Chapter 5

Reddish-brown dried earth, scattered trees here and there, and yellow dust coloring the distant horizon.

Due to the wasteland spread below the Hisaril hills, no large villages or cities could develop in this area.

There wasn't enough food supply to support a large population, nor any special products worth buying food from elsewhere.

As a result, Turan had to walk and walk through the wasteland without meeting a single person.

While it was fresh scenery unseen from the hills, that novelty lasted only briefly – after a full day, it became tiresome.

Though he walked somewhat slowly, half enjoying his first journey and half wanting to conserve magic power in case something happened, even that pace was equivalent to an ordinary person running.

If a normal traveler had walked, it would have probably taken three days just to get here.

Yet seeing nothing around, it seemed he had passed several villages without encountering them.

As long as there were no worries about food and drink, he would eventually arrive somewhere by just walking…

"Come."

When he stretched his hand toward the sky and commanded, a bird flying in the distance came and perched on it.

Commanding animals was something he had done without fail since gaining magic, so he could do it as easily as breathing.

Turan broke the landed bird's neck with his other hand, then took out a knife from his bag to pluck its feathers and skin it.

Finally, he made a cut in the neck and concentrated, causing blood to pour out.

'Where…'

A dark red, sticky mass dropped from the flowing blood, and clear water separated and rose up.

Magic to extract drinkable water from blood.

One of the techniques learned from Keorn, it was hundreds of times more efficient than creating water from empty air.

After filling his leather water skin and eating the roasted bird meat with sheep milk cheese he had, his meal was complete.

How long had he walked after eating?

Around when the sun was rising to its zenith, he saw people coming down a low hill opposite him.

Six people in total.

All were men wearing dust-covered cloaks typical of travelers and carrying short swords that seemed to be for self-defense.

Behind them was a large cart covered with cloth – they appeared to be traveling merchants who went around villages.

Though he had never met them directly, he had heard stories about such people occasionally visiting the village below the hills.

When Turan blocked their path, a middle-aged man who seemed to be the leader asked with a wary expression.

"Who are you to block our path?"

"I'm a lone traveler. Could you tell me if there's a city nearby?"

At this polite question, the merchant-looking men tilted their heads and looked at each other.

Then, Turan noticed several of them looking at him with sharp gazes.

Eyes mixed with desire rather than wariness, like hunters looking at prey…

The leader spoke in a much ruder tone than before.

"Follow the path we came from and you'll reach a city called Murei. If you're not stupid, you can easily find it by following the wheel tracks."

At the somewhat unpleasant tone, Turan slightly frowned while nodding.

He didn't want to argue about why they were speaking that way.

After all, he was the one who suddenly blocked their path to ask questions, and they had given him the information he wanted.

"Thank you."

After bowing his head in greeting and trying to move along the wheel tracks as they said, one of the merchants blocked his path.

A vile smile was plastered on his face as he looked this way.

"Wait. If you receive something, you should give something. Are you trying to run away after just taking information?"

"First open that bag. Looks quite full."

The merchants had suddenly surrounded Turan.

Some had even drawn their swords, seeming ready to cut his throat the moment he resisted.

"Bandits?"

"Let's call it a side job. Just drop the bag and get lost. We'll spare your clothes. We don't particularly enjoy taking lives."

Turan's developed sense of smell sometimes detected even emotions as scents.

Though not always detectable, it worked for nearby targets and particularly intense emotions.

And now, the bandits surrounding him gave off the scent of predators just before tearing into their prey.

Their words about letting him go were lies – they probably just wanted him to remove the bag himself to keep the contents from getting bloodied.

"Good, I'll practice with you guys."

"What?"

Turan spread his palm wide and swept it horizontally while imagining the small wind he created growing hundreds of times stronger.

The strengthened gale, consuming magic power, instantly swept up and threw all six bandits.

"Aaaaah-!"

Creating wind directly with hand movements and amplifying it clearly consumed much less magic power than just making wind.

This too was one of the techniques learned from Keorn, like extracting water from blood.

Looking at the thrown bandits, one seemed to have broken his neck in the fall and couldn't get up, while another was limping with what appeared to be a broken leg before collapsing.

Turan used a second magic against the four bandits who were struggling to stand up covered in dirt.

It started with untying the water skin at his waist.

Water that seeped out from the opening transformed into sharp ice needles emanating heat, then flew following Turan's gesture and embedded in one bandit's abdomen.

This was supposedly magic useful when there was plenty of water around?

"Aaaaargh!"

"I'm sorry! Please forgive me!"

While the one with the broken leg threw away his sword and begged and screamed, Turan felt dissatisfied with the magic he had just used.

