Chapter 11

After the subjugation party returned, the Baltas family widely announced this victory and held a banquet.

They distributed food and alcohol throughout the city and prepared a lavish feast within the castle for the knights to enjoy freely.

Turan thought this was excessively noisy and premature.

Though extremely unlikely, there might be other monsters blocking inter-city travel besides that monkey monster.

When he casually brought this up at the banquet, Izela burst out laughing, saying he worried too much.

"Really? Such creatures wouldn't appear two or three at a time. And honestly, it wouldn't matter even if they did."

The logic was that announcing the reopening of the blocked trade route came first, and if monster attacks occurred again, they could simply say "Oh, we didn't know" and send another subjugation party.

What about losing authority if a ruler makes mistakes or changes their words?

For magic lords, public support and trust were nice to have but ultimately dispensable.

Their rule over humans wasn't based on such invisible factors, but rather on overwhelming power that could burn any rebellion to ashes.

"What are the stars of this subjugation doing in such a secluded corner?"

While they were chatting, someone interrupted with meaningful words.

The Rug family head looked at Turan and Izela alternately with half-closed eyes.

"Oh father, don't even start. Our guest just worries too much."

Hearing Izela's words, Rug also laughed heartily and dismissed Turan's concerns as excessive.

He said creatures that strong only appear once or twice a year at most.

Come to think of it, it wasn't wrong.

Monsters typically appear more frequently in prosperous regions, but considering the continent as a whole, if creatures capable of instantly killing knights were roaming around in this relatively remote area, how could Keorn have traveled alone?

What about other ordinary travelers?

During their conversation, Izela excused herself to get some food and slipped away.

Left alone with Turan, Rug first offered his wine cup.

"Here, have a drink instead. As a host, it would be shameful not to offer a guest even one drink."

Orem's liquor was incomparably stronger than the beer he had drunk at the Murei inn.

The burning sensation in his throat and the intense aroma that stung his nose made Turan cough involuntarily.

"Haha! Acting like someone who's never had alcohol before!"

"I've never had such strong liquor before."

Fortunately, a noble's robust body wouldn't be affected by just a couple of strong drinks, so Turan could maintain his composure and be a proper drinking companion without getting drunk.

After about four drinks served by passing servants, Rug spoke with half-closed eyes.

"By the way, what do you think of Izela?"

A question similar in context to what Marvin had asked earlier that day.

Turan replied calmly without changing his expression.

"I think of her as the lady of the family I'm indebted to."

"No romantic interest then?"

"To be honest, no."

Rug slightly frowned at the almost rudely honest answer, but Turan didn't apologize.

He hadn't been particularly attracted to Izela to begin with, and after seeing her behavior during the subjugation, what little attraction he had felt had diminished further.

He judged it better to be clear-cut rather than leave room for misunderstanding out of consideration for the other's face.

As expected, instead of getting angry about his daughter being rejected, Rug heaved a deep sigh.

"Can't be helped, I was hoping you'd take a liking to my daughter."

"She'll find a better match."

"How many matches of your caliber do you think we can find in this remote region? I heard you didn't show any signs of strain while absorbing magic this time."

"Well, yes. Because I'm still quite lacking."

"I heard your magic level isn't much different from Izela's, so are you saying my daughter is lacking?"

Faced with this difficult question, Turan remained silent and looked at his counterpart.

Then, Rug suddenly spoke in what seemed like a lamenting tone.

"Well, you're not wrong. Though Izela's innate qualities weren't bad, she reached her growth limit much earlier than expected. It's not enough to maintain the Baltas family head position. At this rate, Gilon… that is, my nephew you haven't met, will have to be named the next head. If Izela were to unite with you, that wouldn't be necessary-"

Now he understood why Marvin had been happy to hear about his lack of interest in Izela.

If Turan were to marry Izela, it could become a major obstacle to his older brother becoming family head.

What he couldn't understand was Rug's attitude of freely sharing such intimate matters.

Surely a family head wouldn't get drunk enough to loose his tongue?

Shortly after, seeing the cold eyes measuring him up, Turan could guess why Rug had shared such complaints.

He hoped Turan's heart would waver after learning these circumstances.

Either guilt or responsibility for making someone lose their position as next family head by rejecting their persistent marriage proposals, or ambition to gain this city by marrying Izela.

