Chapter 13

Dark elves were one of the non-human races that enslaved humanity until ancient times, before the Frea divine tribe descended.

Among them, dark elves, characterized by dark purple skin and silver hair, specialized in necromancy – controlling death spirits that arise from dead magicians or monsters.

As expected, pale green light emerged from the two dark elves' hands.

[■□■□■□-]

Along with an eerie growl echoing through the quiet forest, five or six death spirits appeared and surrounded the red horse and its master.

Wolf, lynx, buffalo…

Though the red horse roared fiercely and pawed the ground to threaten its enemies, it was clearly outnumbered.

Turan hid behind a tree and fell into contemplation.

'Should I help?'

Following Keorn's teachings, he should naturally help the human side, but he was slightly concerned about not knowing how this fight started.

If that fallen man had attacked the dark elves first, helping him might actually be wrong.

Books described dark elves and other non-human races as monsters who all enjoyed enslaving and eating humans, but at least until he confirmed clear evidence of their evil-

"Whose hand is that? Give me one too."

"Eat your own. You must have saved some."

The male dark elf munching on what were clearly human fingers.

Seeing this confirmed that the information about dark elves enjoying cannibalism wasn't prejudice but fact.

Turan switched from mere concealment to complete stealth, approached about twenty paces closer, and while preparing an almond-shaped stone, chanted familiar spells.

"Harden, accelerate, pierce – target the head."

Though such spell chanting wasn't very helpful now that his magic proficiency had increased, it was still slightly better than not doing it.

As the stone was released from the spinning sling, Turan exerted force to split the 'air' blocking the front, making the stone even faster.

"All the men I killed had too much hair-"

While the female dark elf was speaking jokingly, with a sharp cracking sound, her companion's head disappeared.

As if an invisible hand had instantly swept away everything above the neck.

Half of the death spirits targeting the red horse, those controlled by the male dark elf, collapsed where they stood.

"Huh? Kel?"

The female dark elf wore a blank expression as if not understanding the situation momentarily, but gathered the death spirits around herself much faster than Turan had anticipated.

Thanks to this, his second stone was deflected by the mountain goat death spirit surrounding her body.

"Tch."

"Who dares! Show yourself!"

The dark elf screamed and immediately sent the buffalo death spirit to tear up the ground where the stone had come from, but naturally, Turan had already left that position.

Seemingly realizing her opponent was using stealth, she summoned another death spirit.

"Let's see if you can hide from this!"

This time's death spirit was a small fox about the same size as its kind.

As soon as it appeared, it began emitting bright light in all directions, instantly making the somewhat dim forest brighter than an open field at noon.

"Tsk."

Just as it's difficult to light a fire underwater, stealth's effectiveness drastically decreases in bright places.

He had to either maintain stealth while enduring massive magic consumption or release it.

Or he could run away, but then the red horse and its master would be in danger again.

As Turan clicked his tongue and released his stealth, the dark elf growled at him.

"You! Devil! How dare you kill Kel!"

She immediately ordered the wolf and buffalo death spirits to attack without giving him time to respond.

In response, Turan created sparks by strongly rubbing his hands together, like striking flint.

Friction creates heat, and heat causes ignition.

Just vaguely understanding this principle and inducing it made the flame in his hands much more intense than before.

The fireball spun rapidly through the air gaining centrifugal force before precisely striking the approaching wolf's head.

[■■■■-!]

The wolf death spirit screamed and collapsed from the fireball that struck at nearly imperceptible speed.

The problem was the giant buffalo charging from the opposite direction.

The distance was too short to attempt another flame throw, and without confidence in taking down something that size in one hit, Turan immediately rolled to avoid its charge trajectory.

Though somewhat ungraceful, he succeeded in dodging.

"This…!"

Perhaps disliking this sight, the female dark elf made another gesture to summon a deer death spirit and sent it charging at Turan.

It seemed her limit was controlling four at once.

'Good thing I took one out early.'

If he had to face eight or more at once, running away would have been the only option.

While dodging another buffalo charge and raising a second fireball to burn the deer, suddenly a burning pain shot through his leg.

"Ugh!?"

Looking down, the fox that had been emitting bright light earlier had somehow turned off its light and was silently biting his leg.

He thought it was only brought out for illumination to prevent stealth, but who knew it could attack too.

Though he managed to quickly kick away the fox's neck with his other foot, it was impossible to also dodge the buffalo's charge that took advantage of that opening.

