Wudang Sacred Scriptures-Chapter 85

Overseer So Seok-ha wet himself in short spurts as he pleaded.

“Great Hero, I beg you... show mercy...”

“I will say it once more—mercy is not mine to give. Beg it from those you have wronged. Who knows? They may yet show you grace.”

As the laborers approached him, Overseer So Seok-ha hurriedly dropped to the ground and bowed his head.

“I was truly in the wrong! I will compensate each and every one of you! I’ll sell everything I own and divide it among you!”

Pressing his forehead to the dirt, he shouted in desperation.

“Beating a wretch like me to death—what good would that do you? A nyang of silver... no, two nyang each, you’ll all get your share!”

An older laborer stepped forward.

“Hey, Overseer So. You love silver so much, is that it? That’s why you did all this? Do you think the rest of us would have done what you did, just for coin?”

“No, no! I only meant that I want to make things right... however I can...”

“Overseer So, how will you make things right for the ones who died? Do you even know how many white bones lie rotting in those tunnels? How do you intend to pay for their lives?”

“I swear—I never thought it would come to this. All I did was find laborers as instructed by the Sangbang master...”

“You bastard! Do you remember what you promised us yourself? That nothing bad would happen on the transport route, that we’d be back soon, that the rumors were all lies—you said that with your own damn mouth!”

“I was wrong! I was blinded by money...”

“You sold your conscience for silver, is that it? Fine. Then let’s feed you what you love so dearly—until you burst.”

“Wh-what...?”

The older laborer turned to a group of thin men standing to the side.

“You fellows from the Furnace Hall probably bear the deepest grudge. How about it? Wouldn’t it feel right to personally fill this greedy bastard’s mouth with silver?”

“To give our Furnace Hall folks that honor... we’d be grateful.”

Several of the men, those with strength left in their bodies, stepped into the storehouse. Soon, they emerged, holding a crucible glowing with heat, set in a wooden brace. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

Inside the crucible, molten silver churned and boiled.

Overseer So Seok-ha was struck with horror.

“No... surely not... that...?”

One of the laborers from the Furnace Hall sneered.

“You did all this filth for silver, didn’t you? Today, we’re giving you all you could ever want. You should be thankful.”

“Sirs, please... I’m begging you... spare me!”

But several men held down his limbs, and two others forced his mouth open.

“Grrk, grrk!”

Overseer So Seok-ha thrashed and screamed, but not a single word came out clearly.

And then, as the boiling crucible was brought inches from his face, he let loose a stream of urine once again.

Two laborers, one on each side, gripped the crucible brace and tilted it toward his open mouth.

— Chrrrsshh!

The bubbling silver poured into his mouth, and the sound of flesh burning filled the air.

— Sssssszzzz!

Amid the crackling, a bubbling gurgle echoed as the molten metal overflowed his lips, and then began to drain downward.

It was flowing down his throat, into his stomach.

His limbs convulsed violently—then fell still.

Even then, the pouring didn’t stop.

Only when the silver began spilling back out of his mouth did the Furnace Hall laborers cease the pouring.

“Damn... the bastard nearly swallowed the whole pot. I knew he was greedy, but I didn’t think he’d eat that much of it.”

At last, the laborers let out a satisfied cheer.

Waaaahhhh!

Kwak Yeon watched as the shadows of their nightmare were, in some small part, washed away.

It was brutal. But when he thought of the wounds carved into their hearts, he could not judge it wrong.

Without this, they might never emerge from the trauma of what had been done to them.

The belief that even such human scum could be overcome—that was the first step to healing.

Only after the cheers and roars had died down did Kwak Yeon finally step forward.

The laborers waited with expectation, watching him closely.

But Kwak Yeon knew—any grand words, any attempt at comfort, would only reopen their wounds.

The darkness of submission... must be escaped by one’s own strength.

So he chose instead to stay true to the purpose that had brought him here.

“Is there someone here named Seo Cheong-sam?”

Kwak Yeon waited, his mind distant.

He didn’t think he could bear the sight of Seo’s wife and children in tears if he failed.

Please...

Time slowed, as if the world itself had halted. Yet his heart beat furiously.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

At last, someone among the laborers slowly raised a hand—and only then did Kwak Yeon’s wild heart begin to calm.

“Boundless life to the Buddha...”

The Daoist invocation left Kwak Yeon’s lips before he could stop it.

Seo Cheong-sam looked gaunt, hollow, barely alive.

He was one of the few survivors among those who had arrived with the group—and the only one still laboring in the tunnels.

When he was called by the military aide of the Provincial Governor of Hunan, Seo Cheong-sam thought it must be a dream.

If you spend too long deep in the mines, sometimes you see visions of home. Like those dreams, he assumed this too was an illusion.

That he would wake, and the bitterness of reality would return.

But then—

Clasp.

The young martial officer who had come in the name of the Hunan Provincial Governor took his hands.

And they were warm.

So real.

And then—

“Thank you.”

‘Thank me...?’

Seo Cheong-sam thought again that this must be a dream—that someone so noble, so refined, could never speak such words to a countryside fool like him.

“I promised your wife and children I would find you. Thank you—for surviving.”

“Ah...”

From Seo Cheong-sam’s parched eyes, tears finally fell.

They were hot.

And in that heat, he knew at last—this was no dream.

His knees gave out beneath him, and he collapsed where he stood, sobbing uncontrollably.

Kwak Yeon could say no more.

