Chương 17: Wàng Yuè

As Chae-ha went to collect her used needles, Mu-cheon let his breath out in a controlled sigh.

"Alright, I get it. So what's the plan, Miss Strategist?" He pointed to an approaching knot of guards.

"Do we charge in?"

"No. We'll use the fourth mnemonic. I know you've trained it, senior brother." Mu-cheon blinked.

"The Thundering Voice? Why? What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to raise your voice and order everyone to recite Gazing Upon the Sacred Peak." The young man shook his head in disbelief.

"The poem we chant during training? Why?"

"Right now, this chaos is our biggest enemy. We need to do two things, immediately. First, we need to make it easier for the survivors to identify who is a friend, and who is not. Anyone that doesn't join the chant is assumed to be a puppet."

"And second?"

"Second, we need to give our remaining warriors something to rally around. A living Young Master who just killed a Specter should do." Chae-ha paused.

"This battlefield needs something more than a leader right now, Mu-cheon. It needs a hero. And you're the only one with any qualifications." Mu-cheon stared at her for a long moment before slowly turning. Taking a deep breath, the young man invoked the fourth mnemonic of the Chuk-ap-gyeol. Pressure flooded upwards, hammering against the seal in his throat until he forced open the Tian Tu point located there. What emerged was an earthshaking bellow:" TAI-SHAN WARRIORS! GUARDIANS OF THE PATH! FOLLOW MY LEAD!"

The booming command echoed clearly across the vanguard, almost deafening Chae-ha in the process. The young girl covered her ears with her hands, wincing in pain as he continued.

"ANYONE WHO CAN'T ANSWER IS THE ENEMY! WHAT IS MT. TAI, THE GREAT ANCESTOR?" His voice sliced through the cacophony of steel and madness, drowning out the gibbering of the puppets. For a moment, there was relative silence. Then a few ragged voices called back, disorganized and out of sync.

"The endless, verdant green, above both Qi and Lu!" Mu-cheon yelled back across the clearing, again and again, encouraging the men to chant. More voices slowly joined the chorus, the rhythm strengthening as the survivors began to reply with something resembling a single voice.

"AGAIN!" the young man screamed. The chant slowly grew into a synchronized, thunderous shout that vibrated through the battlefield. The immortal words of the Poet Sage, once meant to describe the natural beauty of China's greatest mountain, found new life as an anthem of war. What is Mt. Tai, the great ancestor? The endless verdant green, above both Qi and Lu. Here, nature has gathered all that is divine – To sever Yin from Yang; to split the dusk from dawn.

My chest heaves to see the birth of layered clouds; My eyes strain to see the birds return to roost. One day, I must ascend that immortal peak, And see how it makes all other mountains look small. As the chant began anew, Mu-cheon charged forward into the nearest group of guards. He saw one man chanting feverishly while an opponent clawed mercilessly at his face, leaving long streaks of blood where fingers were digging out flesh. He saw another doing the same while fending off multiple attackers.

When he had finished cutting down their respective assailants, the Young Master held up his sword, now drenched with blood. The Inner Disciple threw his head back, opened his mouth wide, and howled with all his might.

"ONE DAY, I MUST ASCEND THAT IMMORTAL PEAK!" The response that came echoing back was an earth-shaking, unified roar, filled with determination.

"AND SEE HOW IT MAKES ALL OTHER MOUNTAINS LOOK SMALL!" From behind him, a forgotten background character nodded approvingly, perfectly content to remain invisible. Ma Cheol-mi was on his last legs. His intimidating Cham-ma-do, once wielded with speed and grace, now dragged in the dirt as he moved. The Diplomacy Elder's robes were tattered and torn, having been shredded by repeated contact with dirt, rock, and a dozen near misses of the Ghost Elder's dagger. The Eye Demon, on the other hand, barely seemed winded.

When the chanting began, Elder Ma's first reaction was to open his mouth in bewildered surprise. His second was to raise his voice and join in. A small spark of renewed energy infused the Diplomacy Elder's movements as his enormous sword began to arc through the air again. The Young Master was alive – and was leading a rally. What elder of the Tai-shan sect would fail to do their part? The Ghost Elder was fast.