Turan was rammed and flew dozens of meters through the air before crashing into a nearby tree.

"Kuh…"

The impact was enough to briefly lose consciousness.

Unable to breathe as if his internal organs had been pushed up, Turan couldn't even scream and just lay there gasping.

Seeing this, the dark elf smiled with satisfaction.

"Serves you right! How dare you kill my Kel, I'll make you beg for death-kyaa!"

[Neee-hihihing!]

The one who suddenly attacked the proud dark elf was none other than the red horse.

It had been quietly observing their fight and finally recognized Turan as an ally and joined in.

Thanks to wearing the mountain goat death spirit, she didn't die from one hit, but the dark elf's appearance quickly became a mess as she was trampled mercilessly by hooves while pinned down.

"Keh, ugh, help, quickly!"

Following their master's order, the buffalo and fox that were about to finish Turan, along with the mountain goat protecting her body, all pounced on the red horse, starting a three-against-one melee.

The dark elf woman who barely escaped her position panted while fixing her disheveled appearance.

"How dare you, such humiliation, I'll kill you…"

After this brief anger, the dark elf realized Turan, who had been sent flying by the buffalo earlier, was now nowhere to be seen.

Did he run away? Or use stealth?

'I need to get the mountain goat back quickly… no, but then the balance of that fight would break?'

In this dilemma, her judgment clouded, and with a slightly smaller cracking sound than before, her consciousness faded.

Dark elves, like humans, couldn't think once everything above their eyebrows disappeared.

"Whew…"

The final stone throw, using up both magic and physical strength to their limits.

After confirming it had crushed the opponent's head, Turan collapsed where he stood.

The ground seemed to shake and sway his body so much he couldn't even think of getting up.

'I'm really dying here.'

Had he ever pushed his body and mind this hard in his life?

While looking up at the pale yellow sky, suddenly a red shadow heavily covered it.

[Hihihing.]

The red horse approached Turan and nuzzled its muzzle against his chest.

Though not certain, it felt like it was saying "well done" in encouragement.

Smiling slightly while stroking its nose bridge, Turan rested for about thirty minutes to recover some strength before getting up.

No matter how close to death he felt, having won the fight, he had to collect the spoils.

The three death spirits controlled by the male dark elf, and the five controlled by the female dark elf.

* * *

"Ugh…"

In the dim forest, Asiz Berk groaned with a headache as he opened his eyes.

Perhaps due to being knocked unconscious after getting hit in the head, his memories were all jumbled and confused.

The sudden dark elf attack, the fight, escape, his vassals sacrificing themselves one by one for him…

"Damik!"

Calling out the name of his butler who had served him until the end, Asiz quickly raised his upper body.

The first thing he saw was a campfire burning over neatly arranged firewood.

Across from it sat a person wearing a reddish-brown cloak.

He was a handsome man with gray hair tied in a ponytail, looking two or three years younger than himself by commoner standards.

"You're awake."

"Who are you?"

"I saw you being attacked by dark elves and saved you."

Hearing this and looking around, Asiz realized this wasn't the forest he last remembered.

While briefly confused about what had happened, a familiar presence enveloped him.

His beloved horse since childhood, Tilly, carefully rested its leg on his shoulder.

"Tilly…"

"It's a good horse. Smart enough to understand protecting its master and needing to move locations for safety."

Confirming Tilly was safe, Asiz finally became certain the other person had saved him.

If he were suspicious, his beloved horse wouldn't have allowed such close approach.

"Thank you for saving me. I am Asiz of the Berk family."

"I'm Turan."

Though he didn't reveal his family name, Asiz had no doubt the other was nobility.

The dark elf necromancers pursuing him weren't beings that mere knights could handle.

That terrifying sight of them controlling numerous death spirits…

"Was there a particular reason for your conflict with the dark elves?"

"Reason… no, there wasn't. I was just on pilgrimage with my vassals when we were suddenly ambushed. I'd heard non-humans were fierce, but never imagined to this extent."

After answering thus, Asiz suddenly remembered something that made his chest tight and he clenched his teeth.

The six knights and ten servants who had followed him, especially butler Damik who had practically raised him – the fact that they were all dead suddenly hit him again.

Though he tried to hold back in front of a stranger, he couldn't stop his vision from blurring.

While Asiz sobbed, forgetting noble dignity, Turan considerately closed his eyes and looked at the campfire.

