Chapter 521

Chapter 521
## Chapter 521. The Monster That Eats Despair (6)

—

“*Heok…… heok…… heok……*”

The martial artist sprinted with every ounce of his remaining strength.

His inner reservoir of energy was completely drained, and his physical body was utterly spent. Finding even that insufficient, he was now desperately tapping into and burning away his foundational vitality, his innate origin-qi (*seon-cheon-ji-gi*). He was fully aware that once this primordial force was consumed, not even a miraculous intervention by the divine physician Hua Tuo could save his life. Yet, the martial artist paid no heed to the consequence.

“The exit…… the exit…… the exit!!!”

If he could just cross the threshold of this place. If he could only draw his last breath outside of this hellscape, his spirit could journey to the Sahā world and secure a chance at rebirth through reincarnation.

“Get out of my way! Out of my way!!!”

He reached out blindly and violently yanked the collar of a man fleeing just ahead of him.

“*Kek*……!”

The man gasped as his throat was suddenly constricted. Recognizing the face of the person who had seized him, he choked out a frantic explanation.

“*Kek-kek*— **Hyung-nim**!! It’s me! Me! **Geum-jang-ho**!”

He let out a breath of relief, believing he was safe upon realizing who held him. But the man who gripped him showed no regard for their bond and ruthlessly swung the blade held in his opposite hand.

“*Kuaaaa-ak*!”

The sharp edge sliced deep into his flesh, prompting a horrified scream and a barrage of furious curses.

“Hey, you absolute bastard! It’s me! Your sworn brother, **Geum-jang-ho**!!!”

Yet, the frenzied attacker was entirely blind to everything but his escape. Without a moment’s hesitation, he aimed a vicious strike meant to sever **Geum-jang-ho**’s leg.

“This madman……!!”

Pushed to the brink by the merciless assault of the one he once called brother, **Geum-jang-ho**’s vision blurred with rage. He lashed out with his own blade, aiming to take off the martial artist’s right arm in a single blow. He expected his opponent to at least parry or retreat to protect the limb. However,

*Slash—*

As the weapon, cloaked in razor-sharp sword-qi, tore through the air, the martial artist merely shifted his stance slightly. His right arm was severed entirely, tumbling away helplessly. The desperate man neither dodged nor defended. Instead,

*Pook—*

He used his remaining leverage to plunge his weapon directly into one of **Geum-jang-ho**’s feet.

“This crazy lunatic……”

**Geum-jang-ho** collapsed backward onto the stone floor. He stared up at the departing figure with a vacant, uncomprehending expression.

“Just…… for what reason……”

“I, I refuse to perish in this godforsaken pit.”

“Ev……en so……”

“I will reach the outside before I die……”

As the martial artist stumbled away into the dark, **Geum-jang-ho** spat out a mouthful of blood and roared in agony.

“You…… piece of trash! I will survive this and hunt you down myself! *Kuhl-luck*— Just wait and see!”

But the man who had been his sworn brother continued his frantic flight, not even pausing to stem the torrent of blood pouring from his missing limb.

“Madman……”

No matter how he racked his brain, it defied all reason. The instinct to survive was hardwired into every living soul, but what purpose did it serve for a swordsman to preserve his life at the cost of the very arm he used to wield his blade? Moreover, the parting words he uttered were deeply unsettling.

*‘To claim he intends to go outside just to die.’*

**Geum-jang-ho** inspected his mangled foot. Fortunately, the blade had missed the bone. With proper emergency binding, he would still be able to limp forward, even if running was out of the question.

“No matter how terrifying the Jiangshis are, to lose one’s mind to this extent……”

The years he had spent following that man, dutifully addressing him as ‘**Hyung-nim, Hyung-nim**,’ now felt like a cruel joke. After stanching the bleeding and hastily wrapping the wound with strips torn from his robes, **Geum-jang-ho** forced himself up to follow the path his betrayer had taken. Right then,

*Flinch—*

An icy, unnatural sensation rippled across his body. It penetrated his skin and seeped deep into the marrow of his bones, traveling from his heels to the crown of his head. It was an ominous pressure he had never encountered before—something entirely distinct from ordinary malice or battle aura. Despite its unfamiliarity, one truth became instantly clear.