He was calculating that either motivation might work.

"I trust the family head will make a wise decision."

Seemingly realizing from this response that Turan had seen through his intentions and was refusing, Rug heaved an even deeper sigh than before.

"So that's how it is. Well, I understand… Enjoy the banquet then. Just let me know before you leave the city."

Turan couldn't help but laugh when Rug blatantly asked when he would leave right after hearing his lack of interest in marriage.

Rather than anger at such obvious materialistic behavior, he found it amusing.

As Rug showed signs of leaving, Turan decided to ask something he'd been curious about.

Of course, not directly, but in a roundabout way.

"Ah, family head. There's something I'm curious about."

"What is it?"

Though Rug showed obvious signs of annoyance, Turan pretended not to notice and continued.

"While using the library, I wondered – don't you check if anyone steals books? They're all valuable items, regardless of whether people use them or not."

"Hmm? Don't you know? I thought you knew and that's why you only read in the library."

When Turan shook his head in incomprehension at these meaningful words, the family head put on a show-off expression.

He seemed to want the satisfaction of overwhelming with knowledge the Turan who had rejected his subtle proposal.

"The Sky Library was built during the old empire era, so if someone tries to take out books without permission, a tremendously loud warning sound rings out. Actually, not telling people this beforehand and watching them get embarrassed was one of my pleasures."

"How does one get permission?"

"Who knows! Detailed records about the library were already gone before our family took this city. Well, anyway, taking books out only triggers the warning sound, and functions like automatically organizing books still work normally…"

Turan's eyes sparkled as he listened.

What he had half-doubted until just now was confirmed by those final words.

* * *

The next day, Turan headed straight to the library after breakfast, just as he had done the day before yesterday.

"Welcome, noble one."

The knight who had become familiar with Turan's face let him in without even checking his entry permit.

Entering the first floor lobby, the middle-aged librarian sitting at the desk greeted Turan as always.

"Welcome, Lord Turan."

Turan burst into a hollow laugh as he realized how unobservant he had been about the librarian's greeting.

Thinking about it, the clues had been there from the start.

First, the title "Lord Turan."

No knight or commoner in this city called him that.

They only addressed him as "noble one."

Plus, there was how he had been watching from behind while Turan read.

Turan's reading pattern was to come in early after breakfast and only leave when it was time for dinner.

During all that time, the librarian never once went to the bathroom, ate, or even drank water – just kept watching Turan.

Though not impossible for a normal person, it was a strikingly unusual element.

But Turan had been so absorbed in his books that he hadn't noticed at all.

"How did you know my name?"

At Turan's question, the librarian's humble expression changed to that of a mischievous child.

"My, you noticed awfully late, you dull fellow. Didn't you even ask people outside about me?"

"I haven't really associated with many people in this city enough to have such conversations."

"Quite the loner, aren't you? Though I could tell from how you kept burying yourself in books."

Though the hierarchy of their conversation had suddenly reversed, it didn't feel awkward.

The librarian chuckled and casually threw the book he was reading back to where it belonged.

"I learned your name from your entry permit. My sight reaches to around this library."

"How should I address you, sir?"

"I am the Librarian. I never had a name to begin with, so just call me that."

"Understood, Elder Librarian."

"Your polite manner feels awkward. After ordering me around these past few days."

"I never ordered you around. Rather, you're the one doing that now."

"Young one trying not to lose even a single word!"

Though snorting, the librarian's face clearly showed he was enjoying this kind of banter.

Sitting across from the librarian, Turan asked once again about his identity.

"Are you a magician from the old empire?"

"I was never human to begin with. You could say I'm a kind of spirit. The library's spirit."

"A spirit…"

None of the books Turan had read covered such beings in detail.

He had only heard about forest fairies using spirit arts to handle life spirits, nature spirits, and death spirits in "World Travel Journal," but that was about it.

Knowing Turan's limited knowledge, the librarian immediately explained.

"When a soul dwells in something living, it's a life spirit; in something dead, a death spirit; in something neither living nor dead, a nature spirit. In other words, the library is my body. This form is just projected for convenience in conversing with users. Like a reflection in water, you could say."

Hearing this, Turan unconsciously poked the librarian's hand resting on the table.

