Chapter 7

In one day, Turan caught a total of seven masu while patrolling around the city.

He felt like he could become addicted to the thrilling pleasure that came with absorbing magic power from dead masu corpses.

It was almost disappointing to think that once he reached his limit for absorbing magic power, he wouldn't be able to feel this pleasure anymore.

Of course, consuming masu wasn't just about this base pleasure.

Around the time he absorbed the fifth masu's power, Turan's magic power had grown about 1.5 times stronger than before meeting Keorn.

At this rate, theoretically he could become dozens of times stronger in just a few months of hunting, but…

'It won't be that easy.'

Magic power growth through absorption decreased with each repetition, and it was difficult to grow stronger using weak masu's magic power.

Moreover, staying in one place hunting would naturally deplete the masu population.

That's why strong nobles would go on pilgrimages to find masu worthy of their level?

Therefore, Turan captured alive rather than killed two of the weakest ones he found, which weren't even worth absorbing.

A squirrel with a tail five times thicker than its kind that it used as a weapon, and a badger that was somewhat larger and could change its fur color to match its surroundings.

When he brought them tied up with rope to city hall, the official in charge widened his eyes.

"Two of them?"

"Yes. They're perfectly fine except for one stone hit to the head. Together that's 25 rum bounty, correct?"

"Well, about that…"

The official trailed off as if trying to pull something, but when Turan glared at him with wide eyes, he quickly handed over the money.

"Here you go."

This enjoyment of earning money was another thing he learned after coming down from the hills.

With 25 silver coins in his pocket, he returned to the inn where the serving girl greeted him with a smile.

"Young brother! You came back alive? Will you have dinner here too? Bread and soup again?"

Turan was about to order the cheapest menu like this morning but changed his mind.

Since he could earn money whenever he wanted anyway, he wanted to find out why expensive food was expensive.

"Give me the most expensive one."

The serving girl's eyes widened at Turan's words.

"Wow, looks like you earned some money! I'll tell the chef!"

Though he hadn't known, it took a full hour just to prepare the inn's most luxurious menu.

But seeing the food placed on the table made the wait worthwhile.

Fresh soft and savory wheat bread with tart fruit jam, whole roasted chicken basted with seasonings, and pork ribs topped with sizzling cheese…

For a shepherd who had lived his whole life eating smelly mutton and grain porridge on the desolate hills, it was an astounding array.

Before he knew it, while frantically chewing and tearing into everything enjoyably, all the food on the table had disappeared without a trace.

"…Someone didn't steal this, right?"

"Of course not. But brother, you're so skinny yet eat so well!"

"It makes me happy to see someone enjoy such a rare feast so much!"

Even the chef who usually rested in the back kitchen came out to say this – it seemed this menu didn't sell well normally.

Anyway, thanks to this he discovered the pleasure of fine dining.

* * *

After about three days passed this way, Turan had succeeded in catching over thirty masu.

Though he only collected proper bounties for five of them, even that was enough to gather over a hundred silver coins, some of which he exchanged for gold coins for convenient storage.

His improved proficiency with tracking magic contributed to these excellent results.

After several experiments, he learned that when targets weren't in range, he could track them by finding their traces.

Taking the first Blade Crow he caught as an example, he would target 'droppings of crows larger than children' and move in the direction where the droppings continued to find the masu.

While Turan was flourishing like this, Midan's group seemed to have little success, grumbling darkly about how they might not even be able to pay their room fees at this rate.

One day, two of Midan's sworn brothers followed Turan as he went up to his room to rest, raising their fists threateningly.

"Hey, skinny!"

"Heard you're earning good money lately? Share some with your colleagues."

Naturally, in less than a minute they were thoroughly beaten by Turan and rolled down the stairs.

After a brief commotion, hearing the whole story, Midan bowed to Turan on their behalf.

"I sincerely apologize. I'll strictly scold both of them. This will never happen again…"

"Are things very difficult?"

At Turan's question, Midan hesitated before answering honestly.

"We are short on money."

Midan and his sworn brothers were originally gangsters from a large city of over 100,000 people, but after meeting someone who became a magician by catching masu 2 years ago, they quit being gangsters and switched to masu hunting.