“Wha—what is this……”

This was the source of the madness. This was what had driven the martial artist he once revered as an elder brother to abandon his senses and flee like a beast.

“*Heo*……”

In an flash of clarity, those final words made perfect sense. If that encroaching blackness swallowed him here, it felt as though his very soul would be torn to shreds.

“N—No! I, I will make it outside before I die.”

**Geum-jang-ho** spun around frantically and pushed forward. His ruined foot dragged heavily, spilling fresh blood with every stride, but he ignored the agony and forced his inner energy to circulate at maximum capacity. At that precise moment,

A dark, tendril-like shadow slithered out from the absolute blackness, lengthening across the ground until it tightly ensnared **Geum-jang-ho**’s torso.

“*Uwaaaa-ak*!”

And then,

*Swaaaa-ek—*

In the blink of an eye, the phantom limb yanked **Geum-jang-ho** backward, dragging him helplessly into the abyssal gloom.

**Il-gak** clung tightly to **Zen Master Cheon-sim**, his face awash with tears. He was far from the only one weeping. **Baek-jong** and the eighteen Arhats silently brushed away their tears as they observed **Zen Master Cheon-sim**, who had barely managed to cling to life. Yet, the old monk himself could only stare in horror, his brow furrowed in deep agony at the gruesome carnage filling the cavern.

“Ah…… ahhh!”

**Zen Master Cheon-sim** trembled violently. Even without an explanation, he knew precisely whose hand had wrought this terrible devastation. Before he could even register the relief of his own survival, the master collapsed under the immense weight of his despair.

“*Amitabha…… Amitabha……*”

This was **Zen Master Cheon-sim**, a man who had dedicated his entire existence to the service of Shaolin, the stability of the Jianghu, and the protection of the innocent. His lifelong devotion had earned him the reverent title of ‘**Cheon-sim**’—the Heavenly Heart. For someone who had walked such a righteous path for decades, the reality before him—the sticky, crimson lifeblood staining his own palms—was too monstrous to comprehend.

“Why…… why did such noble souls have to perish because of my failings……”

**Zen Master Cheon-sim** wept from the depths of his soul. **Baek-jong** and the eighteen Arhats lowered their gazes in shared sorrow. They had lacked the power to safely subdue **Zen Master Cheon-sim** on their own. Had their goal been execution, they could have ended it quickly, but who among them possessed the heart to strike down Shaolin’s greatest elder simply because he had succumbed to a inner heart demon?

“**Master**! You must not speak this way! Such words diminish the sacrifice of the fallen monks.”

“……”

Hearing **Il-gak**’s impassioned cry, **Zen Master Cheon-sim** squeezed his eyes shut. Some harsh realities could be processed by logic, but remained utterly intolerable to the heart.

“Furthermore, **Benefactor Jin-so-un**, who owes no allegiance to Shaolin…… risked his very life to bring you back. Do you mean to invalidate their sacrifices as well?”

“He risked…… his life?”

The very complication I had hoped to avoid had just been laid bare.

“Hey, **Il-gak**, hold your tou—”

“How could this be……!”

**Zen Master Cheon-sim** turned his wide, astonished eyes upon me.

“No, it isn’t quite what it sounds like, you see……”

“A generous benefactor from a modest Taoist sect, a man with no formal ties to our holy order, placed himself in mortal peril and executed a profound technique solely to preserve your life, Master!”

“Which is precisely why I am telling you, **Il-gak**, to shut your mouth for a second……”

“**Master**!! Will you truly cast a shadow over the selfless deed of **Benefactor Jin**?”