Indeed, his finger passed through the hand and hit the desk as if nothing was there.

Seeing this, the librarian slightly frowned.

"Stop that, it's unpleasant."

"I apologize."

The librarian's expression softened again as Turan quickly withdrew his hand and apologized.

"You don't know how frustrating it is to be unable to directly exert force on intruders. If I could, I would have punished all those thieves trying to take books from the library…"

So that's why so many books had disappeared despite such a being existing – it seems he couldn't use force against people.

Probably only able to move books and clean inside the library.

Turan nodded and asked what he was curious about.

"The Baltas family head seemed unaware of your existence. In fact, perhaps everyone who's used this library."

"That's because there hasn't been anyone qualified to perceive me until now. It's been about three thousand years since I last conversed with someone, so even though you 'magicians' live quite long, it's been long enough that not even records remain… magicians, hah."

For some reason, the librarian burst into laughter as if he found the word 'magician' impossibly amusing.

Turan stared blankly at him at this incomprehensible response.

He had found someone to talk to after an unfathomable period of three thousand years, yet he calmly pretended to be a Baltas family servant and played tricks?

What if Turan had lost interest in books and never returned?

When asked this, the librarian snorted.

"Then that would have been the end of it. Unlike you all, three thousand years isn't such a distant time for me. In another few thousand years, someone else would probably come along."

Hearing this, Turan could truly feel how this spirit was a completely different being from humans.

Well, rocks and rivers don't find thousands of years tedious, do they?

Shaking his head, Turan asked again.

"About the qualification, what is it?"

"My creator made it so only those whose type completion is above a certain level can perceive me. And you had the highest completion among all magicians I've seen in the past three thousand years."

"Type…?"

"What you call bloodline."

High bloodline completion – what does that mean?

Along with his pondering, he recalled what Keorn had told him.

Magicians are descendants of gods, bloodline abilities are one of the characteristics possessed by their ancestors, the Frea divine tribe…

So, that spirit was saying Turan was the closest to divinity among all magicians he had seen in the past three thousand years.

Chapter 11: Walking Together (2)

One month. That was how long it took for Dam Ho to regain the ability to move under his own power. During that time, Dam Ho spent most of his days circulating his energy.

Each dawn, after consuming a Nourishing Essence Pill, he would cultivate the Heavy Heaven Heart Method, and before he knew it, the day would slip away.

As Sage Hyeon-so had promised, the Nourishing Essence Pills and the Heavy Heaven Heart Method produced a wondrous synergy. The viscous, sluggish energy of the Heavy Heaven Heart Method, which had been as sticky as a swamp, now surged like wildfire whenever he consumed a Nourishing Essence Pill.

Unable to move his body, Dam Ho delved deeper into the Heavy Heaven Heart Method. He probed with such persistence that parts of it he had never perceived before began to reveal themselves.

While Dam Ho was thus immersed in the Heavy Heaven Heart Method, Sage Hyeon-so ventured once more into Mount San-gong to gather the herbs needed for another batch of Nourishing Essence Pills.

When Sage Hyeon-so finally returned to his dwelling, he bore upon his back a bundle as large as a mountain. Without resting a moment, he immediately set to work refining more Nourishing Essence Pills.

At last, when Dam Ho could move once more, Sage Hyeon-so had completed several hundred Nourishing Essence Pills.

"How does your body feel?"

"I can move."

Though he said so, Dam Ho's condition was far from ideal. After lying still for so long, his entire body had stiffened utterly. Resting muscles that had hardened like stone to their former state became the most urgent task.

His left leg was especially problematic. The muscle he had painstakingly built through months of climbing the mountain had withered away to nothing. He would have to rebuild from scratch.

Yet Dam Ho never once succumbed to despair. He had lost much, but he had gained even more.

"Master."

"Ho-ya! As you know, the existing martial arts of the Mount Hua Sect are not suited to you. We must create new martial arts—martial arts tailored solely for you."

Dam Ho's eyes lit up.

This was something he already knew. Over the past five years, he had felt it keenly enough to the bone.

"First, we must perfect a footwork technique designed only for you. You have no need for flashy footwork. With that leg, not only could you never master such steps, but they would hinder your learning of other martial arts."

"I understand."