The flying speed, power, and accuracy were all ridiculously inferior compared to stone throwing.

Well, stone throwing was a skill he had honed his entire life, so naturally there would be a difference from normal shooting.

As a test, after spinning the second ice needle around a couple times before shooting, it flew at several times the previous speed and pierced through the neck of a bandit who was running away in the distance.

"Die-!"

At that moment, two bandits who had stealthily approached charged at Turan with battle cries.

Turan was about to kick them away but changed his mind and stomped the ground hard.

Instantly, several large earth spikes rose from the reddish-brown wasteland, piercing through various parts of the charging men's bodies.

This was a technique that could only be used on earthen ground, raising and transforming the earth into weapons.

"Kuhek…"

Though they were weak humans who could be killed with just a word to die, getting some rough combat experience like this gave him a sense of how to fight in the future.

He also got a feel for which techniques learned over the past three days were practical in combat and suited his aptitude.

Since the one stabbed in the stomach would die soon anyway, Turan slowly walked toward the last survivor with the broken leg.

Keorn had taught never to show mercy to roadside bandits like these.

If you spare even one out of pity, they'll repay it by harming ten innocent people someday.

Turan intended to thoroughly follow that teaching.

"Aah…"

Just as he reached out toward the man who was trembling and wetting himself, instead of finishing him off, Turan voiced a sudden question.

"Let me ask one thing."

"P-please ask! Magic sir! I'll answer anything!"

Thinking a possibility of salvation had opened, the bandit bowed his head, ignoring even the pain of his broken leg.

"Why attack me so recklessly? A lone traveler could be a magician like this?"

If Turan were a bandit, he would never attack someone like himself.

Beyond basic morality of not harming those who don't harm you, wouldn't it be natural to think someone traveling alone in such wasteland might have something up their sleeve?

It's not like they had something to rely on either.

After hesitating briefly at the question, the bandit answered.

"W-well, because you bowed your head, sir magician…"

"What?"

"When the boss spoke rudely but you still bowed and greeted us, we naturally thought you were an ordinary person."

So the rude tone had been a kind of test.

When Turan casually greeted them without bothering to argue, they judged him as weak and tried to satisfy their desires.

"Thank you. I learned something good."

That showing weakness in unpopulated places provokes others.

As payment for this good lesson, Turan placed his finger on the forehead of the last survivor and commanded death.

At least he could die without pain.

* * *

The cart the bandits had been pulling was full of various daily necessities difficult to make in rural areas, but judging from their unused condition, they didn't seem to be stolen or plundered.

The guess that they were originally merchants wasn't completely wrong.

Since it would be troublesome to take everything, Turan only took money from their possessions before abandoning the cart and following the wheel tracks.

Perhaps because it was the direction of the city, as he walked, more weeds grew on the reddish-brown ground and the number of trees increased noticeably.

Since the destination was clear now, he ran lightly at several times his previous speed, allowing him to reach the city called Murei that the bandit leader had mentioned by sunset.

"Wow…"

Turan exclaimed at the sight of the city spread below a gentle hill.

Under the setting sun, over a hundred people were visible walking the streets or working.

Yet the village below Hisaril hills had only thirty or forty residents in total.

This was the first time since his birth that he had seen so many people together.

Entering deeper, Turan walked slowly through the crowds of people, taking in the city he was seeing for the first time.

The buildings made of dark brown bricks were all similar in shape and two to three stories tall, sometimes with what looked like stalls set up in front, perhaps for selling goods.

The passing people seemed uninterested in each other, neither speaking nor greeting when they met.

Turan quietly observed them before choosing the most leisurely-looking fruit vendor to speak to.

"Excuse me."

"Hm? A customer?"

"No, I was wondering if you could tell me where to find an 'inn'-"

Though he knew about places for travelers to stay from what Keorn had taught him.

Supposedly every city had them.

However, the fruit vendor snorted and shook his head without even listening to Turan's full question.

"If you're not buying fruit, get lost!"

Turan's face hardened briefly at this cold attitude.

Should he get angry here to avoid being looked down on?

But perhaps in the city, it was an unwritten rule that you had to buy fruit to ask questions.

After considering briefly, Turan nodded and took out his purse.

"Alright. How much is this?"

"Apples are 2 derpit each. Since you seem to be from outside, other coins of similar size are fine too."

When he asked what a derpit was, it seemed to be the copper currency used in this city.

Since he had some similar ones among the money taken from the bandits, Turan used these to buy fruit.

Though it was his first time seeing this fruit called an apple, it looked quite unripe, being withered and not smelling very good.

"Go straight down that road and turn left, you'll see an inn with a blue roof and a beer mug painted on it."

Having finally learned the inn's location, Turan took a bite of the apple while walking but threw it away on the street.

