Chapter 478: I Don’t Believe in Legends (14)

East Gate.

Qing was shouting with all the vigor in the world.

She was Qing—her inner qi was so abundant it overflowed. Even if she wasted it by pouring it into every bellow at the top of her lungs, she still had more left.

“Everyone! This is no time to just stand around! The people at the South, West, and North Gates are already one step, one step closer to the Shin Family Tomb!”

Qing cried out with a voice that seemed to tear her own chest.

The martial artists who had been blocking off the East Gate, standing with their backs to it, could not hide the unease in their eyes.

“At such a time, are you the only ones going to fall behind!? Strike the gate together! All of you, strike the gate!”

Qing appealed for them to break it down.

Her original plan had been to pull off another one-hit gate-destruction stunt, then head to the South Gate.

But at the East Gate, of all places, the factions had split front and back, not left and right.

Thanks to that, the one-hit sword-fusion tactic was blocked.

Even for Qing, the brute-force woman with transcendent strength, if she couldn’t even get to the gate itself, she had nothing to strike.

So what could she do?

At the very least, she had to try appealing—(inciting)—with words.

And Qing’s skill at rousing (inciting) had already long surpassed the imagination of the Central Plains.

Because Central Plains people—badly put, they were dimwitted; kindly put, they were guileless.

Back in Qing’s homeland, propaganda, agitation, and morale-boosting were something you might brush against dozens of times a day.

Compared to that, the people of the Central Plains had [N O V E L I G H T] practically no immunity at all to agitation or propaganda.

“Heavenly Venerate? What if she’s right, what if the other gates really are all open?”

“Nonsense. Impossible. ‘Da Yeoreum’? Anyone can tell that’s a fake name. Clearly she’s a saboteur sent to trick us and destroy our gate.”

“But... if by chance it’s true...”

“This is the pure truth! Gates open to those who knock! The path is not to be waited for, but to be broken through and carved open! And so I, this humble speaker, cry out with all my strength!”

Still, no one actually moved to smash the stone gate.

Qing grew desperate.

In a moment, people would be pouring down from the collapsed North Gate.

Anxious, Qing began spouting anything that came to mind.

Her specialty—bullshit that didn’t even sound like real words.

“Everyone! Just give Da Yeoreum a chance! Already, countless gates have opened themselves before me! Before me, thousands upon thousands of doors have opened of their own accord to welcome me!”

Of course—Qing had once lived in a world of automatic doors. Had she not walked through doors that opened just by standing before them more times than she could count?

But the crowd’s gazes turned cold.

Now she was claiming doors opened automatically.

Even those who had begun to think, “Wait, could the other gates really be open?” lost that fragile curiosity.

“Everyone! A swordsman who has reached the ultimate stage raises the sword of the heart and swings it! Likewise, I, the Divine Sovereign Emperor of Mechanisms, having reached the extreme of mechanisms, command mechanisms with the heart! That is why I bear this epithet—Divine Sovereign Emperor of Mechanisms! Do you not understand the supreme reverence in such a title? The world’s greatest master of mechanisms! That is I!”

“Hm?”

“Huh?”

“That... sort of makes sense, doesn’t it?”

A few thin-eared martial artists wavered.

If one who had reached the extreme in martial arts could raise the sword of the heart—then might not one who had reached the extreme of mechanisms command them with the heart?

And how extraordinary must one be to cram “Divine, Sovereign, Emperor, of Mechanisms” all into a single epithet?

Still, the number swayed was only a few.

However guileless Central Plains folk were, they weren’t so gullible as to swallow just anything.

The stares turned colder and colder.

Qing ignored them and spewed fire.

“Thus I, Da Yeoreum, have reached the supreme state of opening all gates! I grasp all gates in my hands! I hold them tight, like this! Gate, will you not open right now? If you defy me, I’ll kill you, I’ll smash you! All gates, I hold you in my grasp! I say to you, ‘Open this instant!’—”

And right then.

Gu-goong...!

A bizarre vibration, heavy and massive, rose from beneath their feet.

Everyone turned as one.

“Th-the gate!?”

“It’s opening, it’s opening!”

So it was.

With a shudder that seemed to shake the entire mountainside, the enormous stone gate slowly sank downward.

Martial artists turned their heads, slowly, back toward the gate.

Their eyes carried disbelief—but not the bad kind of disbelief.

Rather, it was the disbelief one felt before some vast wonder, a mystery that ought not exist in this world.

And the rest of their eyes glittered with awe and admiration.

“It’s really all-opening—Da Yeoreum!”

“We believed in you!”

“The Sword of the Heart... no, the Mechanism of the Heart! The state of the Heart-Mechanism!”

“Divine Sovereign Emperor of Mechanisms!”

“Divine Sovereign Emperor of Mechanisms!”

“Da Yeoreum! Da Yeoreum! Da Yeoreum!”

In an instant, the martial artists were chanting her fake name and ridiculous epithet.

...What the fuck. Why did it open?

But what could she do now? It wasn’t as though she could shout, “Close, sesame!”

So Qing, taking it in stride, flung her hand into the air.

Cheers erupted.

