Living-Dead Eccentric (3)

Ma Jong-hwan looked at me with concern.

“Are you all right?”

His eyes went to the sujeon coin-dart stuck in my arm—Dong Paegyeong’s throw.

After I first reeled my Three-Color Arrow-Snakes back in, I smiled.

“I’m fine. I practice external arts—my skin’s tough, pain’s dulled. And thanks to the antidote you gave me, the venom was neutralized right away. Much obliged, elder.”

That wasn’t just politeness. The antidote Ma had passed me while we were running had completely countered the cinnabar toxin on Dong’s dart. I’d also squeezed the info about his poison out of a junior earlier, which helped. As for the wound—an internal-qi-laden dart should have punched straight through arm and torso, but it had first slowed punching through my sword, and my hardened body took the rest; it only left a shallow hole. Using my old sword instead of Black Wolf so he wouldn’t recognize the blade turned out wise, too. And training external arts with Bae Jonggwan had been an even better decision than I’d thought.

Ma shook his head.

“Even so—don’t take wounds lightly. Let me see.”

He eased the dart out, nodded, and smeared on medicine.

“So you are cultivating external arts. Then it’s not too bad.”

Then he asked,

“Who are you, truly? At your age you’re already top first-rate, your lightness skill surpasses pinnacle experts, you improvise like a fox—and you even temper the body. I’d find it stranger not to have heard of someone like you. Will you give your name?”

I grinned.

“Of course, elder. I’m Seonu Jin of the Flying Dragon Thirteenth Squad, Seventh Platoon. We were out on leave when your plight reached us—call it fate.”

“Flying Dragon Unit?!”

He blinked.

“Ah, that explains why no one’s heard.”

We moved again as we talked—mostly about how we pulled his children out. He sighed after hearing it.

“So they were holding that misunderstanding. I thought it best at the time, but… that was cruel to them. Thank you. Without you they might have died hating me.”

“That was my friend’s doing, actually. Strictly speaking, he’s the one who rescued them. Give him the thanks when you meet him.”

Mid-sentence, I stiffened and pressed a finger to my lips.

“Wait.”

I listened. Footfalls up ahead—many of them.

“People, coming from the front. Looks like they’ve already tightened the ring this far.”

I’d thought we were only half-surrounded; apparently it was a full cordon. For an instant I considered punching through—but shook my head. The sides closing in would likely include pinnacle experts; three of them were still at large. No careless gambles.

“We’ll turn back, elder. The gap should be widest where I broke through.”

More exactly: wherever my captain was coming from—but I had no precise fix on him.

“Forgive me—let me carry you again.”

“My apologies, to trouble you so.”

I shouldered the Living-Dead Eccentric and sprinted. I angled our route slightly north of where I’d killed Dong Paegyeong—guessing the captain would be coming from the north. Unluckily, the first one I met wasn’t him.

“There! Get him!”

The one barreling in from the northwest with a horde—huge as Bae Jonggwan, iron mace in hand, shaggy black face—had to be Black Mountain Iron Mace Han Jeoksam, the third brother of Go Ju-yong. My chosen line was west; with that northwestern wedge rushing to cap us, I pivoted and ran back the way I’d come.

“Don’t let him slip! Encircle! Throw!”

Han Jeoksam bellowed, and the force pinching from the north let fly. Apparently the dolt forgot they weren’t to kill the Eccentric.

Ping! Ping! Fwish! Whirr!

I batted the darts aside with Black Wolf at my left.

Ting! Ting! Ting!

At that level, I didn’t even need to look.

Han Jeoksam roared again,

“He’s got Black Wolf! How did he get that blade?!”

As expected. All black with a wolf-head guard—hard to miss. That was why I’d used my old sword against Dong; but its edge was ruined by his dart, and I’d had no choice. Looked like I’d gained one more reason to erase the Black Market.

I eased my pace—just enough to keep them thinking they could catch me. As a pinnacle, Han Jeoksam was of course leading the charge, the gap shrinking: three jang, two, one—

“Got you!”

He thought—

And I ran straight up a massive trunk.

Tatatatak!

“W-what?!”

While he skidded to a stunned halt, I skimmed along the branches and leapt far toward the west I’d wanted all along.

Pabak!

“Uwaa!”

“Don’t lose him! Throw!”

Panic-struck, they hurled more darts—but they couldn’t match the burst of speed.

Ping! Ping! Ping!

As the air tore behind me, I lobbed black coin-darts—Dong Paegyeong’s—into my landing zone.

