Chapter 14

For Turan, who spent his days herding sheep on the hill, Keorn – the knight of Arabion – had presented several goals.

He always showed pride when talking about his family.

Saying they were a proud family where everyone from nobles to knights considered protecting humanity their mission.

After long deliberation, Turan accepted the proposal not just to receive a good magical device, but due to admiration born from such stories.

Though not the main family, as their vassal house, he should be able to feel their spirit.

Of course, considering his Zahar bloodline made him Arabion's enemy, he'd have to take some risk… but there shouldn't be major problems as long as he didn't reveal his stealth magic.

As the library's spirit showed, the ability to discern bloodlines was extremely rare.

The next morning, the party of two people and one horse first headed to where the battle took place.

It was to recover the bodies of the Berk family members killed by the dark elves.

Since Asiz had been unconscious all yesterday, Turan took the role of guide.

"This way."

"How do you find your way in a place like this? It all looks the same to me…"

"You'll learn quickly if you travel alone. Ah, there are those dark elves."

Asiz briefly bit his lips seeing the two headless dark elves, then quickly turned away.

Presumably, he had thought about desecrating the corpses out of anger but decided against it.

Meanwhile, Turan properly examined the bodies he hadn't checked yesterday.

The first thing that caught his eye was their black leather coats of similar style.

Judging by the craftsmanship, they seemed to be items made in a proper workshop and weren't very worn.

Second were their ears.

He could only guess from the female dark elf whose head was crushed above the forehead, but seeing both split ears were long, they seemed to be quite high-ranking.

From this, he could deduce one fact.

"There might be a path to a dark elf city nearby."

"A dark elf city? I haven't heard of such a thing in this area…"

"Since they build cities underground, it might not be known. They just dig a few connecting tunnels to the surface, and occasionally necromancers like these come out to hunt humans before hiding underground without a trace. If there are missing people in this area, many of them are probably their doing."

"Where did you learn such things?"

"I read it in books."

Turan turned his gaze away from the look that regarded him as some great sage, like he had seen several times in Orem City.

Thinking they should inform the lord of the nearby city that a dark elf city wasn't far.

Afterward, the two followed Tilly's footprints while collecting the remains of the servants one by one.

They weren't pleasant to look at, having been damaged by wild animals overnight, but Asiz's face contorted and his eyes welled up like yesterday, though he didn't cry.

While recovering belongings and burying sixteen bodies, Turan periodically used detection magic to check if dark elves were approaching.

Fortunately, no one approached until they finished making the graves.

"Seems we're about done. I'd like to send them all back to their homeland, but…"

"That would be difficult."

Despite its size, it would be hard to transport sixteen bodies with one horse.

Moreover, Tilly's back was already loaded with the luggage the servants had been carrying.

Asiz finally transformed a large stone into a square shape, carved the words 'My Beloved Family' on it, and placed it as a gravestone in front of the burial site.

Soon after, the stone that had been just an ordinary rock began to emit a soft light.

'Enchanter…'

Originally, when magic power is imbued somewhere, it doesn't maintain permanently.

Even when Turan applies strengthening and acceleration magic to his sling and stones, the effect gradually dissipates as the infused magic power scatters.

But there are items where such magic is permanent – these are magical devices, and creating them requires the enchanter bloodline ability.

After the light faded from the gravestone, Asiz spoke with a somewhat tired face.

"With limited time I couldn't put anything impressive, just a simple concealment magic to prevent animals from smelling it. I'd be sad if it was dug up when I come back later…"

On the road heading north from the grave, Turan and Asiz walked in silence with neither opening their mouth.

Turan was naturally comfortable with silence, and Asiz wasn't in the mood for conversation.

After walking like this for several hours with both keeping their mouths shut…

Around sunset, Asiz was the first to speak.

"Thank you, Lord Turan."

"For what?"

"For not mocking me."

Asiz smiled self-deprecatingly.

"A noble sobbing over the sacrifice of subordinates, must have been quite a sight."

"Why would that be a sight?"

