Chapter 55. Wudang Sect (3)
Over the past two days, I had eaten well, washed up properly, and slept soundly.
Tang Sowol had sent a letter to the Tang Clan, but considering the distance, even at the fastest pace, it would still take a few more days for a response to arrive.
So, I had woken up early with the intention of exploring the Wudang Sect's grounds and taking care of the friendly sparring match that had been proposed earlier.
"Are you awake, Brother?"
Tang Sowol, who should have her own room, was standing in mine as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Even though we were engaged, this was still an unmarried man's room. Was it really okay for her to just barge in like this?
"What are your plans for today? If you're planning to laze around like you did the past two days, I've found something fun we could—"
"No. I plan to look around the area and then visit the training grounds. I have an agreement with the Flowing Cloud Sword Immortal, remember?"
Tang Sowol, who had been about to pull out a set of game tiles from her sleeve, quietly tucked them back in at my words. Her disappointed expression made me chuckle.
"But there will be time left in the evening, right? Can you spare a moment to play then?"
"Yes! As much as you'd like!"
Tang Sowol's face brightened instantly, and she even began humming a little tune. She was so easy to read.
Stretching out my arms to loosen my stiff body from the night's rest, I got out of bed.
Tang Sowol, still looking pleased, stood there watching me. When I tilted my head at her in question, she just cocked her head in response.
So, I loosened my robe halfway.
"I'm about to change now... Are you planning to stay there?"
"H-Heek! I-I was just about to leave!"
With her face turning bright red, Tang Sowol bolted out of the room.
Chuckling at her flustered retreat, I changed into fresh clothes.
After tidying up my bedding, I finally stepped outside to find the Blood Venom Unit's leader standing as stoic as ever—while Tang Sowol peeked out from behind her.
No matter how slender Tang Sowol was, an adult hiding behind someone else wasn't exactly effective.
Ignoring the strands of hair and the puffed-up fabric of her robes sticking out from behind the Blood Venom Unit's leader, I greeted her.
"Good morning, Unit Leader. Was there any trouble last night?"
"No, sir. Although the young lady stayed up late practicing how to cheat at tile games, there was nothing else of note."
"…What."
When she had said she found something fun, I had assumed she meant playing tiles together, not secretly practicing to cheat on her own.
As I narrowed my eyes at her, Tang Sowol, startled, began patting the unit leader's back in protest.
"Why would you tell him that?! And how did you even know? We have separate rooms!"
"We're right next door. I could hear you mumbling to yourself all night."
"Did I talk that much to myself?"
"You usually don't, but last night was an exception. It seems you were quite excited. You even practiced how you would tease him after winning."
"Kyaaah! You didn't have to say that much!"
Tang Sowol was now outright smacking the unit leader's shoulders in an attempt to silence her. But by now, her embarrassment had already betrayed the truth.
I shrugged and asked, "Did you really want to beat me that badly?"
"Well… yes, I suppose so."
"That works out, then. If the category doesn't matter, there's actually something you'll always beat me at."
"Oh? And what would that be?"
Tang Sowol peeked out from behind the unit leader, curious. I extended a hand toward her.
"You know, if I hold hands with someone, I get so embarrassed I can't handle it."
"…?"
"I'm about to walk around the Wudang Sect's grounds. If someone were to grab my hand, I don't know what I'd do."
Tang Sowol looked between my hand and my face before she suddenly grinned.
Then, she placed her hand on mine—and even interlaced our fingers so I couldn't escape.
"Wait. Now that we're actually walking around like this, it's really embarrassing."
"That's the point. So? Do I finally seem like the older one here?"
"…A little."
At my nod, Tang Sowol beamed with satisfaction and pulled me forward.
"Then let's get going. I met a few Wudang disciples when I was young, but this is my first time inside the sect's grounds. I'm looking forward to it."
"I was thinking of starting with the route the pilgrims take. What do you think?"
"Hmm. Seems like a safe and reasonable choice."
As one of Daoism's sacred sites for centuries, Zhongnan Mountain had many famous landmarks. The Wudang Sect had absorbed these into its territory and used them as a source of income.
Thanks to that, there were many rare sights to see. Among them, the most striking was the ritual offerings.
Lighting candles, burning talismans—it all resembled the long-forgotten art of talismanic magic.
If it were an ordinary Daoist performing this, I would have dismissed it as a charlatan trying to make money.
But this was a ritual hosted by none other than the Wudang Sect.
As a direct successor to the Quanzhen Sect alongside Mount Hua, Wudang was renowned for its strict adherence to orthodox Daoist traditions.
So maybe… just maybe, these rituals really did have some effect.
However—
"It doesn't seem to be doing anything."
"Yes. That's how it looks to me, too."
There was no visible change in the flow of energy. No discernible effect of any kind.
Of course, it was possible that our eyes simply couldn't perceive the ritual's deeper mysteries.
But from what I could see, there was nothing happening at all.
As we tilted our heads in confusion, a familiar voice came from behind us.
"It can't be helped. The Wudang Sect, no, many Daoist sects have strived to preserve the true teachings of Daoism, but in the end, only martial arts have remained."
"…Third Elder?"
"I'm here too, you brat."