Actually, he was too exhausted to offer comfort.

His body, rammed by the buffalo death spirit, was aching and creaking all over.

The only consolation was the massive amount of magic power he felt inside.

Power gained from consuming eight death spirits, at least double what he had before the fight…

Considering he hadn't grown much since catching the monkey monster, only catching small fry along the road, this was truly great luck.

Though he nearly died for real in the process.

After a while, Asiz seemed to have gathered his emotions somewhat and apologized while rubbing his reddened eyes.

"I apologize for my rudeness. The people I lost this time were very precious to me…"

"Were they family?"

"They were knights and servants who came on pilgrimage with me. They practically raised me since I was young."

Hearing this, Turan internally gave Asiz high marks.

How noble his attitude compared to the Baltas family nobles who treated knights like doormats.

But that aside, there was information he needed to collect first.

"How many dark elves attacked you? I killed two."

"That should be all of them."

Even after getting this confirmation, Turan cast another detection spell around the area just in case.

Fortunately, there were no dark elves within several kilometers, so he could breathe easy for now.

Then, Asiz deeply bowed his head to Turan and asked.

"Lord Turan, do you have any urgent business?"

"I too am on pilgrimage."

Hearing Turan's words, Asiz's eyes widened in surprise.

"On pilgrimage alone with such power… are you perhaps from a great family? But why alone?"

"I'd rather not say."

It seemed Asiz was greatly exaggerating Turan's strength.

In reality, he had only managed to ambush and deal with one, then struggled against the other before winning with the red horse's help, but Asiz seemed to think he had overwhelmed both alone.

Turan released his aura toward the other to correct this misunderstanding.

Asiz flinched but responded by releasing his own aura, and his power was actually stronger than Turan's before fighting the necromancers.

About two-thirds of his current strength.

'…surprisingly strong?'

Thinking he might have been able to fight with that red horse's help, Turan then remembered that magic power doesn't determine everything in battle.

Especially since he seemed clearly weak-hearted and unsuited for combat.

While Turan was making these assessments, Asiz was internally shocked while guessing at the other's identity.

Though his magic power was quite strong, it was definitely not enough to face those two necromancers.

This meant either exceptionally superior magic skill and combat sense, or being born with a powerful bloodline.

Moreover, saying he was still on pilgrimage meant he hadn't reached his growth limit, which would make him a welcome talent in any great family.

Though unclear why such a person would wander around without even one subordinate…

"If you don't have a set destination, would it be alright to invite you to our Berk family? We'll repay you for saving my life and accompanying me safely back to the family."

"Repay how?"

He didn't know of any Berk family among the families he knew of.

They seemed quite wealthy, keeping such a monster and even bringing it on travels…

"Our Berk family are vassals of the great Arabion family in the north, with an enchanter bloodline that has created magical devices for generations."

Thus Asiz proudly declared they could more than repay the life debt owed to Turan.

Chapter 13: Sometimes Unexpected Guests Arrive (1)

Dam Ho opened his closed eyes. The fragrant scent of plum blossoms drifted on the breeze, but he did not even notice it.

His entire mind was focused upon the massive boulder before him. The world had fallen away, and only the small circle painted on the stone remained.

"Ha!"

Dam Ho steadied his breath for a moment. Then the heavy energy coiled in his dantian surged through his meridians and rushed throughout his entire body.

Dam Ho's twisted left leg dug deep into the ground. The moment his calf muscle bulged slightly, he launched himself off the earth.

Boom!

Like an arrow loosed from its bow, Dam Ho's form shot forward in a single, straight line.

It was the Charging Step—a footwork that charged in a straight line like a battering ram smashing through a gate.

The massive boulder seemed to shrink the distance, appearing before him in an instant. Dam Ho's fist lashed out toward it like a whip.

Fortress Breaking Fist.

A punch created alongside the Charging Step. A single blow to shatter a city wall.

Thud!

With a dull impact, Dam Ho's fist sank into the stone up to his wrist. Fragments of rock, broken like tofu, crumbled and fell away.

Dam Ho withdrew his fist from the boulder.

The fist, battered and covered in scars and calluses, held within it a full year of effort and bitter tears.

"At last…"

A thousand emotions crossed Dam Ho's face.

This was the moment when a year of toil and tears bore fruit.

Then a familiar voice reached his ears.

"You have worked hard."

"Master."

