Nothing Has Changed. (4)

Puuuk!

“Aaaaaah!”

An arrow sank into his chest. A Southern Island disciple screamed, unable to bear the pain.

They could, of course, bat away ordinary falling arrows. They hadn’t trained carelessly until now.

But when arrowheads struck the sword barriers the elders had formed, shattered, and sprayed outwards, there was nothing they could do to stop them embedding everywhere.

“Kuh, kuuh…”

A burning pain in his chest drained strength from his entire body. He sank down clutching his sternum.

“Let go!”

At that moment, as if sensing it, Tang Soso dashed over, ripped his hand away, and checked the wound.

“Miss… back…”

Another shard of a broken arrow flew and lodged in Tang Soso’s back as she sat before the fallen man. She didn’t flinch and began to probe his wound.

“Hold on!”

Clenching her teeth, Tang Soso pressed a suture needle to the injured man’s wound and plunged it in without hesitation.

Crunch!

At the same time, the lodged arrowhead burst through his back.

“Waaaah!”

A desperate scream tore out of him, but Tang Soso held him down and stuffed antidote and a styptic into the gaping wound. Her hands were soon stained dark with blood.

To the eye, it was an exceedingly brutal method. But there was no other choice now. Left as is, the arrowheads would sink further, twist through the body, and might reach the heart.

If there wasn’t time to carefully split the wound and remove the arrowhead, this way was actually safer.

Having quickly bound the wound, Tang Soso left the semi-unconscious man and lunged to the side to treat another who groaned with an arrow lodged in his throat.

But before she could reach him, he pulled the arrow from his own throat. Blood gushed out in choked waves.

“Ah, no!”

Tang Soso screamed and desperately clamped the wound with both hands.

“Kk, kkrrk…”

Foamy blood bubbled up in his mouth and the color drained from the man’s face.

“Hold on! Just hold on a bit longer! I’ll save you, so hang on!”

But despite her cry, life drained quickly from his eyes. The light of living faded.

Tang Soso’s fingertips trembled faintly. The blood she felt was still so hot, yet he was no longer among the living.

She squeezed her eyes shut and leapt up. She ran toward another falling figure. She didn’t want to cry, but tears kept coming at every chance. She could barely see ahead.

But there was no time to wipe them or to grieve.

Powerless. Miserably so.

No matter what she did, she couldn’t save the dying. There was no way to stop the light going out of the eyes of those who looked at her, pleading to be saved.

Had she known that being a physician was this torturous, she would never have taken up medicine.

Yet she ignored despair and kept moving. Among all those here, she was the only physician.

Paaahng!

At that moment, a massive iron bolt, loaded with enormous internal qi, hurtled toward her at tremendous speed. Tang Soso’s eyes widened as she sensed it. Before she could react, someone streaked in like lightning and smashed the bolt aside.

“Sasuk!”

It was Baek Cheon. He gritted his teeth and stared toward where the bolt had come from. He wanted to dash over and tear those damned bastards limb from limb, but there was no way he could leave here now.

‘Yoon Jong, Jo Gul! Hurry…!’

He had no choice but to trust those who had gone and hold the line.

“They’re coming again!”

Baek Cheon’s gaze snapped up to the sky. The Southern Island elders who had just held off the bombardment hadn’t yet regained their footing, and more arrows were already pouring down.

‘No!’

Baek Cheon leapt into the air. His eyes were bloodshot. Even without help he had to do something; otherwise, he’d be forced to watch people die with their eyes open again.

He squeezed out the last of his internal qi from his dantian. But before he could push it into his sword, someone beside him soared even higher.

“Samae!”

At that familiar silhouette Baek Cheon couldn’t help but shout. Yu Yiseol, leaping up like a phoenix, swung her sword at the raining arrows.

Sshhhh!

With a sound like steel scraping silk, Yu Yiseol’s sword drew a great circle in the air, like a full moon.

The Moon Maiden Sword at its peak.

The sword qi formed by that arc acted like a huge umbrella in a storm, stopping the deluge of arrows.

“Samae, be careful! There’s bombardment incoming!”

Baek Cheon shouted urgently. At that moment something streaked past him at incredible speed.

‘Dagger?’

A dagger flew like a vortex cutting through the air. Whirling fiercely, it shot straight into the forest ahead.

“Aaaaaah!”

It was distant and faint, but a scream was definitely heard.

That dagger must have achieved something. Tang Pae, who had arrived a bit later than the dagger I fired, rolled to avoid the rain of arrows and shouted.

“I can keep the cannon fire in check! Just stop the arrows, Acting Sect Leader!”

“Yes!”

Baek Cheon landed lightly and felt strength returning to his body.

Only two people had joined, yet the air seemed to clear in an instant. It was a moment that proved how much power a single master could bring on the martial world.

The others weren’t idle either.

“Damn it! Stop pushing forward and stick to the cliff face!”

Im So-Byeong shouted the command.

