Wudang Sacred Scriptures

At Kwak Yeon’s question, the half-grey elder of the Four Evils of Heaven curved his lips into a thin smile.

“Of course we know the martial world’s taboo—that civilians are not to be touched. We’ve abided by it, more or less, till now. The Martial Alliance’s hunting parties are nuisance enough, but nothing is more troublesome than when the eunuchs of the palace hound us.”

By eunuchs, he meant the masters of the Eastern Depot.

No matter the principle of non-interference between officials and the martial world, would the Emperor who ruled the empire truly leave martial affairs entirely unchecked?

Thus was the Eastern Depot created: an organization dedicated to punishing martial men and sects that slaughtered civilians.

Over time, the Depot’s presence had grown so great that even the Four Evils of Heaven—who boasted of fearing nothing under Heaven—kept wary eyes upon them.

“Yet this time, why did we kill? The reason is simple... because of you.”

Even as his fury rose, Kwak Yeon listened.

“You’ve been so elusive, so ghostlike, that we suffered no end of trouble. We chased your trail clear across half of Jiangxi, only to find you lagging behind in Hengshan, Hunan. Do you know how absurd that was?”

Suddenly Kwak Yeon recalled Danmok Seong’s words—how he had gone to Jiangxi seeking him and returned empty-handed.

Because he had lingered in Sangjeon Village, not only Danmok Seong but also these pursuers had been thrown into confusion.

“Once we finally learned your path, we hurried here. But if you had slipped past, what then? What would that have made of us?”

“That would make you no more than a dog chasing a chicken, would it not?”

The elder’s eyes rolled white again. Kwak Yeon continued.

“So that was why you did something so vile—to keep me from passing by?”

The elder nodded.

“In the mountains there were no proper signposts to draw your attention. Then along came the merchants. Better still, one of them babbled to the old couple of the inn that he had met a young Taoist of Wudang in Hengshan and that he would soon be coming this way.”

Thud!

Kwak Yeon’s chest caved once more. So it was the merchants’ simple pride in having met a Taoist of Wudang that had doomed them.

“I am but a hermit, a mere cave-dwelling Taoist—what was there to be proud of?”

He cursed the tongue that had revealed his identity.

Had he been to them no more than a passing guest, they would still be smiling as they trod the mountain road.

The elder ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) watched his stricken expression with amusement and went on.

“What better signpost than men who had shared the table of the Dark Cavern Taoist of Wudang? As expected, you hurried here. The signpost served its purpose well.”

He laughed as though it were nothing, though he had butchered men only to leave their corpses as markers.

Kwak Yeon suppressed the rising fire and asked again.

“And why kill the old couple of the inn? Even a dog does not bite the hand that feeds it.”

“Mm, to call us worse than dogs to our faces—that is harsh.”

Though he said so, the elder’s lips curled upward. The more Kwak Yeon’s anger grew, the more it favored them.

He continued smoothly, baiting him.

“We never meant to kill the old pair. As you said, they were kind enough to feed us while we stayed. And lest you think otherwise—we did not leave without paying. We of the Four Evils of Heaven are masters of the demonic path, not rabble. We paid handsomely—though not in coin, of course.”

They had thrown the merchants’ belongings to the couple as payment.

Words of contempt, worse than dogs, burned in Kwak Yeon’s throat.

They would never understand what pain they had inflicted—human refuse, unworthy of rebirth.

“And our Third Brother Deuk even split firewood for them. True, he simply likes splitting things, but still, it was help. Yet those ungrateful old wretches dared put foul things in our food—tiannanxing and the Seven-Step Snake besides.”

Kwak Yeon imagined the trembling old couple, slipping poisons into the dishes.

The traveling merchants were like sons to them. Perhaps that was why they had built the inn in that lonely valley in the first place—to welcome them without shame.

At their age, what need had they for wealth?

To see those merchants, their foster children, slaughtered—surely it was as though the sky had fallen. In that grief, what would they not have done?