Dam Ho nodded readily. He had arrived at the same thought as Sage Hyeon-so.

"Footwork that is simple yet unchanging, yet optimally suited for you to unleash your martial arts. What kind of footwork would that be?"

Sage Hyeon-so bent down and began gathering the small stones scattered across the ground, arranging them upon a low platform.

The stones were piled like a miniature city wall.

"This is your enemy."

"…"

"Those who have perfected their own martial arts, achieving an iron fortress of invincibility. To face such an enemy, what must you do? What footwork must you deploy? Have you ever considered?"

"I must crush them with sheer force. For me, there is no other way."

"Correct. You must crush them with force. Then, have you considered how you might amplify that force?"

"By building my muscular strength…"

"Speed."

"What?"

"Speed multiplies force."

Sage Hyeon-so picked up a small twig from the ground and placed it upon the platform.

A city wall facing a twig.

With a flick of his finger, Sage Hyeon-so sent the twig flying. At great velocity, it struck the wall of stones and sent them tumbling down in a heap.

"A battering ram—a siege engine that shatters a wall in a single blow. Your footwork must be like this battering ram."

"A battering ram?"

"Yes! Like a battering ram, you must concentrate all your power upon a single point with terrifying speed. If you can achieve that, then simplicity alone can overwhelm complexity. This is the answer I have found."

"…"

Dam Ho could say nothing. It was as if a fog that had long clouded his mind was finally lifting.

A possibility he had never seen before began to take shape.

Sage Hyeon-so's voice resounded.

"A footwork that smashes through walls like a battering ram—I shall call it the Charging Step."

"Charging Step…"

"From this day forth, it is the footwork we shall create together."

Sage Hyeon-so's voice left a deep resonance in Dam Ho's chest.

***

The Charging Step.

They would forge a footwork like a battering ram charging at a city wall.

Once the objective was set, Sage Hyeon-so and Dam Ho threw themselves into their work with an almost frightening intensity. Sage Hyeon-so laid bare the knowledge he had harbored only in his mind until now.

"There is a renowned supreme technique in the martial world called the Blood Heaven Kick."

"Blood Heaven Kick?"

"A unique, peerless art of Woo Gyeong-pae, the Iron Blood Overlord, who roamed the martial world alone a hundred and twenty years ago. It was said that a single kick could paint the sky red with a spray of blood—a technique of fearsome power."

Woo Gyeong-pae had risen to the ranks of the Ten Great Masters of his era with the Blood Heaven Kick alone. Yet his cruel nature and his willingness to cause trouble regardless of circumstance made him an enemy of the martial world.

Hundreds of the era's greatest martial artists set out to slay him. But Woo Gyeong-pae shook off their pursuit and vanished without a trace.

He never again appeared in the world. Thus he became a legend, and now he was so forgotten that few even remembered the name Woo Gyeong-pae.

"The world believes Woo Gyeong-pae simply grew weary of the martial world and went into seclusion. But the truth is different. It was the Mount Hua Sect's greatest sword master, the Sword Immortal Sang Han-cheon, who finally took up the challenge."

Sang Han-cheon was likewise numbered among the Ten Great Masters, and with a sword he could claim the foremost position of his generation.

Sang Han-cheon and Woo Gyeong-pae fought for a day and a night. The battle raged as if heaven and earth might be overturned, and in the end, Sang Han-cheon prevailed by the slimmest of margins.

"Had Woo Gyeong-pae not exhausted his internal energy evading the pursuit of the martial world's masters, even Elder Sang Han-cheon could never have subdued him. That is how powerful Woo Gyeong-pae truly was."

After slaying Woo Gyeong-pae, Sang Han-cheon intended to burn the scripture containing the Blood Heaven Kick to ashes. Yet upon examining it, he found himself unable to do so.

"Though it had found an unworthy master in Woo Gyeong-pae and been misused, the Blood Heaven Kick itself was a truly brilliant martial art. And so Elder Sang Han-cheon had it memorized by the Scholar Taoists of the time. He could not keep it in open record."

Thus the Blood Heaven Kick was preserved through the oral transmission of Scholar Taoists, passing down to the present day.

