Chương 43: Blood on the Road

An assortment of bright lights winked in and out of her vision as Chae-ha struggled to regain awareness of her surroundings. The impact with the ground had knocked the wind out of her, just before the back of her head had slammed into the gravel road, leaving her unconscious. Now, she was awakening to a splitting headache, a loud ringing in her ears, and a searing pain radiating out from her left side. The young girl probed at the wound with a shaking hand, which came back sticky and wet with blood.

What had she been doing? How had she ended up this way? Like a door being opened into a busy marketplace, the chaos around her suddenly came into focus. So much was going on that it was hard to process it as anything but disconnected fragments at first: a sword, a flash of red, a spear, a part of the road. The deafening din of the battlefield slowly drowned out the ringing in her ears, and with the return of sound came a flood of memories.

"Senior brother…" Chae-ha moaned in pain as she struggled to pull herself back to her feet. Still clutching her bleeding side, she looked up, once again seeing Mu-cheon's back only a few paces in front of her. But the longer she looked, the less confident she became that it was really him. The man in front of her was not the same young man she thought she knew. Gone was the gentle giant, with his forced heroics and endearing, easily embarrassed attitude.

The thing that stood there, wearing her friend's skin, was a feral animal. It howled meaninglessly at the sky as it used its iron fang to savagely tear through a purple-clad soldier, shaking a mane of hair gone loose and wild. Even the friendly Tai-shan soldiers were giving the beast a wide berth. Chae-ha's eyes fell to the ground, where one of their own was mixed in amongst the purple corpses, and the young Inspector immediately understood why.

Chae-ha brought the hand that was pressing against the wound in her side up to her mouth, cupping it alongside its mate to call out once more. She tried to ignore the warm flow of blood that resumed seeping from the gash and running down her thigh.

"Senior brother!" Her voice was frail, with nowhere near enough power left to carry over the ambient noise. But even if it had, she realized he was too far gone for her voice to have reached him. The Young Master continued his rampage, stepping forwards and swinging with wild abandon. In desperation, she staggered after him.

"Senior… brother…" She kept calling out to him, but her voice grew weaker with each attempt. She tried to reach out and touch him, but he was still too far away, and his whirling Dae-jik-do threatened to take her arm off if she approached. There had to be a way to wake him up. Chae-ha started in sudden fear and surprise when a hand landed on her shoulder. She tried to turn her body, but the damaged abdominal muscles in her side resisted, causing the pain to flare up again severely.

She gasped, but still managed to turn her head enough to recognize a familiar face.

"Lieutenant Shin!"

"Chae-ha, what are you doing out here?" he asked in disbelief.

"Hurry and evacuate!" Her mind began racing. Shin was haggard, exhausted, and breathing heavily, but his presence meant there was still a narrow path out of this. She put her hand on top of his and did her best to look him straight in his bloodshot eyes. She could barely speak, but she tried anyways.

"Protect the Young Master," she rasped, every word a struggle.

"Believe…in Elder Eom. Strike the heart…of the snake."

"What is that supposed to mea–" Shrugging off his hand, Chae-ha turned all of her remaining focus back to her berserk friend. She took a deep breath, struggling through the pain it caused, and engaged her Phantom Steps for what could only be the final time that day. With a final surge of adrenaline, she stepped alongside him, moving with every ounce of strength she had left. As soon as the young girl entered Mu-cheon's field of view, she immediately became a target.

Pivoting and ducking, she allowed his blade to go whistling over her head, before spinning back away from him with a retreating step. The motion sent a sharp spike of agony through her injured side. As the young man tried to follow her, she sent one of her side panels rippling out with a precise flick of her wrist, just as she had done a hundred times in practice with him." I-ju-do," Chae-ha barely managed, through the blinding pain.

"Silk-Whip Sweep!" The weighted hem of her silk panel wrapped lightly around his heel. Right before his foot touched the ground, at the exact moment he was trying to transfer his weight, she gave it a tug. His leg moved easily to the side, leaving the young man with nothing to stand on, and causing him to topple face first onto the road. Lieutenant Shin watched him fall, as her earlier words echoed in his ears.

"Protect the Young Master." Suddenly, it was very clear what he needed to do. Shin stepped into the space in front of the fallen giant, cutting off any access the Meng-shan might have had – and started shouting for others to do the same. Chae-ha felt dizzy; the exertion had aggravated her wound and accelerated the blood loss. Her vision darkening, she sank to her knees, barely conscious, right as Mu-cheon managed to roll himself over.

The last thing the young girl saw before she collapsed onto his chest were his eyes, confused and bewildered, but thankfully clear. The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The world faded to black once more. The reality Mu-cheon was abruptly thrust back into made absolutely no sense. He found himself lying on the ground, surrounded by a group of screaming Tai-shan soldiers, with Chae-ha suddenly collapsing on his chest.

He had absolutely no recollection of how any of this had happened, but he knew immediately that the situation was dire.

"Little sister?!" he called out in alarm. He pushed himself up, carefully cradling her limp body in his arms. His fingers brushed against the dark patch on her side, from which blood was still actively flowing. It was clear she needed medical attention, and quickly. He lifted her body effortlessly, as if she was made of straw, and looked around at the swirling melee in desperation. Lieutenant Shin looked back over his shoulder, relieved to see that the Young Master had indeed come to his senses.

"The last thing she said was, 'Believe in Elder Eom – and strike the heart of the snake.'" The officer pointed down the field, towards the Meng-shan Lesser Elder.