It tasted so terribly sour and astringent that he suspected it might be poisoned.

Fortunately the vendor hadn't lied about the inn's location – if he had, Turan had planned to go back and give him a taste of sharp magic – as the inn appeared where indicated.

When he entered, a young serving girl approached Turan.

"Oh my, what a handsome brother! Are you a guest?"

"Mm."

Turan simply nodded in agreement.

He was internally flustered by the woman's loose clothing that was practically see-through.

Though he had heard such places had servers who sometimes also worked as prostitutes – there was clearly a difference between just hearing about it and seeing it directly.

"How much per day?"

"16 derpit. 1 rum is fine too. If you have other money, you'll need to ask the owner."

When he asked what a rum was, it seemed to mean silver coins.

When he held out the money, the serving girl who took it smiled broadly while subtly rubbing her body against Turan's shoulder.

"It'll be too cold sleeping alone in the room, shall I warm it up for you?"

"No thanks."

Keorn had repeatedly warned against carelessly getting involved with inn serving girls and prostitutes.

Most women who did such work were diseased, and while strong knights and nobles had excellent disease resistance so it wasn't a problem for them, they would spread it when being intimate with other women later.

"Rather, there's something I'd like to ask."

What Turan wanted to ask was whether there were any bounty-marked masu near the city.

Not only could he grow by killing masu and absorbing magic power, but he could earn money as a bonus.

But instead of answering Turan's question, the serving girl pointed to a large barrel of alcohol placed nearby.

The second realization gained after coming down from the hills was that in the city, no question was free.

Chapter 5: Where There Is Change, There Is That Which Does Not Change (Part 2)

Dam Ho emerged from his quarters.

His face had grown noticeably pale over the past few days. He had been consumed by the Heavy Heaven Heart Method, refusing to leave his room.

He had memorized the Heavy Heaven Heart Method perfectly after reading it only twice. But Dam Ho did not stop there—he read it over and over again.

While Dam Ho was immersed in the Heavy Heaven Heart Method, Sage Hyeon-so had not opened his door even once. He knew that Dam Ho had fallen into a meditation trance.

When Dam Ho finally emerged, his expression was noticeably refreshed. He had glimpsed in the Heavy Heaven Heart Method the very possibility he had been searching for.

Nothing was yet clear. There was no guarantee he would achieve what he desired. But the mere existence of that slim possibility set his heart racing.

"Hah!"

Dam Ho inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh air—

"Junior Brother!"

A clear, bright voice rang out suddenly.

He turned to find a woman of refined elegance. On Mount Hua, there was only one woman who carried herself with such an air.

"Martial Sister."

It was Han So-yu.

She approached him.

"Is something wrong?"

"No."

"Then why have you not shown yourself? I was worried. You climb the mountain every single day, and then suddenly you disappear for days."

"Ah, I had matters to attend to."

"Truly? You are not ill, are you?"

"No."

Han So-yu peered into Dam Ho's eyes. Dam Ho did not avoid her gaze. Seeing this, she smiled.

"That appears to be the truth. What a relief."

"Is that why you came?"

"I had something to tell you as well, so it served as an excuse. You have not heard yet, have you?"

"Heard what?"

"So no one has told you after all."

A slight furrow appeared between Han So-yu's brows. She looked toward Lotus Peak with a mildly dissatisfied expression.

"Martial Sister?"

"Ah, forgive me. All of the First Generation Disciples will soon be gathered at True Martial Palace."

"True Martial Palace?"

True Martial Palace was the symbol of the Mount Hua Sect's martial might. Any disciple who bore the sect's name aspired to enter it. But its threshold was high and narrow, admitting no one easily.

Even among the First Generation Disciples, only a select few were permitted to come and go from True Martial Palace. Naturally, Dam Ho was not yet among them.

"But why True Martial Palace?"

"Martial Uncle Hyeon-geom has finally emerged from seclusion. He has ordered all First Generation Disciples to assemble."

Han So-yu's cheeks flushed slightly. Her excitement was palpable.

Sage Hyeon-geom was the Palace Master of True Martial Palace. He was also universally acknowledged as the greatest martial artist of the current era on Mount Hua.

Six years ago, he had entered closed cultivation to consolidate his insights—before Dam Ho had even joined the Mount Hua Sect. Because of this, Dam Ho had heard of Sage Hyeon-geom but never seen him in person.

The man who had realized the ultimate depths of Mount Hua's sword.

It was said that when his sword unfurled, plum blossoms bloomed in profusion.

Some went so far as to say:

The current Sage Hyeon-geom possessed martial power comparable to the Heaven Vault Master of old.

Such was the esteem in which he was held.