"That's how my father taught me. That those who die in righteous battle will dwell in the celestial palace with the gods, so grieving is weak, that true nobles must know how to move forward from sacrifice… But if strength means not grieving family deaths, I don't think I can ever be strong."

"That's not weakness, it's being caring."

Turan recalled his mother's death.

That piercing sorrow, the feeling of becoming alone as his only ally in this world disappeared.

He didn't want to consider that merely a product of 'weakness.'

Though conversation stopped again, this silence felt much lighter than before.

As it grew completely dark, Asiz spoke again.

"Come to think of it, since we're traveling together, how about we speak more comfortably? We don't seem too far apart in age…"

"What? Ah, well. Sure."

"How straightforward. Looking forward to our friendship!"

When Turan awkwardly agreed to the sudden proposal, Asiz extended his hand with a smile as if they were decade-old friends.

Completely different from his gloomy appearance earlier, he seemed to be trying to forcibly lift his spirits.

'Friend, huh.'

Come to think of it, this might be the first time someone called him a 'friend.'

Turan felt a strange sentiment as he clasped hands.

* * *

Not long after opening up like this, Turan freshly realized that this 'friend' had truly lived in a different world.

He first felt this during dinner time.

"What's this…?"

"A cooling chest. I put various foods in it from the last city."

What Asiz took out from the pack on Tilly's back was a metal box large enough to fit a person.

Though it looked ordinary except for being painted red on the outside, surprisingly, cool air flowed out when the lid was opened.

"Is it always cold inside?"

"That's right! Thanks to this, most food can be kept for about a week without problems. Just need to heat up cold things."

Asiz took out bread and meat stored inside and demonstrated by creating flames to heat the food.

Though he accidentally burned it a bit – apparently knights usually did this for him – the food still tasted quite excellent.

While not as good as freshly made dishes, it was incomparable to hardtack or dried meat prepared for preservation.

Though he had grown used to rough food while camping outdoors, he too preferred eating tasty things when possible.

This wasn't the only magical device Asiz had.

A device that produces water at the push of a button, one that automatically creates a small shelter when given surrounding wood, one that sounds an alarm when someone approaches…

When he learned that even the clothes they wore were magical devices with cleaning functions, Turan couldn't help but comment.

"Just that clothing alone would be enough payment for my life."

Magical devices were absolutely not common items.

Taking Orem City as an example, only the family head Rug owned a few, and even those were considered family treasures rarely taken out.

Yet this young noble seemed to carry magical devices hanging all over his horse's luggage…

Hearing this, Asiz smiled awkwardly and said.

"Such items aren't worth my life. I promise much better compensation when we return home. If the elders don't allow it, I'll make it myself."

Though Turan nodded silently at the promise of better things, he didn't actually expect much.

Isn't it human nature for attitudes to change between times of need and not?

He wouldn't be disappointed even if Asiz tried to settle with some cheap magical device after safely returning home.

He would just throw their newfound friendship in the trash and make him pay the price when he gained enough power someday.

After about a day and a half, Turan and Asiz arrived at Maderi, the largest city in the area.

The police guarding the entrance disappeared in shock at the sight of Tilly, who was clearly a monster, and soon after, people who appeared to be knights came rushing out in droves.

"We greet the descendants of gods!"

Apparently here they called nobles descendants of gods.

Immediately invited to the mansion in the city center, Turan and Asiz met with the family head and informed him about the likely presence of a man-eating dark elf city nearby.

"Dark elves…? Did such things really exist?"

"Yes. We brought a head just in case – would you like to see it?"

"No, no need. That would just spoil my appetite. Well, alright. I'll have to order some patrols. But more importantly, that monster you brought – any interest in selling?"

"No, Tilly is like family to me…"

Unfortunately, this ruler didn't seem to pay much attention to the two nobles' words.

Since there was no particular way to convince him, the two received hospitality for about two days before leaving the city and heading north again.

On the fifth day after leaving Maderi and heading north…

When Turan casually incinerated an attacking ordinary black bear with a lightning spell for practice, Asiz spoke incredulously.

"Hey, Turan. Just how many types of magic can you use?"

"Hm?"