Turning around, I saw the Third Elder shaking his head while Ghost Shadow Thief stood beside him, this time with an actual staff instead of some stolen object.
"You two seem to be getting along well."
"Getting along? Hah! I still have plenty of grievances against this thief."
"This guy has so many grudges he won't be able to let them all go before he dies, so I told him to just forget about it."
"Hmph! I don't recall saying that."
These were two of the oldest people in the Wudang Sect, yet they bickered like children.
Well, at least they seemed to have made peace. That was a good thing.
Suppressing the urge to laugh, I asked, "Third Elder, what do you mean by saying that only martial arts remain in Daoist sects?"
"It's exactly as I said. Have you heard of the Mosan Sect?"
"I've heard of them. Weren't they a sect that specialized in talismanic magic?"
"Then do you know why they were wiped out?"
"…Because talismanic magic was weaker than martial arts?"
"No. It wasn't that the magic was weak—it was that there were no longer any practitioners skilled enough to use it."
For similar reasons, the Jinju Eon Clan also lost its mastery of corpse arts and was left with only martial techniques, barely maintaining its lineage as a martial family.
According to the Third Elder, there were once grandmasters in the Mosan Sect who could overturn the earth with a single talisman, summon rain, and conjure massive flames.
However, the number of such masters steadily declined, and eventually, there came a time when no one could be called a true grandmaster.
Thus, despite possessing extraordinary sorcery, the sect withered away, for there was no one left who could wield its techniques.
"There was even a time when the Mosan Sect's name was listed among the Nine Great Sects. Of course, this is merely a tale I heard from my master—I never witnessed that era myself. But the important thing is that this phenomenon wasn't unique to the Mosan Sect."
The Third Elder explained that the Mosan Sect was merely the last to survive; before it, many other sects that had focused on mystical arts had declined and vanished into history.
In other words, there was once a time when talismanic arts and sorcery were the foundation of Daoist sects, more so than martial arts.
"This is precisely why the Quanzhen Sect was founded. Even though the divine arts of ancient Daoist sages had deteriorated into mere sorcery and formations, there were those who could not give up on the pursuit of immortality."
They turned their attention to Lü Dongbin, the last recorded immortal to ascend.
He had cultivated the Dao through a single sword, reaching the realm of the Sword Immortal.
Thus, the Quanzhen Sect abandoned the traditional Daoist arts that their predecessors had clung to—discarding spellcraft and incantations in favor of martial arts.
Of course, seeing as Lü Dongbin remains the last recorded immortal to this day, it seems they ultimately failed.
"This is also why most Daoist martial arts originate from the Quanzhen Sect. They were the first to attempt embedding the Dao into martial techniques, so it was only natural that their influence spread."
"What I find hard to believe is the idea that 'ascending to immortality' actually means becoming a true immortal. Until now, I had thought it was merely a poetic way of saying someone passed away peacefully."
"Haha. I won't deny that possibility. After all, this story goes so far back that even my master's master's master wouldn't have lived to see it. Whether it's true or not—no one in this era can say for certain. Perhaps that's why so many Daoist sects have grown closer to the secular world."
As he spoke, the Third Elder, Jeon Il-bi, gazed up at the sky with narrowed eyes.
"But still, I want to believe it's true. Otherwise, wouldn't a lifetime spent as a Daoist feel too empty and meaningless?"
Perhaps because he was one of the oldest surviving Daoists, his words carried a profound weight.
"Ah, I ended up rambling. This happens when you get old. Whenever I get the chance to talk to a younger person, I get carried away and start saying all sorts of unnecessary things."
Then, he turned to me.
"So, what were we talking about again?"
"We were discussing whether these ritual offerings actually have any real effect."
"Ah, right. Here's what I wanted to say: Perhaps in the past, they had a genuine effect, but in this era, their power may have faded. That said, that doesn't mean they are entirely meaningless."
"Why not?"
"Because they still bring comfort to those who seek them."
The elder shrugged playfully before adding,
"And more importantly, they're quite beneficial to the Wudang Sect's finances."
He was probably referring to the donations given by worshippers.
No matter how secularized they became, Daoists were still Daoists.
Like the noble families, they couldn't establish full-scale trading businesses, nor could they extort protection fees like the heretical sects.
Thus, the offering fees, disguised as donations, were crucial for their sustenance.
For a sect that prided itself as a sword-bearing order, Wudang still upheld these rituals—likely in no small part due to financial reasons.
Afterward, the Third Elder, claiming he was bored, led us on a tour of the inner quarters where the Wudang disciples lived and trained.
But my mind remained clouded by a single, persistent doubt.
If there had once been powerful sorcery in the distant past—if individuals had truly reached a state of ascension—
Then wouldn't reversing time also be within the realm of possibility?
Perhaps my regression wasn't a mere accident.
Perhaps someone had orchestrated it.
As I turned these unanswerable questions over in my mind, we wandered the sect's grounds for some time.
Eventually, we arrived at the training grounds.
"…Ah."
The moment I stepped inside, the complicated thoughts weighing on my mind cleared away.
No matter what the truth of my regression was—
In the end, the only thing I could do was wield my sword.
And before me stood warriors, one after another, wielding swords I had never seen before.