Chapter 19

"I'm sorry, you were confined to the temple because of me, right?"

These were the first words Turan heard when he visited Meisa's room.

Faced with this noble lady's apology, he carefully chose his words before giving the most neutral response.

"It was necessary. More importantly, I'm glad you're safe."

If he had apologized for making her do something unreasonable here, it would seem like mocking that she couldn't do what he could.

Whether understanding the calculation behind this answer, Meisa exclaimed as if suddenly remembering something.

"Ah! Come to think of it, that magic that makes animals rot. Could it be an unknown bloodline magic? The magic power consumption was ridiculous."

"No. If you understand the principle, you could use it sufficiently too."

During their conversation, Turan's keen sense of smell caught an unfamiliar scent.

Something mixing a somewhat spoiled but rich aroma with a sour stench…

'Did she vomit?'

A faint smell like when accidentally cutting open a stomach while butchering animals wafted from Meisa's mouth.

He'd clearly heard she didn't eat, so why?

Turan was about to say something but realized his comment would be inappropriate in many ways and kept his mouth shut.

Given that even his keen sense of smell barely detected it, she must have cleaned up thoroughly, and mentioning he smelled it would raise suspicions about having a bloodline specialized in that area.

While he was lost in thought, Meisa, thinking Turan had stopped speaking because he didn't want to share the magic's principles, smiled slightly and probed.

"So you won't tell me for free? But without explaining the method, there's no proof it's not bloodline magic."

"I don't particularly care whether I won or not."

The two maintained eye contact silently for a moment.

Meisa was the first to surrender.

"Since it feels unsatisfying to end like this, if you tell me that magic's secret, I'll teach you one of Arabion's secret techniques. Fair?"

"Alright. Then-"

Turan explained about the existence of organisms too small to see with the eye, and how their consumption of larger life forms causes decay.

The principle of the magic was empowering these small organisms to accelerate the decay process.

Just from that explanation, Meisa seemed to grasp the magic's principle, letting out an "Ah!" of realization.

"So… it's fundamentally organism enhancement magic?"

"Yes."

"No wonder. Using it without knowing that, the efficiency was terrible. Hey, could you catch me a mouse?"

The maid standing respectfully behind asked in surprise at Meisa's request.

"A, a mouse…?"

"Yes. In a house this big, there must be some living somewhere."

Shortly after, Meisa nodded while putting down a mouse that had rotted and collapsed while still alive.

The maid who had caught the mouse looked about to vomit at the sight, but neither Turan nor Meisa paid any attention to that.

"Then I lost this match. Though I succeeded at the end, it was by forcefully pushing through with power."

"I considered that part of the competition too."

"That's not right. When talking about skill in handling magic, we don't usually include magic power amount."

Saying this, Meisa suddenly spoke with what seemed like an embarrassed expression.

"Um, could you tell Asiz it was a draw? I don't want to see him getting cocky."

"Understood."

"Then I should pay my debt. Let's see… this should do."

Meisa took a comb from beside her and combed her long hair a few times, then lifted it to show how the hair stuck to and rose with the comb.

"As you can see, when objects rub together, they create an attractive force. This-"

"Static electricity."

Meisa's eyes went round at Turan's response.

"…You knew?"

"Yes."

He had encountered such knowledge when learning about the principles of lightning striking from clouds in the library.

Though he hadn't properly understood the more difficult explanations about lightning occurring from positive and negative charge contact, he at least knew that lightning originated from electrical force and that friction could create similar phenomena on a small scale.

To demonstrate, Turan rubbed his fingers together several times to create a small spark of electricity.

By applying this, he could use lightning magic to shoot electricity directly, though not as powerful as lightning magic.

Though it was still only practice level, not refined enough for actual combat.

"Even this is quite a profound secret…"

Muttering "this is troublesome," Meisa sighed deeply and said.

"Could I think about how to repay you a bit more?"

"Sure."

Turan didn't say payment wasn't necessary.

One of the realizations he had gained since leaving the hill was that if you give knowledge, you should receive something in return.

After a moment of silence, Meisa shook her head and brought up an unexpected suggestion.

"Then until I think of sufficient payment, how about we continue together…"

"You mean magic practice?"

"Yes. I think we could learn quite a lot from each other."

"Alright."

Since he was planning to diligently practice magic every day anyway, competing achievements with a high-level magician wouldn't be bad for motivation.

