Wudang Sacred Scriptures-Chapter 104
Even as he felt the Songmun Sword slice across his scapula, Captain Jeong Seop-bo of the Black Death Division shoved the Blood-Maddened Blade forward.
The distance between them was negligible—there was no way for a greenhorn to dodge it. Besides, he had already thrown himself forward, clinging like a leech.
His left arm was gone, but his right still remained. Into it, he poured every last ounce of his internal energy.
Shiit!
Just as the bloodstained Blood-Maddened Blade pierced into the unguarded left arm of the greenhorn—
Kwaang!
Jeong Seop-bo felt a massive shock in his lower abdomen.
The brat had struck his dantian with a knee.
A knee is flesh and bone. But that thing wasn’t.
It felt like a steel pillar had smashed through his dantian.
How could a human leg feel like solid iron?
The shockwave hurled him backward.
The Blood-Maddened Blade he had driven in was pulled back with it.
This was a move fit for a dogfight.
Captain Jeong Seop-bo had no way of knowing that Wudang’s training hall taught Daoshu and physical techniques such as kicking forms. Nor could he have guessed that Seok Jang-san, the very best among them, had mastered all of Wudang’s physical arts—and was a top-tier Sanda expert.
“Keuhak!”
Jeong Seop-bo coughed up a bowlful of blood.
His dantian was utterly destroyed.
With his internal energy shattered, he was overwhelmed by exhaustion and agony.
Summoning the last dregs of his internal force, he hurled the Blood-Maddened Blade.
—Whik!
Seok Jang-san flicked his Songmun Sword with ease, and the blade lost all momentum, clattering to the ground.
—Tunggeureong!
Even with his left shoulder hacked off and his dantian broken, Captain Jeong Seop-bo of the Black Death Division stood tall.
He was like a walking corpse, yet he refused to kneel.
“As expected... Wudang. For a second-generation disciple to have reached the level of Force Manifestation...”
As the fight came to an end, Hyeonam Dojang spoke.
“This isn’t the moment to be receiving compliments, but I appreciate it. Though I must admit—I’m quite disappointed.”
“What’s there to be disappointed about?”
“I had hoped Seok would break through into Enlightenment during this fight against you... if only you had endured just a little longer.”
“Heh-heh-heh! That opportunity will come soon enough, so don’t you worry, Dojang.”
“......”
“Now that the Black Death Division has been reduced to this state, the Demonic Cult Alliance’s reputation is in ruins, wouldn’t you say?”
“If they still can’t come to their senses after witnessing Wudang’s true strength, then so be it.”
Jeong Seop-bo thought—Maybe they really won’t.
The Demonic Cult Alliance was fundamentally different from the orthodox sects of the martial world. It didn’t always pursue absolute destruction—it always looked for a way to compromise.
That was how it remained one of the two dominant powers in the Central Plains, alongside the Murim Alliance.
But that didn’t mean they would retreat empty-handed.
The Demonic Cult would withdraw only when it had established a clear upper hand.
Jeong Seop-bo didn’t bother explaining any of this to the Wudang Daoist.
There was no need to give them any reason to raise their guard unnecessarily.
“...Perhaps you’re right.”
Captain Jeong Seop-bo replied with words he didn’t mean.
“Now, put an end to it.”
Hyeonam Dojang nodded.
“I carry the order of Pursuit and Execution. Regrettable as it is, I have no choice.”
“Bullshit...”
Even as he spat curses, Hyeonam Dojang remained impassive and addressed Seok Jang-san.
“Deliver the final blow yourself.”
“Dojang, wasn’t the duel already decided? Wouldn’t it be a greater punishment to take him back to the main temple and imprison him in the Demon-Suppressing Cavern?”
Hyeonam Dojang furrowed his brow.
“What order did you receive from the Grand Elder?”
“...Pursuit and Execution.”
“Do you think I or your senior brothers would have killed these men out of cruelty?”