But not only was it difficult for ordinary people to catch masu together, the reality was that unless it was strong enough to be identified as a masu just by looking at the corpse, bounties weren't paid for corpses.

So they were barely surviving by doing odd jobs while traveling between cities to hunt masu.

'To think it took them 2 years to catch three.'

Well, how much could they hunt when they weren't even professional hunters, let alone magicians, but originally gangsters?

Plus it would be difficult to spend all day if they needed side jobs for living expenses.

Hearing this story, he could understand why officials treated masu hunters like thugs.

How could they look kindly on people who lived pursuing just one uncertain possibility while others worked diligently?

"Honestly, in about three days we'll have trouble paying for rooms. This city is too small, there aren't many odd jobs we can do. But I don't want to beg from a young friend. After causing this trouble, asking for money would be shameless…"

"Here."

Turan searched his clothes and handed him ten silver coins.

Enough money for four people to stay at the inn for about three days with some haggling.

Midan looked at him with an expression of disbelief.

"Why?"

"Even though times were tough, you tried to include me because I looked dangerous traveling alone. This is repayment for that."

The moral code Turan learned from his mother was simple.

Treat others as you wish to be treated, and repay both kindness and enmity as received.

From that perspective, Midan's past kindness was worth enough to repay with a few silver coins.

The misdeeds of his subordinates had already been repaid with fists.

"Still, it feels wrong to just take this…"

"If you feel uncomfortable just taking it, how about giving me some information? Stories about cities you've traveled to while hunting would be good."

Information must be bought with money – this was common sense Turan learned after coming down from the hills.

Through Keorn's teachings he roughly knew how the world was shaped and where the great houses were located, but didn't know the detailed circumstances of each region.

At this suggestion, Midan's face brightened.

"That's not difficult at all!"

Having wandered various cities looking for masu for 2 years, Midan knew quite a lot.

Not only did he draw simple maps showing how to get to other nearby cities, he even recommended masu to catch there – though Midan meant it as warnings to avoid them.

As masu were becoming scarce around Murei city, such information was quite valuable.

Just roughly hearing "there's a city that way" like last time was enough once.

Other stories were also very useful, like which cities had ancient imperial ruins, or which magician houses didn't allow wanderers to pass through their territory without permission.

What particularly caught Turan's interest was the existence of a library in a relatively nearby large city.

"You're saying there are thousands of books?"

"That's what I heard. Though I couldn't go in myself."

Though Turan had learned reading and writing from his mother, he had never read a book.

Naturally, the Hisaril hills and surrounding villages were too poor to have books.

Sometimes Turan's mother would lament.

Saying there were books she wanted to read to him but could no longer remember their contents.

Because of this, books were vaguely idealized in Turan's mind as mysterious things containing all the world's wisdom.

But according to Midan, the library in Orem, a city relatively close to the northeast, had over a thousand such books?

Plus the entry condition was merely-

"If you're a magician, you can enter…"

"Well, we'll be able to go in someday when we become magicians too!"

Turan awakened to a new desire he hadn't known he had, beyond desire for money and food.

It was the desire for knowledge.

Living his whole life on the hills, he hadn't known…

He wanted to know more about what kind of place this world was.

"Is this worth enough?"

"More than enough."

He had been thinking of hunting just one more day before leaving this city, but now he knew where to go next.

* * *

In stark contrast to ending things so well, the next afternoon when Turan went out for his final hunt, he encountered one of Midan's subordinates with his belly split open, coughing up blood.

With his eyes half-glazed, he clearly looked beyond saving.

"What happened?"

"Rabbit, masu… monster…"

"Where's Midan?"

"Over there…"

Where he pointed lay a familiar shaggy head rolling on the ground.

As if terribly wronged, Midan lay dead with his strangely clear eyes wide open.

Behind him were two more corpses with bodies torn apart.

Finally, a rabbit the size of a cat with red eyes was glaring at Turan while gnawing on something.

With front teeth long enough to touch the ground and grotesquely developed thick hind legs, it saw Turan and immediately charged at arrow-like speed.

"Ugh!"

When he hurriedly threw himself aside to dodge, the rabbit couldn't control its speed and passed by Turan, but amazingly the tree it had run into collapsed with a cracking sound.