"Then let's meet in the garden at sunset every day starting tomorrow."

* * *

The day after meeting with Meisa, someone came looking for Turan early in the morning.

It was Haram, the guardian bloodline noble who had briefly practiced swordsmanship with him in the temple yesterday.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Ah… yes. But what brings you here?"

"Have you thought about what I said yesterday?"

Turan recalled what he had said yesterday.

Was it about making time to train his body if possible?

When he mentioned this, Haram nodded and declared.

"Let's go."

"You mean for training?"

"Don't want to?"

After brief consideration, Turan agreed and left the room.

Though Asiz had said he'd take him to see plays today… getting something in return seemed more worthwhile than just playing.

As he was about to call a servant to send word canceling the appointment, Asiz appeared across the corridor.

"Hey, Turan! I heard there's a really amazing play today…"

His bright voice calling out shrank instantly upon seeing Haram standing beside him.

"It's Asiz."

"Ah, hello. Uncle."

"Will you come too?"

"What? No… I'm still tired from traveling outside recently so…"

Though what they would be going to hadn't even been mentioned, Asiz stammered before slipping away back the way he came.

Shortly after, Turan could understand why he had reacted that way.

"One more time."

"Huff…"

"Last time, one more."

In the eastern section of the Berk mansion, inside a training ground surrounded by four buildings, there were several devices that seemed to be magical items.

From metal bars that became heavier as magic power was infused, to spaces where the body became tremendously heavy upon entering.

Haram had Turan perform various movements repeatedly in such places, overworking every muscle in his body.

Generally, nobles' strength wouldn't be overwhelmed by their own body weight, but here was different.

"That's enough."

At Haram's words, Turan withdrew the power he had been infusing into the bar, threw it aside and collapsed.

He could feel his sweat-soaked hair sticking to his face.

"Is it hard?"

"Yes…"

It felt even more exhausting than when fighting the dark elf necromancers.

Then he had just been in poor condition from being rammed by the buffalo death spirit, but this time he had truly worked every muscle from neck to toes.

At Turan's answer, Haram showed a grotesque smile just slightly lifting the corners of his mouth.

"Still, be thankful that as a magician, once is enough."

"Is it different for non-magicians?"

"Originally, muscles disappear again over time even after being built up through training. You have to train constantly to maintain them. But magicians' magic power maintains their bodies in optimal condition, so once you build your body, it won't weaken."

After saying this, Haram pointed to the sky and added.

"Plus, isn't it refreshing to exercise and get some air?"

"That's… true."

Turan hesitated briefly before agreeing with Haram's words.

Indeed, there was a strange elation lying collapsed after sweating throughout his body.

Similar to when reading books, a sense of achievement that he was becoming something better than before…

Haram, who had been grumbling for a while about how all magicians – especially nobles – were fools for neglecting physical training despite having such good bodies for it, soon stood up and issued another command.

"You must be rested enough now."

"No, not yet-"

"I know. You've rested enough. Now I'll teach you weapon skills and martial arts."

After spending the morning in hellish training, Turan walked on trembling legs to a small dining room and asked the servants to bring food.

Before long, Asiz appeared from somewhere and suddenly sat down opposite him.

"How did you end up caught by Uncle Haram?"

"Well…"

When Turan explained about receiving instruction from Haram last night, Asiz burst out laughing in disbelief.

"You got baited."

"Baited?"

"Uncle is someone who believes all nobles should have close combat ability. I got caught by similar methods when I was young too."

Apparently his standard pattern was to show off elegant swordsmanship asking "Want to try this?" then drag people to the training ground and work them to exhaustion.

Asiz said that after suffering through Haram's training in his youth – when he was twenty-five – he wouldn't go near even if asked to train.

"But he said even training once has good effects?"

"It's still too hard! Magic training is better. You're a guest anyway, so you can just say you're quitting."

At Asiz's suggestion, Turan hesitated briefly before shaking his head.

"No, I want to continue for now."

Though Turan had never done any physical training besides walking, running and slinging stones his whole life, he could instinctively feel that Haram's teaching method was quite systematic.

Plus, this place was full of training devices made directly by the Berk family's enchanters.

He didn't want to miss the chance to utilize such items.

"Why don't you join too?"

"Me? I'm too old now…"

Asiz, who looked only in his early twenties in appearance, said with an awkward smile.