"I mean, I've lost count of how many kinds I've seen while traveling together! From animal control to freezing, levitation, liquid control, enhancement, light emission, binding, instant death, earth manipulation, lightning… Did you spend your whole life practicing magic? Or do you have some bloodline ability that lets you learn any magic at will?"

Some of the magic Asiz mentioned was self-taught, but the rest was all taught by Keorn.

For Turan, such a reaction was rather unfamiliar.

Wasn't it normal to be able to activate magic just by imagining it, as long as it wasn't bloodline magic, with only the level of proficiency being an issue?

Of course, he had struggled somewhat when first hearing from Keorn that such techniques existed.

But thinking it might seem too arrogant to just say "it just worked," Turan slightly changed the subject.

"We agreed not to pry about my family, right?"

"No, that was just a joke. There's no way such a ridiculous bloodline ability could exist. But really, how old are you? Your face looks under thirty, surely you're not like eighty or something?"

"Hm?"

"Eh?"

When Turan showed confusion at Asiz's words, Asiz also seemed to sense something odd and stopped speaking.

"How old are you?"

"I turned forty-three this year, probably."

"I have about a month until my nineteenth birthday…"

Asiz's expression upon learning his new friend wasn't even half his age was truly something to behold.

And Turan was also shocked to learn that Asiz, who looked only a few years older than him, was around the same age as the wrinkled village elders.

Come to think of it, even Keorn had appeared to be in his mid-to-late forties while actually being over seventy.

For nobles who live several times longer, it was natural for appearance and actual age not to match.

It was a fact he had forgotten, not having deeply associated with nobles until now.

"Well, a mere twenty-one or two years' difference isn't important between us… No, more importantly, explain that magic ability. How is it possible? Hearing your age makes it even more incomprehensible? There wouldn't have been enough time even if you practiced from the womb!"

Due to the persistent questioning, Turan simply answered that he had consistently practiced magic since childhood, and that's how he could achieve this level at a young age.

It wasn't exactly a lie.

His way of killing time on Hisaril Hill had been playing with magic in all sorts of ways.

Hearing this explanation, Asiz kicked a roadside stone with a dejected expression.

"Man, I should have realized when you said you finished off two necromancers with that level of magic power. Who'd have thought there'd be two such geniuses in the world."

"Two?"

Asiz nodded at Turan's question.

"Yeah, maybe not quite your level. No, perhaps similar? That bloodline is what it is, after all. Anyway, I know another genius around your age. She's my second cousin."

"Could I possibly ask that person to make my magical device?"

A device made by a genius enchanter would probably be better somehow.

Asiz shook his head with a smile at Turan's words.

"No, she's not from our family but from the main house."

"The main house… surely not?"

"That's right. The princess of Arabion. Someone who might become the head of the great family someday.”

Chapter 14: Sometimes Unexpected Guests Arrive (2)

Senior Brother Mu-gyeong recognized Dam Ho and stammered.

"J-Junior Brother. Are you all right?"

"I am much better."

Dam Ho answered in a voice devoid of all emotion. Mu-gyeong's face tightened at the cold response.

It was not only Mu-gyeong. Most of the Mount Hua disciples gathered before the Cloud Mist Palace wore the same expression.

For the past year, not a single one of them had visited Dam Ho. Of course, there were reasons they could not speak of, but that did not erase the guilt they felt.

"How have you been all this time?"

"Treating my wounds."

Dam Ho's answer was brief. From his detached tone, Mu-gyeong sensed that he had no desire to exchange further words.

"Hmm!"

Mu-gyeong could find nothing else to say and simply scratched his head.

At that moment.

"So this one is also a disciple of the Mount Hua Sect."

A quiet voice accompanied someone approaching Dam Ho and Mu-gyeong. Their gazes turned toward its owner.

She was a young woman who looked slightly younger than Dam Ho. Her features were refined and elegant, her figure graceful, and her deep eyes and serene gaze left a lasting impression.

Dressed in robes as white as snow, her delicate beauty was all the more striking.

A puzzled light rose in Dam Ho's eyes. He had never once seen her within the Mount Hua Sect.

'A newly taken disciple?'

But the reply he received was entirely different from his guess.