The utterly oblivious monk simply refused to stop flapping his lips. His excessive badgering was irritating enough, but the real danger lay in his repeated emphasis on the ‘profound technique’ I had employed. If anyone pressed for details regarding the specific nature of that technique, I could never reveal under pain of death that it was the forbidden **Heup-seong-dae-beop** (Heaven-Absorbing Grand Law).

*‘He didn’t perceive the true nature of it, did he?’*

Leaving aside the fact that his consciousness had returned far more rapidly than I anticipated, I had felt a powerful backlash at the final moment when the connection to the **Blue Dragon Ring** severed, which only heightened my paranoia. Moreover, even though the absorption lasted only a fraction of a second, the sheer volume of internal energy I had siphoned away was immense. **Zen Master Cheon-sim** would undoubtedly notice the significant depletion within his core. My anxiety spiked as the elderly master continued to study me intently.

Slowly, he raised his right hand in a formal single-palm Buddhist greeting.

“*Amitabha*. You have my deepest gratitude, **Benefactor Jin**…… You braved immense danger to salvage the life of an old, flawed monk……”

A collective look of profound admiration washed over the gathered Shaolin disciples. The single-palm salute was a gesture reserved strictly within their order to signal the highest level of spiritual reverence.

*‘Thank goodness, he remains completely unaware.’*

It seemed I could allow that loudmouthed **Il-gak** to draw breath a little longer. I lowered my head and returned the gesture with a standard martial fist-to-palm salute.

“As a fellow traveler of the Jianghu, I merely performed a duty that any righteous person would undertake. Though this may seem abrupt given the circumstances, I believe we must hasten our departure.”

I was eager to steer the conversation away from my techniques, and **Zen Master Cheon-sim** gave a slow nod, seemingly understanding the urgency.

“Could you grant me a brief moment to offer a final farewell to those who have achieved Nirvana here?”

What was this? Did he intend to merge his remaining followers with our group? We simply did not have the luxury of time to debate strategies or hold counsel.

“I intend to place my trust, and the trust of my disciples, in your leadership.”

“**Zen Master**……!”

“What are you saying?”

The warrior monks of the Shaolin Temple immediately stepped forward to object to such an arrangement, but—

“Do any of you possess the absolute certainty required to guide us through these depths, knowing I have so recently broken under the weight of a heart demon?”

“……”

The objection died instantly on their lips at **Zen Master Cheon-sim**’s blunt inquiry.

“May I ask for your acceptance?”

Every eye in the chamber shifted toward me. It was a scenario that felt entirely too familiar. I let out a low sigh, feigning a moment of deep internal conflict, before looking back up to meet his gaze.

“I have one condition.”

“Name it.”

“The chain of command must be absolute and unified.”

“I am a man bearing a heavy transgression, and my faith in my own judgment is fractured. I have no objections. My disciples will follow suit.”

**Zen Master Cheon-sim** glanced back at his monks. Though their expressions remained uneasy, they gave solemn nods of agreement one by one. And just like that, we had secured the allegiance of a master-level powerhouse.

*‘It is a bit of a shame that his internal reserves were diminished.’*

Still, it wasn’t a true loss. Because of that siphon, my own dantian had grown exceptionally dense and powerful.

With the addition of the Shaolin contingent, our expedition proceeded with far greater efficiency. We crossed paths with the dreaded **Soul-Returning Iron Jiangshis** on two separate occasions along the route, yet we emerged from both skirmishes without sustaining a single casualty. The synergy between our **Baek-ho** (White Tiger) sword formation, the elite forces of the Moyong Clan, and the Shaolin monks fell into place with remarkable swiftness. In truth, it was our own unit that felt somewhat unpolished by comparison.

*‘It ultimately comes down to experience…….’*

The majority of the Moyong Clan fighters were seasoned veterans in their thirties. The Shaolin monks were largely in their forties or rapidly approaching that mark. By contrast, the disciples composing the **Baek-ho** formation were barely past twenty—callow youths whose lack of years was an unavoidable disadvantage. Fortunately, **Il-gak** had chosen to remain with the **Yoseong-dang** group to reinforce our formation rather than joining his peers, and **Dang-seo-hee** was expertly bridging the gaps in our defenses.