* * *

For the next three weeks, Turan's daily routine was thoroughly fulfilling.

Early morning physical training with Haram.

After thoroughly working all his muscles, replenishing nutrients with a quality lunch, then in the afternoon going to town with Asiz to watch plays or read at the library – though of course not like the one in Orem City – for relaxation.

And at sunset, returning to the mansion to practice magic with Meisa, during which they grew quite close.

By the time three weeks had passed, they were even calling each other by name familiarly.

Considering that at their first meeting Meisa couldn't even properly remember Turan's name, this was remarkable.

"Not going well, Turan?"

"Well, I'm not Arabion after all."

At Meisa's teasing tone, Turan scratched his chin while looking down at the burn marks covering the wall before him.

These were traces of lightning bolt – magic that shoots electricity generated by finger friction at targets.

His current task was hitting targets accurately with this, but still two or three out of ten shots would hit around rather than dead center of the target.

Rather than Turan's magic being unskilled, lightning magic itself tended not to hit accurately.

To overcome this, he would need to either perfectly understand and satisfy the principles of how lightning travels, or increase proficiency.

"I can't really help with this. I've never thought about aiming lightning magic."

Born with the storm bloodline, she could naturally handle lightning, so rather couldn't give advice to Turan going through trial and error.

How could someone who had run since birth teach walking to someone crawling?

"I'll just have to keep working at it."

While heaving a deep sigh, Turan recalled that the magical device would be completed in about a week.

And that he would have to leave then.

'…Somehow, I don't want to leave.'

Life with the Berk family could be called the happiest time since Turan was born.

Being a great family's stronghold, the living standard went without saying, and he had teachers and partners for training both body and magic, plus friends to enjoy hobbies with.

But he couldn't stay here forever.

He was just a guest after all.

Though there was no worry of being discovered now, there was no guarantee he could hide his true identity forever…

"There you are, Lady Meisa!"

While deep in thought, an unfamiliar voice rang out in the garden.

For some reason, a man in his early twenties he had never seen was looking at Turan with a strangely hostile expression.

"My lady, this man is…?"

"None of your business. More importantly, what brings you here? I'm sure I said no one from the main house should approach while I'm recuperating."

Meisa's attitude toward the man, apparently from the Arabion family, was utterly cold.

Even hostility could be felt.

The man, briefly trembling, bowed his head deeply and spoke.

"The family head has summoned you."

"For what?"

"Well…"

The man glanced at Turan.

As if telling him to get lost because important matters were about to be discussed.

But before Turan could react, Meisa sharply pressed.

"Answer quickly. If it's for a useless reason, you'd better be prepared."

At her fierce attitude suggesting she'd blast him with magic if he hesitated even slightly, the man hurriedly answered.

The content was shocking even to Turan listening quietly from the side.

"Dark elves are rampaging extensively in the south! They say three cities have already fallen, so they're forming an expedition…”

Chapter 19: Rising Where You Have Fallen (1)

The place Sage Cheong-heo headed was far from the Wind and Dust Inn. When they reached a spot devoid of all traces of people, he spoke:

"I am Cheong-heo of the Wudang. I know you are already watching. Come out now."

"…"

"Escort Lim."

No answer came. But Sage Cheong-heo waited with patience.

After a moment, the sound of rustling reached his ears, and the earth some ten zhang away heaved upward.

A sharp light gleamed in Sage Cheong-heo's eyes.

In that instant, the ground tore open and a figure emerged.

"Escort Lim?"

"I am sorry, Sage. I had to confirm whether there were pursuers."

The man who spoke as he threw aside the cloth he had used as camouflage was Lim Ho-ryeong, escort of the Northern Road Escort Agency.

Lim Ho-ryeong was in a wretched state. His left arm was missing entirely, and his body was covered in old scars. His dust-caked robes were tattered as rags.

"Are you all right, Escort Lim?"

"I am fine. But the others of the escort agency…"

Tears streamed down Lim Ho-ryeong's cheeks.

Everyone of the Northern Road Escort Agency had perished, leaving only him. Had Chief Escort Mak Gyeong not desperately drawn the enemy's attention, even he would not have survived.

Taking advantage of the enemies' momentary carelessness, he had hidden in a pit of sand. Any ordinary person would have been consumed solely with preserving their own life. But Lim Ho-ryeong was no ordinary man.

