Wudang Sacred Scriptures

Chapter 206

Chwi Dugae could hardly take his eyes off Kwak Yeon.

It was because the boy astonished him more by the day.

This one’s the real thing, he thought.

He found himself looking forward to how the Dark Cavern Taoist would stride through the martial world.

Thus far, what the martial world knew of this Dark Cavern Taoist was merely that he had just stepped into the Fire Realm and behaved like a moth to a flame.

That was only the surface.

The martial world had no inkling that the Dark Cavern Taoist was hurling his whole body against the world to hone himself.

—Grrrrowl!

Had that shameless sound not come from his belly, Chwi Dugae’s admiration and imaginings would not have stopped.

New Dragon of Wudang or whatever—right now he had to pacify the ogre howling in his gut.

Besides, they might have to exert themselves shortly.

He had no love for swinging the Tagu Staff while clutching a starving stomach.

Chwi Dugae rummaged in his sleeve and brought out dried provisions.

Gazing at the black, stringy jerky, he suddenly thought of the tender Dongpo Pork he had left behind in the guesthouse tavern.

Not a pheasant for a chicken, but kudzu root for a pheasant. Damn it.

At the sight of the dark-red jerky, the dark-red one-hundred-eight-bead rosary in Abbot Seonwol’s hand flashed unbidden across his mind.

More precisely, he recalled a rosary that had been famous across the martial world.

The Red-Blood Rosary.

He had heard it was called that because the wielder beat people to death with the rosary so often that the blood never dried.

Thinking of the Red-Blood Rosary naturally brought to mind the epithet of the former demon who had used that rosary as a signature weapon.

And with it, the fact that that former demon had been captured during the Great Upheaval of the Eight Desolations and thrown into the Martial Alliance’s underground prison.

Don’t tell me that “ten years of wall-facing in a cave” meant that?

When he said it, the abbot’s face had been steeped in pain; it had felt sincere. So Chwi Dugae had put aside suspicion and left the meditation cell.

There is a golden maxim in the martial world: to deceive, bury one part falsehood within nine parts truth.

If that abbot really hid a needle in the straw, then...?

Chwi Dugae’s appetite vanished in an instant.

If Huayang Temple’s Abbot Seonwol was that former demon, then this whole affair was the work of the Demonic Eight Divisions.

If that were true, then Huayang Temple was, in a word, a tiger’s den.

Of course he had expected the culprits to be no ordinary lot, but the Demonic Eight Divisions?

Chwi Dugae considered telling Kwak Yeon what he was thinking, then shook his head when he saw him wholly focused on the temple.

We cannot yet conclude it’s the Demonic Eight Divisions. Once we go down and start the inquiry, we’ll find out naturally anyway.

Looking down at the dimming panorama of Huayang Temple, Chwi Dugae stuffed the jerky into his mouth.

It seemed today he would have to wield the Tagu Staff in earnest.

—Chomp! Chomp! Slurp! Slurp!

Kwak Yeon paid no mind to the steady sound of jerky being chewed beside him and kept his attention on the temple below.

Only the novice monk had shown himself now and then; there had been no other movement within the grounds of Huayang Temple. Thus there had been no chance to unfold Solitary Moon Illumines the Boundless Skill and survey within.

Huayang Temple looked every inch a meditation cloister.

He could understand how it had drawn no suspicion from the world for months.

Those who occasionally came to offer sutras would have seen the abbot and the novice and left convinced it was truly a meditation cloister. And little by little, people would have stopped coming altogether.

There is no reason to labor up a mountain to a temple where one cannot make offerings.

The instant they arrived, he had wanted nothing more than to tear through the meditation cells without question.

But he also had to consider the possibility that the abducted were being held elsewhere—and in that case, the danger they might face.

Finding the Sage Taoist and the others was the foremost purpose.

Fwoosh!

Dusk thickened and a light came on in the Great Hall. No other hall lit up.

When the temple was swallowed entirely by the dark like that, there was nothing for it but to go in and investigate directly.

—Hoo! Hooo!

An owl hooted somewhere in the hills, and Kwak Yeon rose to his feet.

“Brother Kwak, you mean to go in already?”

“Whether midnight or now, there’s no sign of life either way.”

“Well, there is that. Up we go!”

Bracing himself on the Tagu Staff as he stood, Chwi Dugae went on, joking:

“This level of darkness counts as keeping etiquette.”

“...?”

“Etiquette for a gentleman on the beam—a thief. One cannot very well rummage through another man’s house in broad daylight.”

Kwak Yeon knew Chwi Dugae was shaking off tension with empty banter.

Watching him chew that jerky far longer than usual, he had dimly felt the man’s unease.

So you do have a notion who they are.

Kwak Yeon thought to say he would go alone, then let it go.

He could no more break Chwi Dugae’s stubbornness than avoid wounding his pride.

****

Stepping into the grounds of Huayang Temple, Kwak Yeon and Chwi Dugae finally stood before the hall that housed the meditation cells.

Just as they had seen from the mountainside, the grounds were utterly deserted; no one hindered them.

It was enough to make one wonder again if it was not in fact a real meditation cloister.

Either way, even if it proved to be a true cloister and thus discourteous, they could not avoid verifying.

—Clack!

Kwak Yeon threw open the first meditation cell without hesitation.

He sensed no presence.

Naturally—because the cell was empty.

“...?”

Chwi Dugae opened the second cell.

Again, no response from within.

They flung open the other cells in succession; each and every one was empty.

Chwi Dugae knit his brow at Kwak Yeon.

—They’re up to something.

At Chwi Dugae’s sound transmission, Kwak Yeon gave a slight nod and vaulted down into the temple court.

Whirling, Chwi Dugae flashed his body and came to stand at Kwak Yeon’s side.

—Creak!