As our journey deepened, **Dang-seo-hee**’s presence proved utterly invaluable. Alongside her formidable martial prowess, she commanded exceptional medical expertise and a masterful control over specialized poison arts. Within the perilous environment of the Sword Tomb, she was a beacon of security. While treating our wounded, she utilized unique toxic applications to deaden pain and accelerate stability, earning the profound gratitude and reliance of the entire group. Consequently, the initial coldness of the other factions had thoroughly dissolved into respect.

“**Hall Master Jin**, we have scouts reporting an approaching force up ahead.”

An advance scout from the Moyong Clan hurried back with the warning. We immediately halted our advance and assumed a defensive battle array. Up to this point, the vast majority of survivors encountered within the Sword Tomb were either entirely maddened or had devolved into predatory killers stripped of human empathy. Having been burned before by attempting diplomacy only to receive a blade in return, the group now defaulted to absolute vigilance.

Moments later, the distant glow of torches punctured the darkness as a sizable contingent drew near. They were mirror images of us—weapons drawn, moving with extreme caution. As more torches lined the passageway, it became clear that their numbers easily exceeded a hundred men.

*Gulp—*

An anxious tension settled over our ranks. Those afflicted by the hallucinogenic properties of the **Musim-hwan-gak-san** exhibited a distinct behavioral trait: they would attack with suicidal recklessness the moment they believed they held a numerical advantage. Disciplined martial artists typically evaluate the strength of an opponent before committing to a clash. Within these tunnels, however, there was an abundance of lunatics who would launch a preemptive strike simply because they had more bodies on their side. Fending off the unpredictable, chaotic assaults of those madmen was far more draining than encountering a lone **Soul-Returning Iron Jiangshi**.

When the approaching group closed the distance to five *jang*, I threw up my hand.

“Halt.”

The column ignored the command, continuing their march until they were a mere three *jang* away. I could feel the disciples of the **Yoseong-dang** focusing their inner energy, preparing for immediate combat. It was then that a voice rang out.

“Wait!”

The leader at the head of the foreign column raised his hand, signaling his men to stop as he took note of our stance. Then, he yelled a question that caught me entirely off guard.

“Have your people ingested the **Clear Mind Spirit-Preserving Pill**?”

*What?* Why on earth were they asking about that particular medicine in a place like this?

“Did you take it or not? Give us a straight answer!”

Their killing intent flared, making it obvious that their next move hinged entirely on our response regarding the pill.

“We have taken it.”

In fact, I had done far more than just consume it.

“When did you administer it?”

“Immediately upon crossing the threshold of the tomb.”

Seeing as I was the one who formulated it.

“……”

The leader’s gaze flickered with sudden uncertainty.

“From whom did you acquire such medicine?”

“We provided it ourselves.”

“!”

Whether something in my response struck a nerve, the warrior’s expression turned instantly hostile.

“Attack!”

“What kind of absolute nonsense……”

**Nam-hwa-seong** let out a fierce curse that perfectly mirrored my own exasperation. Just as the Moyong Clan and the Shaolin Temple moved to lock blades and initiate a bloodbath—

“W—Waaiiiiiiiittt!!!!”

The commander of the opposing force suddenly shrieked at the top of his lungs, desperately trying to pull back his men.

“They are affiliated with the Dang Clan!! Everyone stand down!!!”

“……?”

The warriors who had been on the verge of lunging at us let out a collective breath and lowered their weapons.

“Did your supply of the **Clear Mind Spirit-Preserving Pill** originate from the Dang Clan?”

“It did.”

“Then you should have led with that information.”

The commander scratched his head, looking thoroughly vexed. *Damn it*, you never bothered to ask! Oblivious to my annoyance, the man walked forward with an extended hand, offering a truce.

