“Sect Matriarch Abbess Master…”
Deep within the lightless reaches of the primeval forest, where the sun’s rays failed to penetrate the dense canopy, only the eerie, cold glint of swords infused with internal energy flickered against the gloom.
“Is there truly a need to make this difficult?” one of the Elders asked, her voice sliding through the shadows. “Relinquish your weapon and surrender quietly. Things will proceed far more smoothly that way.”
The Elders of the Emei Sect closed the distance with predatory strides, their murderous intent utterly unbecoming of Buddhist practitioners, though the same could easily be said for the Sect Matriarch Abbess Master herself.
“One more step…”
Clang!
The sharp ring of a blade being drawn echoed through the trees, but the steel that emerged from the Sect Matriarch Abbess Master’s scabbard was a far cry from holy, a dark, turgid length of metal that seemed to swallow what little light remained.
The Emei Elders faltered, their steady advance grinding to a halt at the sight of that ominous, oily sheen.
“Corpse Ghost Poison…” one muttered, her eyes narrowing. “For someone who harbors such visceral hatred for the Sichuan Tang Clan, you seem remarkably comfortable brandishing their most guarded secret.”
The Elders jeered openly, their mockery sharp and cutting, yet none dared to take another step forward.
“You of all people should know exactly how wretched this filth is,” the Sect Matriarch Abbess Master spat, her voice thick with venom. It was an ultimate poison for which no antidote existed; outside of the Tang Clan itself, no one was more well-versed in the Tang’s lethal alchemy than the Emei Sect.
She leveled the tainted blade at them, her gaze burning with desperation. “I may not be able to strike you all down, but I can promise this: at least two of you will be accompanying me to meet the Buddha today.”
While they remained locked in a tense stalemate, a great commotion erupted among the surrounding Emei disciples.
“The Elders?! And the Sect Matriarch Abbess Master?!”
“What… what is the meaning of this?!”
The sight of their sect’s highest authorities pointing blades at one another was a reality none of the younger disciples could easily process, let alone accept, and the Sect Matriarch Abbess Master naturally did not let the opportunity slip by.
“What are you standing there for?!” she roared, her voice amplified by a surge of internal energy as she scanned the perimeter. “Will you simply stand by and watch these rebels point their swords at the heart of Emei?!”
“Rebels…?”
“The Elders are staging a coup?”
Confusion rippled through the ranks, followed by the sporadic metallic rasps of swords being unsheathed, and a flicker of hope ignited within the Sect Matriarch Abbess Master’s chest, prompting her to bellow even louder.
“Subdue the traitors at once—!”
“—First-generation disciples, what is taking you so long?”
A lone Elder cut through the Sect Matriarch Abbess Master’s command with a low, authoritative growl. The most unsettling aspect of the situation wasn’t the looming threat of a bloody civil war in the middle of a deserted forest; it was the chilling composure of the Elders.
“Control the juniors,” the Elder continued, her voice level and devoid of any agitation. “Ensure they do not waver.”
“Disciples of Emei—!”
Sensing the world tilting on its axis, the Sect Matriarch Abbess Master tried to appeal to the first-generation disciples, but her words died in the air. They were already moving, efficiently herding the younger students away from the clearing.
“B-but…!”
“The Sect Matriarch Abbess Master is…!”
When several juniors hesitated, their faces masks of bewilderment, the first-generation disciples barked at them with ruthless finality. “I told you not to look! You saw nothing today! Do you understand?!”
Their categorical, cold efficiency silenced any further protest. The Sect Matriarch Abbess Master watched in horror as her cries for help were swallowed by the forest, reduced to hollow echoes that served only to mock her.
“You bitches…!”
Realization crashed into her when she saw that not a single first-generation disciple would even look her in the eye, and she turned her blistering gaze back to the Elders, her fury reaching a boiling point until her language turned foul. “You vile, shaven-headed bitches… you’ve even corrupted the first-generation!”