The reason he had fought so desperately to survive was to avenge his fallen comrades.

Sage Cheong-heo consoled him:

"It is a relief that at least you survived."

"Sage. Kuh!"

Lim Ho-ryeong's shoulders shook.

Sage Cheong-heo watched him in silence. He knew that at times like these, no words could offer comfort.

After a moment, having composed himself, Lim Ho-ryeong spoke:

"I am sorry."

"Not at all. If you are able, I would hear what happened."

"I tracked them to their stronghold."

"Truly?"

"I staked my life on it."

Lim Ho-ryeong clenched his teeth. His two eyes were entirely bloodshot.

The attackers had taken the Northern Road Escort Agency's cargo and fled north. They could have escaped as they were, but Lim Ho-ryeong had secretly pursued them.

He believed that uncovering the enemies' identities and bringing them to justice was the only way to avenge the fallen members of the escort agency.

At the risk of his life, he had tracked them for two days and ultimately discovered their destination.

"Is it truly certain that they are remnants of the Demonic Cult?"

"I overheard their conversation. They used the word 'Main Cult.' As far as I know, in the martial world, only the Demonic Cult uses that term. And they wore garments bearing an emblem reminiscent of the Sacred Flame."

"Hmm!"

Sage Cheong-heo let out a low murmur.

It was not yet confirmed. But the fact that the words invoking the Demonic Cult had passed their lips made the journey here not in vain.

"You have worked hard."

Sage Cheong-heo patted Lim Ho-ryeong on the back.

A tremor ran through Lim Ho-ryeong's body.

It was as though the scent of his comrades' blood upon his flesh had not yet faded, lingering still at his side. Until their vengeance was avenged, that scent would never leave.

A tremor passed through Sage Cheong-heo's eyes as well.

'I pray it is not the Demonic Cult…'

He prayed that Lim Ho-ryeong was mistaken.

While all others slept, Dam Ho cultivated his energy under Sage Hyeon-so's watchful gaze. He no longer needed Nourishing Essence Pills to cultivate the Heavy Heaven Heart Method without difficulty.

Dam Ho's Heavy Heaven Heart Method had already reached the fifth level of attainment. It was the fruit of the Nourishing Essence Pills' aid combined with his own blood-soaked effort.

On the journey here, Dam Ho had not rested a single day. While others spent their time in idle talk or drink, he had cultivated. Thanks to this, he now understood the Heavy Heaven Heart Method deeply.

Sage Hyeon-so murmured:

"The Heavy Heaven Heart Method is a sturdy foundation. Just as the Mount Hua Sect's heart method developed from the Heavy Heaven Heart Method, as your understanding deepens, you will be able to forge a heart method of your own."

Watching his disciple's progress advance with each passing day brought Sage Hyeon-so great joy.

At that moment, Dam Ho finished his cultivation and opened his eyes.

"Master."

"Oh, good! You have finished?"

"Yes."

"Well done."

Dam Ho released his lotus posture and rose.

Since leaving Mount Hua, he had ridden nearly without rest all the way here, yet there was no trace of fatigue upon his face. The Heavy Heaven Heart Method had served him well.

Conversely, Sage Hyeon-so's face was deeply troubled.

"Is something troubling you, Master?"

"No."

"Master."

"It is nothing. I simply have much on my mind. Do not worry."

"Yes."

"You brat."

As Sage Hyeon-so forced a smile—

"Martial Uncle!"

Mu-gyeong's voice came from outside.

"Come in."

At Sage Hyeon-so's permission, Mu-gyeong and Un-gyeong hurriedly opened the door and entered.

"What is it?"

"Sage Cheong-heo has ordered an immediate sortie."

"At this hour?"

Sage Hyeon-so glanced out the window. It was still the early hours of dawn, the darkness not yet lifted.

"He said it was urgent."

"Urgent?"

Sage Hyeon-so's eyebrow twitched.

At this moment, there was only one thing that could be called urgent.

'The Demonic Cult.'

Sage Hyeon-so rose quickly and said to Dam Ho:

"Hurry and prepare. Follow me."

"Yes!"

Sage Hyeon-so and Mu-gyeong rushed out first.

Un-gyeong, watching Dam Ho gather Sage Hyeon-so's belongings, spoke:

"Perhaps you should not go."

"What?"

"If they truly are the Demonic Cult, no one will have the luxury of helping you."

