Wudang Sacred Scriptures

—Shhhk! Slash!
“Aaagh!”
While Ju Yeoryeong hesitated for just a moment, Danmok Cheong cut down another Qingya Syndicate fighter and stepped back.
Now, excluding their leader, only eight Qingya fighters remained standing with their weapons.
Danmok Cheong steadied his breath and addressed the Qingya Syndicate leader.
“I have held back my hand and merely injured your men. Recognize the difference in skill and withdraw now.”
Even among the righteous path, it was customary not to kill indiscriminately—even moreso against those of the unorthodox path. In the martial world, one should avoid forming vendettas if at all possible. Especially in minor disputes like this, it was better to refrain from killing.
Thus, Danmok Cheong’s words and demeanor could be seen as those befitting a righteous path martial artist.
“Very well.”
Qingya Syndicate Leader Wang Ogeol nodded obediently—perhaps because he realized his opponent was far stronger than expected and he didn’t wish to suffer further losses.
“But as long as there is green on the mountain, we need not worry for firewood. May I at least ask your name?”
It wasn’t quite a threat of future revenge. Rather, it was said to preserve face as a leader.
“We had no personal quarrel. I see no reason to share my name.”
It was a dismissive statement, suggesting that they weren’t even worth giving his name to.
Grit.
Wang Ogeol ground his teeth inwardly and spoke.
“If you won’t reveal your name, I can’t force it from you. However, if I withdraw now, my sect loses all face. Thus, I propose a single bout between us.”
Danmok Cheong, wishing to end this pointless fight quickly, nodded without hesitation.
“If you insist, I’ll gladly oblige.”
From a distance, Ju Yeoryeong watched with suspicion. She had the feeling Wang Ogeol might try something underhanded and wanted to intervene. But the investigator’s orders were absolute, and there was a chance she was simply overthinking it, so she held her tongue.
“Then let’s have at it.”
Wang Ogeol charged forward, swinging his heavy saber wide.
—Boom!
As expected of a sect leader, his martial skill wasn’t shallow, and the energy contained in his saber strikes was fierce and overwhelming.
Danmok Cheong didn’t take him lightly. He infused his sword with internal energy and stepped forward to meet the blow.
—Shhhh!
Danmok Cheong responded with Falling Star Twelve Sword, the secret sword art of his house, directly clashing against the heavy force of the saber.
“Heeyaah!”
Wang Ogeol let out a forceful shout and gave his saber a twist. It cast four overlapping shadows that swept toward Danmok Cheong.
This was Phantom Shadow Four-Cut Saber, Wang Ogeol’s ultimate technique, refined over a lifetime.
He feigned a brute-force style, only to suddenly shift into lightning-speed swordplay—a deceptive move that had felled many foes.
But this time, he was up against the young lord of the Danmok Family, a prestigious house of the righteous path. Danmok Cheong’s sword style combined explosive force and speed—he would not be fooled by a mere trick.
Flash!
Danmok Cheong’s sword burst like a meteor shower, cutting through the air in every direction.
Falling Star Eight Flashes! (Nakseong Palhwang)
—Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
With a flurry of metallic clashes, the shadows of the saber vanished as if washed away.
Wang Ogeol recoiled in shock, throwing himself backward.
—Swoosh!
Danmok Cheong’s sword passed within a hair’s breadth of his nose.
Slash!
His nasal bridge and cheek were cut open by sword energy, blood spraying into the air.
Panicking, Wang Ogeol wildly flailed his saber using the chaotic Eight-Wind Rain Form, retreating in a frenzy.
Danmok Cheong wasn’t about to miss such a perfect opportunity.
From the moment he agreed to a duel, he had already resolved to sever one of Wang Ogeol’s arms—to crush the Qingya fighters’ morale completely.
Taah!
Danmok Cheong stepped in with a sudden advance and slashed his sword like a thunderbolt.
In doing so, he pushed deep into the midst of the Qingya Syndicate fighters.
Ah! That’s dangerous!
