Chapter 372

“This is the place.”

“It’s a cliff, isn’t it? A pretty ordinary one.”

I stopped with the others before the steep cliff and looked around.

It rose over a hundred zhang,¹ a sheer wall of solid rock, but there was nothing particularly remarkable about it.

There’s supposed to be a formation here?

It didn’t take long to find the answer.

Following a sudden sense of déjà vu, I walked slowly forward and stopped before a yellowish-brown section of the cliff face.

“This is…”

Everything has a flow and a grain. Even something as invisible and intangible as qi is no exception.

And the senses I had gained upon reaching the Supreme Peak realm were more than sharp enough to detect the unnatural flow of qi.

“A formation?”

A voice answered my mutter.

“More precisely, an illusion formation.”

Mungyeong—or rather, the Slaughter Saint—gave me a dry look, then stepped forward and extended a hand.

An enormous amount of qi stirred. The solid rock face vanished like mist, revealing the mouth of a pitch-black cavern.

“Your eyes aren’t completely useless, at least.”

“Uh, what?”

“Don’t ask again.”

The Slaughter Saint tossed out those words and headed into the cavern without giving me a chance to respond.

Was that an insult or a compliment?

It left me feeling strangely annoyed.

Still, it would have been awkward to get angry. I sensed no hostility toward me in the Slaughter Saint’s words or actions. He was merely as dry and stiff with me as he was with everyone else.

That made it more embarrassing than infuriating.

“…”

Of course, the fact that he was the Slaughter Saint also had something to do with my willingness to let it slide.

If that was how the Slaughter Saint talked, what was I supposed to do? Even if it rubbed me the wrong way, I had to put up with it.

I should be grateful I was still standing after bringing up wet dreams.

I nearly turned the Slaughter Saint into the Rice Saint, so this is practically getting off easy.²

As I had that thought, I heard a low chuckle beside me. I turned to find the corners of Jeok Cheongang’s mouth twitching.

“Why are you laughing all of a sudden?”

“No reason. I was just thinking that the Slaughter Saint is remarkably incapable of being honest.”

“What?”

“Don’t ask again.”

“…”

What was this? Some new catchphrase?

Jeok Cheongang strode off. The two Sect Leaders and I followed him into the dark cavern.

Still…

I couldn’t believe a place like this had been hidden here.

It was even close enough to reach within half a day from Chengdu, the heart of Sichuan. That was half a day at an ordinary commoner’s pace. For anyone trained in martial arts, it would take far less time.

I looked around as we made our way through the seemingly endless cavern.

Even the entrance is huge. Several times larger than the Sichuan Tang Clan’s underground prison.

I had heard a brief explanation on the way here. The murderous criminals of Dark Heaven had stayed in this very cavern.

So this was where they had hidden while waiting for the right moment. That explained where so many of them had come from.

But how did they get in here to begin with?

More than three hundred enemies had attacked the Tang Clan under the Western Heaven Demon Lord’s command.

Add in the men sent to Qingcheng and Emei, and their numbers were far too great to ignore.

Was security in Sichuan Province really that terrible? No, even so, wouldn’t the Beggars’ Sect and the Lower District Sect have noticed them?

I walked on with that question in mind until the passage—wide enough for ten grown men to walk abreast—finally ended and opened into a vast chamber.

The words slipped out before I knew it.

“…Huh. Would you look at that.”

The chamber could have easily held over a thousand people. Dozens of night-shining pearls embedded in the ceiling cast a soft glow, while jars filled with dry rations and fasting pills stood in one corner alongside piles of weapons.

But none of that was what surprised me most.

What is that?

Strange patterns covered the entire cavern floor.

Carved in regular arrangements like intricate gears, they looked like the ruins of an ancient kingdom forgotten long ago.

“Is that perhaps the thing you mentioned earlier…?”

At my question, Cheongpung the Ancient Sword, Sect Leader of the Qingcheng Sect, nodded gravely.

“That is correct. That is the strange formation I spoke of.”

I had wondered if it could really be a formation, but apparently it was.

I had encountered all kinds of mechanisms and formations at the Star-Array Grand Banquet, but I had never seen one this large or this bizarre.

This goes beyond strange. It’s downright grotesque.

Maybe it was the patterns. There was something both mysterious and dangerous about them.

Jeok Cheongang seemed to share my thoughts.

“But what in the world are those bizarre patterns?”

“We have yet to determine that ourselves.”

Extinction Divine Nun added to Cheongpung the Ancient Sword’s answer.

“We cannot jump to conclusions. We copied part of the formation and showed it to several renowned scholars and distinguished figures, but none recognized it. We cannot entirely rule out the possibility that it is some unknown script from the Western Regions.”³

Before I knew it, a remark slipped from my lips.

“Uh, that isn’t writing.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

Every eye turned toward me. The Slaughter Saint, who had remained silent ever since we entered the cavern, abruptly spoke.

“Your basis?”

“My… basis?”

“If you make such a claim, you must have sound grounds for it. Stop asking questions and answer.”

Of course I had grounds. Conclusive grounds that neither a renowned scholar who had devoured tens of thousands of books nor an eminent martial artist who had spent a lifetime roaming the Murim could refute.

The Integrated Language Pack.

The Integrated Language Pack automatically translated every language through the power of the System.

It didn’t just let me communicate. I could read and write any language as well.

It was thanks to the Integrated Language Pack that I had been able to speak with the Skeleton Warlord in the modern world.