He continued without hesitation, staring at the silent Seok Jang-san.
“If we don’t show the true fury of Wudang now, even more of our disciples will shed blood. We didn’t come here for vengeance over the comrades lost at the True Martial Hall—we came to prevent further loss in the future.”
“...!”
“It is your duty to ensure that no one in this world dares look down upon Wudang’s sword.”
Seok Jang-san understood his Dojang’s teaching. But he couldn’t entirely rid himself of doubt. Was this truly the only way?
Suddenly, he thought of Kwak Yeon.
If it were Kwak Yeon?
That friend would no doubt have sought another path.
He always had.
Kwak Yeon punished without hesitation—but always left room for change.
He had forgiven Ha Gang with a single punch. And as a result, Ha Gang had cleared Kwak Yeon’s name and left.
Seok Jang-san, not being Kwak Yeon, could only raise his Songmun Sword and stand before the Captain of the Black Death Division.
“You really are a greenhorn.”
Captain Jeong Seop-bo sneered.
“You should at least consider the other guy’s position.”
“...!”
Seeing the man before him—mutilated, barely standing, yet still refusing to kneel—Seok Jang-san struck without hesitation.
—Chwaak!
A white arc of light sliced through the Captain’s throat.
Hyeonam Dojang glanced once at Seok Jang-san, who stood motionless with sword in hand, and turned away.
To bear a sword was to shoulder a mountain—to take on the burden of the path toward enlightenment.
Hyeonam Dojang had never questioned right and wrong. His master had once lamented that this was why he had ceased progressing.
The Disciplinary Court was the position that suited him best.
He didn’t need to agonize over morality—only act according to Wudang’s laws.
That was how he had come to lead the Pursuit and Execution Squad.
No lives were lost on their side, but five disciples had sustained serious injuries, and nearly ten had been lightly wounded.
Hyeonam Dojang called to his junior, Sub-Captain Hyeonbong Dojang.
“Hyeonbong, which is the nearest Wudang-affiliated household?”
“The Seongil Market in Sain-hyeon is closest.”
“Then dispatch one swift-footed disciple to Seongil Market to inform them that we’ll need lodging for a few days. Ask them to also secure a skilled physician for trauma treatment. Once we complete emergency care and minimal recovery, we’ll return to the main temple.”
“Understood.”
While Hyeonam Dojang oversaw emergency treatment for the injured disciples, he instructed a few others to roughly gather and bury the enemy corpses.
“We must move quickly for the sake of the wounded—there’s no need for thoroughness.”
They were deep in the mountains. The rest of the remains would soon vanish on their own.
****
Dawn light seeped through the cracks in the wall of the Guandi Temple.
Kwak Yeon tossed a few more pieces of wood into the dwindling campfire.
Fwhoooosh!
Red flames flared up with renewed vigor.
Because of it, Jo Cheon-yang’s face flushed a bit as he spoke.
“Daoist Kwak, morning has broken—surely there’s no need to keep the fire burning now?” ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com
In response to the Elder of the Hao Clan’s question, Kwak Yeon replied,
“I’m not doing it because of the darkness.”
“Then...?”
“I simply like watching the flames.”
It was a statement Jo Cheon-yang couldn’t quite understand.
He likes lighting fires that much?
All night, Kwak Yeon had fixated on the fire, never closing his eyes for even a moment.
Kwak Yeon spoke calmly.
“There was someone I respected as much as my own grandfather. He used to love watching the flames inside a hearth. I once asked why, and he told me: he was drawing life from the fire.”
Jo Cheon-yang’s expression darkened.
“So you noticed?”
Kwak Yeon nodded.
“I saw how much blood you coughed up. How could I not know?”
Jo Cheon-yang glanced at Gwaa, who lay asleep on the other side of the shrine, and said quietly,
“Please keep it a secret from that child.”
“......”