"My name is Yeon So-ha, a disciple of the Wudang Sect."

"Wudang?"

"This time, I have come to visit Mount Hua with my Master. And you?"

"Cheong-gyeong."

"Are you a disciple of the Mount Hua Sect as well?"

"He is indeed a First Generation Disciple of the Mount Hua Sect."

It was Mu-gyeong who answered.

Yeon So-ha nodded at his words.

"I see. It is a pleasure to meet you, Young Hero Cheong-gyeong."

Dam Ho offered a slight bow.

For an instant, a glint of interest flickered in Yeon So-ha's eyes. He carried an air somehow different from the other Taoists of the Mount Hua Sect she had seen.

Dam Ho looked to Mu-gyeong. He was asking why Yeon So-ha was here.

Mu-gyeong explained.

"As you can see, people have come from the Wudang Sect."

"What is the matter?"

"I am not sure. They arrived suddenly…"

Mu-gyeong was just as much in the dark.

Dam Ho's gaze shifted to Yeon So-ha. She smiled.

"I am not yet in a position to say."

Her eyes turned toward the Cloud Mist Palace.

Within the Cloud Mist Palace, Sage Hyeon-cheon sat facing a Taoist of similar age. He was a Taoist who exuded an air quite different from those of the Mount Hua Sect in many ways. Wearing a Taoist cap upon his head and robes adorned with the Eight Trigrams emblem, he radiated an authority far from ordinary.

Sage Hyeon-cheon and the Taoist sat facing each other, both smiling. Yet their smiles were tinged with a certain stiffness.

Then Sage Hyeon-so entered.

"Grandmaster, you summoned me?"

"Come in, Brother."

Only then did Sage Hyeon-cheon relax his rigid expression and offer a smile.

"What is the matter?"

"First, allow me to make introductions. This is Sage Cheong-heo of the Wudang Sect."

"Wudang?"

A look of surprise crossed Sage Hyeon-so's face. But politeness came before questions, so he offered a fist-and-palm salute.

"I am Hyeon-so of the Mount Hua Sect. Sage Cheong-heo."

"A pleasure to meet you, Taoist Hyeon-so. I am Cheong-heo of the Wudang Sect."

Sage Cheong-heo rose from his seat and returned the salute.

"What brings the Wudang Sect to our humble mountain?"

"Please, sit first. Sage Cheong-heo will explain."

At Sage Hyeon-cheon's words, Sage Hyeon-so took a seat.

Sage Hyeon-so had little interest in the affairs of the martial world. Had he been even slightly more knowledgeable about current events, he would not have remained so composed upon seeing Sage Cheong-heo.

Sage Cheong-heo was the most distinguished martial artist the Wudang Sect had produced in decades. He was particularly renowned for his swordsmanship, and his achievements were said to be sufficient to contend for the title of Hubei's foremost swordsman.

Sage Cheong-heo gazed intently at Sage Hyeon-so. Though his stare was somewhat unsettling, Sage Hyeon-so did not avoid it.

Suddenly, Sage Cheong-heo smiled.

"Amitabha! They said you were the Grandmaster's Junior Brother, and your Daoist power is truly remarkable."

"To speak of Daoist power in a dull-witted old Taoist like me—too generous by far."

Sage Hyeon-so waved his hand dismissively. A faint flush crept across his austere face. In that moment, he looked like a child overcome with shyness.

"He whose virtue is thick returns to the babe. One who has accumulated deep virtue naturally becomes childlike."

At Sage Cheong-heo's words, a furrow formed between Sage Hyeon-cheon's brows.

'Sage Cheong-heo of the Wudang holds my Junior Brother in such high regard?'

Sage Cheong-heo was known throughout the Wudang Sect for his lofty reputation. Not only was he skilled in the sword, but he was also deeply versed in the Taoist scriptures, which added to his prestige.

To hear such praise from a man of this caliber, Sage Hyeon-cheon could not help but look upon Sage Hyeon-so with new eyes.

Sage Hyeon-so, his face flushed red, spoke hurriedly:

"Then what business brings the Wudang Sect to our mountain?"