"Junior Brother."

"Rather than becoming a burden to everyone, it would help them all if you remained here."

Un-gyeong's gaze was cold. So cold it sent a shiver through the body. But it was not enough to shake Dam Ho's eyes.

"Why do you think I would be a burden?"

"Do you ask because you do not know?"

"No matter what you say, I am going."

"Cheong-gyeong!"

"I cannot let my Master go to that dangerous place alone."

When Dam Ho took this stance, Un-gyeong had nothing further to say.

"I have given you my warning."

"I heard it clearly."

"You are as stubborn as a mule."

Un-gyeong shook his head and turned. He was about to step outside when he suddenly looked back.

"But… do be careful."

He left without waiting for Dam Ho's answer.

Dam Ho stared for a moment at the door through which Un-gyeong had vanished. But it was only a moment—he quickly packed his things and stepped outside.

Before the Wind and Dust Inn, the young masters of every sect had already gathered. Mounted and waiting, their faces were tense.

After a moment, Sage Cheong-heo, Sage Hyeon-so, and Yeom Jung-hwa of the Zhongnan Sect emerged. At their side was Lim Ho-ryeong, his left arm gone.

Sage Cheong-heo addressed the young martial artists:

"There is no time, which is why I have summoned you all at this hour. From now, we will leave the Jade Gate Pass and head directly into Xinjiang. Everyone, take particular care of your own safety and be mindful not to fall behind. Then—we depart."

Sage Cheong-heo mounted first and set off. Behind him, Yeon So-ha and the Wudang disciples followed.

"We move out as well."

Yeom Jung-hwa led the Zhongnan disciples after them.

Last to move were the Mount Hua disciples.

Mu-gyeong galloped to Sage Hyeon-so's side.

"Martial Uncle."

"What is it?"

"Verify that they are truly of the Demonic Cult, then withdraw."

"But…"

"The Grandmaster has ordered it. Leave the fighting to the Wudang, and prioritize your own safety above all else. So should a battle break out, do not hesitate—pull back."

"Understood."

In the end, Sage Hyeon-so nodded.

In terms of rank and age, he was the eldest, but the true leader of the Mount Hua delegation was Mu-gyeong. Sage Hyeon-so had to follow his command.

'Could it truly be the Demonic Cult?'

Sage Cheong-heo had arranged for Sage Hyeon-so and Yeom Jung-hwa to meet Lim Ho-ryeong as well. Lim Ho-ryeong recounted the battle that had occurred near Lop Nur Lake.

Lim Ho-ryeong's account was so detailed it felt as though one had witnessed the battle firsthand. The martial arts of the enemies described in his account closely matched the Demonic Cult's arts as Sage Cheong-heo knew them.

In particular, the sword technique wielded by the attackers' leader bore a striking resemblance to the Nine Extinction Blades—one of the Demonic Cult's most renowned supreme techniques.

Above all, the flame emblem embroidered upon their garments immediately recalled the Sacred Flame, the symbol of the Demonic Cult.

Sage Hyeon-so's face darkened of its own accord.

Twenty years ago—how many sacrifices had been made? The peace of the martial world had been bought with the deaths of countless souls.

If these were truly the remnants of the Demonic Cult, the martial world might yet be forced to pay an even greater price.

'Amitabha! I pray it is not the Demonic Cult…'

Sage Hyeon-so prayed with all his heart, again and again.

In the distance, the Jade Gate Pass was visible.

The soldiers guarding it came into view. As though arrangements had already been made, they opened the pass.

A wilderness red as blood lay spread before them.

***

The man's room was vast. Lining its walls were countless bookshelves, each filled with a multitude of volumes.

The man's desk stood at the center of this library, within arm's reach of any book he might need.

The man, who appeared to be in his late forties, had an austere, refined face. His skin, unusually fair for a man, his sharp gaze, and his firmly closed lips were all striking features.

He was absorbed in a text when—

"Master."

A quiet voice emerged from the empty space.

The man addressed as Master raised his head. The voice continued:

"It is Rai-gong."

"What is it?"

"We have a tail."

"A tail?"

"It seems the meal we had before is causing trouble. A survivor from the Northern Road Escort Agency has been confirmed."

"Did not Sect Leader Jong say he had handled it properly?"

"My apologies."

At Rai-gong's answer, the man frowned.

"Where did the tail appear?"

