the witnesses...'
"Young Lord Namgung."
He snapped back to reality.
With every Wudang disciple as a witness, silencing them was impossible.
Not even the one surviving retainer could be killed.
It wouldn't change a thing anyway.
"What we endured in the Sword King Mausoleum was a horrific atrocity beyond words. We'll use this captured demon as proof to inform the Nine Great Sects and discuss countermeasures."
"Countermeasures...?"
"Demonic forces are lurking in the shadows—it's been exposed! Naturally, we must unite and wipe them out. That's the duty of us righteous faction folk!"
Namgung Cheon-hu grasped the Cleaning Elder's intent, despair etching across his face.
That sly old weasel would drag his own misdeeds into the spotlight for sure.
It was the only way the Elder could save face himself.
'I... I'm...'
To solidify his position in the clan, he'd gathered clues on the Sword King Mausoleum in secret, telling no one.
And this was the result.
He'd lost all but one of the retainers who'd sworn loyalty—half his power base gone.
His main family would surely hold him accountable too, meaning he had even more to lose.
"Damn it all...!"
"If you have breath for cursing, use it to head home. The Five Great Clans will need to align with the Nine Great Sects too. I trust you understand."
The Nine Great Sects and Five Great Clans were the twin pillars of the orthodox martial world, locked in eternal rivalry.
'Wudang at least has a captured demon to show for it. If I return empty-handed...!'
"......The demonic sword. Where's the demonic sword?"
"You were the last to hold it—why ask me? Probably swept away and sunk to the riverbed somewhere."
A demonic artifact that could unleash rivers of blood upon the world.
It needed to be found, sealed, or destroyed.
This too would serve as Wudang's perfect excuse.
Or perhaps...
Namgung Cheon-hu stared piercingly into the Cleaning Elder's eyes.
Then it hit him.
Baek Su Mountain marked the border between Henan and Anhui Provinces.
It was right next door to Hubei, where Wudang was based.
"Cleaning Elder. I'll contact the main family and dispatch martial artists to search for the demonic sword."
"So you can stir up more bloodshed? Wudang will handle it ourselves!"
Namgung Cheon-hu ground his teeth.
His worst fears confirmed.
'You sly old fox!'
The jianghu was merciless. Show weakness, and you'd be torn apart; expose a flaw, and you'd be stabbed. That was the martial world.
The Cleaning Elder—no, Wudang—was clearly scheming to use the demonic sword as a pretext to expand into Anhui.
The sect was obsessed with territorial growth anyway.
With opportunity and justification handed to them, they'd pounce like beasts.
"Looks like you get it. Then be on your way."
Namgung Cheon-hu stared blankly at the departing Wudang disciples.
If the Namgung Clan hadn't declined, they never would've dared, no matter the chance or excuse.
'If only the main family had held its place as the preeminent Great Clan...!'
Dark emotions surged in Namgung Cheon-hu's eyes.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Same time.
Baek Yang-hui's group had climbed out through the dog hole and now lay in a crevice in the ceiling rock of the Sword King Mausoleum's first eastern chamber.
"Uwaaaah!"
"Feels like I survived!"
"Man, we've been through hell in this place."
"And then a freak flood at the end."
"Nearly got swept away ourselves, haha."
"Uh, that. Yang-hui did it."
"Hm?"
"......"
"......"
All eyes on him, so he smirked faintly.
"Thanks to that, we scored a ton of gold."
Yang-hui and A-du, swept downstream by the rapids, had run into the Tang siblings searching the dog hole, Gu-ak, and Chui-dal.
They'd formed a human ladder and reached down, hauling up not just Yang-hui and A-du, but the golden goblet too.
The goblet was too big for the hole, so they'd smashed it apart.
Now their arms and bundles overflowed with gold.
"Heh heh heh heh! Heh heh heh heh!"
Kurrr rumble! Kurrr rumble!
Sinister laughter mingled with the rapids' roar, echoing in turn.
"Little brother. We've rested plenty. Time to spill—what happened beyond the Silent Array?"
He gave a quick summary of events.
"Monopolized all the Sword King's arrangements and treasures inside. Killed that Blood Eyes bastard too."
"......Feels awfully brief."
Suddenly, Chui-dal reached for the sword in Yang-hui's hand.
"This red blade a relic of the Sword King too?"
Thwack!