The Great Hall doors opened, and a beam of light fell across the court, catching the two men.

Then Abbot Seonwol appeared within the hall.

—Clack! Clack!

Standing atop the stone terrace of the Great Hall, the abbot rolled the one-hundred-eight-bead rosary and looked down at the two below.

“What brings the donors back again?”

Seeing the rosary glow redder under the dim light, Chwi Dugae spoke, voice gone cold.

“Still playing monk, even now?”

“Sub-Branch Master, how is it your tongue grew so coarse in half a day? Seems you saw something ill-omened in the hills.”

“I saw something very ill-omened.”

“...?”

“That cur they called the Blood-Chant Demon Monk from the Gathering Demons Division.”

At those words, Kwak Yeon glanced, startled, at Chwi Dugae.

The Gathering Demons Division was one of the Demonic Eight Divisions.

He understood then why Chwi Dugae had been so taut on the mountainside.

He also saw surprise flicker across the gentle face of Abbot Seonwol.

“So you’ve recognized this poor monk at last. As expected of a Beggar Clan Hu Gae.”

Freely acknowledging himself, the Blood-Chant Demon Monk chuckled and went on:

“But telling a monk to stop being a monk—doesn’t that go a bit far?”

“Hmph. If a defrocked dog of a monk is a monk, we should treat a mutt as a beast of prey.”

At Chwi Dugae’s snort, the Blood-Chant Demon Monk shook his head.

“A beggar spawn indeed—filthy mouth. In that at least, you surpass your master.”

“Oh? He cursed you too? I never heard that one.”

“During the Upheaval, I very nearly tore that filthy mouth of your master wide open. He rushed me not knowing his station and spewed such curses. If the lackeys of the Martial Sage House hadn’t shown up, I’d have ripped out his tongue for certain.”

“You should have, for my sake.”

“What?”

“You’ve had your share of his tongue too, haven’t you, old demon? I had to hear that cracking stream of curses all my life.”

The Blood-Chant Demon Monk smiled faintly.

“I’ll see to it one day. In any case, I’ll start with you, the disciple.”

Chwi Dugae cocked his head.

“And with what trick will you ‘see to me’? Far as I can see, you’re empty-handed. Weren’t you thrown in a dungeon after being force-fed the Heaven-Severing Life-Saving Pill?”

“Young whelp—know quite a bit, don’t you.”

Chwi Dugae shuddered theatrically.

“My master droned on so tediously about the Upheaval that I couldn’t help but know.”

“As you say, when I was thrown into the prison, I was forced to swallow the Heaven-Severing Life-Saving Pill, and I have yet to cast off that binding. I have no inner power at all.”

He slid a glance at Kwak Yeon as he continued:

“Thanks to that, I could evade your suspicious gazes by day.”

Kwak Yeon understood why his External Spirit Boundary had done nothing to this abbot.

“Ah!”

Chwi Dugae let out a great exclamation and rattled on:

“So to avoid suspicion and keep playing monk, you left your dantian unrecovered. My, my—more devotion than I expected for a business. No wonder no rumor leaked to the martial world.”

After an excess of admiration, Chwi Dugae tilted his head and asked:

“Old demon! But the Poison King’s Heaven-Severing Life-Saving Pill is said to have no antidote. How do you throw off its binding?”

“Boy, enough with the shallow ploys.”

“I admit that was a bit blunt. But what can I do? I’m the sort who can’t stand not knowing.”

Grinning, Chwi Dugae cut straight in:

“In the Gathering Demons Division, do you use Human Offering—sorcery—to break the pill’s binding?”

At the naked, dogged question, the Blood-Chant Demon Monk smiled.

“It will be convenient for you to think so.”

Answering obliquely, he clapped his hands once.

—Snap!

In an instant, torches flared up all around the corners of the court.

In the bright light, scores of fiends were revealed, encircling Kwak Yeon and Chwi Dugae.

The two were not greatly surprised; they had already felt movements in the dark.

They had guessed that the long talk served to complete the ring of steel.

In truth, Kwak Yeon had wanted just that and had stepped into the middle of the temple court without protest—so he could cut down as many as possible.

No matter how high a master of the Fire Realm, there are limits to striking down foes scattered to the winds.

Looking down at them from the Great Hall’s terrace, the Blood-Chant Demon Monk spoke:

“This old body is still empty, so I must borrow the strength of my men. I trust you’ll understand.”

“Who spares a thought for a decrepit demon with not a grain of inner power.”

Chwi Dugae nodded and tossed out a question:

“Was this set up as a trap?”

“If one must put a name to it, call it a trap. We made ready in case you returned.”

“You knew we would come back?”

Chwi Dugae cocked his head and went on:

“Then I’m a little hurt. You seem to be looking down on this Beggar Clan Hu Gae. And more so on my brother here.”

“I’ve heard the Beggar Clan Sub-Branch Master has some skill. And the Dark Cavern Taoist, some vanishing tricks. Either way, what’s here is more than enough for you both, so don’t feel slighted. Enough introductions, then...”

Just as he raised his hand to loose his subordinates, Kwak Yeon—who had kept silence—spoke up.

“I have one question for you, old demon.”

The Blood-Chant Demon Monk [N O V E L I G H T] replied as if he had been waiting:

“How the Sage Taoist fares—is that it?”

Kwak Yeon nodded openly.

“That—and the others.”

With a fishy smile curling his lips, the demon said:

“Even if I don’t tell you, you’ll know soon.”

“...?”

“Because you’ll share your senior brother’s lot.”

For an instant, light flashed through Kwak Yeon’s previously indifferent eyes.

“Then there’s no need to waste any more time.”

—Shraaang!

As Kwak Yeon drew the Cheonggang Sword, scores of fiends lifted their weapons in unison.