"I have been remiss in my manners. The truth is, we have come because we require the Mount Hua Sect's assistance."

"You require our assistance?"

"Yes. Most urgently."

A look of doubt crossed Sage Hyeon-so's face.

Both the Wudang and the Mount Hua Sects were members of the Nine Great Sects. But their current standing could not have been more different.

The Wudang enjoyed its greatest prosperity, while the Mount Hua Sect had only just emerged from its decline, preparing to soar once more.

In terms of influence in the martial world and the strength they possessed, the Mount Hua Sect could in no way compare to the Wudang. For so powerful a sect to say it needed their help—naturally, he was puzzled.

"What exactly has happened?"

"Well…"

A troubled look appeared upon Sage Cheong-heo's face. It was Sage Hyeon-cheon who answered in his stead.

"It seems traces of the Demonic Cult have been discovered."

"The Demonic Cult?"

Sage Hyeon-so's eyes widened as though they might split. He stared at Sage Cheong-heo in disbelief.

"It is true… I know it is hard to believe, but their traces appear to have been found."

"What do you mean?"

"An outer disciple of our sect was running the Northern Road Escort Agency. Its caravan was attacked by unknown assailants and completely wiped out."

"That…"

"Everyone perished. Only a single escort named Lim Ho-ryeong survived, and he sent a message. 'We were attacked by the Demonic Cult.'"

"The Demonic Cult…"

Sage Hyeon-so slowly closed his eyes. His eyelids trembled.

The single word "Demonic Cult" carried countless meanings, and the fear lurking beneath it had seized his mind once more.

How could he forget that name?

Decades ago, the entire martial world had been drenched in blood because of that name alone. Countless people had died, and numerous sects had been annihilated.

The sects of the martial world had united to drive out the Demonic Cult. After more than a decade of warfare, they had at last destroyed it. The blood shed and sacrifices made in that struggle were beyond the power of words to describe.

"Is it truly the Demonic Cult?"

"That is what we must verify."

"What?"

"We cannot proclaim to the world that the Demonic Cult has returned based on a single message alone."

"So we must verify the truth ourselves?"

"Correct."

"Then why come to us?"

"We need your help. The Northern Road Escort Agency was wiped out in Shaanxi Province, which is closest to our current position."

"And so…"

"We have also sent people to the Zhongnan Sect. They will surely send reinforcements as well."

"Hmm!"

Only then did Sage Hyeon-so understand why Sage Cheong-heo had personally come to the Mount Hua Sect.

Whether it truly was the Demonic Cult that had attacked, they could not say. But shouldering that burden alone was too great a weight for the Wudang Sect to bear.

Sage Hyeon-cheon spoke:

"The Mount Hua Sect has accepted the Wudang's request and will dispatch disciples."

"Then why am I—"

Sage Hyeon-so looked puzzled.

If the Grandmaster had decided, that was that. There were many strong martial artists in the Mount Hua Sect, and they would surely prove useful to the Wudang's efforts.

The problem was that he was a mere Scholar Taoist who knew no martial arts. He could not fathom why the Grandmaster had summoned him.

"You must go."

"What?"

"As you know, the war against the Demonic Cult ended over twenty years ago. In the present martial world, few still carry the memory of that time. Even fewer can recognize the Demonic Cult's martial arts from the traces they left behind."

"And you want me to go?"

"Indeed. Though you have not practiced martial arts, your knowledge is second to none, is it not? You should still be able to tell."

"Y-yes."

How could he forget? While collecting the bodies of his Master, the Heaven Vault Master, and countless others, those memories had been seared into him.

The wounds left by the Demonic Cult's martial arts—he could identify them even with his eyes closed.

Sage Hyeon-cheon nodded and looked to Sage Cheong-heo.

"Sage Hyeon-so is our Scholar Taoist. His duty is to record and remember everything. With his knowledge, he can determine whether they are truly of the Demonic Cult."

"That is fortunate. We thought the Mount Hua Sect, which fought most fiercely against the Demonic Cult, would know them best."

"Your kind words are deeply appreciated."

In that instant, a cold smile touched Sage Hyeon-cheon's lips. Seeing it, Sage Cheong-heo realized his mistake.