Fushushushuk!

“Gyaaaah!”

“Uraagh!”

“Aaagh!”

Their screams laced the dart-barrage. I touched down light among them and let the sword bloom.

Second Form of the Seonu Thirteen Swords—Divine Responding Wing.

Shuaaaaa!

Sword-light spread like unfurling wings; Black Market blood fountained in fans. I shot through the red corridor like a leopard and ran flat out again.

Behind me, Han Jeoksam howled,

“You wretch! I’ll never let you live!”

Surprisingly, we agreed. I had no intention of letting him live either.

But this was no time for snark. The net was shrinking faster than I liked; enemies were already surfacing from the southwest.

“There! The one on his back is Ma Jong-hwan! Don’t let them get away!”

The sharp-eyed saberman in his fifties—had to be Go Ju-yong, the Black Market Overlord. He wasn’t known for lightness skill, yet his speed chasing us mocked even Dong Paegyeong’s. If the north and south had coughed up two pinnacles, had I kept east I’d have run into Black Light Wheel Gak Gi-hyo with the black light wheels. So: my western course was the best choice. That didn’t make the situation friendly. Rumor had it Go Ju-yong’s inner power neared ninety years. True or not, the speed on display wasn’t a joke. I couldn’t simply outrun him.

Then I saw it: the ground ended ahead.

We’d made it back to the cliff we’d climbed earlier. Then, we’d gone up; now, we had to go down. The drop was about thirty jang—a hundred meters. With the Eccentric on my back, jumping was… not ideal.

Go Ju-yong thought the same.

“It ends at a cliff! Spread left and right—block the flanks!”

On my back, the Eccentric said,

“Set me down at the edge. I’ll buy you time as you descend. They won’t lay hands on me.”

That was one way. In my last life he’d managed to kill Go Ju-yong even without me. But—ugh. Hand him over with a ‘sorry’ and run? After all this way? My pride balked.

I asked,

“Elder—do you trust me?”

He flustered.

“You? O-of course I do. But—”

Even if he’d said no, I would’ve done it. Since he said yes, I didn’t hesitate.

“Then please—leave it to me.”

“Leave what—?!”

I exploded forward.

Pabak!

“Y-you!”

Ge yelped—

And I dove like a bird off the three-dozen-jang drop.

“Yeehaw!”

“Aaagh! You—!”

The ground was a yawning pit swallowing me. It felt like flying—until gravity reasserted itself hard.

Now it mattered.

I locked my grip on the Eccentric and twisted, spinning us in the air like a ball. When the rotation felt right, I heaved him upward, opposite our fall—toward the sky.

“Haaaap!”

“You—?!”

His eyes shot away, shrinking—my body plummeted faster from the counterforce, a meteor for the earth. Even then my mind stayed cool; nerves honed to a blade. The ground rushed up. For a breath the world seemed to slow—everything else lagging while I alone stayed razor-clear.

My feet touched.

A colossal shock hammered me—enough to shatter a man. I stepped it down like stairs: toe-tip, toes, sole, ankle, knee, pelvis, waist—bleeding the force joint by joint, water without form. A heartbeat later I was bouncing, rolling hard. The force dissipated—completely.

Elation burned hot in my chest. I wanted to spring up and cheer.

But work first.

I whipped upright and checked the sky. The Eccentric I’d thrown up was dropping back down.

Tak!

I sprang, caught him.

“Huh—!” He stared, dazed.

I smiled.

“You all right, elder?”

He needed a moment to find his tongue.

“If you ask me again whether I trust you, I shall answer no. I thought I was dead.”

I grinned.

“I was going to jump even if you’d said no.”

“Hurk.”

Now I could joke. Go Ju-yong stood atop the cliff, mouth hanging open. And ahead lay the path I’d already swept clean. All I had to do was run it back out.

Or so I thought—for a few blinks.

“Wahahaha! I knew you’d circle back! Still in this Elder Gak’s palm!”

Men stepped from ambush ahead. Their leader, lithe middle-aged man with a matched pair of wheels, had to be the second brother—Black Light Wheel Gak Gi-hyo.

This time I was rattled. An ambush on the very route I’d cleared?

I skidded to a halt. Above, Go Ju-yong burst out laughing.

“Wahahaha! That’s my Brother Gak indeed! Well done—wahahaha!”

I glanced around.

No way out. Not back. Not forward.

Sideways was possible—but their line was spread wide. This time, I truly was encircled.

My vision dimmed at the edges.