It was Sage Hyeon-so. Upon his face, too, there shimmered a look of deep emotion, much like Dam Ho's own.

Sage Hyeon-so had watched Dam Ho's efforts throughout the past year. He therefore knew better than anyone how much blood and sweat Dam Ho had poured into this.

To others, it might have seemed like a mere three zhang. But for Dam Ho, that distance was as near-impossible to cross as the vast breadth of the great Yangtze River cutting through the Central Plains.

Day after day, he had stumbled and tumbled, practicing the Charging Step. Dam Ho's left leg had now been trained sufficiently to endure the Charging Step, and his fist had grown hard enough to pierce stone.

Sage Hyeon-so clapped him on the shoulder.

"But do not grow complacent. You have only just reached the same starting line as everyone else."

"I know. That is enough."

Dam Ho had clawed his way up from the very bottom, clinging stubbornly just to stand where others already stood. This was enough.

Dam Ho's resolve had grown fiercer, his patience more tenacious.

There was still much time ahead, and he was prepared to sprint at full speed throughout it.

'I will never again be crushed so helplessly.'

Dam Ho clenched his teeth. Killing intent flickered unbidden in his eyes.

Sage Hyeon-so sighed inwardly.

'Ho's killing intent grows stronger with time.'

He wondered if he was creating a monster.

Yet Sage Hyeon-so quickly shook the thought away. Dam Ho was his only disciple. This was what he had done for that disciple.

To regret it now would be to deny his own choices and efforts entirely. At least in matters concerning his disciple, he did not wish to have regrets.

In the four seasons that had passed, not a single soul had come to visit. Not the Elders, nor even the First Generation Disciples.

It would have been understandable if they had come out of curiosity about Dam Ho's injuries, yet not one had set foot here. Of course, each had their own reasons, but Sage Hyeon-so had been wounded by it.

'Dam Ho is not so worthless as to be treated as though he does not exist. This child will surely become the treasure of the Mount Hua Sect.'

Sage Hyeon-so was certain of it.

The blood and sweat Dam Ho had shed were no falsehood. Having watched from the closest vantage, Sage Hyeon-so knew this better than anyone.

Sage Hyeon-so's gaze turned toward Cloud Peak, where the True Martial Palace stood. It was the residence of Grandmaster Hyeon-geom, Palace Master of the True Martial Palace.

Grandmaster Hyeon-geom had recently entered seclusion once more. This time, he had not gone in alone. He had entered closed-door training with a newly taken disciple.

The Taoist name of his new disciple was Myeong-gyeong—an outer disciple, of all things.

Grandmaster Hyeon-geom had not found a suitable talent among the First or Second Generation Disciples. In the end, he had selected a promising outer disciple training at the main mountain and accepted him as his disciple.

Few within the Mount Hua Sect knew the details of Myeong-gyeong's background. He had been that obscure a figure.

No one knew what Grandmaster Hyeon-geom had seen in Myeong-gyeong to take him as a disciple. But it was only natural that expectations now rested upon Myeong-gyeong, who had become Grandmaster Hyeon-geom's student.

There was no telling how long the closed-door training would last. Grandmaster Hyeon-geom had declared that he would not emerge until Myeong-gyeong achieved satisfactory progress.

'Brother Hyeon-geom, I pray that the Myeong-gyeong you have taken in is a talent who can restore Mount Hua to its former glory.'

At first, he had felt anger toward Myeong-gyeong's very existence. Simply because he had become Grandmaster Hyeon-geom's disciple. But as time passed, that anger had largely faded.

Though he bore resentment toward Grandmaster Hyeon-geom, there was no reason to resent Myeong-gyeong as well. He only hoped Myeong-gyeong would do well and become a sturdy umbrella for the Mount Hua Sect.

Sage Hyeon-so looked at Dam Ho and smiled.

"You have endured much, practicing the Charging Step in this cramped space for so long. Let us get some fresh air for a change. The plum blossoms are in bloom all over Mount Hua, and they are a lovely sight."

"Yes, Master."

Dam Ho bowed respectfully.

Sage Hyeon-so took the first step, and Dam Ho followed behind him.

So consumed had he been with training that he had not noticed, but plum blossoms were blooming throughout Mount Hua. Amid the sharp, craggy ridges, the plum blossoms were a sight of exquisite beauty.

Not long ago, Mount Hua had been buried under snow. All living things had held their breath, desperate to hide themselves away. But with spring's return, they revealed themselves once more, scattering their presence across the world.