“Everyone! I have done my duty here, and now I will withdraw! I am Da Yeoreum! If you find a door that won’t open, seek out Da Yeoreum of Zhangjiajie!”

She wrapped up with nonsense and hastily turned away.

****

Jin Jangmyeong’s eyes shone, and she raised a thumb.

“You really opened it. Amazing.”

“No, I—I don’t... fuck, I don’t even know.”

Elder Cheon Yuhak snorted through his nose.

“Brat. What are you going to do if you actually open it?”

“Hey, it’s not like I opened it. How was I supposed to know it would really open?”

Qing was indignant.

Why the hell did it open when she told it to?

Was it... voice recognition?

Could such a primitive ancient China really have that?

But then again, maybe.

If they could apply the cosmic mystery of qi, why not?

Wasn’t formation craft something that trapped people in illusions?

Hadn’t it even displayed people’s deepest wounds before their eyes? Pure miracle, mystery itself.

“Hm. Maybe I accidentally discovered the method without realizing it. Oh dear, such genius.”

“Hah. What’s done is done. First, let us make sure the South Gate is destroyed. If only one exit remains, the wielder of the Absorbing Qi Demonic Art will surely crawl out through it.”

Elder Cheon Yuhak wasn’t one to fuss about what had already happened.

And it wasn’t as though his disciple had done it on purpose.

It was just an unlucky accident. What was the point of blaming her?

“We can’t use Da Yeoreum at the South Gate, right?”

“Naturally. By now, those who came down from the West Gate will be there. We can’t repeat it again.”

Da Yeoreum had already appeared three times.

No matter how effective a ploy, you stopped at three.

Even in classical meter, there was iljeol, ijeol, samjeol—beyond that, it had another name entirely.

“So what do we do?”

“There’s always a way. We’ve already seen that trickery brings down the gates. This time, we’ll try planting a fake heart.”

Here shone Elder Cheon Yuhak’s other career—his sideline as a quack medicine hawker.

Operation Fake Heart!

One: Namgung Sinjae unleashes Sword Force to prove before all that he is an Absolute.

Two: The rest of the group feigns betrayal and attacks him, tearing out his heart.

Three: They place the prepared fake heart at the gate’s heart-slot.

Four: The gate that swallows the fake heart collapses. Perfect!

Thus they would stage a grand swindle from a hidden mountain nook.

But first, disguises had to be reworked—again.

Da Yeoreum’s face had become far too well known.

“Bah. Your face is too famous now. No matter what you add, it won’t work. And if you bare your chest, well, how many women in the world have that size and are masters besides you? So—”

“Wow! A Human-Skin Mask!”

At last, Qing had gotten her hands on the legendary disguise tool.

She turned the sagging sheet of human face-skin this way and that, and Elder Cheon Yuhak chuckled.

“What’s so great about that?”

“It’s fascinating. I’ve always wanted to try it at least once.”

“Hmph. Once you wear it, you’ll never want to again. Now, wrap this around your head. Tuck the hair tight inside your clothes.”

First a netlike thing bound her hair, stuffing the long locks into the back of her collar.

Then she pulled a cow’s stomach over her head.

Qing realized something was very wrong.

What the hell? It was already suffocating.

Why would anyone put something like a condom over someone’s head?

Only then did she pull the Human-Skin Mask over.

It stretched down wide below the nape, tucked into the clothes.

Tight and clammy, it clung to her face. The suffocating discomfort was beyond words.

Already sweat poured down.

She tried running Han-Shim-Gong to cool off.

Her face bulged and warped grotesquely.

“Brat, are you planning to strut around announcing you’re wearing a Human-Skin Mask?”

“I’m doomed...”

Qing slumped, hollow-eyed.

This wasn’t it. This really wasn’t it.

Next was the matter of preparing a fake heart.

While Elder Cheon Yuhak left to hunt an animal, the party rehearsed their lines.

By the time he returned half an hour later, they had the whole performance set.

Namgung Sinjae’s anguished cries of betrayal were especially stirring.

And Qing’s fawning, groveling act as she offered up his heart—so natural everyone thought, maybe that isn’t acting at all, maybe that’s her true self.

They stuffed a boar’s heart and a pouch of its blood on Namgung Sinjae, and gave it a final run-through.

It was perfect. The very picture of a professional con troupe.

Except—they never got to perform it.

Because when they reached the South Gate, it was already wide open.

“It’s... open.”

“It is open...”

“Mm.”

“And we practiced so hard...”

Not a single one of them wondered why.

“Guess we were too late.”

They simply assumed some impatient bastards had ripped out a heart and fed it in already.

Their grand plan—to collapse every gate and bury the Absorbing Qi Demonic Art under the mountain—was ruined.

What else could they do?

They had no choice but to enter.

And so—

At the South Gate, martial artists clustered in packs, their eyes fierce.

But they only glared.

None moved to stop them from entering the Shin Family Tomb.

They were waiting outside to ambush whoever came out with the manual.

Of course, with multiple exits, it might not even be here.

And since no one knew when anyone might emerge, they had to just keep waiting.

Better to wait outside than to risk the unknown dangers within.

And so, no one barred Qing’s party’s way.

Thus began their incursion into the Shin Family Tomb.