"As confirmed—the Wudang, Mount Hua, and Zhongnan."

In that instant, the man's gaze turned to ice. He closed the book he had been reading and rose from his seat.

Three of the Nine Great Sects were involved. That meant the entire Nine Great Sects might mobilize.

If the Nine Great Sects moved, the Five Great Families would follow, and in turn the entire world would be set in motion.

"We still lack the strength to contend with the world."

"What shall we do?"

"We abandon this place."

"What? Are you saying we are to give up the Heavenly Demon Prison so easily?"

"It was something we would have had to do eventually. The timing has merely been advanced."

"Understood."

"I will report to the Cult Leader. Begin the operation."

"By your command!"

Rai-gong's presence vanished.

The man, left alone, murmured:

"Even if we abandon the Heavenly Demon Prison, we must still leave them a parting gift."

The man's eyes gleamed with a sinister light.

Gwak-o pushed the cart to the edge of the cliff with great difficulty, then sifted through the garbage. He took out a wooden barrel, placed it down beside him, and dumped the rest of the waste over the cliff.

With his pants still down, he stood at the cliff’s edge and urinated while looking down.

Jin Ja-gang felt the urge to push Gwak-o over. Then he would know how much suffering Jin Ja-gang had endured down there.

But he couldn’t end it like that.

Jin Ja-gang concealed his killing intent and approached the cart.

Looking at the wooden barrel that had been set down, he recognized it as the same one that occasionally floated downstream to the sulfur hot spring. The container was the same, but the contents were different. The wooden barrel that had previously contained only bones now held food.

Though it looked unappetizing—fried fish with bite marks, food that looked trampled and soiled—it was still food.

Why had it only contained bones all those times before?

He didn’t want to think about it, but it was a possibility.

Jin Ja-gang used the moment when Gwak-o turned away to urinate to spit the buttercup juice he’d been chewing into the food and smeared some on the cart handle.

Then he quickly retreated into the bushes.

Returning from urinating, Gwak-o took out the food from the wooden barrel and laid it out. Then he began to eat.

“Hehe.”

Gwak-o tore into a chicken leg and fish. After eating his fill, he even belched.

“Burp. Why do they only give this to Ja-gang? Is it like food offerings for the dead? I want to eat such greasy food regularly too.”

Only then did Jin Ja-gang fully understand why there had been only bones in the wooden barrel.

“The taste is a bit strange. My nose feels numb… Today’s food must have gone bad. You can eat it, Ja-gang.”

Jin Ja-gang flinched, but realized Gwak-o wasn’t speaking to the present Jin Ja-gang.

Gwak-o left a little food and threw it down the cliff. Seemingly unsatisfied, he even licked his fingers clean.

Then he grabbed the cart handle and began to descend. Jin Ja-gang carefully followed behind Gwak-o.

“My dream was to roam the martial world with outstanding female heroes… When did I last do laundry? Today’s garbage…”

Gwak-o kept mumbling incomprehensible things to himself, even though no one was listening.

“Ah, my stomach hurts a bit. Why is that?”

Gwak-o stopped while pulling the cart and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“I don’t feel well. My head is dizzy too.”

He couldn’t possibly feel well. He had eaten food laced with the highly toxic buttercup juice.

Rattle, rattle.

Gwak-o already had difficulty pulling the cart with one eye not working. But as he continued, the cart began to zigzag back and forth more and more.

“Why does my good eye hurt too? Ah! Did sweat get in it?”

Gwak-o rubbed his eyes. But since buttercup juice had been smeared on the handle, the more he touched his eyes, the worse they became.

“I… I need to rest quickly…”

Gwak-o pulled the cart with tears trickling from his eyes, barely able to keep them open.

Jin Ja-gang now stuck close behind the cart. As a precaution, he continued chewing more buttercups as he walked alongside the cart. Even if Gwak-o turned around, he wouldn’t easily recognize who Jin Ja-gang was.

After descending the mountain for some time, the narrow path ended, and a well-trodden road appeared. Buildings of the Extreme Poison Sect could be seen scattered around.

Ahead, near a well, a group of warriors stood guard. They were laughing and chatting among themselves. Their voices carried all the way to Jin Ja-gang.

Unfortunately, they had to pass by that spot. There was no other path.

Jin Ja-gang’s heart pounded.