"It is said that when the Shadowless Kick of Shaolin is brought to its ultimate refinement, one can suspend the body in midair and deliver no fewer than eighteen consecutive kicks. This is possible through exquisite distribution of internal energy and the perfection of linked technique. But the Blood Heaven Kick is different. It concerns itself neither with linked technique nor with the distribution of internal energy. Its sole aim is to obliterate the enemy in a single strike."

Dam Ho stared intently at Sage Hyeon-so.

In all their five years together, this was the first time he had seen Sage Hyeon-so speak with such passionate fervor.

"The Blood Heaven Kick requires no elaborate footwork. All it needs is a sturdy leg to serve as its pillar. As you study and exhaust the possibilities of the Blood Heaven Kick, the Charging Step will surely take shape."

"I understand."

Dam Ho nodded.

He trusted his Master. If Sage Hyeon-so spoke, there was certain to be a worthy reason behind it.

Sage Hyeon-so's face was flushed red. Yet he did not hesitate for a single moment in imparting the Blood Heaven Kick to Dam Ho.

Grandmaster Hyeon-cheon had instructed that Dam Ho must not be taught the martial arts of the Mount Hua Sect. But the Blood Heaven Kick was not a Mount Hua art. There was no reason to waver.

Once Dam Ho had heard all the forms and internal energy methods of the Blood Heaven Kick, he finally understood why Sage Hyeon-so had been so impassioned.

The Blood Heaven Kick demanded no precise or intricate movement. What it required were only the preparatory motions to maximize destructive power. Even with his imperfect leg, Dam Ho could fully execute it.

The problem was that the Blood Heaven Kick demanded tremendous leg strength, explosive lung capacity, and meticulous control of internal energy.

'Master.'

Dam Ho felt a surge of profound respect for Sage Hyeon-so well up within him.

This was not simply a matter of presenting a supreme art and telling him to learn it. It was a solution born of careful consideration of Dam Ho's physical condition, his years of effort, and the direction of his future growth.

It was plain to see how many days Sage Hyeon-so had spent wrestling with this problem, how many sleepless nights he had endured.

Thereafter, Sage Hyeon-so continued to pour forth his knowledge. Having heard everything, Dam Ho engaged him in vigorous debate.

The foundation of it all was the Charging Step that Sage Hyeon-so had first proposed.

To create a footwork like a battering ram, and to devise martial arts that would complement it—this became the two's paramount mission.

They held intense discussions day after night. Sleepless nights became the norm, and at times they went several days without a wink of sleep.

Creating new martial arts was no easy task even for grandmasters of a generation. For a Scholar Taoist who knew only theory and a young martial artist who possessed nothing but recklessness, it bordered on the impossible.

Yet the two possessed an advantage others did not. Neither knew the meaning of giving up. And they were tenacious beyond measure.

Neither Dam Ho nor Sage Hyeon-so held any significant standing within the Mount Hua Sect. No one cared what they did. Thanks to this, they could test and forge their martial arts with far greater freedom.

If Sage Hyeon-so laid out the theoretical framework, it fell to Dam Ho to verify it with his body.

Without the stable foundation of the Heavy Heaven Heart Method, they would never have dared attempt it.

Dam Ho ceased his climbing of Mount Hua. It might draw unwanted attention. Instead, he began training in a special manner.

Behind Sage Hyeon-so's dwelling lay a small clearing and a great boulder. The boulder was as massive as a grand hall.

Sage Hyeon-so drew a small circle upon the lower part of the boulder, at roughly Dam Ho's eye level.

Dam Ho watched in silence as Sage Hyeon-so worked.

Sage Hyeon-so then drew a straight line from the circled boulder to the clearing.

A straight line was etched into the ground, and Dam Ho was placed at its end.

"Starting today, this is your task."

"What must I do?"

"From here to that boulder, you will leap in a single step and strike the circle with your fist."

Dam Ho's brow creased slightly.

The distance from where he stood to the boulder was a full two zhang—roughly six meters.

Even for a healthy person, even for a trained martial artist, it was too great a distance to cross in a single leap.

Sage Hyeon-so pointed to the line drawn upon the ground.

"You must leap with your left foot, and you must never stray from this line."

"Master."

"I know it is near impossible with your leg. But you must do it."

At Sage Hyeon-so's words, Dam Ho nodded without another word.

His left leg was slightly bent and twisted. Because of this, he could not properly channel his strength, nor could he accurately gauge direction.