"He is the one who summoned the disciples?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"I imagine he wishes to share his insights with the disciples."

Han So-yu's face was flushed with excitement.

To receive instruction from Sage Hyeon-geom—the greatest swordsman of Mount Hua—was akin to a tremendous stroke of fortune. The entire Mount Hua Sect was abuzz.

"Not just the First Generation Disciples. Eventually, he intends to see the Second Generation Disciples and the outer disciples as well."

"Hmm!"

"So prepare yourself well, Junior Brother. Who knows? If you catch his eye, he might impart insights suited to you."

The words carried many layers of meaning.

Dam Ho nodded silently. Han So-yu smiled at his stoic demeanor.

"You truly are the most taciturn person… Well, I shall be going. I will send word when it is time, and we shall meet then."

"Thank you, Martial Sister."

Han So-yu waved and departed.

Dam Ho watched her retreating figure for a long while.

Han So-yu was one of the very few people in the Mount Hua Sect who looked at him as he truly was. Her eyes held neither pity nor condescension. She regarded him simply as a fellow disciple of the Mount Hua Sect. For that, he was grateful.

"Sage Hyeon-geom, then…"

Dam Ho looked toward the summit of Cloud Peak. Hidden by the trees, True Martial Palace would be somewhere near the top—and Sage Hyeon-geom would be there.

He did not know what instruction Sage Hyeon-geom would offer, but Dam Ho had no energy to spare for worrying about it just yet.

His meeting with Sage Hyeon-geom was an event yet to come. There was no need to grow excited prematurely.

Dam Ho first strapped the sandbag to his left ankle. Having unexpectedly obtained the Heavy Heaven Heart Method, he had paused his routine—but now he intended to resume climbing Mount Hua.

With the sandbag secured, he descended the mountain. Going down the sheer cliffs of Mount Hua was harder than going up. One misstep meant a fatal fall.

On paths that even healthy people found exhausting, Dam Ho descended with remarkable speed. His crippled leg was no hindrance.

Five years of grueling effort had sharpened his sense of balance to an extraordinary degree. Thanks to this, Dam Ho made it safely down the mountain.

He paused to catch his breath. When it had settled, he began to climb again.

Going down required extraordinary balance; climbing demanded formidable leg strength and cardiovascular endurance. Dam Ho gritted his teeth and ascended, step by painstaking step.

Time passed. Dam Ho's entire body was drenched in sweat. The sandbag on his left ankle made the climb even harder, but he did not stop.

When he finally reached his quarters, Dam Ho was on the verge of collapse. He flopped onto the ground, gasping for breath.

"Hah… hah…"

A sweet, metallic taste filled his mouth, and his heart felt as though it might burst. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest. But Dam Ho forced himself upright.

After a brief pause to steady his breathing, he began to move his body in various directions, loosening up. He intended to train even in this state of utter exhaustion.

The first technique he executed was the Bamboo Leaf Technique. It was the first martial art that anyone who aspired to Mount Hua's techniques would learn.

He began with Bamboo Leaf Sky Break.

Shhhk!

The Bamboo Leaf Technique as Dam Ho performed it was razor-sharp. His hands cut through the air, and his waist spun like a top.

Next came the second form—Flying Leaf Thousand Miles.

His hands rippled like waves, yet the momentum they generated was piercingly sharp.

Whooosh!

The final form of the Bamboo Leaf Technique was Leaf Piercing Sun. Dam Ho's hand flashed through the air like lightning.

Dam Ho's movements while executing the Bamboo Leaf Technique were graceful. Yet from them emanated a keen, blade-like intensity.

His movements returned to the beginning. He executed Bamboo Leaf Sky Break once more.

The air shimmered as the second form, Flying Leaf Thousand Miles, and the third, Leaf Piercing Sun, followed in rapid succession.

Dam Ho forgot the passage of time and repeated the Bamboo Leaf Technique ceaselessly.

The greatest feature of the Bamboo Leaf Technique was that it could be performed without any special footwork. At first, Dam Ho kept both feet planted on the ground, perfectly still, as he executed the forms.

When the Bamboo Leaf Technique reached its peak, Dam Ho cautiously began to move his feet.

One step forward. Then one step back.

A monotonous, back-and-forth movement—no one would call it refined footwork. Using his crippled left leg as a pivot, he stepped forward with his right. If the Elders of the Mount Hua Sect had seen it, they would have erupted in fury at such wretched footwork. But for Dam Ho, this was the best he could do.

Thud!

Each time his left foot landed, Dam Ho's face contorted slightly.

The outward wounds might have healed, but the pain remained. Yet Dam Ho deliberately ignored the pain radiating from below his knee.