As Kwak Yeon silently looked at him, Jo Cheon-yang added softly,
“He’s endured enough pain. I don’t want to add another.”
“How much longer do you think you can endure?”
Kwak Yeon couldn’t bring himself to ask how many days were left in his life.
“I think... I can last until the matter on Gunsan is resolved.”
Jo Cheon-yang gave a bitter smile and continued.
“Honestly, last night I didn’t think I’d even manage that... but strangely, I feel stronger this morning.”
“......”
“Maybe, just like the person you mentioned, I really did draw some life from the fire.”
Kwak Yeon offered a faint smile.
He didn’t mention the fact that he’d sat beside Jo Cheon-yang under the excuse of tending the fire—while silently circulating Primordial No-Self Art.
He had realized the elder’s condition had worsened yesterday and thought hard about what he could do.
He remembered how, when he sat beside the hearth watching the flames near Elder Jang Noya, his Primordial Vital Qi had grown stronger.
He wondered if, by sitting close and activating the Primordial No-Self Art, he might transfer a small amount of Primordial Vital Qi to Jo Cheon-yang.
Seeing the elder’s face regain some color now, he thought perhaps it had worked—even if only slightly.
“If so, I’m very glad.”
Jo Cheon-yang let out a quiet sigh.
“Thanks to Daoist Kwak and Rear Beggar, I have little concern about what happens on Gunsan. It’s what comes after that worries me—what will become of that child.”
“He’s the direct bloodline of the previous Clan Leader, isn’t he?”
“In the Hao Clan, status is never passed down by blood. Which means that child... will become an orphan with no place to go. And with my body like this...”
Kwak Yeon looked at Jo Cheon-yang quietly.
“You’re a man of deep affection, Elder.”
Jo Cheon-yang shook his head.
“In my younger days, I did a lot of terrible things. You’ve heard the nickname Middle Freak of the Two Elders, haven’t you? As the years passed, I began to regret them all... and thought maybe it was time I accepted death and paid for my sins. That was when the child came to me.”
“......”
“I thought—perhaps it meant I wasn’t meant to die peacefully. That I needed to atone first. Once I realized my life was short, I rushed forward. That’s what led to all this.”
“......”
“And yet... that’s how I came to meet the Sword of Wudang himself, Daoist Kwak. In that sense, I am grateful.”
Kwak Yeon replied,
“The Sword of Wudang—that’s far too generous.”
“You may not be the Sword of Wudang yet, but you’ll rise to that title before long. That’s why I call you so.”
Kwak Yeon gave a wry smile and said,
“I have no intentions of tying myself to Wudang.”
Jo Cheon-yang flinched and looked at him.
“...?”
“I can’t share the full reason, not without my teacher’s permission. But what I can say is this: I am a disciple of Wudang, without doubt.”
As he tossed another piece of wood onto the fire, Kwak Yeon spoke again.
“But is it really best to keep this secret from Gwaa?”
“......”
“I was unable to be at the bedside of the one I called grandfather when he passed. That has remained a regret in my heart ever since.”
Jo Cheon-yang sighed softly and said,
“That may be true... but if one can’t see it with their eyes, doesn’t that mean it still exists somewhere in the world?”
“......”
“That child came to me as his last hope. I don’t want to extinguish that flame.”
Kwak Yeon saw that Gwaa’s body, lying with its back to them, was trembling slightly.
“If that’s how you feel... then I won’t press the matter further.”
Kwak Yeon added more wood to the fire, and the flames flared higher.
Beyond the fire, the form of the sleeping Gwaa was soon ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) hidden from view.
****
Morning sunlight settled over the mountains, and a swarm of crows gathered around the hut.
Caw! Caw! Caw!
The crows squabbled as they pecked at scattered flesh and blood.
Then suddenly, a group of crows perched not far from the hut flapped into the air with a startled flutter.
A figure had risen, pushing aside a thick layer of fallen leaves.
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