Within that one man’s tears lived too many things:

Regret. Injustice. Sorrow. Resentment toward fate...

But among all those storming emotions, the one that reigned above them all—rendering the rest almost petty—was surely the love he held for his family.

The reason he had endured this hell until now... was because he clung to the will to return to them no matter what.

Kwak Yeon understood with vivid clarity what had given him such strength.

“The heart is stronger than anything.”

He now fully grasped a core truth within the Art of the Everchanging Origin: that neither willpower nor mental clarity could ever surpass the power of the heart.

Emotion shapes momentum; intention triumphs over force.

(Injeongjose, Uiseungnyeok )

Moved by Seo Cheong-sam’s tears, the other laborers also began to weep. More and more could be heard sniffling aloud.

Watching them, Kwak Yeon—perhaps for the first time—felt genuine gratitude for having taken the path of martial cultivation.

A soft halo of light swept gently through his meridian channels.

****

The atmosphere in the Grand Elder’s Hall was oppressive.

“A reply has arrived from the Martial Alliance,” said Grand Elder Yunhak Jin-in, breaking the heavy silence.

At his words, the Palace Lords of the Six Palaces all turned their eyes toward him.

“To speak plainly, the Martial Alliance has stated they cannot involve themselves directly in this matter. However, they have expressed full support should we choose to punish the Demonic Alliance ourselves.”

Fury clouded the faces of the Six Palace Lords.

“To see the Demonic Alliance’s monstrous crimes and still stand idle—how can the Martial Alliance say this with a straight face?”

“Wasn’t the Martial Alliance founded precisely to oppose the likes of the Demonic Alliance and the Demonic Sect? Are they not now forsaking that very purpose?”

“Exactly! It was we of Wudang who first pushed for the Alliance’s founding and have always borne its burdens. To disregard us like this is no small insult.”

The Palace Lord of Jade Void Palace turned to the Grand Elder and asked,

“Then what, pray tell, has Elder Un-oh been doing during his dispatch to the Martial Alliance? Has he not even attended the Council of Elders?”

“He sent word that even he could do nothing. The representatives of the Eight Great Sects and Five Noble Houses responded with only lukewarm attitudes—he had no support to move forward.”

The Palace Lord of Black Tortoise Palace finally spoke in a low voice.

“Grand Elder, what reason did the Martial Alliance give ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) for refusing action?”

Yunhak Jin-in answered.

“They claim there is insufficient justification to engage the Demonic Alliance in full-scale war. Additionally, the emergence of the Eight Desolate Division complicates the timing.”

“But the Demonic Alliance publicly declared they slaughtered everyone in Zhengwuguan. How is that not justification?”

“Precisely because of that. They assert Zhengwuguan violated the orthodox–unorthodox pact by deceiving and destroying the Black Snake Gang, and thus claim their retaliation was just.”

“Does the Martial Alliance not realize that’s a flimsy excuse?”

“How could they not know?”

“Then why...?”

The Grand Elder’s brow furrowed at the Black Tortoise Palace Lord’s quiet demand.

An uneasy silence blanketed the Grand Elder’s Hall.

Everyone there knew—Wudang’s affiliated clans had recently been expanding their business ventures with some aggression. That had led to increasing frictions with factions aligned with the Demonic Alliance.

Finally, Grand Elder Yunhak Jin-in broke the silence again.

“The Zhengwuguan massacre is truly maddening. All they did was bring order to Geyang-hyeon after the Black Snake Gang disbanded of its own accord.”

“Then, Grand Elder, what will you do about this?”

The Six Palace Lords watched him intently.

“To be frank,” said Yunhak Jin-in, “it would be no easy thing for Wudang alone to launch a full-scale war against the Demonic Alliance.”

“Then are we to bury the sacrifice of the Zhengwuguan disciples?”

“I do not mean to bury it. Only... to delay vengeance for a time.”

“If Wudang makes no response to the Demonic Alliance, our reputation will be trampled.”

“If the Palace Lords agree, I propose we announce that—out of concern for the greater good of the martial world and in deference to the Martial Alliance’s suggestion—we will withhold action for now, given the unrest caused by the Eight Desolate Division.”

It wasn’t a poor choice.

A solo war with the Demonic Alliance would bring enormous losses. By restraining themselves, Wudang could maintain a stance of magnanimous compromise—placing the burden of moral debt on the Martial Alliance.

Years ago, when the Martial Alliance’s Great Demon Prison was breached, the demonic beings of the Eight Desolate Division had escaped.

Since then, they had vanished... only now to begin surfacing again throughout the martial world.

“But those directly involved in the Zhengwuguan massacre—I intend to eliminate them immediately.”

“You mean the Black Execution Unit as well?”

“Of course. We will declare them Wudang’s highest priority enemies and hunt them to the last.”

As the Palace Lords nodded solemnly, Grand Elder Yunhak Jin-in continued,

“Each Palace Lord shall recommend one First-Class Disciple and five Second-Class Disciples. From them, we shall form the Pursuit Unit.”

Yunhak Jin-in intended this moment to make clear to all: the sword of Wudang still cut sharper than ever.

Once the Palace Lords had departed, he summoned the head monk of the Hye-gak Institute.

“Master, you called for me?”

“Climb to Three Spirits Peak immediately. Go and confirm whether that boy is in the Three Spirits Palace.”

The monk’s eyes widened.

“That boy... you mean...?”