His form blurred as the assassin darted around with a series of short, quick dashes, changing directions with almost impossible suddenness. The only way Elder Ma was able to keep up was by rationing short bursts of pressure from the Chuk-ap-gyeol, using the releases to change his own direction or establish distance each time he got outmaneuvered. It was a technique taught as the third mnemonic: Kinetic Motion. His arms aching, the Diplomacy Elder strained to keep his greatsword spinning.

No matter what, he couldn't allow himself to fall here. He needed to last just half a ke more. A third of a ke. A single breath. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Sa Jeong-gwi lunged forward through a gap in the slashes, thrusting with his wicked poisoned dagger. Elder Ma turned to the side at the very last moment, allowing the blade to go sliding past his mid-section.

The nimble assassin converted the motion into an elbow strike, which landed painfully in the Diplomacy Elder's gut. The Ghost Elder stayed in close, trying to slip past and get to his opponent's side. Elder Ma released a burst of controlled pressure to push himself back and out of range. The Ghost Elder lunged again, refusing to let him establish distance. Their blades crossed, and their faces drew close, although the Diplomacy Elder kept his eyes down and to the side this time.

"It's over, Eye Demon," Elder Ma spat, his breathing haggard.

"Your puppets are being defeated, and the Young Master will soon lead the remaining Tai-shan warriors here. You've lost." The Ghost Elder pivoted, breaking the bind between their weapons, and swung once again for his stomach. Elder Ma shifted his body and moved to intercept, exactly as he had a dozen times prior, before realizing that there was no longer a dagger in the man's hand. Just a small, polished mirror, pulsing with reflected blue light.

The continued momentum of Elder Ma's attempted block eventually knocked the Eye Demon's hand away and smashed the mirror – but far too late. The Diplomacy Elder gasped as he felt the evil Bi-su, now in the Ghost Elder's other hand, enter his abdomen. Caustic fire immediately began to sear its way through his veins as the poison began to spread. The open edges of the laceration quickly turned a necrotic black. The Eye Demon sneered.

"By the time they get here, I'll be gone. And when I return, you won't be there to protect them. Good-bye forever, Master Ma Cheol-mi." In a final act of defiance, Elder Ma clamped his chiseled hands down on top of the Ghost Elder's wrist, locking the poisoned blade into his stomach with the weight of all Mt. Tai. To make himself unmovable, he sank into the Jeong-am-gi.

"Oh, no you don't," the Diplomacy Elder growled.

"You're staying right here with me."

"So that's the plan, senior brother," Chae-ha finished explaining, as Mu-cheon prepared to lead the final charge.

"Remember, you stay over there, next to that big rock. Make sure to keep the pile of corpses between the two of you, and no matter what he says – don't get any closer."

"Unless I have to," the young man replied, nodding. They had gathered almost two dozen men – all that remained of the seventy escort warriors they had begun the journey with. All were exhausted, and most were wounded. He placed a hand on one maimed guard's shoulder – the very first person he'd saved.

"Are you ready, Jin-woong?" The escort warrior nodded, and Mu-cheon squared his shoulders.

"Then let's move out." Chae-ha separated herself from the group and went to slip into her hiding spot, alone. Remember: he can't sense me. He can't sense me, she told herself, over and over – watching carefully to make sure the Eye Demon wasn't looking, while willing it to please be true. As Elder Ma's grip tightened, the bones in Sa Jeong-gwi's wrist began to break. The pain was searing and immediate. He struggled to break free, tugging and twisting in growing panic, but the will of the dying elder was absolute.

When the escort warriors began to loosely surround him, the Ghost Elder decided to change strategies. With his free hand, he viciously seized Elder Ma by the scalp, interlacing his fingers with the man's flowing locks for additional grip. The assassin yanked the elder's head back, exposing his jaw. Using his opponent's own iron grip as a fulcrum, the Eye Demon launched himself into the air. He drove his right knee upwards like a piston, aiming for the point of the chin. Crack.

The sound of teeth slamming together echoed through the clearing. The force of the blow snapped Elder Ma's head back, rattling his brain inside his skull. The Diplomacy Elder began to flicker in and out of consciousness. And the iron grip that was holding the Eye Demon's wrist in place momentarily slackened. Sa Jeong-gwi ripped his arm free and kicked off the dying elder's chest, flipping himself backwards to safety. Elder Ma stumbled, his eyes unfocused and dazed.