Spittle flew as her sanity began to fray. “Every one of you is going to rot in the pits of hell! I’ll drag you down myself! I’ll make sure of it!” She stood there radiating a raw, bestial bloodlust, looking for all the world like a cornered animal ready to tear out a throat.
“Amitabha…”
In stark contrast to her hysteria, the Elders remained disturbingly serene. “That is hardly the language befitting the head of the Great Emei Sect,” one remarked dryly. “With a mouth like that, I fear you’ll find it quite difficult to face the Buddha in the Pure Land.”
Their calm demeanor revealed the terrifying depth of the conspiracy. The Sect Matriarch Abbess Master, her face contorted into a mask of demonic rage, let out a low, guttural growl. “You… you bitches. You’ve colluded with the enemy, haven’t you!”
The answer did not come from the Elders, but from the shadows directly behind her.
“The ‘enemy’? My, how hurtful.”
The Sect Matriarch Abbess Master spun around, her heart hammering against her ribs. Standing there like a spectral apparition was a middle-aged man wearing gloves that shimmered with an eerie green luster.
“T-Tang Gwi-ho?!”
She recognized him instantly as the Deputy Head of the Sichuan Tang Clan and Commander of the Shadow Corps, the Patriarch’s personal intelligence agency.
“It has been quite some time, Sect Matriarch Abbess Master,” Tang Gwi-ho said, offering a polite greeting punctuated by his characteristic, somewhat effeminate titter. “Was it before I departed for Luoyang with the Young Lord that we last met?”
“You should be in Luoyang! Why are you here?!”
As far as the Sect Matriarch Abbess Master knew, Tang Gwi-ho was supposed to be in Luoyang, assisting his nephew, the Young Lord Tang Eun-rang, in establishing a foothold for the family. And the man who had made that Luoyang expansion possible was—
“No… it can’t be.”
A thin, oily smile spread across Tang Gwi-ho’s face. “Precisely. The Grand Young Master of the Sword Clan wished to bestow a great mercy upon the Emei Sect, and so, here I am.”
The realization hit the Sect Matriarch Abbess Master with the force of a thunderbolt, leaving her mind reeling.
“Since when…?” she shrieked, her face draining of color as she whirled back to the Elders. “Since when have you been in bed with that Grand Young Master brat?!”
“Now, now. Collusion is such an ugly word,” Tang Gwi-ho tutted, wagging a finger. “You shouldn’t disparage the Elders’ devoted efforts to preserve Emei’s thousand-year legacy for the next millennium.”
“What kind of absolute bullshit—!”
The Sect Matriarch Abbess Master’s retort was cut short as the Elders’ voices rose behind her. “The Sword Clan‘s Grand Young Master has promised us many things,” one explained. “In truth, his terms were far more generous than you deserved, given the atrocities you’ve committed as Sect Matriarch.”
“No… no, that’s impossible!” the Sect Matriarch Abbess Master cried, shaking her head in frantic denial. “You all supported joining this war! You agreed to it!”
“They certainly did,” Tang Gwi-ho replied, stepping closer. “However, by then, the Emei Elders had already received the Grand Young Master’s proposal.”
“What?”
One of the Elders took up the explanation, her voice devoid of remorse. “The Grand Young Master offered us terms that were simply too magnanimous to ignore, Sect Matriarch Abbess Master.”
She began to recite the conditions Yeon So-hyeon had sent via secret correspondence. “It matters not if you join the war. However, should you participate in even a single battle, the deal is void. Furthermore, should the tides of war turn against Gong Liang or the Third Young Master before Emei arrives, he promised to accept Emei‘s surrender at any time.”
The subtext was clear: as long as they didn’t stain their hands with blood, they would be welcomed into the fold whenever they chose to turn their coats.
“How… how could he offer such a deal?!”
The Sect Matriarch Abbess Master’s wrinkled face twitched with a violent tremor. “It’s too generous! It’s far too generous! That devilish brat would never make such a lenient trade unless—”
Her eyes bulged until they looked ready to pop from their sockets. She desperately wanted to reject the conclusion her mind was forcing upon her, but there was no other logical explanation for such kindness.