Gwak-o heard the noise from up ahead and muttered:

“Those b*st*rds…”

Gwak-o cursed, then rubbed his eyes vigorously and pulled the cart along the edge of the road, staying as close to the side as possible.

Jin Ja-gang also hugged the roadside, staying with the cart.

He was extremely tense. He considered hiding behind the cart but realized they had already been spotted. Trying to hide now would only make him look more suspicious.

Jin Ja-gang placed his hand lightly on the back of the cart, pretending as if he had been pushing it all along.

He had no hair or eyebrows. He relied on the belief that no one except Mang-ryo would recognize his face.

‘Please just let us pass. Please.’

The warriors stopped their conversation as the cart approached. Gwak-o stopped the cart, rubbed his eyes, and bowed respectfully.

“Hello, elders. I’d like to pass through. Hehe.”

The warriors looked Gwak-o and Jin Ja-gang up and down. They didn’t seem particularly interested.

But something must have caught one warrior’s eye, because he paused.

The warrior frowned and shouted:

“Hey! I told you to use the side path where you can’t be seen! It stinks! And you’re passing by the well of all places.”

“I’ll take the side path once I pass here. Hehe. This is the only road available.”

“And why is your one good eye so red? Filthy bastard.”

Gwak-o rubbed his eye.

“Hehe, I’ve always been a bit filthy… Sorry.”

Jin Ja-gang felt a surge of anger at Gwak-o’s servile behavior.

‘You betrayed Hundred Flower Valley just to end up like this?’

But this was no time for anger. There were four adult warriors. They weren’t opponents Jin Ja-gang could handle even if he were angry. Jin Ja-gang could only keep his head down.

“Hey, pass quickly. You stink.”

“You’re ruining the water.”

As the other warriors waved them away in annoyance, Gwak-o tried to pull the cart past. But the gaze of the warrior who had first confronted Gwak-o turned toward Jin Ja-gang.

“And what’s that? Why does it look so hideous?”

Thud.

Jin Ja-gang’s heart sank.

“What’s with that appearance… Hey!”

Gwak-o, with his poor vision and in agony, didn’t even know who they were talking to and continued to grovel.

“El-elders, my stomach hurts, so I need to quickly…”

“You! What are you?”

“Huh? I’m Gwak-o…”

Jin Ja-gang felt his newly growing hair stand on end.

If he spoke now, Gwak-o would recognize him!

Even if the warriors told Gwak-o, “We’re not talking to you!” he would still recognize Jin Ja-gang.

That would be the end.

Without further thought, Jin Ja-gang bit his tongue hard.

A metallic, blood taste filled his mouth. Unable to spit out the blood, he swallowed it.

“This guy…?” The suspicious warrior approached Jin Ja-gang. Gwak-o, unable to see clearly, only saw a blurry shadow approaching and raised both arms in alarm.

“Heeeek!”

Fortunately for Jin Ja-gang, Gwak-o’s hand touched the warrior’s body. The warrior jumped back in surprise.

“How filthy! What are these guys doing?”

“Oh elder, I’m sorry. I can’t see well right now.”

The warrior grabbed his sword and glared at Jin Ja-gang with fierce eyes. The other warriors also sensed something amiss and placed their hands on their sword hilts.

Click.

Startled by the metallic sound, Gwak-o sank to the ground.

“Hyak!”

But Jin Ja-gang still stood perfectly still.

“These guys?”

At that moment, Jin Ja-gang opened his mouth toward the warriors.

The warriors stepped back with shocked expressions.

Inside Jin Ja-gang’s mouth, his tongue was swollen, covered in blisters, and soaked in blood.

Jin Ja-gang had wounded his tongue, which had been chewing buttercups, allowing the juice to reach the wound. Thanks to Jin Ja-gang’s constitution, which responded quickly to toxins, blisters had immediately formed and swelled.

“Ugh…”

Even the warriors, who had seen many terrible sights, had never seen something so horrific.

The warriors grimaced and removed their hands from their sword hilts.

“With a tongue like that, he can’t speak.”

“You were being oversensitive.”

Even the warrior who had first confronted them took a step back.

“Ugh! It’s truly disgusting. No matter what research they’re doing, what are the elders thinking? We’ve joined the Martial Arts Alliance, but how long will they continue doing this to people?”

“Be patient, be patient. After this month, we’ll officially be members of a righteous sect.”