Sage Hyeon-cheon's voice grew cold.

"I trust the elders of your sect are well?"

"They are… quite well."

"While they still live, treat them well. Do not lose them all at once and be left with regret, as we were."

A look of discomfort crossed Sage Cheong-heo's face. But it was brief—he quickly restored his original composure.

"I will certainly keep the Grandmaster's advice in mind."

"My thanks. For not taking offense at the ramblings of this useless old man."

"How could I? All your words are offered for our sect's benefit."

"You may depart at first light tomorrow. By then, I will have prepared the disciples to be dispatched."

"If there is fighting to be done, the Wudang will take the vanguard. So please, do not worry."

"I am most grateful."

Sage Hyeon-cheon's gaze now turned to Sage Hyeon-so.

"Mu-gyeong and Un-gyeong will go with you."

"They are the Grandmaster Disciple and the Third Disciple of the Mount Hua Sect. You would send them both at once? If anything should happen to them, the Mount Hua Sect will have no future."

"That is precisely why they must go. If the Mount Hua Sect is to lead the way, must they not overcome such dangers on their own?"

"Hmm!"

At Sage Hyeon-cheon's resolute answer, Sage Hyeon-so fell silent.

He saw in Sage Hyeon-cheon's eyes a firmness and resolve born of deep purpose. Sensing his gaze, Sage Hyeon-cheon smiled.

"Do not worry so. The Wudang and the Zhongnan Sects will be there as well. There will be no danger."

"Very well. Then I will descend the mountain. And…"

Sage Hyeon-so paused, hesitating for a moment. Sage Hyeon-cheon and Sage Cheong-heo looked at him with puzzlement.

After a brief hesitation, Sage Hyeon-so finally spoke:

"I wish to bring my disciple along as well."

Jin Ja-gang woke from a short, restless sleep, his entire body throbbing with pain.

When he opened his eyes, the cave was bright. It must have been morning.

But the floor felt wet and sloshy.

“Ouch!”

The hot spring water had risen and was touching his skin, reddening the areas it touched.

Startled, he sat up and looked outside—the hot spring water had risen all the way up to the mouth of the cave.

The water level was much higher than the previous night.

Flustered, Jin Ja-gang looked into and out of the cave in turn.

He had to decide.

Should he swim out through the hot spring, or…?

But just touching the water was agonizing. The keratin on his skin would melt away instantly—he couldn’t even imagine trying to swim through it.

On top of that, he had no strength left in him. The hot spring wasn’t very wide, but if he lost strength halfway, he’d sink—and if that happened…

Jin Ja-gang shuddered at the thought. The idea of dying was frightening, but what scared him more was dying without doing anything.

He turned his body and crawled deeper into the cave. Luckily, the cave sloped slightly upward, which reassured him.

The hot spring water kept climbing, lapping at his feet as he crawled slowly.

Once he’d climbed far enough, the spring water stopped rising.

But the inner cave was still filled with sulfur fumes and steam.

He was desperately hungry now. His stomach growled, and he was parched. The swelling in his throat had gone down, and the hole there had mostly closed, but each breath burned his lungs and the stifling, acrid air remained hard to endure.

Dizzy, Jin Ja-gang collapsed onto the cave floor.

Crunch.

He felt something under his hand.

“Hmm?”

Thankfully, the faint light reflected in the water that had filled the cave reached the far end of the cave, giving him some visibility. Depending on that dim light, Jin Ja-gang checked what he’d touched.

It looked yellow, almost like a lump of sulfur, but with a strange, moldy, mossy appearance.

He tore off a piece with his fingers, and it split easily along natural lines—surprisingly familiar in texture. The stuff grew in steps along the cave wall and floor.

“A mushroom?” 

Hurriedly, Jin Ja-gang picked the mushrooms.

Even if they were poisonous, he could eat them. He’d survived Mang-ryo’s poisonous mushroom porridge, so these couldn’t be worse.

Just before devouring a handful, he forced himself to pause and took a small bite to taste first.

Sour, bitter, spicy, and a little chalky.