He tried to stand, to chase, to fight – but his body was ruined, and his equilibrium was shattered. He collapsed forward, vomiting a mixture of blood and bile onto the dirt as the caustic poison began to overwhelm his system. The Ghost Elder heard a deep, heroic voice call out from behind him.

"For a man called the 'Eye Demon,' you seem to have a pretty glaring blind spot." The assassin sneered beneath his veil as he turned around. There in front of him, at the far end of a slowly closing oval of guards, was the man he'd come to kill. The Ghost Elder gestured expansively as he walked towards Mu-cheon, stepping casually over a pile of corpses.

"That's the thing about impulsive Young Masters – especially those with a good first showing. They think they're invincible." He grinned wickedly.

"It's what always gets them killed." He took another step. As he did, a single guard suddenly broke ranks, screaming in a voice that sounded more terrified than angry. The man swung his sword wildly as he charged, tears streaming down a face caked in dirt and blood. His eyes were clenched shut, presumably to try and avoid being possessed. The assassin easily disarmed the man and clamped a hand over his throat. He lifted him off the ground with one arm, just as he had so many others.

"If my techniques could be defeated by simply closing your eyes, I never would have made it this far. Did you know that when people begin to suffocate, the combination of primal terror and desperation for air almost always makes them open their eyes?" Sa Jeong-gwi squeezed. The guard gasped, his body thrashing. As predicted, Jin-woong's eyes opened. But there was no fear in them. There was nothing in them. The sockets were empty, weeping red tears where a puppet's clawed fingers had dug them out.

The Eye Demon found himself staring directly into the void. He froze for a moment, his rhythm broken by the unexpected horror.

"Now!" Mu-cheon screamed. All the remaining guards rushed him simultaneously. The assassin dropped the man he'd been holding and tried to pivot. He felt a small, cold sting in his ankle – insignificant compared to the heat of the battle. The Eye Demon planted his foot to launch himself away. But his ankle refused to bend. Deep inside the joint, bone ground to a sudden halt as it encountered a hidden steel wedge. Instead of leaping gracefully, the man stumbled and tripped." Gwan-jeol-jeom," Chae-ha whispered.

"Joint lock: Trochlea Tali." The Ghost Elder caught himself and tried to restore his balance. As he scrambled to look back, he saw her. A small figure in scholar's robes, who until recently had been lying face-down amongst the corpses, was now scampering away like a frightened mouse. The guards piled on. He killed one, two – but their bodies just became shackles, locking him in place. One man slammed into his legs. Another grabbed his left arm. Two more attached to his right.

The Ghost Elder rapidly found himself immobilized by the force of pure body weight. A shadow fell over the assassin as he struggled to remain upright. The Eye Demon looked up, and for the first time in his life, learned what it meant to feel terror. Elder Ma stood there like a vengeful mountain spirit, swaying slightly. His chiseled face was deathly pale, its ashen pallor the same gray tone as a granite boulder.

The Diplomacy Elder slammed his foot into the ground with a force that sent rubble flying – and raised his Cham-ma-do one last time." Dan-hae-gyeok," he said, spitting out bits of blood.

"Sea-Splitting Slash." The world collapsed into black and white. A thin, dark line passed through Sa Jeong-gwi's neck. He felt no pain – only a sudden, disorienting shift in perspective as the horizon tilted, and sensation faded into nothingness. The same moment the Eye Demon died, Elder Ma collapsed to his knees. Mu-cheon rushed over, unsure how to help him but not knowing what else to do.

The young man grabbed the Diplomacy Elder's hands, which were already beginning to grow cold, and noticed the older man's lips were moving. He leaned in closer to listen.

"Here, nature has gathered all that is divine," the Diplomacy Elder whispered, struggling for every word.

"To sever Yin from Yang…"

"…and split the dusk from dawn," Mu-cheon said, finishing the verse for him after a moment's silence. The Inner Disciple shuddered before reaching out to close the dead man's eyes. After another long pause, the Young Master shook his head, breathed deeply, and forced himself to stand. It wasn't the time for tears. It was time to take command.