Chapter 343

SWISH!

THUD!

Uncheon Zhenren cleaved apart the blood fiend blocking the way before the boulder pile, then turned to Peng Seong-u and Yue Yeong-bo.

“You two have done well, remaining until the very end. Unit Leader Peng, Unit Leader Yue—you may withdraw now.”

Peng Seong-u and Yue Yeong-bo immediately offered sword salutes.

“We are deeply grateful for your great kindness, Commander.”

“We pray that we may see you safe again soon, Commander.”

Uncheon Zhenren gave a slight nod and turned away.

He still had to deal with the blood fiends charging toward them from deeper inside Gourd Sky.

KRAAACK!

The sound of the Sword of Wudang’s Songmun Sword slicing through the air echoed through Gourd Sky.

Peng Seong-u and Yue Yeong-bo hurriedly launched themselves toward the mound of boulders blocking the entrance.

Uncheon Zhenren was holding back the blood fiends so that they, the last men remaining, could escape.

TAP! TAP! TAP!

Peng Seong-u was a step behind Yue Yeong-bo, bounding upward from rock to rock, when a piercing shriek of air shot toward his back.

WHIIINE!

As befitted a peak-level expert of the Hebei Peng Family, his qi sense screamed a warning.

Peng Seong-u twisted around and swung his treasured Thunderbolt Saber.

SWOOOSH!

THUD!

But the Thunderbolt Saber cut uselessly through empty air.

The object hurtling toward him with that piercing shriek had already slipped inside the arc of his saber.

“...?”

Peng Seong-u stared at the pitch-black arrow buried in his chest without any sense that what he was seeing could be real.

Even if his back had been turned, he was still a peak-level expert.

An arrow had actually struck him?

Then he noticed that everything about it was black—the shaft, even the feathers.

A black arrow.

The unmistakable signature of Jwa Ye-geuk, reputed to be the finest archer in the orthodox martial world.

His epithet, Never Turn Your Back Within a Hundred Paces, had not been earned for nothing.

As his inner power and true qi scattered and his body went rigid, Peng Seong-u pitched forward and tumbled down the boulder pile.

CRASH!

THUD!

“Unit Leader Peng?”

Startled by the sudden turn of events, Elder Yue Yeong-bo of the Shandong Yue Family halted halfway up and turned around.

WHIIINE!

By the time Yue heard the piercing shriek, the black arrow was already within three steps of him.

Rather than try to knock it aside with his sword, Yue twisted his body.

THUD! CRACK!

The bone beneath his shoulder shattered, but he kept the arrow from punching through his chest.

He staggered.

The tremendous impact threw him off balance, and he toppled sideways.

WHIIIIINE!

By the time another black arrow came screaming toward him, Yue Yeong-bo had disappeared beyond the boulder pile.

Recognizing the black arrow for what it was, he had used every ounce of strength he possessed to throw himself over the far side.

Uncheon Zhenren flew into a towering rage when he saw the two Unit Leaders struck by the arrows.

SWOOOSH!

SPLAT!

He split the last blood fiend in half, then hurled his Songmun Sword toward the place from which the arrows had come.

KRAAACK!

The Songmun Sword became a streak of light that tore through the darkness.

At Uncheon Zhenren’s level, darkness was merely a slight inconvenience.

And once an opponent had revealed their presence, there was no escaping his senses.

KRAAACK!

Jwa Ye-geuk had been concealed between the rocks beneath a camouflage cloth.

There was no way for him to evade Uncheon Zhenren’s Qi-Guided Sword.

He raised his Black-Iron Strongbow to block.

BOOOOM!

CRAAACK!

With a thunderous report, the Black-Iron Strongbow shattered into pieces.

But it had managed to stop the sword once.

SWOOOSH!

As the Songmun Sword rebounded upward and wheeled through the air, Jwa Ye-geuk sprang from his hiding place and shouted.

“Uncheon Zhenren! I, Jwa Ye-geuk, have something to say. Please stay your sword for a moment!”