More precisely, the part caught by its front teeth had been cleanly cut off.

'What the…'

Since it looked too dangerous to test various things against, Turan immediately brought out his trump card.

Stone throwing using his ever-present sheepskin sling.

The stone empowered by magic flew at the rabbit faster than sound, but amazingly it deflected it by swinging its long front teeth.

One shot, two shots, and three shots.

Turan clicked his tongue at the opponent's ridiculous reflexes.

It seemed he had encountered an enemy immune to physical projectiles, as Keorn had warned about, sooner than expected.

[Keeek!]

As if mocking that this was all he had, the rabbit made a grotesque sound while preparing to jump again by putting strength in its hind legs.

At that moment,

[Keek?]

The rabbit had to stop in its tracks because Turan suddenly disappeared from that spot.

A phenomenon where a presence right in front of it vanished instantly?

Though the rabbit had become smarter after gaining magic power, such a situation was difficult to understand.

Did he run away? How? Where is he now? There's not even a scent to chase…

Thanks to standing still pondering such questions, Turan was able to approach the rabbit while concealed and stab a dagger under its chin.

[Keeeeeeeek!!]

Turan quickly twisted the dagger stuck under its chin once then let go of the handle and threw himself backward.

If he hadn't, he would have been torn apart by the enraged rabbit's swinging front teeth.

The rabbit desperately jumped around swinging its front teeth trying to attack the invisible enemy, but its enemy had already flown into the sky while concealed.

After about a minute of cutting down surrounding trees, the rabbit finally couldn't find its enemy and collapsed from exhaustion.

Only then did Turan cancel his concealment and land on the ground with a sigh.

"Whew…"

Just when he thought he had dealt with all the strong masu in this area, to unexpectedly meet such a formidable enemy.

Though its small size made it seem somewhat lacking in defense, its speed, attack power, and reflexes were more threatening than the first leopard masu he met.

He felt that the pre-Keorn Turan, who only had stone throwing as a proper attack technique, might have been defeated.

Actually absorbing its magic power, far more came in than when he caught the leopard.

'Really unlucky.'

Since this one wasn't among the registered masu at city hall, it had probably mutated recently.

Midan's group had been careless thinking it would be easy to catch because it was in rabbit form and not large, leading to their annihilation.

What would they have felt if they knew this rabbit's true identity was something that could instantly kill even decent nobles if they were careless?

After assessing the situation, Turan approached the hunter with the torn belly.

He was still conscious, and having seen Turan fight, wore an astonished expression.

"You, no, you're… a magician…"

"Yes."

"Why…"

Since explaining why he hid his identity would be long-winded and meaningless, Turan shook his head and asked instead:

"Do any of the four have family to leave belongings to?"

"No…"

Shortly after, Turan buried the dead masu hunters in a sunny spot near the forest.

Four dirt mounds were the final portion given to those who wanted to become magicians.

Chapter 7: The Disciple Looks to the Master, the Master Comforts the Disciple (Part 1)

The winner of the first bout was Seo-myeong.

Seo-myeong had used the Falling Plum Blossom form of Plum Blossom Fist to neutralize Un-gyeong's Seven Star Sword Technique.

Sage Hyeon-geom offered no comment after the match ended and simply moved on to the next bout.

Winners and losers were separated. Joy and sorrow diverged.

The winners rejoiced at the possibility of inheriting Sage Hyeon-geom's insights, while the losers fell into despair. A strange, feverish heat filled True Martial Palace.

The desire for victory, the yearning to become strong—it consumed reason bit by bit. Even Mu-gyeong, who was not participating in the sparring, had a feverish gleam in his eyes.

Dam Ho frowned.

In his five years at the Mount Hua Sect, he had never witnessed such a strange fervor. The Mount Hua Sect was fundamentally a martial sect, but it was also a Taoist order. As such, a tranquil atmosphere had always dominated. But now it burned with a feverish intensity.

'Did you intend this? This kind of atmosphere.'

Dam Ho looked toward Sage Hyeon-geom at the edge of the training ground.

Unlike the air of near-madness that pervaded the hall, Sage Hyeon-geom stood as composed and cold as he had been from the start.