Gwak-o, who didn’t understand what was happening, looked confused.

“Excuse me?”

“Just get out of here! What rotten luck.”

The warriors looked at Jin Ja-gang and Gwak-o with disgust.

Gwak-o bowed repeatedly and quickly pulled the cart away.

When they were far enough from the warriors, Gwak-o muttered again:

“B*st*rds.”

Rattle, rattle.

As Gwak-o had said, he soon turned onto a side path. It was the road used for collecting waste.

Even on this path, Jin Ja-gang encountered Extreme Poison Sect warriors several times. Jin Ja-gang walked with his swollen tongue sticking out. From then on, people only glanced at him but didn’t speak to him.

Fortunately, Mang-ryo wasn’t among those they encountered.

As they descended to the middle of the mountain, Jin Ja-gang could see the main gate in the distance.

‘If I can just get past there…’

But to reach the gate, they would have to pass through a square-shaped courtyard and along a wide entrance path. It was obvious that warriors and masters would be stationed in that courtyard, and even if they reached the entrance path, they would be instantly exposed in the open area.

No matter what method Jin Ja-gang tried, there was no way to escape unnoticed.

With regret, Gwak-o’s cart turned toward the outskirts.

It was somewhat isolated. There were dilapidated mud houses that could barely be called homes.

It was already past evening, and the surroundings were mostly dark.

Gwak-o stopped the cart in front of one of the mud houses and went inside. It seemed he had finished his day’s work and returned to his lodging.

Jin Ja-gang looked around inside the mud house. A chamber pot, a water jar, and a few broken dishes on a shelf…

The interior of the mud house was as pitiful as Gwak-o’s current state.

“Uuugh.”

Gwak-o frantically washed his face with water from the jar. Then he sat down on the floor, which was covered only with a straw mat.

“…Sob.”

Jin Ja-gang couldn’t believe his ears.

‘Is he crying?’

Gwak-o was clutching his stomach, groaning and shedding tears.

“Sob, sob.”

Jin Ja-gang quietly sat down in a corner of the room.

Gwak-o’s small cries continued.

“It hurts… Why must I suffer like this? Why must I live like this?”

Gwak-o sobbed for a long time.

“Sob, sob, it’s all because of Ja-gang. If it weren’t for you… If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have ended up like this.”

Jin Ja-gang remained silent not out of pity or fear of discovery, but simply because his tongue hadn’t healed yet.

“You evil b*st*rd. Because of you, what has become of me? Sob.”

After listening for quite some time, Jin Ja-gang finally spoke:

“That’s not my fault, but the fault of a brother who betrayed Hundred Flower Valley.”

“…”

Gwak-o’s sobbing stopped abruptly. Goosebumps covered his entire body.

Gwak-o jumped up and frantically looked around. But it had been dark for a long time, and there were no lights in the room.

Moreover, with his poor vision, he couldn’t see Jin Ja-gang sitting in the corner of the room.

“W-who’s there?”

Gulp. The sound of Gwak-o swallowing echoed through the room.

“J-Ja-gang?”

Jin Ja-gang replied:

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Aaaaaah!”

Terrified, Gwak-o fell on his backside and scrambled backward while seated. Leaning against the wall, Gwak-o trembled and said:

“Y-you’re alive. You’re really alive. H-how did you…?”

Jin Ja-gang didn’t answer that question.

“Why did you…”

He wanted to ask why Gwak-o had pushed him off the cliff, but he didn’t feel the need. Looking at Gwak-o’s current state, his motives were obvious.

Gwak-o seemed to have regained some composure. He groped around the room, searching for Jin Ja-gang.

“Y-you’re alive. That’s really fortunate. I was wrong. At that time, I was blinded by something… But I swear, I didn’t say a word about you to those guys. Look at my face. This is what they did to me because I wouldn’t talk about you.”

Jin Ja-gang moved to the side, avoiding Gwak-o. He was tired of exchanging words with him.

“Where are the people of Hundred Flower Valley?”

After thinking for a moment, Gwak-o answered:

“They’re all dead. Those guys killed them all…”

“I saw Yang Il’s corpse.”

Suddenly, Gwak-o spoke excitedly:

“So that’s it! Then you saw the map Yang Il was carrying? They’re imprisoned there. Our Hundred Flower Valley people…”

“There’s no one there.”

“No, they’re there.”

“They’re not. I already went there.”