“I am **Lee-hwa-gyu** of the **Cheol-san-geom** (Iron Mountain Sword).”

The **Iron Mountain Sword** was a name that carried significant weight within the unorthodox factions of the **Huk-do**.

“I am **Jin-so-un**, the Hall Master of the Murim Alliance’s **Yoseong-dang**.”

“The **Black Flame Dragon**?”

“……It is the **Yoseong-dang**. Hall. Master. **Jin-so-un**.”

“Ah…… right, of course.”

**Lee-hwa-gyu** offered a sheepish chuckle. As the torches illuminated the surrounding space, the light reflecting off the cavern ceiling revealed the faces of his followers. It was an incredibly bizarre assortment; **Lee-hwa-gyu**’s ranks contained a chaotic mixture of orthodox **Baek-do** martial artists and unorthodox **Huk-do** figures side by side.

“I apologize for the sudden hostility. Lately, we have made it a policy to immediately neutralize anyone who hasn’t been inoculated with the **Clear Mind Spirit-Preserving Pill**.”

“How did you come to possess knowledge of the pill?”

“How could we not, given that my survival and the survival of my men are entirely owed to the intervention of the Dang Clan.”

The original plan had been to distribute the medicine from the main entrance, but it appeared a detachment had carried supplies directly into the interior.

“The effects of the **Musim-hwan-gak-san**…… it was a waking nightmare. It froze my blood to realize that the version of me in my thoughts wasn’t truly me at all. It makes you understand that once you are lost to that poison, you are replaced by something entirely monstrous.”

**Lee-hwa-gyu** shuddered, clearly still haunted by the lingering trauma of the experience.

“……Had I known the true horrors of this place, I never would have set foot inside.”

“I can understand that.”

**Lee-hwa-gyu**’s eyes drifted across our assembled forces, carefully calculating whether we represented an alliance strong enough to merit cooperation. His gaze suddenly froze as he recognized a figure in our rear.

“That venerable master…… is that not **Zen Master Cheon-sim**?”

“It is.”

“*Heo*…… fortune smiles upon you.”

I wasn’t entirely certain if ‘fortune’ was the correct word for our circumstances.

“Since fate has brought us together, what say you to joining forces?”

For a notorious swordsman of the unorthodox path, it was quite remarkable to see him so willingly suggest an alliance that included the righteous monks of Shaolin.

“In this hellhole, the old divides between the orthodox and unorthodox no longer carry weight. The only distinction that matters now is between those who retain their sanity via the pill and those who have turned into rabid dogs.”

“I have no objections to an alliance, but management of this combined force remains under my authority.”

“Under yours?”

“Correct.”

**Lee-hwa-gyu** looked between me and the silent **Zen Master Cheon-sim** several times, clearly perplexed by the hierarchy. Yet, given that this was a desperate refuge where traditional alignments had shattered, he chose not to voice any further skepticism.

“If we merge our groups, what is our objective?”

I gestured toward the path his column had just traveled.

“Surely you don’t intend to retrace our steps?”

**Lee-hwa-gyu** let out a grim sigh.

“What are you implying?”

The subterranean network consisted of three primary arterial pathways, each branching off into smaller chambers. To reach the true exit, we had no choice but to press forward along one of these main routes. However,

“The way forward is entirely cut off.”

“Are you saying the tunnel has collapsed?”

**Lee-hwa-gyu** shook his head slowly.

“No. The path is held by the enemy.”

“The enemy?”

To a man of the **Huk-do**, did that mean orthodox rivals, or merely the maddened survivors who lacked the medicine?

“No, nothing so simple. The forces holding the route ahead are……”

He cast a fearful glance back toward the deep shadows where the torchlight flickered out.

“They are aberrations.”

His eyes dilated with a terror far more profound than anything he had shown before.

“An army of Jiangshis and the puppeteers who command them have completely blockaded the advance.”