'This much pain will not stop me.'

Dam Ho stamped his left foot down with greater force.

Thud!

In that instant, his momentum shifted.

The Bamboo Leaf Technique transformed into Crouching Tiger Fist. The sharp, keen energy became heavy and weighty.

Crouching Tiger Fist was a technique modeled on the movements of a tiger. Though it was now known merely as a basic exercise practiced by outer disciples, in truth it was an exceptionally well-crafted fist technique.

Dam Ho harbored a question.

'Are a tiger's weapons truly only its sharp teeth and claws? Is biting and scratching truly a tiger's greatest method of attack?'

Dam Ho believed not.

'That massive body is a tiger's greatest weapon. It is the crushing weight of that body as it flies through the air—the dizziness and overwhelming pressure—that leaves prey frozen and unable to move. If that is so, then Crouching Tiger Fist, too, must not merely involve swinging the limbs but must utilize the human body to its fullest potential.'

Shhhk!

Dam Ho's fist split the air.

To maintain the fierce momentum of Crouching Tiger Fist, one needed powerful leg strength. The stronger the technique, the greater the recoil one had to endure.

Dam Ho's footwork remained unchanged: step forward, then retreat quickly.

When Crouching Tiger Fist reached its peak, Dam Ho's movement suddenly shifted. His fists exploded outward in every direction.

Six Harmonies Fist.

Like the Bamboo Leaf Technique and Crouching Tiger Fist, it was one of the Mount Hua Sect's most fundamental fist techniques. Like the others, its variations were simple—but it carried a savage, devastating force.

Dam Ho, lost to all sense of fatigue, entered a trance-like state as he executed the three techniques in rapid succession.

Among the countless martial arts of the Mount Hua Sect, the three fundamental techniques Dam Ho was most devoted to were precisely these.

Having practiced them every day for the past five years, he could now perform them with his eyes closed. Yet Dam Ho executed them with painstaking care and precision.

In all the Mount Hua Sect, there was no one else who trained these basic techniques with such dedication. Most people desired higher-level arts, and the Mount Hua Sect possessed no shortage of such supreme techniques.

"Hah!"

The training ground echoed only with Dam Ho's harsh breathing and the sound of air splitting.

And so Dam Ho's time flowed on.

***

When Sage Hyeon-so returned to their quarters that night, he found Dam Ho collapsed on the wooden platform, having fallen into a sleep so deep it bordered on unconsciousness.

Sage Hyeon-so was not surprised. He had witnessed this scene every day for the past five years. Instead, he looked at the marks left on the ground.

On the training ground, Dam Ho's footprints remained—a perfectly straight line, tracing an unbroken path.

Sage Hyeon-so regarded Dam Ho with a look of quiet admiration. Dam Ho remained deep in sleep.

Sage Hyeon-so sat down beside him and began to massage his legs.

"A routine may bring tedium, but the training that overcomes that tedium is what forges a man into something unbreakable, Ho-ya."

Sage Hyeon-so massaged Dam Ho's legs with devoted care.

Through five years of repetition, his Meridian Massage had reached a considerable level of mastery. He kneaded the hardened muscles and gently worked the joints.

The area he paid the most attention to was Dam Ho's left foot. It was not in a normal state, and the muscles there were knotted far more severely.

The warmth in Sage Hyeon-so's hands as he worked on Dam Ho's left foot was palpable. Perhaps he felt it, for even in his deep, exhausted sleep, a faint smile touched Dam Ho's lips.

Only after confirming that Dam Ho's knotted muscles had softened did Sage Hyeon-so withdraw his hands.

"Hah!"

He exhaled deeply and rose to his feet.

The night was deep, but his work was not yet done. From within his robes, he produced a text.

Heavenly Yin Elixir Scripture.

It was a text that had lain gathering dust in Spirit Treasure Palace.

He had read it long ago. Now, for Dam Ho's sake, he took it out once more.

Sage Hyeon-so studied the Heavenly Yin Elixir Scripture until dawn. Beside him, Dam Ho slept on, deep and undisturbed.

***

Dam Ho stirred.

"Mmm!"

His entire body felt refreshed, as though he had just emerged from a hot bath. After a brief stretch, he noticed Sage Hyeon-so sleeping beside him.

"Master has done it again…"

He did not need to check to know. Sage Hyeon-so had performed Meridian Massage on him once more.

Beside Sage Hyeon-so lay an unfamiliar text, left open. Dam Ho closed the book and carefully carried Sage Hyeon-so inside.

Only after ensuring that Sage Hyeon-so was resting comfortably did Dam Ho step outside. The night sky was still strewn with stars.