But their knowledge of poison was shallow, and they had not known that their enemies were the vilest demons under Heaven.

“To poison a guest—whatever the reason—is unforgivable.”

“So you killed them, and call it justice?”

Kwak Yeon locked eyes with the elder’s rolling whites.

“As the very ones who drove that guileless couple to such desperation, it ill suits you to say so.”

His tone dropped the last of courtesy.

He had no need to address them as men any longer.

One question remained, but it was not one that words could answer.

Instead, he asked the primal question.

“You won’t name your employer. But by your own boasting of fame, the sum must have been high. Tell me—what was the price on my life?”

The elder’s eyes rolled again.

“You’re not so ignorant of the world, then.”

“To hound a stranger to death across the land must have reason.”

Provoked, the elder chuckled.

“As bold as I’d heard. We’ve taken many contracts, but you’re the first to ask the worth of your own head.”

“Killing you won’t bring the dead back, but to console their kin, the more wealth I strip from your corpses, the better.”

“So be it. If you long so much to know, I’ll tell you. The down payment was one thousand gold taels, with nine thousand more upon completion. A full ten thousand taels. The price of a clan master. Not a poor sum.”

“A clan master’s head, is it? I had not thought mine so dear.”

“Then you should have guarded it better.”

“Thanks to you, I know now. I will guard it well.”

“Tch. The problem is—you have no future left.”

Again his eyes rolled.

But this time, they did not merely roll. His whole eyes turned white, spilling a baleful aura.

Suddenly, Kwak Yeon felt searing pain in his wrists.

—Clack!

—Craack!

Iron shackles materialized, locking both wrists and crushing down.

“Got him!”

“Kyahah! Brother Ga, today I was the quicker!”

At some point, the red-faced man and the ghost-faced woman had each seized one of his wrist acupoints, the vital Maekmun.

Though not a killing acupoint, once seized it stopped qi circulation, leaving one helpless. It was the point most targeted by the masters of the Grip-Hand technique, and the one martial men guarded above all.

That Kwak Yeon, a master of the Fire Realm, should be caught so easily by them was inconceivable.

And it did not end there.

Through both wrists, the invaders’ inner true qi poured in—yet utterly opposed in nature.

The red-faced man’s was burning, searing yang qi. The ghost-faced woman’s was bitterly freezing yin qi.

With his qi blocked, resisting such opposed forces was near impossible.

The elder released his baleful white gaze.

“Surprised?”

Kwak Yeon replied evenly,

“A little.”

“You don’t yet understand, so I’ll explain. One must know by whose hand he dies, to cross the Hall of Yama in peace.”

A man who died ignorant became a wandering ghost.

“I’ve no wish to go there yet. But if you explain, I’ll listen.”

“Still mouthing off at death’s door. Impressive.”

The elder inclined his head.

“I am Ma Geollyang, called the White-Eyed Fiend of Forgetfulness. At your right wrist is our second brother, the Red-Blooded Judge Ga Yu. The pale sister with your left is the Ghost-Wind Harpy, Yeong So, whom we call White Sister. And behind you stands our third brother, the Blood-Cleaving Demon, Deuk Gigon. For reference, Brother Deuk will soon cleave you neatly in half.”

—Shuaaaang!

The air behind him split with force enough to ruffle his hair, yet Kwak Yeon gazed steadily at the White-Eyed Fiend.

“As you’ve guessed from my title, what caught you was my signature art, the Soul-Seizing Demon Eye. That is why you failed to perceive my brothers closing in.”

“So all that eye-rolling of yours—merely to set up that art?”

The White-Eyed Fiend frowned faintly at the mockery.

“Perceptive. Yes. The Soul-Seizing Demon Eye requires a glance, to steal the opponent’s soul in an instant. To do so, I must draw his gaze into mine—especially against a master of the Fire Realm like you.”

“So that was why you had me sit before you, and so politely answered my questions?”

“Exactly.”

The elder nodded, then asked,

“Well then—what think you, of facing the Soul-Seizing Demon Eye?”