Perhaps sensing Dam Ho's gaze, Sage Hyeon-geom turned his eyes toward him. The instant their eyes met, Dam Ho felt as though invisible awls were boring into his skull, and he staggered. But he did not look away.

At Dam Ho's reaction, a flicker of interest crossed Sage Hyeon-geom's eyes. But it lasted only a moment—soon his gaze returned to the training ground.

There, Han So-yu was fighting another First Generation Disciple.

In her hands, the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword technique unfurled. Each time her ice-white hands moved, plum blossoms seemed to bloom in the air. Her opponent, meanwhile, was driven back, step by retreating step.

Even Dam Ho, who knew little of sword techniques, could see that it was a beautiful and efficient application of the art.

"Ohh!"

Exclamations burst forth from all around. But Sage Hyeon-geom's brow was slightly furrowed, as though something did not please him. Most people were too absorbed in Han So-yu's battle to notice.

Schwing!

At last, Han So-yu's sword slashed through the hem of her opponent's robe, and the match was over. The defeated disciple looked down at the long, clean cut across his chest.

Had the blade been two inches deeper, he would no longer be of this world.

"Martial Sister, I thank you for your restraint."

"You fought well, Junior Brother."

The two exchanged the customary courtesies and returned to their positions.

Dam Ho watched Han So-yu, her cheeks flushed with exertion, as she took her place beside Mu-gyeong.

'Martial Sister's Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword is remarkable. To unfold the techniques with such fluid grace.'

Han So-yu was perhaps the only person who could execute the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword in such a manner. Being a woman, she lacked the physical strength of her male counterparts, and this was her way of compensating.

Even with the same martial art, the power produced varied enormously depending on the insight one gained and the manner in which one applied it.

She was not yet perfect, but Han So-yu was finding her own path in the Plum Blossom Sword.

Dam Ho was genuinely surprised by her skill—far beyond what he had vaguely imagined. But he did not feel envy. Though he was slower, he believed that one day he too would reach that level.

Then Sage Hyeon-geom's voice rang out.

"Next are Su-gyeong and Cheong-gyeong."

Hearing his own name called, Dam Ho raised his head.

Su-gyeong was among the strongest of the First Generation Disciples. His personality was extremely resolute and his manner blunt, which was why many of the Second Generation Disciples feared him.

Dam Ho stepped onto the training ground. Sage Hyeon-geom watched him approach with a slight frown—he had noticed the faint limp in Dam Ho's step.

Dam Ho clasped his fists and bowed to Su-gyeong.

"Senior Brother."

"To think my opponent would be you, of all people."

Su-gyeong's expression twisted with displeasure.

Honestly, Su-gyeong wanted a worthy opponent against whom he could demonstrate his skill to Sage Hyeon-geom. Defeating a cripple was nothing to boast about.

Su-gyeong looked to Sage Hyeon-geom. His gaze asked: May I refuse to fight him? Whether he understood the intent or not, Sage Hyeon-geom walked forward to stand before Dam Ho.

"Cheong-gyeong."

"Yes!"

"So you are the disciple that Hyeon-so took in."

"That is correct."

"Hmm."

Sage Hyeon-geom's gaze grew even colder.

Dam Ho's eyes darkened in response. No further words were spoken, but he could feel that Sage Hyeon-geom looked upon him with disfavor.

"You may leave now."

"…?"

"Did you not hear me? Leave."

"May I ask… the reason?"

"Do you truly not know?"

"I do not."

Dam Ho's answer was so direct that a chill began to circulate in Sage Hyeon-geom's gaze. Though that gaze was fearsome, Dam Ho did not retreat.

Sage Hyeon-geom studied Dam Ho for a moment, then clicked his tongue.

"You have quite the nerve. A man should have at least that much. But you carry a fatal flaw as a martial artist."

"Because of my leg?"

"That is correct."

At the expected answer, Dam Ho's pupils wavered. On one hand, he could not suppress his disappointment. He had hoped that the greatest martial artist of Mount Hua might see things differently—but Sage Hyeon-geom was no different from anyone else.

"My sword is not so simple that a cripple can learn it."

In Sage Hyeon-geom's voice was a fierce, proud confidence in his own blade. But Dam Ho's heart was being torn apart.