Despite the cave being full of sulfur fumes, these mushrooms had an especially sharp sulfur smell.

“Are these sulfur polypore mushrooms?”

Back in Hundred Flower Valley, sulfur polypore was sometimes processed for medicinal use. Usually, it grew on wood.

Naturally, eating it raw meant there was some toxicity, and his stomach burned. But it wasn’t so bad that he couldn’t handle it.

After waiting a while with his hunger gnawing at him and no severe reaction, Jin Ja-gang finished the remaining mushrooms in his hand.

Chomp, chomp.

They were soft and chewy—not unpleasant.

His whole stomach burned, but the hunger faded, and he felt a bit of strength returning.

With so many sulfur polypore mushrooms everywhere, food wouldn’t be an immediate worry.

But he was parched.

The hot spring water lapped at his feet, but after his experience the previous day, he knew he mustn’t drink it.

Still, temptation grew.

“Maybe… just a little wouldn’t hurt, right?”

He was so thirsty that he decided to risk it. He leaned down and dipped his hand into the hot spring.

Zing!

It immediately felt as if his skin was dissolving.

“Hrk!”

He jerked his hand out, feeling a burning pain.

The hot spring water was undrinkable. Forget the poison; it might literally melt his throat and stomach.

“I need water…”

Going without water much longer could be fatal.

A thought suddenly came to him.

If steam collected, then condensed into droplets, maybe he could drink those.

Holding his breath, Jin Ja-gang reached slowly up the ceiling. But the sulfur polypore mushrooms made the cave dry.

He crawled further in.

The cave grew narrower, until his shoulders almost stuck.

Plip.

He heard the tiny sound of a water droplet.

He spotted a small stalactite hanging from the ceiling. Beneath it was a tiny puddle.

There was barely enough water to fill a ladle.

Jin Ja-gang sniffed the puddle. It smelled surprisingly pleasant. Definitely a scent of sulfur, but not acrid or harsh—almost an auspicious, uplifting fragrance.

Just to be sure, he dipped in a finger and tasted a drop. It was slightly bitter but clean and crisp.

He waited a while, ready for any reaction, but nothing happened.

Only then did Jin Ja-gang bend down and take a full mouthful.

Gulp.

A refreshing sensation trickled down his throat into his stomach. The gentle fragrance of sulfur lingered in his mouth.

That alone quenched his thirst and soothed the stomach pain from the mushrooms.

It was remarkable.

But…

“Why do I feel so sleepy?”

In any case, this was a place no one would likely find.

For the first time in ages, Jin Ja-gang relaxed and let himself fall deeply asleep.

***

Read only at nineheavens.org

Translated by Nine Heavens!

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***

He survived by eating mushrooms and drinking the fragrant puddle water in the cave for a while.

For some reason, every time he drank the fragrant cave water, he grew very sleepy, falling asleep day and night. But every time he woke, he felt incredibly refreshed.

Feeling his body recover day by day, Jin Ja-gang continued this routine inside the cave.

He had plenty of experience with waiting and enduring. If need be, he was prepared to stay there until everyone had forgotten he existed.

* * *

A week passed since Jin Ja-gang’s escape.

Mang-ryo tore at a chicken drumstick, ripping the meat in big mouthfuls. The tender, boiled chicken skin tore apart easily.

Chomp, chomp.

He ate as if furious.

Sitting across from him was Hidden Dragon Bell Sa Heung-sam, who looked at Mang-ryo’s crude eating and tutted.

“Elder Mang, are you taking out your anger on your food? Let it go already. That brat’s dead, surely. After a week, he must’ve dissolved into a puddle of poison down there.”

“What? You think he’s dead?” 

Fire glinted in Mang-ryo’s eyes.

“He’s not dead! He’s definitely still alive! He’s hiding somewhere in the Mixed Spring Ground!”

Suddenly, Mang-ryo sprang up and hurled the chicken leg to the ground, spitting on it.

“Pah! Pah! Pah!”

Not satisfied, he stomped on it with his dirty boots.

Then he picked it up and tossed it into a small wooden bucket beside him, spitting on it again.