Chui-dal, smacked on the back of the hand for touching carelessly, looked aggrieved.
"Why hit me? It's not like it'll wear out from a touch!"
"Won't wear out, but you'll turn into a rampaging murder ghost."
"Huh?"
"Evil spirit's possessing the blade. Touch it, lose your mind, go berserk."
"Eek...!"
"Whoa. A real demonic sword."
"Never thought such legends were real."
In the current martial world, it was the stuff of myths.
Well, it was one of the Blood God's sacred relics of the Blood Cult, so myth made flesh.
"Got a few of these lying around. The Zhuge Clan's Crooked Dragon Pavilion is one too."
"Really?"
The Tangs' history was barely a century old, so no ancient relics of their own.
First time seeing something like the Blood God's Demonic Sword—a demonic weapon—so they were fascinated.
"But little brother, you're fine holding the demonic sword?"
"I'm a once-in-a-millennium prodigy, remember?"
"......"
"Kidding. Harmonious Heaven Principle Origin Art resists demonic qi well, and my mental fortitude holds it at bay."
He brushed it off casually and continued.
"Alright. Strength's back. Let's head out."
"Already? Wanna rest more."
"Chui-dal, wouldn't it be better to rest in a fancy inn room?"
"I think it's time too. Once those swept-away martial artists come to, they'll comb Baek Su Mountain top to bottom."
Tang Yeon-i's eyes widened suddenly.
"Oh!"
"Yeon-i, what's up?"
"Blood Cult remnants. All swept out together—could there be a bloodbath outside?"
Yang-hui shook his head.
"Nah. Their head's dead, so most are just brainless meat now."
He explained roughly and stood.
"Surviving cultists are maybe the Protection Vice Leader and one or two others. Wudang'll handle that."
Probably capture a few for face-saving.
"Ugh. Body feels heavy."
"Heh heh, nice heavy, though."
"True that, heh heh."
A thought struck him.
"When we report back, think Chief Steward Han'll ascend to nirvana again?"
"Nirvana's for ghosts. Better say 'ascend to immortality'."
They pictured Chief Steward Han Seok-eon dancing gleefully in their minds.
"He'll hold a ritual welcoming the money god's return."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ At that moment.
Chief Steward Han, playing go with Yeo Un-hyeok, suddenly looked up at the sky.
"Leader Yeo. My intuition's tingling."
"What's that out of nowhere, Chief Han?"
It'd been seven years since Yeo Un-hyeok joined the Baek Clan.
He and Han Seok-eon had become near-friends.
Sharing the rare distinction of being the clan's only two elders.
"Tingling strong. Whoa, never felt it this intense before!"
"Keep spouting nonsense."
Yeo Un-hyeok, puzzled, spotted Han's telltale hand gesture and understood.
"Heh heh heh heh!"
Han had curled his index and thumb into a coin shape, holding it to his eye like a child, grinning greedily.
One meaning only.
"Young Master Hui's bringing home cash again?"
"Not 'again'—he's already got it. For sure!"
Friends or not, it gave goosebumps sometimes.
Yang-hui was over a thousand li away on escort duty in Anhui—how'd he sense it?
Pure divine intuition. Maybe his upper dantian was open.
"Your nose never fails, Chief Han. Clan finances are looking decent now, eh?"
"Hey! Still a ways off! This old man's dream is bathing in a tub full of gold coins before I die!"
"......"
Not a dream for a black path leader, maybe—but for an orthodox clan steward?
"Anyway, Chief Han. What about that earlier matter?"
Han Seok-eon's face darkened instantly.
The shift was so dramatic, he looked a decade older.
"Young Master So, right? Sigh... Still agonizing over it. Can't even tell the secluded patriarch."
Baek Heon-so had been devastated learning Yang-hui went on the escort without him.
Despite his training immersion, Chui-dal—same age—got to go, but not a word to him.
"Running away from home, at just fourteen. When will that kid grow up?"
"I think it's the opposite. Too mature for his age."
"Why say that?"
"Young Master So just wants Young Master Hui's approval."
Yeo Un-hyeok stroked his beard and continued.
"Might even come back with huge gains, like Hui. He's Hui's little brother and tries hardest to emulate him."
But Han Seok-eon and Yeo Un-hyeok didn't know.
That the runaway Baek Heon-so would truly return with something in tow.