Sage Hyeon-so murmured, moved by what he saw.

"The space between heaven and earth is like a bellows—empty, yet without end, and the more it moves, the more it yields. This is the principle of all things. Is there truly need to seek the Dao within scriptures?"

Sage Hyeon-so stood frozen, gazing at Mount Hua blanketed in plum blossoms. Dam Ho watched his Master in silence.

A breeze swept through, scattering the plum petals.

***

Dam Ho drew the book from inside his robe. It was the volume Sage Hyeon-so had given him. He had handled it so often that its yellowed cover was already frayed and tattered.

Opening the book, he saw the words they had organized thus far. Upon the foundation his Master had laid, Dam Ho's own insights were added.

'I am still far from done.'

He had only just managed to execute the Charging Step and the Fortress Breaking Fist. To achieve their true power as he had originally envisioned, he was still a long way off.

The Blood Heaven Kick remained distant, and the other techniques existed only in outline—not yet viable for actual use.

A study with no name, no telling when it might be completed.

Dam Ho recorded his insights of the day upon the worn pages of the book and tucked it back inside his robe.

The sunlight was pleasant. Dam Ho lay upon the platform and gazed up at the sky.

Drifting clouds. He watched them drift in idle silence.

Sage Hyeon-so, who had seemed to receive some manner of revelation during his walk earlier that day, had not emerged from his room.

Dam Ho did not disturb him. Instinctively, he sensed that this was a moment of great importance for Sage Hyeon-so.

A martial artist attained higher achievement through relentless refinement; a Taoist elevated his power through enlightenment. Dam Ho surmised that Sage Hyeon-so was undergoing just such a process.

While Dam Ho waited for Sage Hyeon-so to open the door of his own accord, he suddenly detected movement from beyond the thicket.

Dam Ho removed his arm from behind his head and rose quickly from the platform. A sharp light flickered in his eyes as he looked toward the thicket.

At that moment, someone emerged from the brush.

It was a young Taoist who appeared to be no older than fourteen or fifteen. Dam Ho recalled his name.

"You are?"

It was Won-yul, a Second Generation Disciple.

"M-Martial Uncle, Won-yul greets you."

Won-yul offered a reluctant fist-and-palm salute to Dam Ho. There was not a trace of respect upon his face.

"What do you want?"

"The Grandmaster has ordered me to bring Martial Uncle to him immediately."

Dam Ho's eyebrow twitched.

For the past year, the Grandmaster had not sent so much as a word. Now, for him to suddenly summon the Master—something was amiss.

"Wait."

"But the Grandmaster ordered me to bring you at once."

"I said wait."

"Martial Uncle! The Grandmaster—"

"I told you to wait."

Dam Ho's voice sank low.

In that instant, Won-yul felt his heart tremble violently and recoiled in shock.

'What?'

Though he was a Second Generation Disciple, he was a martial artist nonetheless. He had trained hard enough to remain steady under most circumstances. Yet to be shaken by a single word from another was something that should have been impossible.

Won-yul scowled at Dam Ho, but when their eyes met, he instinctively turned his head away.

Dam Ho's lowered gaze was inexplicably oppressive. He could not bring himself to face it.

Won-yul pressed his lips shut and stared at the ground. It was humiliating, but there was nothing he could do.

Time passed. His heart grew impatient, yet Won-yul could not easily open his mouth. He had already been dominated by Dam Ho's presence.

A question suddenly arose in his mind.

'Come to think of it—wasn't Martial Uncle supposed to be practically crippled?'

The First Generation Disciples had tried to hush up what had happened at the True Martial Palace, but they could not silence every witness. In the end, every disciple in the Mount Hua Sect had learned that Dam Ho had been crippled.

Won-yul knew this as well. Yet there was nothing about Dam Ho now that suggested any such disability.

"M-Martial Uncle?"

As Mustering his courage, Won-yul was about to pose a question—

"Is someone outside?"

Sage Hyeon-so opened the door and stepped out.

In that brief time, his gaze had deepened further. Dam Ho noticed the change at once.

"Second Generation Disciple Won-yul greets Martial Uncle."

"What brings you here?"

"The Grandmaster has asked that Martial Uncle be brought to him."

"The Grandmaster?"

A furrow formed between Sage Hyeon-so's brows.

"What business does the Grandmaster have with me?"