The wind carried the scent of plum blossoms. Dam Ho settled onto the platform, fragrant with the scent, and began to circulate his energy. For the past several days, he had been studying the Heavy Heaven Heart Method, but this was his first time actually circulating it.

It was his first attempt, and nervousness would have been understandable. But Dam Ho hesitated not at all, falling into the meditation trance of energy circulation.

Before him stretched an untrodden path, one that no one had walked for centuries.

Dam Ho did not know what lay at its end.

The plum-scented breeze brushed gently against his body, but Dam Ho was unaware of even that.

The Heavy Heaven Heart Method was not a technique that could rapidly build internal energy. Nor was it mercurial and dazzling like the Lesser Clarity Heart Method practiced by the Main Mountain Disciples.

True to its name, the Heavy Heaven Heart Method was heavy. If the Lesser Clarity Heart Method circulated energy light and free as the wind, then the energy circulated by the Heavy Heaven Heart Method was thick and slow, like mud in a swamp. This made it exceedingly difficult to operate.

Beads of sweat formed on Dam Ho's brow. But the cool breeze quickly dried them.

Dam Ho forgot the passage of time and lost himself in the Heavy Heaven Heart Method.

When he opened his eyes again, the sun hung over Lotus Peak. He had begun circulating his energy in the early hours of dawn, and already morning had come.

Dam Ho shook his head after completing his circulation.

"This will not be easy."

With another heart method, three weeks of this work would have yielded the equivalent of one week's progress here. It meant that building internal energy with the Heavy Heaven Heart Method was three times slower than with other techniques. But because it was denser, the power produced at any given level would be far more intense.

The question was: how could he build internal energy to the same level—or beyond—of others?

Dam Ho shook his head.

"I will have to cut back on sleep."

Sleep less than others. Train harder. That was the conclusion Dam Ho had reached.

From that day forward, Dam Ho reduced his sleep further.

He allowed himself only one two-hour rest, then spent the rest of the night in meditation. Mornings he devoted to climbing Mount Hua, strengthening his body. Afternoons and evenings he spent polishing the Mount Hua techniques he knew.

And so Dam Ho's time continued to flow.

“B-but…!”

Seo Gil-pung shook his head.

“It seems I cannot grant your petition after all. Unless there’s concrete evidence, that is.”

“I was bitten by a five-colored centipede and ended up like this! Isn’t that enough?”

“How can I know if you were originally like that, or if it’s a contagious disease, or if you truly were bitten by a five-colored centipede? Besides, I’ve never in my life seen someone who survived after being bitten by a five-colored centipede. In fact, I haven’t even heard the name ‘five-colored centipede’ in several decades.”

“But still…”

“I understand how you feel, but the Martial Arts Alliance is not a neighborhood vigilante group. You’re young, so you may not understand, but to mobilize many people, there needs to be a corresponding justification.”

“Ah! I have one.”

“Hmm?”

Jin Ja-gang remembered something he had been carrying all along. He tightly gripped it in his hand, which was mottled with black spots, and held it out.

“Excuse me, perhaps this…”

“Evidence?”

“Yes.”

As Seo Gil-pung approached, Jin Ja-gang opened his hand to reveal it.

It was a shell fragment that gleamed brilliantly like a jewel.

“What?”

Seo Gil-pung’s eyes showed curiosity.

“It’s the head shell of the five-colored centipede that bit me.”

At Jin Ja-gang’s words, Seo Gil-pung looked as if he had misheard something, then backed away in horror.

Covering his nose and mouth with his wide sleeve, Seo Gil-pung shouted:

“W-why would you bring that out here!”

Seo Gil-pung suddenly seemed nauseous and even dry-heaved.

“Will this serve as evidence?”

“I understand, so put it away for now. I’ll send someone to collect it, just put it away immediately!”

Seo Gil-pung backed away and immediately left the room.

After a while, a warrior arrived with his nose and mouth covered, even wearing pigskin gloves.

The warrior, with extremely tense eyes, received the five-colored centipede’s head shell from Jin Ja-gang and placed it in a small box.

The warrior said:

“If this shell is confirmed to be from a five-colored centipede, a report will be sent to the main headquarters immediately, and within a few days, a Magistrate will be dispatched to address your grievances.”

Jin Ja-gang’s face brightened.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you!”

“The Petition Supervisor says that your testimony will be needed for the arbitration process, so even if it’s uncomfortable, you must stay here without taking even a single step outside.”

“Yes! If that’s the case, I can handle staying here for a month or two!”

The warrior left without saying anything more. He was walking carefully, as if afraid of dropping the box he held.

Watching the warrior leave, Jin Ja-gang’s eyes welled with tears. Finally, he could have his revenge.

