Wudang Sacred Scriptures-Chapter 84

—KRRRRAAAAACK!

A thunderous roar split the air.

And in truth, the space itself had been torn apart.

Caught within the radius of that searing flash, the masked men were—of course—torn apart with it.

—THUP THUP THUP THUP!

Their shredded limbs and broken swords rained down in a macabre shower.

A fountain of blood erupted in the wake of the vanished light, scattering crimson droplets into the firelight—casting a rainbow shimmer through the mist of gore.

The two masked men veering to the flanks froze mid-step, stunned by the incomprehensible carnage.

The commander stared in disbelief at the radiant glow rising from Kwak Yeon's Cheonggang Sword.

Sword Qi Manifest!

It was no mystery that space had torn and his subordinates had been cleaved to pieces.

The commander now realized the young man had reached the realm of Fire and Sword Fusion.

In that moment, he shouted reflexively,

“First Unit, Second Unit—go!”

Snapping back to their senses, the two elites sprang into motion.

Their duty was not to protect their commander.

Their orders were clear: dispose of the laborers. Erase the evidence.

While the commander stalled the youth for as long as he could.

And then...

If escape seemed impossible, they would resort to the final contingency.

But those thoughts never had a chance to reach their end.

Something tore clean through the backs of both men.

First Unit felt a coldness like piercing ice.

Second Unit felt a heat like searing flame.

Kwak Yeon had released opposing forces—dividing his internal strength into Twin Yin Energies, directing them separately through each hand.

The commander saw it clearly: one of the young man’s hands shimmered white with frost, like glass kissed by winter. The other burned crimson, like molten iron pulled from a forge.

And the distance—nearly ten jang.

Yet he had pierced through them as if touching flesh.

Such force was not unthinkable for a master of Fire and Sword Fusion.

But doing so with both hands at once?

That was no mere Twin Yang Technique.

There were no martial arts in the known world that allowed two completely different forms of energy to be released simultaneously from either hand.

The commander understood then: this young master was not merely a first-rate expert. He was something far beyond.

He exhaled, bitter and dazed.

“...So, you had your reasons for confidence after all.”

“...”

“But why wait?”

“I wanted the two men you kept at your side to pass close by me first,” Kwak Yeon replied coolly. “I made a vow not to leave a single one of you alive. If they'd run in opposite directions, chasing them down would have been an annoyance.”

And with those calm words, the commander realized—the young man had planned this from the very beginning.

That’s why he stood just beyond the steps.

To get to the lower levels, First and Second Unit had to pass within range.

“You... you anticipated our every move.”

Resignation crept into the commander’s voice.

“I’ve had my share of experience with those who reek of dirty work,” Kwak Yeon said. “Especially those who belong to so-called orthodox sects. They obsess over erasing all evidence.”

The moment he emphasized the words orthodox sect, the commander’s brow twitched.

Kwak Yeon continued without pause.

“I also know you’ve been conflicted, Commander.”

“...?”

“You accepted that fine tea gift, then threw it straight into the fire. From where I stood, it looked like your conscience stirred.”

“You... were watching from inside the Commander’s Quarters?” the man muttered. “Well, I suppose, at your level, entering and exiting someone’s chambers is no different than walking through your own courtyard.”

“Let’s do this, Commander. I’ll give you one final chance to listen to your conscience. Let’s share a cup of tea. After that, whatever decision you make, I will respect it.”

The commander was silent for a moment, then said with a faint smile,

“To share tea with a master of Fire and Sword Fusion—that would be an honor indeed. But you, my friend... though supreme in martial arts, are far too green in the ways of the world.”

“...”

“Next time, don’t make such a naive mistake. Kugh!”

A stream of dark, inky blood spilled from the commander’s lips.

“There are times... when one must uphold an oath, even if it stands against his own beliefs.”

Kwak Yeon watched silently as the man collapsed, his body crumpling without resistance.

As he listened to the man’s final breath, Kwak Yeon spoke softly.

“Your loyalty is worthy of respect. But that doesn’t mean the shadow behind you will remain hidden.”

“...?”

“I’ve already decided to strip that shadow bare.”

“...Ghkk?”

“Rest for now. Just for a little while. When you cross over, you’ll have to face the many souls who await you on the other side.”

The commander, in his fading gaze, saw that the young man’s words were sincere.

He knew then: that final gesture had truly been for his sake.

****

In the center of the palisade courtyard, Sub-leader Wangseok now stood alone.

Surrounding him were dozens of laborers, forming a silent ring.

Though his internal energy had been drained, he still stood tall like a true martial man.

He would not cower before these lowly mountain peasants.

But he was furious.

That so-called "heroic" young master had kept his promise—by placing him right in the middle of this yard.

“Whether they forgive you or not is another matter entirely.”

Wangseok clenched his teeth with a grinding snarl.

He never imagined that arrogant brat would toss him to the wolves like this.

He had assumed the young man would be like most of those fledgling heroes—always talking about honor, always soft-hearted in the end.

That’s why Wangseok had clung to the hope that the boy’s lack of experience would give him a path to survival.

And now this.

“If they choose to forgive you, I won’t interfere further.”

Those words echoed in his head. At first, Wangseok considered bowing to the laborers, begging for their mercy.