This training was not merely about strengthening his left leg.

Because his leg was twisted, Dam Ho's bodily balance was significantly skewed. If he could complete this training successfully, his sense of balance would develop to its peak.

"Begin."

"Yes!"

Without a word of complaint, Dam Ho followed Sage Hyeon-so's command.

He launched himself toward the boulder.

"Kuh!"

Dam Ho's face contorted.

Not only did his fist fail to reach the boulder, he could not even cover a third of the distance. Worse, he had deviated far to the left of the line Sage Hyeon-so had drawn.

That meant his body was tilting to the left.

Sage Hyeon-so's voice, sharp as a whip, rang out.

"Again!"

Dam Ho returned to his starting position without a word. Then he leapt toward the boulder once more.

"Hah! Hah!"

Dam Ho's breathing grew increasingly ragged.

He pushed off the earth, tumbled across the ground, and his body became caked in dirt. But his two eyes burned brighter than ever before.

“You b*st*rd! So you were hiding in that cave all along!”

Why had he only realized it now?

Mang-ryo hurriedly returned. The door he hadn’t properly closed was slightly ajar.

Mang-ryo grabbed the door and surveyed the room once more.

The room was still in disarray.

If Jin Ja-gang had planned to escape through the hole, there would have been no need to make such a mess. No matter how he thought about it, that hole was too narrow for escape.

So there was only one reason for the mess.

To create a hiding place.

One thing he had carelessly overlooked earlier was the bamboo basket lying in front of the door.

When he had seen it before, steel-scaled vipers were crawling out of it, so he hadn’t thought to look inside further. Moreover, the basket was right in front of the door when he opened it, making it too obvious to arouse suspicion.

He had been stupid. Such a resilient brat might well have hidden inside, even if it meant being bitten by steel-scaled vipers.

Mang-ryo glared at the basket. It was the only thing in the room he hadn’t checked.

“You little…”

Grinding his teeth, Mang-ryo raised his cane.

Both his leg and his eye were throbbing. His left eye was already so clouded he could barely see out of it.

Channeling his rage at the pain, Mang-ryo thrust the tip of his cane into the basket.

The cane pierced through the basket and crushed something soft inside.

Mang-ryo kicked the basket over.

A crushed steel-scaled viper rolled out, twisting its body.

But Jin Ja-gang wasn’t there.

Looking closely, he could see small drops of blood leading from the basket to the door. There were also traces of someone crawling.

If he had examined the scene more calmly, he wouldn’t have missed it. If he pursued now, he could probably catch up quickly.

But Mang-ryo couldn’t do that.

His outburst of anger had triggered the poison again. As his blood flow increased, the acupoints he had hastily pressed came undone, and the poison began to spread throughout his body.

A heavy pain shot through his eye and shook his head and spine. At this rate, even if he caught up with Jin Ja-gang and killed him, Mang-ryo would still suffer severe aftereffects from the poisoning.

For Mang-ryo, it would be all loss and no gain.

“Urgh… AAAAAH! You b*st*rd! Jin Ja-gang!”

Mang-ryo clutched his left eye and cried out in despair.

***

Read only at nineheavens.org

Translated by Nine Heavens!

https://discord.gg/XC9DTsTQ9Z

***

Originally, Jin Ja-gang had been anxiously hiding in the bamboo basket until Mang-ryo fled the room.

If Mang-ryo had searched the basket, Jin Ja-gang had planned to release the steel-scaled viper he was holding. But fortunately, Mang-ryo was so confused by the crude bamboo splinter trap that it didn’t come to that.

What Jin Ja-gang had applied to the bamboo splinter was none other than the poison that had dripped from his little finger.

As a result of constantly moving his hand to maintain his energy flow, some of the remaining twin-spotted paradise widow spider venom and the poison from other creatures that had bitten his hand had seeped out through the opened energy channels.

In a normal person, poison traveling through energy channels would have spread throughout the body and been absorbed, but Jin Ja-gang’s energy channels were completely hardened, leaving no way for the poison to spread elsewhere.

Because the opened channels were so thin, the amount of poison that seeped out was minimal, but it was still a mixture of the deadly twin-spotted paradise widow venom and numerous other toxins.