The bucket was already filled with discarded food—roast pork, boiled meat, all thrown away with barely a bite taken.

The disgusting sight made Sa Heung-sam lose his appetite. Frowning, he put down his chopsticks.

“Geez! If you’re going to eat, finish your food. What’s the point of that?”

He walked out, abandoning his meal.

Servants soon came to clear the dishes.

Mang-ryo pointed at the wooden bucket beside the table.

“Give that separately to Gwak-o to throw away.”

“Yes, Elder.”

Mang-ryo grinned, satisfied.

“Heh heh heh! Let’s see how long you last, brat. Even you’ll end up eating this when you’re starving!”

* * *

When Jin Ja-gang woke, he felt the cave grow hotter. It must have been nighttime, raising the earth’s temperature.

Conveniently, the hot spring water in the cave had almost completely drained, so for the first time in a long while, Jin Ja-gang crawled to the entrance for some fresh air. At night, the spring’s water level had dropped to beneath the cave floor.

Drip. Drip.

The sulfur crust, slowly melting, was breaking off and falling into the hot spring. As time passed, the floor grew hotter, and the rate at which sulfur and waste from the Extreme Poison Sect melted into the hot spring increased.

Plop, plop.

Sulfur and all sorts of waste dumped from the sect fell into the spring.

But then a savory smell caught Jin Ja-gang’s nose. Amid the ever-present sulfur stench, it was the only normal scent.

“Huh?”

Jin Ja-gang stuck out his upper body and looked around the hot spring.

It had been so long since he’d smelled real food that saliva pooled in his mouth.

A flat wooden bucket, half-broken, was floating nearby—emanating the savory aromas.

Inside were thrown-away scraps of food. The hot spring wasn’t wide, so if he stretched out as far as he could, he might just reach it.

“Urgh.”

Jin Ja-gang braced himself, grabbed a cow bone, and leaned out, drawing the bucket close.

Inside were leftovers. The bone of what looked like a whole roasted pig, picked clean, and a chicken stripped to the bones.

There was no meat left.

“They must’ve had a real feast.”

It had been so long since he’d tasted real food that just smelling the bones and roasted fat made his mouth water.

He put his nose to the bucket and inhaled deeply.

Even just the bones still carried the aroma of meat and fried fat.

“Chh.”

He wanted to eat, but there was nothing there.

Jin Ja-gang turned the bucket upside down, shaking out the bones, letting go of his longing, and rinsed the bucket with hot spring water.

“I was uncomfortable without a proper toilet anyway—this will do.”

* * *

It had been nearly a month since Jin Ja-gang began living in the cave.

For a while, nothing changed—he just ate, slept, and waited.

A month spent fumigated in steaming sulfur vapors in that tight cave.

His skin regularly burned, peeled, and scabbed.

But a few days ago, the scabs began to cover his whole body. Now, Jin Ja-gang found himself completely covered in hideous, pitch-black scabs.

He absently scratched his arm and peeled off a scab.

For someone like Jin Ja-gang, who had endured so much pain, the sting of peeling a scab was nothing.

But strangely, this time it didn’t hurt at all. Running his hand along his skin, the scab just sloughed off like an old snakeskin.

Even more surprising was what lay underneath.

Pale white skin.

“…There’s no blood.”

Just a few days ago, if the skin had come off, it would have revealed red flesh, oozing with blood.

He scratched somewhere else, and more black scabs peeled away, revealing the same pale, smooth skin.

He scratched his chest and stomach. Wherever scabs fell, only whiteness showed—no more dark marks from the Five Toxins, no scars from all the venomous bites.

The new skin was smooth and soft, almost like that of a newborn, with not a blemish or scar in sight—actually so pale as to seem almost sickly.

When he touched his face, he felt it was covered with scabs too. His hair felt odd—he realized his scalp was also crusted over, and as he rubbed the scabs free, clumps of old hair came off.

He was scared for a moment—but then, feeling his scalp, he discovered new, short hairs sprouting underneath where the scab and old hair had come away. His hair had all fallen out, but fresh hairs were growing in its place, which didn’t seem like a bad sign.

“…?”

“What is happening?”