Dam Ho's eyes widened.

"I, too, am a First Generation Disciple of the Mount Hua Sect."

"If you are a Scholar Taoist's disciple, then the Scholar Taoist's path is the proper one for you. If you walk that path, you too will receive the respect of the sect's scholars, as Hyeon-so does."

"Are you telling me to abandon martial arts?"

"Have you not already experienced your own limits? You must have tried everything to overcome your physical shortcomings."

Sage Hyeon-geom's gaze fell to Dam Ho's leg. Though hidden by his robes, his right leg was visibly far more muscular than any other disciple's. It was evidence of the fierce effort and training he had endured. But by comparison, his left leg was pitifully thin.

"No matter how much you train, a severe physical imbalance can never be fully overcome. You will never reach the highest levels. Rather than continuing to expend futile effort, you would do better to find another path early. That is the only advice I can offer for your sake."

"That is impossible."

At Dam Ho's resolute reply, Sage Hyeon-geom's brow furrowed.

An ordinary person would have been cowed by his gaze alone, yet Dam Ho did not flinch. Sage Hyeon-geom appreciated that iron will—but selecting a disciple to receive his insights demanded a different kind of cold rationality.

"You will not back down?"

"At the very least, I want the same opportunity as everyone else."

"Very well. If your will is that strong…"

Sage Hyeon-geom's patience with Dam Ho's stubbornness finally gave way to anger.

He stepped back and addressed Su-gyeong.

"Spar with him."

"But—"

"Show the boy reality. That, too, is for his own good."

"I… understand."

At Sage Hyeon-geom's firm command, Su-gyeong nodded reluctantly.

Su-gyeong raised his fists toward Dam Ho.

"Do not blame me, Junior Brother."

He assumed the opening stance of the Five Element Unusual Fist—one of the supreme arts of the Mount Hua Sect.

Based on the principles of the Five Elements, it was difficult to learn, but once mastered, a single punch could shatter a massive boulder.

Dam Ho inhaled deeply and assumed the opening stance of the Bamboo Leaf Technique. It was the martial art he had practiced the longest. Its power could not compare to the Five Element Unusual Fist, but Dam Ho trusted his own Bamboo Leaf Technique.

Han So-yu's face drained of color at the sight.

"Will he be all right? Should we not stop this? He cannot possibly withstand the Five Element Unusual Fist with the Bamboo Leaf Technique."

"It is the decision of Sage Hyeon-geom himself. No one can overturn his decision."

Mu-gyeong's expression was grave as well. But there was nothing he could realistically do.

Sage Hyeon-geom was a figure so powerful that even the Grandmaster, Sage Hyeon-cheon, could not treat him lightly. Mu-gyeong could not possibly reverse his decision.

Un-gyeong added:

"Sage Hyeon-geom is right. We must make Cheong-gyeong face reality while there is still time."

"Senior Brother?"

"How long will you let him keep dreaming? Think again about what is truly best for Cheong-gyeong."

At Un-gyeong's cold logic, Han So-yu bit her lip.

In that instant, Su-gyeong and Dam Ho clashed.

Tak-tak!

Their fists collided.

The watching First Generation Disciples' eyes went wide. They had expected Dam Ho to be sent flying in a single blow, yet he was blocking the Five Element Unusual Fist with remarkable effectiveness.

"Was Cheong-gyeong always at this level?"

"The Bamboo Leaf Technique holding its own against the Five Element Unusual Fist?"

They murmured in astonishment.

The most surprised of all was Su-gyeong himself, who was fighting Dam Ho directly. The rebound force he felt from Dam Ho's hands was far from ordinary.

The fact that Dam Ho could withstand the Five Element Unusual Fist using the most basic technique of the Mount Hua Sect was astonishing—and, to Su-gyeong's pride, galling.

'Dare you!'

Su-gyeong's brows shot upward.

Tak-tak-tak-tak!

His hands moved even faster. The air seemed to fill entirely with his fists. It was the Wood Conquers Earth Strike—one of the ultimate forms of the Five Element Unusual Fist.

As its name suggested, it was a form in which the energy of Wood consumed and killed Earth.

"Kuh!"

The impact transmitted through his hands made Dam Ho grunt. But he refused to give ground.