That alone was enough to threaten Mang-ryo’s life.

It was no wonder Mang-ryo had been so desperate.

So when Mang-ryo fled the room, fearing he might be bitten by other venomous creatures, Jin Ja-gang made his move too.

He had no choice but to risk being discovered. That was his only chance to move.

Jin Ja-gang crawled out of the basket and along the floor. With all his might, he made it through the open door. Fortunately, Mang-ryo was about ten zhang away, turned with his back to him, vomiting, and completely unaware of Jin Ja-gang.

He had thought this place must be somewhat remote since he had heard almost no human sounds during his captivity, and he was right. The buildings were spaced far apart. That made sense for a poison sect where distance between buildings would be necessary.

The Extreme Poison Sect’s buildings were uniquely arranged along a winding path that hugged the mountain, built facing outward toward the cliff. Mang-ryo’s hut was located somewhere in the upper section.

Obviously, he couldn’t go down the path. Jin Ja-gang went around to the back of the hut, opposite from Mang-ryo, and descended via the steep slope near the cliff.

He was in excruciating pain from being bitten by so many venomous creatures. Moreover, his elbows, knees, and entire body were scraped and raw from crawling.

Jin Ja-gang crawled while crying from the pain. If he had lost his mind, he might have thought only of escape, but thanks to Mang-ryo’s carefully prepared intelligence decoction, his mind remained perfectly clear.

While crawling, his body became a complete mess from being scraped by dirt, scratched by branches, and struck by rocks.

Yet despite all that crawling, he hadn’t actually traveled far from Mang-ryo’s hut. The distance was only about as far as an adult man could run in one breath.

‘What should I do?’

He had escaped but had nowhere to go. He couldn’t stop, knowing that if caught, he would suffer even worse.

Now he was almost out of strength to move.

Leaving the mountain was impossible; he would have to hide somewhere.

Jin Ja-gang groaned as he crawled along, then caught a familiar smell of rot and blood. Unconsciously, he turned and crawled in that direction.

Then he lost his grip and tumbled down a slope about one zhang high.

Roll, roll.

Thud!

Jin Ja-gang landed in a small pit. The pit was filled with the carcasses of various venomous creatures and garbage.

Looking up, he could see drainage pipes running along the slope. Coincidentally, one of the pipes extended from Mang-ryo’s hut.

This was a waste pit. It collected refuse not just from Mang-ryo’s hut but from other buildings as well.

‘Ugh…’

Jin Ja-gang had fled to make it look like he escaped through the waste pipe. And this is where it led.

Of all places!

Jin Ja-gang thought he should keep moving, but having sunk into the refuse, he lacked the strength to climb out.

After flailing his limbs a few times, he became too exhausted to move.

Strangely, being buried in the rotten garbage gave him an almost comfortable feeling.

His breathing gradually slowed, and his eyes wouldn’t open.

Is this the end?

His body wouldn’t move, but his mind remained clear, making the pain throughout his body still vivid. It was almost annoying.

Just then, he sensed someone’s presence.

A shadow fell over Jin Ja-gang.

It was Gwak-o.

* * *

Gwak-o had betrayed Hundred Flower Valley.

That was an undeniable fact.

However, even Gwak-o had never imagined the situation would escalate to the complete annihilation of Hundred Flower Valley.

Gwak-o, like other young martial artists, had simply wanted to travel the martial world under the name of Hundred Flower Valley.

He didn’t want to live a stifling life deep in the mountains like his master or the others in Hundred Flower Valley. His young blood was too hot for that.

So he had been enticed by the Extreme Poison Sect’s temptations.

“The old folks at Hundred Flower Valley are too old to make sound judgments. How long will you stay in hiding? Now it’s time for young people to step up and bring Hundred Flower Valley out. Honestly, our Extreme Poison Sect is joining the Martial Arts Alliance now, so what reason is there for Hundred Flower Valley not to do the same? Don’t you agree?”

The Martial Arts Alliance!

The representative body of the righteous martial arts world.

Becoming a member of the Martial Arts Alliance was like a dream for young men of Gwak-o’s age.

Gwak-o dreamed of calling other young heroes his brothers, discussing chivalry all night, and traveling the martial world with beautiful maidens, sharing joys and hardships.