"I do not know the reason. I was only told to escort you."

"Hmm!"

Though puzzled, he did not hesitate.

It was not just anyone—it was the Grandmaster of the Mount Hua Sect who was summoning him. As a disciple of the Mount Hua Sect, he could not refuse the Grandmaster's command.

"I will go now."

"I will escort you."

Dam Ho approached Sage Hyeon-so. Sage Hyeon-so nodded silently.

The two followed Won-yul and left the dwelling.

It was his first outing in nearly a year. Though Sage Hyeon-so had spent his entire life on Mount Hua, today the surrounding scenery felt strangely unfamiliar.

They passed along the Dragon's Spine—the Soaring Dragon Ridge—and arrived at Five Cloud Peak. It was his first visit in five years, and it seemed unchanged. Yet as Sage Hyeon-so surveyed his surroundings, his heart was not at ease.

'Amitabha! The world has not changed. Only my heart has.'

Sage Hyeon-so let out a soft sigh.

As Lotus Peak drew near, the Cloud Mist Palace came into view. And standing before it was someone.

Dam Ho's expression stiffened slightly.

"Senior Brother?"

"Junior Brother Cheong-gyeong?"

The person who looked at Dam Ho in surprise was someone Dam Ho knew well.

Terrified, Gwak-o finally told the truth.

“I knew the corpse was, was Jin Ja-gang! But I really did throw him away. Usually all corpses are disposed of there, so I was just going to throw him away as usual.”

“But he was still alive, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, yes, that’s right! I thought he was a corpse, but then he spoke, and I was so shocked that I just threw him off the cliff! It’s the truth!”

Mang-ryo’s eyes flashed.

Without hesitation, Mang-ryo shoved the burning piece of charcoal into Gwak-o’s eye.

Sizzzzle!

The smell of burning flesh and smoke rose horrifically.

“AAAAARGH!”

Mang-ryo pushed Gwak-o away and stood up, leaning on his cane.

“You threw him away because he was alive? What kind of madman would believe that? Do you think I’m a fool?”

“AAAAAH! AAAAARGH! It’s the truth! It’s the truth!”

Gwak-o screamed, rolling on the floor.

“If you’re lying, I’ll rip out that damned tongue of yours first!”

Mang-ryo kicked Gwak-o in the waist. Gwak-o collapsed.

“Uuugh… uuuuugh.”

The volume decreased, but the screaming didn’t stop.

Mang-ryo put on his outer garment and got ready.

“Let’s go! Until I see with my own eyes, that b*st*rd isn’t dead even if he’s dead!”

His remaining eye was filled with malicious intent.

***

Read only at nineheavens.org

Translated by Nine Heavens!

https://discord.gg/XC9DTsTQ9Z

***

It was past midnight, nearly reaching the hour of the Tiger (3-5 AM). Numerous torches gathered at the cliff above Mixed Spring Ground.

Thirty warriors from the Extreme Poison Sect and several elder-level masters had been mobilized.

All of them had cloth covering their mouths, but even so, the sulfur smoke was so toxic that they hesitated to get too close.

Mang-ryo dragged Gwak-o to the edge of the cliff.

“Is this the place?”

Gwak-o, with half his face wrapped in cloth, coughed and then answered tearfully.

“Yes, this is it.”

Sa Heung-sam, known as “Hidden Dragon Bell,” who led the Extreme Poison Sect’s secret assassination organization, looked down the cliff while stroking his beard.

“Tsk, tsk. This poisonous smoke is quite intense. The regular warriors we brought along won’t be able to withstand it down there.”

Mang-ryo, driven by rage, said:

“Then at least those who can go down should go down!”

The other masters frowned. If the regular warriors couldn’t go down, it meant they themselves would have to conduct the search.

“Elder Mang, what’s all this commotion in the middle of the night for just one child?”

“Whoever that child is, he couldn’t possibly survive down there.”

Mang-ryo gritted his teeth.

“You don’t know what kind of person he is. He will definitely be alive.”

Miao Weng, known as “Bloody Hand,” one of the masters of the Extreme Poison Sect, said:

“Besides, isn’t this the time when the ground melts and all debris gets washed away? How could we possibly find him?”

Other masters joined in.

“What if he has already sunk?”

Mang-ryo grunted and raised his voice.

“Go down there and search before saying anything! Find any trace of him, anything at all!”