Su-gyeong's technique was dazzlingly intricate. By contrast, Dam Ho's Bamboo Leaf Technique was very simple. But it was solid—as solid as his unyielding will.

'I am not wrong.'

Dam Ho clenched his teeth.

He wanted to prove that even with a crippled leg, he could fight without hindrance.

Wham!

In that instant, Su-gyeong's fist crashed into his side. The blow was so fierce it nearly stopped his breath, and Dam Ho's face contorted. But even in that moment, he executed the Bamboo Leaf Technique and struck Su-gyeong's chest.

Thud!

Su-gyeong's expression changed. The blow carried almost no internal energy, so there was no real damage—but he had never expected to allow Dam Ho a single clean hit.

Boom!

Suddenly, Dam Ho's momentum shifted. He abandoned the lightness of the Bamboo Leaf Technique and embraced heaviness. He had transitioned to Crouching Tiger Fist.

Dam Ho pivoted on his left foot, stepped forward with his right, and unleashed a devastating punch.

Wham!

The strike crashed into Su-gyeong's forearm. Su-gyeong's arm swelled almost immediately. He had taken unexpected damage from a blow he had never anticipated.

Su-gyeong's expression changed. He stole a glance to the side. Sage Hyeon-geom's displeased face was visible. If he lost face in front of Sage Hyeon-geom now, the chance of becoming his disciple would be gone forever.

'Damn it! I did not want to do this, but—'

Su-gyeong's movement changed.

Plum Blossom Step—a footwork as elusive as plum blossoms scattered by the wind.

Su-gyeong circled around Dam Ho. Dam Ho anchored himself to the ground with his left foot as a pivot, focusing on defense. But against Su-gyeong's Plum Blossom Step, he was outmatched.

Su-gyeong advanced and retreated in rapid succession. His unpredictable movements threw Dam Ho's timing into disarray. Seizing a fleeting opening, Su-gyeong drove forward.

Fire Conquers Metal Strike—the form in which the energy of Fire subdued and killed Metal—struck Dam Ho square in the chest.

Kwahh!

Dam Ho's body was sent flying backward.

Jin Ja-gang froze in shock, then, seeing the cane, was paralyzed in terror.

At the tip of the birch cane was a dried stain of blood. Behind it stood a man, supported by just one leg, the other having been cut off above the knee.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The voice sounded gentle, but the strong hand gripped Jin Ja-gang’s hair and yanked him out of the hole.

“Ugh!”

Jin Ja-gang struggled, but it was useless.

It was Mang-ryo.

“Boy, when an elder asks a question, you should answer.”

With a pleased look, Mang-ryo gazed at Jin Ja-gang, smiling with his face but with killing intent shining in his eyes.

“So you’re the bad little child that’s been running away, aren’t you?”

“Let go! Let go!”

“No, no. You didn’t do anything wrong—it’s those damned healthy legs that are at fault, running all over the place.”

“No, please!”

Jin Ja-gang, sensing something chilling in Mang-ryo’s tone, screamed, but no one came to help.

Mang-ryo tossed Jin Ja-gang onto the ground and, just as he had crushed Son Wi-hak’s corpse, he struck at Jin Ja-gang’s shin.

“You wicked leg!”

Crack!

With a single blow, Jin Ja-gang’s tender left shin snapped cleanly.

“Aaaaagh!”

He tried to endure the scream, but the pain of his bone shattering and splintering was impossible to withstand.

“Ahh, ahh… uh…”

In an instant, his whole body was drenched in sweat.

He went limp, his arms and legs trembling uncontrollably.

“After punishing the bad leg, you’ve become a good child now, haven’t you?”

Mang-ryo laughed loudly and slung Jin Ja-gang over his shoulder.

Only then did warriors rush in from all sides, but they merely watched and did nothing.

Step, step.

Mang-ryo hobbled along, carrying Jin Ja-gang as he left the branch.

He began to recite poetry, evidently in high spirits.

“With one cup of wine, the rising moon becomes a beautiful lady. With two cups, the blue waves of the river turn into cherished friends.”

As he hummed and quoted verses, Mang-ryo’s mood soared.