Since Jwa had revealed himself and even announced his identity, Uncheon opened his hand and recalled the Songmun Sword.

He could take the man’s life whenever he wished.

He decided to hear what Jwa had to say first.

THUMP!

WHISH!

The moment the Songmun Sword returned to his hand, Uncheon pointed it at Jwa Ye-geuk.

“Corps Commander Jwa, even if you have abandoned the Martial Alliance and chosen a new master, how can you be so utterly heartless? Was betraying yesterday’s comrades not enough? You even shoot men in the back as they retreat!”

HUMMM!

White sword aura surged from the Songmun Sword.

“Do you truly have no fear of Heaven?”

Uncheon Zhenren’s presence bore down upon Jwa Ye-geuk’s entire body, yet Jwa showed not the slightest trace of fear.

Instead, he answered calmly.

“Zhenren, that is precisely what I would like to ask you.”

“...?”

“After Wudang sold thousands of its comrades to their deaths, how does it still dare stand beneath Heaven as though nothing happened?”

The point of Uncheon Zhenren’s Songmun Sword trembled faintly.

Seeing it, Jwa Ye-geuk gave a cold sneer and continued.

“So even you feel the weight of this place, Uncheon Zhenren. And why wouldn’t you? You have returned to the very ground where thousands of orthodox martial artists died unjustly during the Eight Desolations Upheaval.”

Those words made Uncheon realize that their arrival in the Valley of Dark Mourning today had been planned down to the smallest detail.

Tremble...

The Songmun Sword shook.

Not because Uncheon was enraged at having fallen for the enemy’s scheme.

The dagger hidden within Jwa Ye-geuk’s words had pierced a lifelong wound buried deep within his heart.

“Corps Commander Jwa, at the time, we of Wudang did not know that the Gathering Demons Division had concentrated its forces here in the Valley of Dark Mourning.”

Jwa Ye-geuk answered coldly.

“That day, the martial artists of the smaller orthodox sects were thrown into Gourd Sky as bait, allowing Wudang to circle around and win a great victory. Wudang itself suffered almost no losses. Are you truly telling me that was mere coincidence?”

“...No. It was not coincidence.”

A deep shadow fell over Uncheon Zhenren’s face.

“But this humble Taoist can swear to you that Wudang as a whole learned the truth only afterward.”

“Not everyone in Wudang was ignorant of it.”

Jwa Ye-geuk firmly shook his head.

“I hear that the mule-headed Taoist Unhak—the man who devised and carried out that filthy scheme—is still alive and well on Mount Wudang. I hear he even rose to Grand Elder and is now serving as acting Sect Leader.”

Uncheon Zhenren’s expression turned stricken.

“What happened during the Eight Desolations Upheaval was truly regrettable. This humble Taoist has carried that burden in his heart ever since.”

“There is no need for you to apologize, Zhenren. You will soon offer your own flesh to console the wandering souls of those who died here.”

Uncheon regarded him with a pained expression.

“So that is what you came forward to tell me. You intend to make this humble Taoist the sacrifice at their memorial rite.”

Jwa Ye-geuk’s eyes were cold.

“We went to great lengths to bring you here today. If we are to console the thousands of wronged souls who died here, should we not at least sprinkle the blood of the Sword of Wudang over the ground?”

Uncheon Zhenren replied evenly.

“Corps Commander Jwa, you must be kin to someone who died that day. I understand your resentment and your anger. But I cannot forgive the evil you committed today by joining hands with wicked forces.”

HUMMM!

Sword aura rose around the Songmun Sword as Uncheon continued.

“Neither you nor these monsters created through sorcery will be enough to deal with this humble Taoist. You must have prepared some other measure. If so, bring it out quickly. I bear heavy responsibilities within the campaign force, and I must leave this place without delay.”

Even while speaking with Jwa Ye-geuk, Uncheon had kept his attention on the sounds of fierce fighting beyond the boulder pile.

The sounds were gradually receding and growing less frequent.