The masters of the Extreme Poison Sect all had dissatisfied expressions. They were clearly annoyed.

But they couldn’t ignore Mang-ryo. Though his status had diminished compared to before, he was still one of the power holders leading the Extreme Poison Sect. He had been at the forefront of the sect’s expansion until very recently. That contribution couldn’t be easily disregarded.

“Let’s go then.”

The Extreme Poison Sect masters, seemingly resigned, each took two long poles and jumped down the cliff. Though it was dark and the slope was slippery, they were skilled enough to handle it.

Mang-ryo, who had depleted most of his internal energy and was weakened by poisoning, couldn’t withstand the toxic fumes of Mixed Spring Ground and stayed at the cliff.

As if wanting to vent the frustration of not being able to go down himself, he glared at the still-suffering Gwak-o with his fierce single eye, then continued to focus intently on the area below the cliff.

* * *

Jin Ja-gang continued to sink.

The ground had become even softer now. Only his face remained above ground; most of his body was buried, and the buried parts were unbearably hot.

Jin Ja-gang’s teeth chattered in fear. If his face became buried too, not even someone like Jin Ja-gang could survive.

‘Ugh.’

Having been slowly sinking for quite some time, the terror had reached its peak.

But Jin Ja-gang felt something strange. Since earlier, he felt as if the ground was moving.

No, it wasn’t just a feeling. Jin Ja-gang’s body was being carried away faster and faster.

The ground beneath the surface was much hotter, already in a liquid state and flowing. The surface that encased Jin Ja-gang was still solid, floating and flowing on top of it.

He saw a protruding rock nearby. He wanted to move toward it, but he couldn’t extract his body to move.

Jin Ja-gang was carried on a chunk of sulfur, floating like driftwood on a stream. Before long, he had been carried quite far from his original location.

Now the chunk in which Jin Ja-gang was buried was also gradually melting into liquid.

Suddenly, the speed increased.

The flow had merged with sulfur water from elsewhere and was now moving faster.

Jin Ja-gang forcibly turned his head to look at his feet. Through the darkness and hot steam obscuring his vision, a beam of moonlight happened to shine through.

Thanks to this, Jin Ja-gang could witness the marvelous scene unfolding at his feet.

There was a clear hot spring, sparkling green like jewels. It was a small hot spring, just large enough for about twenty people.

The hot spring was collected in a low-lying area, and from all sides, yellowish sulfur water and chunks of sulfur carried by the water poured into its edges. Tremendous amounts of steam rose up.

For a moment, Jin Ja-gang was captivated by the colorful beauty he had never seen before. The yellowish sulfur water was bringing all sorts of debris, including the carcasses of dead animals.

Jin Ja-gang absently looked at an animal carcass. It fell into the spring with a splash, floated briefly, and then slowly sank.

‘Ugh!’

The sight seemed like a preview of his own fate, sending chills down Jin Ja-gang’s spine.

‘I can’t die like this.’

Though the hot spring was small, its depth was unknown. It was obvious what would happen if he were sucked into it.

Whether dying buried in the ground or drowning in water, it was all the same. Jin Ja-gang struggled with all his might to escape, but there was nothing to grab onto on the slippery surface.

Soon he felt a cool sensation on his toes as they hung in the air.

Before Jin Ja-gang could react, he slid from the edge and fell into the hot spring.

Splash!

His entire body burned as if on fire.

‘AAAAH!’

Jin Ja-gang flailed his arms and legs.

Something caught on his right hand. Jin Ja-gang grabbed it with all his might. It seemed to be a cow or pig bone, strangely firmly lodged.

It was extremely fortunate for Jin Ja-gang.

Having slept a bit earlier, his body had regained some strength. But he didn’t have enough strength to pull himself up while holding the bone.

Bubble, bubble.

Air bubbles continuously escaped from the hole in his neck.

Time was running out. Jin Ja-gang desperately concentrated on his right hand.

The path from the Baihui acupoint at the crown of his head, through the Jianjing acupoint, all the way to the little finger of his right hand.

A thread-like energy flowed through the meridian channels that Mang-ryo had opened.

It added a bit more strength. Jin Ja-gang gathered energy in his right arm until he could barely breathe, then used the bone as support to pull his body upward. The bone was thick and large enough to support Jin Ja-gang’s weight.

“Puha!”

Jin Ja-gang finally managed to raise his head above the spring water.