“If friends in Luoyang ask about me, tell them a piece of my pure heart is kept inside a jade bottle.”

Jin Ja-gang, his entire body bound, lay atop a cold stone bed.

It was a large, sealed room.

All around hung bundles of dried herbs and mushrooms, bamboo cages filled with captured insects, and countless scrolls, bamboo slips, and books were scattered on the floor.

“On a clear day when rain falls on and off, does it seek to break the soul of every traveler on the road?”

Mang-ryo, humming and reciting every poem he could remember while searching for something, made Jin Ja-gang shiver.

He could sense what was coming next.

***

Read only at nineheavens.org

Translated by Nine Heavens!

https://discord.gg/XC9DTsTQ9Z

***

That morning, Jin Ja-gang, unable to so much as move a finger, had been dragged all the way to the Extreme Poison Sect.

For the five days of travel in the carriage, Mang-ryo had, to Jin Ja-gang’s bewilderment, made sure he ate three meals a day without fail.

“Did you think I would just kill you? Not at all—not at all. How could I waste such a precious material? Someone who survived being bitten by the Five-Colored Centipede—isn’t your body a rare treasure?”

He would say this, then force spoonfuls of meat and soup into Jin Ja-gang’s mouth. Jin Ja-gang, unable to chew or even breathe properly, was forced to swallow everything.

But despite feeding him so well, Mang-ryo never bothered to treat his broken leg. He drove the carriage so roughly that the shattered bone pushed through the flesh. Whenever Jin Ja-gang groaned from pain, Mang-ryo seemed pleased.

That Mang-ryo was searching for something now could only mean he was about to inflict more torment on Jin Ja-gang.

“Well, if I do anything too severe at the start, you might become useless, so I’ll keep it simple for the first day.”

Eventually, Mang-ryo found what he was looking for—a grayish gourd bottle. He approached Jin Ja-gang.

“Your body’s flow of energy is completely blocked. What will you do with such a body? You can’t live like that. I’ll just make good use of you for a very long time.”

Mang-ryo held the bottle out, and from its neck, a venomous centipede poked out its head.

“Behold, the Black Centipede. Of course, the Five-Colored Centipede would’ve been a hundred, a thousand times more valuable, but some b*st*rd—who deserves to be torn apart—killed it. What a shame, but let’s see what this one can do instead.”

“Uhh! Uhh!”

Jin Ja-gang twisted his body, desperate to get away, but his limbs were bound to the stone bed—he could only move his head. Perhaps Mang-ryo had done it on purpose, so he’d see everything that was about to happen.

The black centipede crawled over his toes and up his leg. Wherever it passed, thin red streaks appeared as if sliced by a razor, quickly swelling up—since even the feet of a centipede carry poison.

Madness glinted in Mang-ryo’s eyes.

“Hold on, now—this is the broken leg. What’ll happen if I let it bite here? Will the leg refuse to heal? Will it rot? Or maybe it’ll heal even faster?”

“Uhh! Uhh!”

“Worried you’ll never be able to use that leg again? Don’t worry. I’ve lived with only one leg and I get by just fine.”

Jin Ja-gang shook his head desperately, but that only provoked the centipede, causing it to bite deep into his injured leg.

The stabbing pain was just like when the Five-Colored Centipede had bitten him.

“Aaaargh!”

But this time, pinned down and unable to resist, he couldn’t tough it out. His head spun, his chest tightened, and his mind grew cloudy.

***

When Jin Ja-gang came to, Mang-ryo was examining his mottled body.

Jin Ja-gang looked down at his leg. There was some oozing around the bite, but no other clear symptoms.

“Interesting. The black centipede’s poison hasn’t spread, it just faded away at the spot.”

Mang-ryo scowled, displeased to see Jin Ja-gang awake.

“Tch, you lost consciousness too quickly and I didn’t get any results at all.”

He blamed Jin Ja-gang, though it was hardly his fault.

“It seems I’ll need to make some special preparations.”

He paced, thinking, when a Poison Sect warrior entered.

“Elder, it’s time for the meeting.”

“I know.”

Mang-ryo came over and gently patted Jin Ja-gang’s head.

“You’ve had a hard time, so rest today. Good job.”

The falsely affectionate words made Jin Ja-gang’s skin crawl.