Once his grievances were addressed and the Extreme Poison Sect was punished, he would be able to properly bury his mother and grandfather.

Until then, even if they asked him to stay here for a month or two, Jin Ja-gang felt that he could do so.

***

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Translated by Nine Heavens!

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***

Seven days and nights passed.

Despite having remarkable patience for his age, spending seven days in a small room doing nothing was by no means easy.

It was nice to eat well and sleep soundly, but that only lasted for a day or two.

Jin Ja-gang cracked open the door. In front of the small room was a medium-sized hall and courtyard, and at the entrance to the hall, a warrior stood guard.

Jin Ja-gang stepped outside the room and called to the warrior.

“Excuse me, warrior.”

From a distance, the warrior looked at Jin Ja-gang.

“What?”

“Do you know if the Magistrate has been dispatched yet?”

“I don’t know. A low-ranking person like me isn’t privy to such information.”

The warrior waved his hand as if annoyed.

“If you want some fresh air, go back inside quickly. I’ll get in trouble if you’re outside.”

“Yes.”

The Martial Arts Alliance was filled with precious people who would avenge Jin Ja-gang and Hundred Flower Valley.

Jin Ja-gang, fearing that he might suffer disadvantages if he upset the warriors, closed the door and returned to the small room like an obedient child.

Afterward, he would occasionally come out to ask about the progress, but the answers never changed. Even Seo Gil-pung didn’t show his face again, which only made Jin Ja-gang more curious about the situation.

However, after ten days had passed, the warriors’ responses began to change.

The most significant change was that the warrior who had been at the entrance to the hall was now standing right outside Jin Ja-gang’s door. Moreover, they locked the door from the outside except when bringing food.

It was behavior closer to surveillance than protection or guarding. Furthermore, the warriors hardly responded or replied when Jin Ja-gang tried to talk to them.

At most, they would only say, “It’s for your safety.” If Jin Ja-gang persisted with questions to the point of being annoying, they would even yell at him to just stay safely in the room.

As it turned out, they weren’t the same warriors who had been guarding before.

At this point, even a child who didn’t know much would find this strange.

Jin Ja-gang felt that something was going wrong.

Son Wi-hak had said that the Martial Arts Alliance was an organization full of righteous martial artists. Jin Ja-gang had no choice but to come here for revenge. Seeking out this place couldn’t have been wrong.

But thinking about it again, Son Wi-hak had never advised Jin Ja-gang to go to the Martial Arts Alliance. If he had truly thought it would help, he would have clearly told Jin Ja-gang to go to the Martial Arts Alliance.

‘So what went wrong?’

Jin Ja-gang was still too young to figure out the underlying reasons.

But one thing was certain.

Things were not going to work out as well as he had thought.

Jin Ja-gang looked around the room.

The room was simple. A bed, a chamber pot, and a small window.

For some reason, Jin Ja-gang was instinctively looking for an escape route.

Jin Ja-gang opened the window and saw a warrior right outside. When their eyes met, Jin Ja-gang smiled awkwardly and closed the window.

Jin Ja-gang went to the other corner where the bed was placed. Groaning, he pushed the bed and stood in the corner to urinate.

The branch buildings were earthen wall houses, built with mud. After waiting for the wall to become sufficiently wet, he scratched it with his fingernails, and soil and straw fell from the wall.

He wondered if this was really necessary, but somehow Jin Ja-gang couldn’t just sit still.

* * *

… It was fifteen days after Jin Ja-gang had entered the branch.

“The Magistrate has arrived.”

Finally!

Jin Ja-gang practically jumped off the bed.

Soon the door opened, and a middle-aged man with a dignified appearance entered.

He had a large sword at his waist, a broad space between his eyebrows, tiger-like eyebrows, and a firm jaw—a typically handsome face. He looked exactly like the image of a martial hero that Jin Ja-gang had always imagined.

The warrior behind introduced him:

“This is the great hero Indestructible Heavenly Sword Baek Li-jung, the Magistrate from the main headquarters.”

Indestructible Heavenly Sword Baek Li-jung!

He was a great hero known in the martial world for his high principles. He had been traveling the martial world for decades, performing righteous deeds and earning people’s respect. Even Jin Ja-gang, who knew little about the martial world, knew his name.

Jin Ja-gang was so moved that he performed a fist-palm salute.

“I am Jin Ja-gang from Hundred Flower Valley.”

Baek Li-jung nodded and stroked Jin Ja-gang’s head.

“I heard you’ve been through a lot? Now that I’m here, don’t worry.”

While others even hesitated to come close to Jin Ja-gang because of the scars and spots on his face, Baek Li-jung even touched him!