"I think she meant him." Mu-cheon's eyes followed the man's finger, understanding slowly dawning inside of him. He looked behind himself, where virtually the entire Tai-shan column, except for those currently engaged in the melee, had already fled. And then he looked down at the broken body of the young girl in his arms.

"Was this…my fault?" he whispered to her, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

"Because I got carried away, you had to come and save me again?" The last thing the young man remembered was reveling in battle, drunk on the feeling of success. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, it was obvious how stupid that self-indulgence had been. He should have stayed focused on keeping everyone organized. He should have led the retreat. But… he couldn't have been distracted for more than half a ke! Was that really enough time for absolutely everything to have gone wrong? Apparently, it was.

Mu-cheon looked down at his expensive Inner Disciple's silks, their exterior stained with blood and muck. He handed her body to one of the soldiers before savagely tearing a huge strip of fabric off of his sleeve. After tying the makeshift bandage around her midsection, he bent and picked his Dae-jik-do back up off the ground.

"Run. Take her and run, and don't stop until you're through the woods. Find a member of the medical team. If she lives, I swear on my father's name that you will be a wealthy man." As the swordsman carrying her limp form hurriedly stumbled away, Mu-cheon turned back to the fray and bellowed.

"WARRIORS OF THE TAI-SHAN! TO ME!" Shortly after Mu-cheon's call rang out, Tae-seok risked a glance to his side. What on earth was that boy doing? He should be fleeing right now, but instead he was leading a small wedge of soldiers up the far side of the road. Was it a counter-charge? Why? And why now?

"LESSER ELDER!" The Young Master roared.

"YOUR HEAD IS MINE!" Tae-seok shook his head; the lad must have gone insane. There was no other explanation. The Meng-shan front rank would just consolidate and angle towards the side of the road to meet his charge. The young man had no hope of getting through. If there was to be any hope of saving him, Tae-seok would need to end this soon. In front of him, the Meng-shan High Elder roared, steam emanating from his cinnabar-colored skin.

The man surged forwards in yet another manic rush, swinging his Wol-do in a horizontal chop meant to separate Tae-seok's head from his shoulders. The retired general stepped directly into the blow, raising the edge of his Cham-ma-do to intercept the oncoming blade. A shower of orange sparks rained down as the impact from their colliding weapons spread outwards, blowing the steam away in a sphere all around them. CLANNGGG. The Meng-shan warrior bared his blood-stained teeth and pushed harder.

When it came to raw physicality, the High Elder was confident he would emerge on top. The man leaned forwards, his arms visibly shaking from the strain as he worked to force the glaive even a little bit farther along, ideally into his opponent's neck.

"You're too old for a test of strength," the High Elder hissed, a jet of scalding steam escaping his mouth. Large red and white blisters had formed across the burned portion of Tae-seok's face, as well as on the surface of his closed eyelid. The pain from the burns was escalating with time, but the veteran still looked calm and unshaken.

"This isn't a test of strength. Never was." With that, Tae-seok invoked the fifth mnemonic of the Chuk-ap-gyeol. Rather than a single large emission, he began releasing pressure from his hands and arms in short, staccato bursts. The edge of his Cham-ma-do began repeatedly biting into the steel of the glaive, slamming into the same point on the weapon over and over with escalating force." Ji-swae-chu," Tae-seok roared.

"Earth-Shattering Hammer!" The air around their crossed blades blurred. A discordant, high-pitched shriek tore through the air – the sound of solid steel screaming under impossible duress. The High Elder's manic grin vanished. The force from the repeated blows traveled down the glaive's shaft and into his arms, leaving his hands numb and threatening to fracture bones. The man tried to pull back when he realized what was happening, but it was too late. His intricately forged Wol-do could no longer take the pressure.

The high-pitched noise ended with an ear-splitting crack. The hardened steel blade exploded into pieces, and the momentum of the unstoppable hammer reduced the haft to a pile of splinters. The High Elder stumbled backwards, unbalanced by the sudden loss of his counterweight and unable to use his hands to effectively stabilize himself. Tae-seok wasn't about to waste the opportunity. He lowered his Cham-ma-do, sank into a deep stance, and breathed in deeply. The world collapsed into black and white.

"Dan-hae-gyeok," the retired general growled.

"Sea-Splitting Slash." Time seemed to stop as Tae-seok swung his weapon. A single, infinitely thin black line crossed his opponent's chest, marking the path his blade had traveled. When the strike had finished, color abruptly snapped back into the world, air rushing in to fill the void in reality left by the strike.

The signature thunderclap of the Tai-shan sect's art boomed across the battlefield, causing every head to turn and watch as the Meng-shan High Elder's torso slid apart, falling onto the road with a sickening thump. But while the soldiers were all staring in horror at their fallen elder, Tae-seok found his one good eye fixated on the enemy strategist. Exactly as he'd feared, the enemy vanguard had consolidated into a neat line, angled perfectly to protect their master.

Mu-cheon's wedge, on the far side of the road, was struggling against them uselessly. But the retired general had been wrong when he'd evaluated the situation as hopeless.

"I don't know how, but the girl must have done this," Tae-seok whispered to himself. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. His battle with the Meng-shan High Elder had created a large, empty space all around the area where the two of them had fought. The enemy vanguard had angled away from it and towards the edge of the road to stop Mu-cheon's charge. And now, right in front of him, was an impossible gift. An unobstructed, straight-line path to the enemy strategist.