Perhaps he’d be allowed to rest for today.

Just as Jin Ja-gang felt a touch of relief, Mang-ryo, who had almost left, turned back.

“No, wait. Why waste time resting? Maybe the poison didn’t spread because it was your bad leg. Let’s try the healthy one.”

He retrieved the bottle again and approached.

“Uhh…”

The black centipede crawled up his right leg, stabbing Jin Ja-gang sharply with its stinger.

“Aaaargh!”

Mang-ryo’s laugh mingled with Jin Ja-gang’s screams, echoing through the room.

***

When the pain swelled until it felt like his body would burst, Jin Ja-gang would sometimes faint—and, fortunately, when he came to, the pain was significantly lessened. His body was drenched in cold sweat, lips parched, but he told himself he could endure it.

No matter how long he had to live like this, one day he would escape and get his revenge. Jin Ja-gang clenched his teeth and steeled himself.

But Mang-ryo was not about to let him be.

***

Late at night.

Jin Ja-gang, dozing fitfully, was jolted awake by a sudden stabbing pain in his leg.

Crack!

“Aaaaaaaagh!”

Mang-ryo stood over him, brandishing his cane. The leg that had just begun to heal was shattered once more.

The agony was indescribable.

“Arrrgh! Aaaaagh!”

Ignoring Jin Ja-gang’s howls, Mang-ryo’s eyes burned with rage as he raised his cane again.

He brought it down over and over, raining blows on Jin Ja-gang’s helpless, bound body.

“Because of you, I’ve been driven out! Me! I’ve worked night and day at the forefront, striving for the Poison Sect’s rise in the martial world! But now, I’m crippled because of you!”

The madness in Mang-ryo’s eyes deepened.

Thud, thud!

With his arms and legs tied, he was helpless to defend himself.

Ribs broke, organs were bruised, and soon he was coughing up blood.

He wanted to yell, “It was you who attacked Hundred Flower Valley!” but the pain was so consuming he couldn’t utter a word.

“The head of the sect told me to retire from the field. Can you believe that? I worked so hard, and because of you, everything’s ruined!”

After venting his anger, Mang-ryo finally lowered his cane, seeing Jin Ja-gang lying motionless.

Panting, Mang-ryo seized Jin Ja-gang’s hair and pulled his face close.

“You… I’ll never let you die easily. You’ll live and pay the price for this for the rest of your life!”

Even as Mang-ryo snarled, Jin Ja-gang forced himself to smile.

“Heh…”

A spark of fury flashed in Mang-ryo’s eyes.

“Argh!”

With a roar, he struck Jin Ja-gang’s head with the tip of his cane.

Bang.

As darkness descended, Jin Ja-gang’s senses and sight faded into nothing.

***

When he awoke, white daylight streamed in through the window, suggesting it was already midday.

“Are you awake?”

Mang-ryo, using a gentle voice, applied ointment to Jin Ja-gang’s battered body.

“Thinking it over, I was a bit harsh yesterday.”

Jin Ja-gang’s skin crawled.

His whole body, covered in bruises and mottling, was covered with poultices as Mang-ryo looked on with a pitiful expression.

“There, drink this too.”

Mang-ryo handed him a decoction.

As the liquid entered his mouth, he felt a tingling on his tongue—or perhaps not just tingling, but his entire mouth growing numb. His head grew heavy, his stomach queasy, and slowly his body began to seize up.

When Jin Ja-gang looked at Mang-ryo in terror, the old man smiled kindly.

“I’ve mixed refined pufferfish poison into a decoction for clearing blood stasis. Since ordinary poison doesn’t work well on you, I added ten times the normal amount.”

Pufferfish poison.

Jin Ja-gang, unable to move now, found even breathing growing difficult. His chest was so tight he could only manage the barest gasp to keep himself alive.

He began to cough up white froth as his breathing grew more labored.

“I’ll be away for a few days. Don’t go anywhere, alright?”

Mang-ryo didn’t even wipe Jin Ja-gang’s mouth, just watched him for a moment with satisfaction, then left.

He heard Mang-ryo close the door.

Alone in the room, Jin Ja-gang experienced a terror like death by suffocation—the room empty, and time dragging on.