Having just emerged, he gasped for breath, but the sulfur fumes and toxic vapors rushed in, choking him.

“Huk, kkeuk kkeuk.”

His head spun. Jin Ja-gang decided not to move rashly and waited a moment to assess the situation.

When he opened his eyes, the hot spring water stung them. Jin Ja-gang tightly closed his eyes against the pain, then opened them again.

What Jin Ja-gang was holding was indeed a cow bone. The dead cow’s bone was embedded in the edge of the hot spring wall. The head part was embedded in the wall, with several ribs protruding and submerged in the hot spring.

Perhaps the cow’s carcass had gotten caught somewhere while falling, and as sulfur continued to pile on top of it, it had hardened.

For a moment, the moon was covered by clouds, and nothing could be seen.

Jin Ja-gang waited again. When the moon emerged from behind the clouds, he saw that there was a cave-like space in the wall where the cow’s head was embedded. It was a small rock cave, hollowed inward.

Jin Ja-gang, holding onto the cow’s bone and using his feet for support, barely managed to position his body at the entrance of the small cave.

Gathering his energy, he raised his body in one go and entered the cave.

“Huff, huff.”

Inside the cave, sulfur fumes and steam had accumulated, making it difficult to breathe.

Jin Ja-gang held onto the cow bone and extended only his head outside the cave to breathe.

His entire body stung and ached from contact with the hot stone floor. The skin that had touched the hot spring water had all peeled off. Blisters had formed and swelled in various places.

This hot spring, seemingly clear at a glance, was the final collection point for the waste that the Extreme Poison Sect had been dumping for hundreds of years. Not just ordinary waste, but the carcasses of various animals tested with poisons, the corpses of poisoned people, the carcasses of venomous creatures they raised, and all sorts of poisons they had used.

However, the high acidity of the hot spring would dissolve everything cleanly within a day.

Jin Ja-gang’s skin was no exception.

“Ugh.”

Jin Ja-gang groaned in pain as his entire body stung and ached. Though he had escaped from Mang-ryo’s hands, he was still suffering equally from poison.

The floor and walls were all hot stones permeated with sulfur, stinging at the slightest touch. When hot steam touched his peeled skin, it was so painful that he nearly screamed.

Jin Ja-gang was essentially being fumigated in a confined space.

This was hell.

Jin Ja-gang collapsed from exhaustion.

He was too tired even for tears now.

Having endured this much, if he were to give up and die now, no one could blame Jin Ja-gang… He made a choked sobbing sound as sorrow overwhelmed him.

But suddenly, a long shadow cast on the surface of the hot spring in front of him sent chills down his spine.

Why was there suddenly a shadow?

Jin Ja-gang stopped crying and hurriedly covered his neck and mouth.

It was the shadow of people using two long poles like crutches on either side. They were using the poles to cross the flowing sulfur water.

Soon, voices could be heard.

They were right above Jin Ja-gang’s head.

“Is this it?”

“The melting sulfur flows into this hot spring.”

“The toxic fumes are worse than expected. Even we can’t withstand it for long.”

Though they were speaking with covered mouths, their voices were clearly audible. They were masters with refined internal energy.

Despite their skill, they occasionally coughed during their conversation. The toxicity was that severe.

“Damn, I can’t breathe. Could he have survived in a place like this?”

“What do you mean? Endured this toxic air for half a day?”

“If what Elder Mang said is true, he might have survived. He’s someone who survived after being bitten by a Five-Colored Centipede.”

“Even a Five-Colored Centipede wouldn’t survive if thrown into this poisonous spring.”

The voices laughed heartily.

“Elder Mang has reason to be obsessed. He lost a precious Five-Colored Centipede, was severely reprimanded, and lost his leg too. Ah, and now he’s also lost an eye?”

“If that brat is alive, I’d like to take him as my disciple.”

“Stop it. You know how much Elder Mang cherishes him.”

“That’s true. Ha ha! But what does it matter? By now, he’s probably sunk somewhere to the bottom of that hot spring.”

“By tomorrow, he’ll have dissolved without a trace.”

“We’ve searched as much as we could. Let’s go.”

The shadows cast in the moonlight disappeared nimbly, alternately planting their long poles in the ground as they moved away.

Jin Ja-gang was terrified to learn that the Extreme Poison Sect had searched for him this far, but also relieved knowing they wouldn’t search any more.

Too exhausted, Jin Ja-gang fell asleep at the entrance of the cave.