But he dismissed that notion almost immediately.

No one in this place knew better than he how the laborers had been treated.

He had beaten more than a few to death himself—simply because they’d irritated him.

And he always reported it as an “accident” to the commander and the masked men.

A man like me... even if I grovel, there's no way they'd forgive me.

So he made his decision.

He would remain proud to the very end—just as he had ruled this mine like the King of Hell.

All he had to do was make it to the palisade gates without being touched.

If the laborers let him pass, the young master had said he would no longer interfere.

At first, Wangseok couldn’t comprehend why the young man would bother with something like this.

But in the end, the reason didn’t matter.

This was his one chance.

His energy might be gone, but he still had his martial training. Even unarmed, he was confident he could flatten any rabble that dared to stand in his way.

Feeling his confidence rise, Wangseok raised his voice in a threat.

“Anyone who blocks my path, I’ll smash your skull open!”

The laborers flinched.

Seeing that, Wangseok’s confidence swelled even further.

There it is. Once a rat bows before a cat, it’ll always be a rat.

He silently praised himself for standing tall.

You pathetic, cowardly rodents... this is why you suffered.

He lifted his chin proudly and squared his shoulders.

The more he asserted ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) his presence, the lower their heads would fall.

The strong rule.

That’s how this world works.

Sub-leader Wangseok bared his teeth, growling at the few trembling rats blocking the path to the palisade gate.

“Step aside now! Don’t get yourselves killed at the last moment out of sheer bad luck!”

The laborers flinched and backed away.

Emboldened, Wangseok shouted louder.

“Yes! That’s it! Just like that! Who cares about anything else? What matters now is not getting your skull cracked open. Just keep doing what you've always done—and this nightmare ends right here!”

But then, a voice rose from among the laborers.

“Wangseok! A butcher like you doesn’t get to walk away!”

Wangseok’s eyes flared with rage.

“Who said that?! If you’ve got something to say, come out here and say it to my face!”

“Screw you! Eat this, you bastard!”

A hunk of raw ore came flying out of the crowd, slamming into the back of Wangseok’s head.

—THWACK!

“You son of a bitch! Which one of you did that?! I’ll rip your damn mouth open before I kill you!”

He should never have said that.

The moment the words left his mouth, the laborers’ eyes changed.

Too late, Wangseok realized his mistake. The pain had made him lash out like he always did—but that cruelty was the spark that ignited their rage.

“You bastard butcher! You’re the one who should die!”

Another lump of ore came flying.

Wangseok twisted his body just in time to dodge it—but he couldn’t avoid the next.

—THUMP!

He raised his arm to shield himself, but the impact drove pain through his bones.

“Aaagh!”

Another chunk hurtled toward him.

—CRACK!

Struck in the forehead, Wangseok staggered back. The laborers erupted into cheers.

“Ha! He’s nothing after all!”

“That’s right! He only acted tough with a sword and a gang behind him. He’s worthless!”

“Come on, everyone, get your hits in! Even if he starts begging, we should beat him to death!”

“Hands off his face—that one’s mine!”

Rocks rained down.

Huge chunks of ore came flying like hail.

The swaggering Wangseok turned pale in an instant.

—THWACK! CRACK! THUNK!

There were too many projectiles to fend off. His flailing arms were useless now.

The pain became unbearable. He dropped to his knees, clutching his head.

“I... I was wrong! I admit it—I was wrong! Please, spare me!”

His desperate cries only stoked their fury.

“You bastard! When Chun-sam begged you like that, did you show him mercy?!”

“This one’s for Yong-chil! Die!”

“Shut your damn mouth and die!”

—CRUNCH! SMASH! THUD!

Even as the stones piled high around him, Wangseok miraculously remained conscious.

But then, a particularly large hunk struck him square in the skull.

And he collapsed like a sack of meat.

“WAAAAAHHH!”

The laborers roared with victory.

Still, the storm of stones did not stop. Only when the central yard of the palisade was covered in a mound of ore did the rain finally cease.

Wangseok’s body had vanished—buried beneath a crude mountain of rock.

Overseer So Seok-ha watched it all in horror, his face ghost-pale.

He knew exactly where the laborers’ fury would turn next.

He crawled forward on hands and knees, prostrating himself at Kwak Yeon’s feet.

“Great Hero... please... please spare me.”

But Kwak Yeon’s voice was cold.

“I’m not the one you should be asking.”

“But... but those people... they’re not in their right minds right now.”

“And when you tricked them into signing those contracts, were you in your right mind?”

“Great Hero, I...”

“Do you know why I let you and Wangseok live?”

“To give us a chance to apologize... to beg them for forgiveness?”

Kwak Yeon shook his head.

“No. So they could see for themselves that you’re nothing. So they could begin to cleanse the terror that’s taken root in their hearts.”

“...I...”

“They’re rediscovering a rage they had long forgotten. A fury they were forced to swallow while being treated like animals—even worse. They had no sin, no crime, and yet they were trampled.”

He fixed his gaze on So Seok-ha, eyes piercing like frost.

“Only if they reclaim that anger will they stop living in submission. Only then can they return to their families as whole human beings.”

A pause.

Then Kwak Yeon asked quietly,

“Don’t you think they deserve at least that much?”