“You…” her voice shook uncontrollably as she looked at the Elders. “You’ve agreed to hand the Emei Sect over to him, haven’t you? To that brat!”
The only response was a solemn prayer. “Amitabha…”
The Sect Matriarch Abbess Master’s legs gave out, and she collapsed to the forest floor as if her bones had turned to ash. “Emei… to think the thousand-year legacy of Emei would end with my generation because of a group of incompetent Elders…”
The Elders sighed in unison. “Hah, ‘incompetent,’ she says.”
“It seems you still haven’t grasped the situation,” another Elder remarked, her voice dripping with blatant contempt. “You are the one who pointlessly antagonized the Grand Young Master and jeopardized our flourishing sect. To think you have the audacity to speak of incompetence.”
“How long did you think we would sit idly by while you made one disastrous, life-threatening choice after another to cover up your own blunders?”
“Amitabha. This is nothing more than your own karma catching up to you.”
The Sect Matriarch Abbess Master could only stare at them with a vacant, hollow expression. How had things come to this? It felt as though she had been ensnared in a waking nightmare, a spell she couldn’t break.
“Deputy Head Tang.”
“Speak,” Tang Gwi-ho replied.
One of the Elders turned to him. “You will fulfill your promise to help Emei expand beyond Sichuan, correct?”
“Of course,” Tang Gwi-ho purred, a thin smile playing on his lips. “As you well know, among the former Nine Great Sects, Emei is not the first to become a branch of the Luoyang Sword Clan.”
The Zhongnan, the Diancang, and the Kongtong were all now subordinate sects of the Sword Clan, having pledged their absolute loyalty to Grand Young Master Yeon So-hyeon.
“And look at their current state,” Tang Gwi-ho said, his voice as sweet as poisoned honey. “Have they been stripped of their interests? Are they being exploited and bled dry? No. Quite the contrary. Their names shine brighter now than they ever did while they were languishing in the shadows of Shaolin, Wudang, and Mount Hua.”
He extended a hand toward the Elders. “Emei can share in that glory now.”
The only sound in the clearing was the audible gulp of the Elders as they swallowed their greed.
“…That promise,” the Elder at the front finally spoke. “I expect it to be kept.”
“But of course!” Tang Gwi-ho clapped his hands together in a celebratory gesture, only to pause abruptly, tapping his forehead as if he’d just remembered a minor detail. “Ah! I almost forgot.”
“Forgot what?” one of the Elders asked, her brow furrowing with sudden anxiety.
“In order for us to fulfill our end of the bargain,” Tang Gwi-ho said, gesturing toward the broken figure of the Sect Matriarch Abbess Master, “you must first fulfill yours.”
“Ah, I see.” The Elders nodded in cold agreement.
Startled back to her senses by the gesture, the Sect Matriarch Abbess Master scrambled to her feet, brandishing her sword with bared teeth. “Come then!”
There was no retreat left. She leveled her blade at the surrounding figures, igniting every drop of her internal energy, including her very life essence. “The first one to move won’t even have a corpse left once this poison touches her!”
“Oh.”
Tang Gwi-ho reached into his robes with a casual air, pulling out a small pouch and tossing it to the Elders. “That is the antidote for the Corpse Ghost Poison. Please, feel free to fight without any concerns.”
“What… what did you say?!” The Sect Matriarch Abbess Master’s voice cracked, her sword hand trembling violently. “The Corpse Ghost Poison has no antidote… it’s impossible!”
“Aha.” Tang Gwi-ho shrugged, cutting her off with effortless nonchalance. “Well, we have to tell people there’s no antidote so that customers like you will pay such outrageous, astronomical sums for it on the black market.”
“…”
And so, on that day, in the depths of a nameless forest, the Emei Sect—once a pillar of the Nine Great Sects—fell to its knees before Grand Young Master Yeon So-hyeon.