“We’ll help you. You’ll become an elder of Hundred Flower Valley and lead it. The old folks might resist at first, but once they see how well you lead Hundred Flower Valley, they’ll have no choice but to acknowledge you…”

Deceived by Mang-ryo’s honeyed words, Gwak-o revealed the way through the defensive formation at the entrance of Hundred Flower Valley.

But what followed was nothing like the future Gwak-o had dreamed of.

The Extreme Poison Sect massacred many of Hundred Flower Valley’s people and plundered all its treasures.

All the medicinal herbs, secret elixirs, and even their formulas.

Having witnessed the Extreme Poison Sect’s cruelty, Gwak-o didn’t dare oppose them.

Terrified, he did as he was told.

And now, instead of being among young heroes and beautiful maidens, Gwak-o had been reduced to a slave, cleaning waste for the Extreme Poison Sect.

By the time he realized that no one wants to use a traitor, it was far too late.

He had no choice but to do as he was told this time too.

Every day was painful.

Especially since the Extreme Poison Sect’s waste was mostly poison-related garbage, cleaning it caused various ailments all over his body.

His whole body broke out in rashes, and his eyesight grew dim.

Not only was his body in pain, but his heart was too.

He had nightmares every night. Images of Hundred Flower Valley members dying after being deceived by Mang-ryo, and his own testimony that Hundred Flower Valley had self-destructed, haunted his dreams.

Testifying against Hundred Flower Valley in front of Jin Ja-gang at the Martial Arts Alliance trial was a truly shameful and cowardly act. He knew Jin Ja-gang would die after the trial ended.

Yet, out of fear for his own life, he had given false testimony, something he could never forgive himself for.

So imagine Gwak-o’s shock when Jin Ja-gang appeared before him again.

Frozen in surprise, Gwak-o only breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Jin Ja-gang wasn’t moving.

Then he belated retched.

“Urgh!”

Jin Ja-gang, buried in filth, was a truly horrific sight.

He was emaciated to the point of being almost skeletal, naked without clothes, revealing mottled black and red spots all over. One leg was broken and twisted oddly, and his face was especially swollen with necrotic skin, making him almost unrecognizable.

His limbs were swollen in various places like lumps, covered with scabs from bites of various venomous creatures, and every exposed part of his body—elbows, chest—was full of scrapes and tears.

Wiping his mouth with a bitter expression, Gwak-o muttered:

“So you died like this too.”

He had seen many corpses like Jin Ja-gang’s recently. But among them, Jin Ja-gang’s appearance was by far the most horrific.

Gwak-o recalled Jin Ja-gang’s words at the Yunnan Branch of the Martial Arts Alliance months ago, saying they would meet again.

“In the end… we did meet again, just as you said.”

Gwak-o looked up. He could see the experimental hut.

Having heard that Mang-ryo was keeping Jin Ja-gang, it was clear that brutal experiments had been conducted there. And when Jin Ja-gang became useless in death, they had disposed of him.

“It must have been painful, but maybe you’re the lucky one for dying quickly. Otherwise, you might have ended up like me, doing this kind of work for the rest of your life.”

After staring at Jin Ja-gang for a while, Gwak-o picked up his shovel.

As usual, he scooped the waste into a cart. After roughly loading the waste, he dragged Jin Ja-gang’s body onto it.

Then he pulled the cart. He cautiously pulled it down a narrow path.

Ahead, he heard commotion and loud noises.

Gwak-o stopped the cart and moved aside. A group of warriors ran past Gwak-o and the cart.

“Where is he?”

“Run faster!”

“If we’re late, we’ll be punished!”

The warriors saw the pile of waste and the corpse in the cart but merely wrinkled their noses and ran past without a word. Waste and corpses were a common sight.

Gwak-o waited until the warriors had passed, then started pulling the cart again.

Whatever was happening, it was probably something that had nothing to do with him.

As he pulled the cart, a sound that was neither crying nor laughing escaped Gwak-o’s lips.

“Heuuu…”

With empty eyes, Gwak-o muttered:

“You’re dead anyway so you can’t hear me, but you know what? I really wanted our Hundred Flower Valley to prosper. I thought if I became an elder and led Hundred Flower Valley out into the martial world, something great would happen.”

Rattle, rattle.

“But you know what?”