Ju Yeoryeong had been watching closely in case something happened—and thus realized what Danmok Cheong, due to the conical hat obstructing his vision, had failed to see: one of the Qingya fighters had silently circled around to his rear.
“Watch your back!”
Unable to remain silent, Ju Yeoryeong shouted out—but she was slightly too late.
Shlick!
The Qingya fighter’s blade grazed Danmok Cheong’s back.
Thanks to Ju Yeoryeong’s warning, he twisted his body just in time and avoided a fatal wound.
Furious, Danmok Cheong turned and unleashed the Falling Star Falling Blossom Sword at the one who had struck him.
Slash!
The man’s head flew off, blood gushing like a fountain into the sky.
All movement came to a halt, stunned by the gruesome death.
Qingya Syndicate Leader Wang Ogeol let out a chuckle and said,
“With that one strike, my sect’s honor is preserved. I’ll be taking my leave now.”
Without another word, Wang Ogeol turned and fled the inn’s dining hall.
With their leader having salvaged his pride and run off, the Qingya fighters scrambled to follow him in a panicked retreat.
Blood spread in a dark red stain across Danmok Cheong’s back.
****
Merchant Lord Sang Gwan Jin-ho was in his office, organizing documents.
He needed to appear completely uninvolved in the disturbances at Sangjeon Village, even to his own household and subordinates—so he kept to his usual routine.
Outwardly, that is. Inwardly, his attention was wholly focused on the events outside.
The moment he received news that the Grand Scholar had been killed by the black-path mob of the Qingya Syndicate, he planned to mobilize all of Cheongwu Merchant House’s martial forces, rush to Sangjeon Village, and seize control of Deokseon Hall.
Afterward, using the Sang Gwan Family name, he would “purge” the Qingya Syndicate to avenge the Grand Scholar and naturally absorb all of Sangjeon Village’s enterprises.
If the Sang Gwan Family claimed it was upholding justice in the martial world, even the Cave Daoist from Mount Wudang wouldn’t be able to interfere.
It was while Sang Gwan Jin-ho was entertaining grand dreams of re-establishing a branch line of his own—
“Lord.”
The head steward’s urgent voice rang out, and Sang Gwan Jin-ho set down his papers as if he’d been waiting.
Don’t act hasty—stay in character.
He paused deliberately before asking,
“What is it, Chief Steward?”
“Someone has arrived from Sangjeon Village.”
A satisfied smile crept across Sang Gwan Jin-ho’s lips.
Careful, don’t let it show.
“What business would someone from Sangjeon Village have with us?”
“Well, sir... it’s someone who claims to be a Daoist from Mount Wudang... He insists he must see you at once...”
The smile disappeared from Sang Gwan Jin-ho’s face.
“That Cave Daoist bastard... Why?”
“Well... he refuses to say more, only that he must meet you immediately. And since he claims to be a disciple of the Wudang Sect, we couldn’t exactly turn him away, so I came to report...”
Sang Gwan Jin-ho’s face twisted—but he also felt a faint sense of relief.
‘The Grand Scholar must be dead—that much is certain. That damn Cave Daoist rushing here like this proves it. Still, he must have sensed something...’
“Was the Cave Daoist alone?”
“Yes, sir.”
Sang Gwan Jin-ho’s twisted expression relaxed.
The fact that the Cave Daoist had come alone meant the human hunting dogs had completed their mission and disappeared.
‘So he’s come barging in on a hunch? And what of it? He has no proof.’
A self-satisfied smirk crept back onto Sang Gwan Jin-ho’s lips.
‘If I refuse to see him now, it’ll only raise suspicion.’
More than anything, he wanted to see the look of bitter defeat on the man’s face.
He would humiliate him completely.
“Very well. Escort the Cave Daoist to the main hall.”
“Understood.”
Determined to return every slight he’d suffered during the Grand Scholar’s birthday banquet, Sang Gwan Jin-ho rose to his feet.