Jin Ja-gang felt sorry for having doubted the Martial Arts Alliance until meeting Baek Li-jung. Baek Li-jung’s tone and appearance were truly that of a great hero.

Baek Li-jung looked Jin Ja-gang up and down once, then said without further questions:

“A trial will be held now.”

“Now?”

“Yes. On behalf of the Martial Arts Alliance, I will clarify this case beyond any doubt and ensure that if the Extreme Poison Sect has committed crimes, they will receive the appropriate punishment.”

“Thank you!”

“However.”

Baek Li-jung’s eyes grew somewhat stern.

“If you have falsely accused the innocent Extreme Poison Sect, you will not escape severe punishment.”

Jin Ja-gang clenched both fists.

“It’s all true. I can stake my life on it!”

Perhaps because he was seeing a martial hero he had only heard about, Jin Ja-gang was more tense than usual.

Baek Li-jung stroked Jin Ja-gang’s head again.

“Good. Now prepare for the trial. We’ll call you soon, so wait just a little longer.”

Baek Li-jung left with the warrior.

Until then, Jin Ja-gang had thought he could place his hope in Baek Li-jung. His heart pounded at the news that a trial would be held immediately.

However, the moment the door closed again, he realized that nothing had actually changed.

Click!

The door was locked.

Why?

The unpleasant metallic sound of the lock isolating Jin Ja-gang from the world felt completely at odds with Baek Li-jung’s chivalrous tone and content.

Jin Ja-gang suddenly felt as if he had been thrown alone into a pitch-black cave.

All of a sudden, he heard some whispering from outside.

Jin Ja-gang put his ear to the door.

“In the end… the great hero Baek…”

“What?”

“Did you hear? Lately, there are rumors about the great hero Baek…”

“Watch your words. If someone hears, you’ll…”

It was the warriors talking among themselves, but Jin Ja-gang couldn’t hear clearly.

Jin Ja-gang became even more suspicious.

The Extreme Poison Sect had done wrong, so they should be punished, and that would be the end of it. Why should there be discussions that he shouldn’t hear?

Feeling a chill, Jin Ja-gang quickly went behind the bed. There was a small hole he had painstakingly dug by wetting the wall with urine, tea, and water. It was just big enough for Jin Ja-gang to pass through.

He crawled through the hole in the wall, which was about a handspan thick. Jin Ja-gang turned left along the wall. He already knew that if he turned right, there would be a warrior guarding near the window.

Red pine trees planted along the wall were blooming with flowers that had grain-like seeds like rice ears, emitting a sweet fragrance.

‘Pine flowers.’

Jin Ja-gang picked a few stems of pine flowers and tasted them. They were starchy and sweet.

Just then, he heard voices from the entrance gate ahead.

Jin Ja-gang quickly hid behind a pine tree.

“How can you handle a matter in such a manner!”

It was Baek Li-jung’s voice, sounding like he was reproaching someone.

It seemed that Indestructible Heavenly Sword Baek Li-jung had gone through the garden and out after meeting with Jin Ja-gang.

“I apologize. But I never dreamed that the boy would survive after being bitten by a five-colored centipede…”

“Tsk, tsk. I told you that sects with disputes face significant disadvantages when seeking admission to the Alliance.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jin Ja-gang held his breath and secretly looked out. Baek Li-jung was walking through the entrance gate with an elderly man.

“Anyway, since the boy has entered the branch and talked about the Extreme Poison Sect to the warriors and the Petition Supervisor, and a formal report has been sent to the main headquarters, we can’t cancel the trial.”

“I’m deeply ashamed.”

“For now, I’ve spoken to Petition Supervisor Seo Gil-pung. Are your preparations ready?”

“Hehe, of course they are.”

The elderly man bowed politely and pointed ahead with his hand. Following the old man’s gesture with his eyes, Jin Ja-gang almost screamed.

The young man standing there was none other than someone from Hundred Flower Valley.

‘Brother Gwak-o!’

Gwak-o bowed respectfully to Baek Li-jung and the old man. He was Son Wi-hak’s only disciple, whom he had cherished.

‘Brother Gwak-o is alive?’

The joy was extremely brief.

In the current situation, Gwak-o’s appearance carried a sense of dissonance that prevented Jin Ja-gang from simply being happy.

Baek Li-jung continued:

“I heard you played a significant role. Since everything in the trial will be recorded by the clerk, make sure not to make any verbal mistakes during the trial.”

Baek Li-jung didn’t seem particularly concerned about Gwak-o. He didn’t appear to be especially interested in who he was. Even his tone suggested it was merely a formality.

“Yes.”

Jin Ja-gang was shocked by Gwak-o’s appearance.

No matter how he looked at it, it didn’t seem that Gwak-o had appeared with good intentions.