That told him the campaign force was withdrawing from the Valley of Dark Mourning.

There might be yet another danger waiting outside the valley.

Uncheon could not afford to waste too much time on Jwa Ye-geuk.

“As expected of the Sword of Wudang.”

Jwa Ye-geuk nodded readily.

“But there is no other measure. I merely invited two gentlemen here. The problem is that those two prefer to avoid the eyes of the world, so I had to step forward and clear the surroundings for them.”

“...?”

Uncheon found the statement so unexpected that he could only stare.

A cold smile touched Jwa Ye-geuk’s lips.

“Once you see them for yourself, Zhenren, all your questions will be answered.”

Uncheon Zhenren looked upward.

He had sensed two currents of presence descending from above.

“...!”

His eyes widened as two figures drifted gracefully down from the cliffs of Gourd Sky.

One was an old man dressed entirely in black.

The other was an old man dressed entirely in white.

Those two...!

RUSTLE...

RUSTLE...

The two old men in black and white landed lightly on the floor of Gourd Sky.

Uncheon Zhenren was genuinely shaken.

He could scarcely believe that these two had appeared here.

They were people who seemed utterly out of place in a battlefield such as this.

No—

He had never imagined that he would encounter these two men in the martial world again at all.

Even in his astonishment, Uncheon clasped his hands respectfully toward them.

“This is Uncheon of Wudang. It has been far too long since I last paid my respects to the honored elders in black and white.”

“It has indeed been a long time, Zhenren.”

The white-clad old man gave a slight nod.

“But for you to address two old servants of a single household with such honor is more than we deserve.”

The black-clad old man added,

“These old servants would be grateful if Zhenren simply treated us as old men.”

It was true that the two were merely servants of a certain household.

But the fact that the household in question was anything but ordinary weighed heavily upon Uncheon Zhenren’s heart.

“What brings the two of you to seek out this humble Taoist?”

Good men do not come; those who come do not come with good intentions.

Uncheon Zhenren was well aware that these two had not appeared out of goodwill.

They had come into the middle of a blood-soaked battlefield and had sent Jwa Ye-geuk, the architect of this slaughter, ahead as their messenger.

Their intentions could hardly be clearer.

Yet Uncheon still had to ask.

The appearance of these two men might well be a portent that would overturn a thousand years of martial history.

The white-clad old man calmly replied with a question of his own.

“Zhenren, how could servants of a household move on their own authority? Naturally, we have come to carry out our master’s command.”

The black-clad old man continued.

“Our master ordered these two old servants to hunt down the fierce tiger that descended from Mount Wudang.”

From the moment the two men had appeared, Uncheon had suspected as much.

But hearing it stated outright still struck him hard.

Not because the two had openly declared their intention to take his life.

Rather, because their words laid bare the identity of the force operating behind the curtain of the martial world.

For a thousand years of martial history, the household these two served had always been counted among the strongest.

There had been minor rises and declines over the generations, but its position had never truly changed.

Yet because the family remained secluded and almost never involved itself directly in the martial world, most martial artists rarely gave its existence much thought.

It was like the sun in the sky—always there, yet so far beyond reach that people seldom stopped to consider it.

But in every age, the greatest masters of the orthodox path, the unorthodox path, and the demonic path had felt the weight of that family’s existence.

Whenever any one of those three great forces threatened to overwhelm the others and dominate the martial world, that household would send people out.

The first time Uncheon Zhenren had seen these two old men had been during the Eight Desolations Upheaval.

That upheaval had ended with a message from the head of their household:

The Demonic Eight Divisions were not to be exterminated.

The household had been, in a sense, the counterweight that preserved the balance of the martial world.

And now its master had declared an end to the role the family had maintained for generations.

No—

It would be more accurate to say that the force once used to preserve the balance was now being turned toward taking control of the martial world itself.

Uncheon Zhenren needed to confirm that truth.

“Honored elders, for what purpose did the Martial Sage order you to bring him the head of an insignificant Taoist such as myself?”