Moving at a leisurely pace, he stepped out through the Winter East Gate of the inner estate and saw the Cave Daoist standing in the main courtyard.
“Daoist Kwak, why are you standing out here instead of entering the hall?”
Kwak Yeon replied with an expressionless face.
“This is the perfect spot.”
“...?”
Sang Gwan Jin-ho frowned.
“What do you mean, the perfect spot?”
“To expose the Lord’s unspeakable crimes, what could be more fitting than this place under broad daylight?”
Sang Gwan Jin-ho thought the Cave Daoist was simply flapping his tongue in an attempt to corner him and chuckled dismissively.
“Daoist Kwak, I don’t know why you’re so upset, but barging in like this is a serious breach of decorum. Even for the sake of the cordial relationship between the Wudang Sect and our family, I—kuh-hek!”
It was like a pair of iron tongs clamped down on his throat—he couldn’t breathe.
Only when the Cave Daoist’s face loomed right before his eyes did he realize it wasn’t iron tongs that had seized him.
“Wh-What is the meaning of this?!”
“You dare lay hands on the Lord!”
The guards stationed at the manor gate saw the shocking scene and rushed over in a flurry.
“Let go of him at once!”
—Preeeeet!
One of the guards blew a warning whistle.
—PREEEEEEET!
—Crash!
The once-quiet estate exploded into chaos like a stirred hornet’s nest. Warriors poured out from all directions, flooding the main courtyard.
Lifting Sang Gwan Jin-ho high into the air, Kwak Yeon addressed the gathered warriors.
“If you value your Lord’s life, I suggest you stay right where you are.”
Seeing their Lord’s face turning pale and ashen, the warriors halted in their tracks.
Kwak Yeon then hurled Sang Gwan Jin-ho to the dirt.
—Boom!
“Gghaaaack!”
Sang Gwan Jin-ho writhed on the ground, gasping like a pig having its throat slit. Having nearly suffocated, he was desperate for air.
When they saw the Lord released, the warriors all drew their weapons at once.
Kwak Yeon immediately raised a foot and stomped the ground.
—BOOM!
The shockwave # Nоvеlight # from a grandmaster’s full-powered Internal Energy Step rattled the earth like an earthquake. A burst of dust rose, and a circular wave of ki rippled outward.
—BWAHHHHM!
The Energy-Rending ki shockwave tore through the formation, roaring as it swept over the warriors.
“Ugh!”
“Gkk!”
The warriors felt a numbing jolt shoot up their knees. A few of the weaker ones collapsed outright as their legs gave out.
“All of you, lay down your weapons. As a reclusive Daoist of Samnyeonggung on Mount Wudang, I have no intention of killing your Lord.”
Terrified by the supreme mastery he’d just displayed, the warriors hesitated, then lowered their weapons one by one.
They were outclassed. The man had clearly stated he was a Wudang disciple and had promised not to harm their Lord—there was no other choice.
Having subdued the warriors in a single surge of momentum, Kwak Yeon stepped toward Sang Gwan Jin-ho, who lay sprawled on the ground.
The man had only just begun to recover his breath, half-lifting his upper body.
—CRACK!
Kwak Yeon drove his foot into Sang Gwan Jin-ho’s solar plexus.
“GUHHEUK!”
The breath he’d finally regained was knocked right back out, and his eyes rolled back.
Only when Sang Gwan Jin-ho’s entire body began convulsing did Kwak Yeon lift his foot.
“Gahhhk!”
Sang Gwan Jin-ho let out another hog-slaughter squeal and lifted his head with difficulty.
“Kuhh... What is this? How could a disciple of Wudang act like some demonic cultist...?!”
Kwak Yeon nodded.
“At this moment, I am a demonic cultist.”
“...?”
“I decided long ago—against those who cross the line, I will be a demonic cultist, or worse.”
Sang Gwan Jin-ho’s eyes shot wide open.
“What... What line have I supposedly crossed to deserve this?!”
Kwak Yeon answered calmly.
“That’s not something you should ask me. You’ll be answering that question yourself.”