Yet despite the interpretation function being constantly active like a passive Skill, the patterns that made up the formation remained unchanged.

That was definitive proof they weren’t writing.

The problem was…

How am I supposed to explain that?

I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have kept my mouth shut.

But it was already too late. As the Slaughter Saint’s gaze grew more intense, I stammered,

“Bo… bo.”

“Boobs?”

The Rice Saint’s eyebrow twitched.

It was the first emotion he had shown. He had clearly remembered the wet-dream incident.

“Ah, no, not boobs.”

“Breasts, then?”

“…”

Please. Don’t say things like that with a face completely devoid of emotion.

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

As I frantically waved my hands, Jeok Cheongang suddenly cut in.

“Are you threatening my Disciple? How dare you threaten the Fire King’s heir and the Young Sect Leader of the Fire Gate Clan?”

“Threaten him? There is no need, but neither is it beyond me.”

“I intended to let this pass since I happened to owe you my life, but if this is how you mean to act, Mun, then this old man cannot stand idle.”

The atmosphere grew increasingly hostile. I squeezed my eyes shut and shouted,

“I-I took a guess!”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“I thought I might have seen something like it in a book before… and it just didn’t feel like writing, so I guessed.”

A heavy silence descended.

The Slaughter Saint let out a nearly inaudible sigh, then asked Jeok Cheongang,

“So that fellow is the heir of the Fire King and the Young Sect Leader of the Fire Gate Clan?”

Jeok Cheongang fell silent for a moment before answering.

“Now that I think about it, he never underwent the formal initiation ceremony.”

“…”

“So strictly speaking, he isn’t yet an official Disciple of our sect. Which means he should still be considered a member of the Jin Family of Taiyuan…”

Jeok Cheongang’s eyes met mine. He quietly looked away.

“I shall say no more.”

“…”

What did he mean, no more? He had already said everything there was to say.

Having witnessed the complete collapse of trust between Master and Disciple, Extinction Divine Nun and Cheongpung the Ancient Sword awkwardly changed the subject.

“Ahem. In any case, it seems we must continue investigating this strange formation.”

“F-Fellow Daoist Jin and Senior Jeok’s insights have been most helpful.”

Heaven knew they hadn’t helped at all. Earth knew it. Everyone here knew it.

Even a stray dog in an alley wouldn’t believe that nonsense.

Having brought the situation to a close with such an obvious lie, Cheongpung the Ancient Sword turned to Extinction Divine Nun with a troubled expression.

“Still, it is truly difficult to believe. To bring so many people here with nothing more than a formation…”

“Indeed. If such a thing is possible, does that not mean they could appear anywhere under heaven?”

Wait. What did they just say?

I had been staring at the ground, frustrated by my inability to explain myself and still suffering from the aftermath of the boob incident. I abruptly raised my head.

“What is it, Benefactor Jin?”

“No, it’s just… I think this is the first I’ve heard either of you mention that part about the formation.”

“Hmm? You mean the Moving Formation?”

“…The Moving Formation?”

“That is correct. According to the Third Fiend, that strange formation is called a Moving Formation. We cannot know how much of his absurd story to believe, but he said Dark Heaven used it to travel hundreds of li.”⁴

A Moving Formation. They said it was a Moving Formation.

Even if a critic in angular horn-rimmed glasses had suddenly walked out and declared, “I give this formation four and a half stars,” I couldn’t have been more bewildered.

This sounds familiar.

A formation capable of transporting hundreds of people across hundreds of li.

The more I thought about it, the harder my heart pounded and the drier my lips became.

What if this so-called Moving Formation was that thing I was thinking of?

No. That can’t be.

But despite my desperate denial, my Adam’s apple bobbed heavily.

“Is this formation still operational?”

I had directed the question at the two Sect Leaders, but the Slaughter Saint answered.

“The Third Fiend. I caught him here myself.”

“…He tried to escape through the Moving Formation.”

“Yes. But that was only his intention.”

“You mean…”

“As he later confessed, he tried to activate the formation. Nothing happened.”

“Oh.”

“One thing is certain. There is no flow of qi whatsoever within that formation. It has completely lost its power. Nothing remains but an empty shell.”

After finishing his explanation in a flat voice, the Slaughter Saint added,

“Judging from the circumstances that have come to light, Dark Heaven is without a doubt the successor to the Demonic Cult. The Demonic Cult possesses countless monstrous martial arts and supreme techniques, so it would not be strange if they had any number of bizarre arts.”

I had heard what kind of place the Demonic Cult was so many times that it had been drilled into my head.

A powerful religious organization that was the very embodiment of demonic, heterodox arts.

Although it had ultimately been defeated in the Great Faction War, it had managed to overwhelm the entire Murim for so long because of the countless monstrous martial arts and supreme techniques it possessed.

So this formation is one of the many bizarre arts passed down from the Demonic Cult?

No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t figure it out. Maybe all the fusion-fantasy novels I had read were getting in the way. This sort of thing showed up in them all the time, which somehow only made it more confusing.

They got away with it just fine in Mukhyung. Ugh. I shouldn’t have read a novel that never even got an ending.

Still, just in case, I decided to memorize the formation’s arrangement and patterns.

I was staring intently at the Moving Formation, engraving every detail into my mind, when the Slaughter Saint suddenly spoke.

“Judging by your behavior, you seem to know something. Does anything come to mind?”

“…”

What excuse was I supposed to make now?