“Mount Hua people and young lords, don’t waste strength on arrows—deal only with the cannonballs! Elders, while stopping arrows, cling so the person behind has their chest against your back! Then you only need to defend above—idiots!”

A command given in the chaos becomes a landmark by its mere presence. It didn’t matter whether the one issuing it was the leader of the Evil Sect or not. To save themselves, everyone instinctively followed the order.

Paaaah!

Yu Yiseol touched down and charged forward at tremendous speed.

“Samae!”

Baek Cheon called urgently, but Yu Yiseol didn’t even turn her head.

Paaaaaang!

Perhaps perceiving Yu Yiseol’s movement as a threat, a bolt at terrifying speed flew at her. But she, still running, sliced her sword and struck the incoming bolt.

Clang!

Metal clashed with metal in a sharp ringing. The deflected bolt sliced along Yu Yiseol’s shoulder as it passed.

But Yu Yiseol seemed not to care about the wound… rather, she ran as if unaware she’d been cut. She looked unbearably urgent.

Sensing something wrong, Baek Cheon took a step instinctively and then stopped. He bit the inside of his cheek.

Bodies were piling on the ground. The Southern Island disciples’ and elders’ corpses were studded with arrows like hedgehogs.

What he had to do was protect everyone here—reduce the number of people ending up like that by even one.

His hand holding the sword trembled as his internal qi waned, but there was no room for weak words.

Kwaaaang! Kwaaaaang!

At the bombardment roaring at their ears again, Baek Cheon lashed out at the incoming shells as if in a frenzy.

Blood seeped from his bitten lip. But Jo Gul felt no pain.

There were archers ahead firing arrows like rain. Charging there and cutting them down wasn’t that difficult.

But Jo Gul suppressed that urge as if driving a blade into his thigh.

‘Where are you!’

He was definitely nearby. One of the archers firing those brutal bolts! If they didn’t deal with him, the main force couldn’t move.

‘Where are you!’

Jo Gul swiftly scanned the surroundings. The razor-edge sense of Tanger spread rapidly in all directions.

A moment later.

“Found you!”

Jo Gul bent his waist and surged forward like an arrow.

The archer, realizing his position had been exposed, fired arrow after arrow at Jo Gul—a terrifying rapid shot. Dozens of bolts rained down on him at once.

But Jo Gul’s speed was unmatched. His sword moved as if splitting light, knocking every flying arrow aside.

“You bastard!”

Even as the attacks poured in, Jo Gul’s speed didn’t falter, and bewilderment crept into the masked archer’s eyes.

But only for a moment—realizing rapid fire alone wouldn’t be enough, the archer poured his mood and inner energy into his arrows.

Wooooooong!

When internal qi is put into a blade it resonates. The arrows in his hand began to writhe like living carp. Nocking one, he pulled the steel-twisted bowstring to the breaking point.

Kkrrrk!

With the bow drawn to its limit he took aim at Jo Gul.

But Jo Gul, knowing a bolt laden with tremendous internal qi was aimed at him, didn’t dodge; he ran straight toward it.

As the distance closed so their eyes met.

Paang!

The archer released the string. The arrow spun fiercely and flew straight for Jo Gul.

Kwaaaaah!

Air coiled toward the arrowhead, creating a vortex in the air that resembled an enraged dragon.

Jo Gul, resisting it, drew his sword hand back over his left shoulder.

“Haap!”

With a shout, the edge of his Plum Blossom Sword struck the incoming arrow with all his might.

Kaaaaaang!

A metallic sound, almost like an explosion, rang sharply.

Even with all his force in the blade, the internal qi-filled arrow did not bounce off; it advanced as if to bite into Jo Gul’s sword. The arrowhead’s spinning against the blade made a chilling grinding sound.

A normal iron sword would have shattered instantly under that impact. But the Plum Blossom Sword, infused with the Tang Family’s essence, stubbornly withstood the spinning, burrowing arrow.

And at that moment.

“Taaap!”

With a fierce shout, Jo Gul thrust his left hand toward the sword. His hand, stained green with Mount Hua’s Bamboo Leaf Palm technique, slammed hard against the opposite side of the blade where the arrow had struck.

Kwaaaang!

The added shock to the sword twisted the arrow’s trajectory. Still, its remaining force grazed Jo Gul’s side.

Jo Gul’s flank bore a hollowed, semicircular wound, and the left hand that struck the blade was cut so deeply bone showed.

The price bought him only the distance of about three paces to the enemy.

“Ugh!”

The archer quickly leapt back, drew another arrow from his quiver, and nocked it.

Just as he raised the bow to aim at his opponent, a streak of light flew into his sight.

Paaaah!

A swift sword pierced the archer’s throat in an instant.

“Gak…”

The archer gave a strangled sound and crumpled with a look of disbelief.

‘Couldn’t even see it…’

Thud.

Jo Gul, having pulled the sword from the archer’s neck, clenched his blood-soaked left hand and drove his foot into the ground.

‘Where next!’

The mischievous, lively expression that was always on his face had been replaced by a cold, blade-like countenance.