Chapter 12

Turan was born with the bloodline of the Zahar family, also known as the Pursuer or Hunter bloodline.

Its main characteristics were excellent sense of smell and reflexes, and the ability to use tracking and stealth magic more easily than others.

Among these, the stealth ability was particularly powerful, allowing not just invisibility but complete evasion from all living beings' perception abilities.

However, while Zahar was one of the counted powerful families, it was far from being absolute rulers.

Even in the war with the Arabion family that Keorn belonged to, though they had some advantage, they couldn't claim victory.

So how could Turan, not even a direct descendant but born between a knight and commoner, be so special?

"Could you tell me more about my bloodline?"

"Shouldn't you ask your parents about such things?"

"I'm an orphan."

"Is that so?"

While a human might have added meaningless words of sympathy, the spirit just accepted it and moved on.

Turan wasn't looking for sympathy anyway, so it didn't matter.

"Hmm, shall I check for you then? Just agree to let me examine your body."

"Yes."

With consent given, the librarian immediately thrust his finger into Turan's chest.

Being an illusion, there was naturally no pain.

After a while of changing expressions as if seeing something with closed eyes, the librarian exclaimed.

"There are some minor ones, but the main bulk is Pursuer, Hunter. This must be the Zahar family trait? The ones living in the desert?"

"Yes."

Since the other party had no ability to leak information anywhere, Turan readily admitted the truth.

But even after discovering this, the librarian seemed to see something more and exclaimed.

"Oh? Oho… there's another one! It's mixed!"

"Mixed?"

"The power you possess is the result of two bloodlines combining. You know what that means? There was related content in the books I recommended."

At those words, Turan recalled the book about magician families he had read on the second day.

There was definitely related content written there.

Bloodline combination.

Noble bloodline abilities usually pass down to children either completely or in weakened form, but rarely they become stronger.

This happens when abilities from parents with different bloodlines combine to bloom into more diverse and powerful abilities.

Like a bloodline that can handle both water and ice being born between water-controlling and ice-controlling bloodlines, or a bloodline that can heal both wounds and diseases being born between wound-healing and disease-healing bloodlines.

Families that became founding houses through such powerful combinations of multiple bloodlines were called great houses.

"Then what's the other one?"

"That I don't know. It's still locked. Probably will unlock as you grow stronger."

The librarian said such 'locked bloodlines' were one of the symptoms occurring in the first generation of newly combined bloodlines.

In other words, half of Turan's power definitely came from his mother's side.

'Mother…'

In Turan's memories, his mother was always gentle and elegant, but also visibly tired.

Having to work as a shepherd, a job difficult even for strong men, while raising a child alone, she couldn't help but be tired.

No matter how he thought about it, she didn't seem like she could have been a magician.

But thinking again, she was too well-mannered and knowledgeable for a mere commoner.

Not just around Hisaril Hill where Turan lived, but even in cities like this, those who could freely read stories were limited.

Perhaps she was a descendant of some noble family.

One whose bloodline had become so diluted she couldn't even possess knight-level magic power.

After a long time of organizing his thoughts, Turan finally rubbed his face with both hands and said.

"Alright, I understand roughly. Thank you."

One of Turan's goals when starting his journey was to trace his parents' footsteps.

To find out why his father, who was said to be a 'good person', didn't live with his family, who he was and where he was, and why his mother had to flee with Turan to the western edge of the world.

And thanks to what he learned this time, Turan received even stronger motivation.

That answer would probably be in the Enril Desert, the land of the Zahar family that made up half of Turan's bloodline.

* * *

After discovering the library spirit's identity, Turan didn't just immerse himself in solitary reading, but asked about the books' contents and requested explanations.

Above all, the librarian knew even the knowledge contained in books that had been plundered from the library over thousands of years, and the 'natural laws' he taught directly were nothing short of treasure, since all the books were lost.

"Are there really that many invisible small substances?"

"Yes. If you make water float in the air and shape it like this, you can see for yourself."

When he created an oddly shaped water droplet in front of his eyes as the librarian instructed, amazingly, objects appeared magnified several to dozens of times.

Through the following explanation, Turan learned that all kinds of diseases arise through such microorganisms, and that the decay of organisms is caused by these bacteria's consumption.

That wasn't all.

Light refraction, heat generation from friction, the principles behind how organisms get injured and heal…

Many of these were related to the principles of magic he had learned from Keorn.

For example, while before he only knew that lightning magic became easier to use when there were many clouds, now he understood why.

There were some fields that even the librarian didn't fully understand or could only teach superficially, but even that was enough to change Turan's perception of the world.

Moreover, this knowledge didn't just end with knowing.

"Then, I'll experiment with decay first."

When Turan touched an apple he had brought from outside with his finger, the apple quickly began to rot after a short while.

As if time had been accelerated hundreds of times.

"How is it?"

"Amazing…"

While such magic wasn't impossible before, both its effectiveness and magic consumption were terribly inefficient.

But now it was different.

Just by simply understanding the principle of decay, Turan could achieve this using far less magic power.

His magic ability improved just by changing how he perceived the world.

As if he had instantly 'mastered' such magic.

Turan chuckled at a sudden thought.

"The Rug family head was wrong."

"About what?"

"He said there were no amazing ancient magic or secrets to increasing magic power in this library."

Though the librarian didn't actually know such knowledge, these principles were even better secrets than those.

He thought perhaps some powerful families might be monopolizing such knowledge.

Since their competitiveness would decrease if all magicians knew these things.

The librarian agreed with this thought.

"I wondered why people's knowledge level seemed to keep declining over time, but if what you say is true, it makes sense."

The natural laws the librarian taught Turan came from books written directly by the Frea divine tribe during the old empire's existence.

After the empire's fall, such books became extremely rare.

"Come to think of it, you said this library was built during the old empire era. Was your creator, who made you, a god?"

"Yes. The Lame Goddess created me. Actually, most of the old empire's legacy was probably created by her. Even among gods, few had creative talent."

The Lame Goddess.

She was the greatest blacksmith and architect among the Frea divine tribe, who created all sorts of powerful treasures and palaces used by the gods.

Because of this, families that created magical devices all claimed to be her descendants.

"Did you ever converse with the goddess?"

"If you're going to ask what kind of being she was, I'll answer in advance that I don't know well either."

His creator, the Lame Goddess, gave the librarian his mission to protect after creating the library and immediately disappeared.

As if too busy to delay even a moment.

When Turan sighed in disappointment, the librarian chuckled.

"Don't be so disappointed, you fool. There are many divine legacies in this land. Perhaps among them there might be spirits who, unlike me, were close to the gods."

After ten enjoyable days of receiving direct teachings from this new teacher while chatting…

Turan bid farewell to the librarian.

"You're leaving?"

"Yes. The owner of this place has been openly hinting at it."

Though any loss from Turan staying would amount to just some minor food expenses, the Rug family head seemed annoyed by having the prey he missed constantly lingering before his eyes.

He briefly regretted not leaving some room instead of outright rejection, but Turan soon dismissed such thoughts.

Going that far wouldn't have been proper as a guest.

"I see."

The librarian's impassive face showed no trace of disappointment or frustration at parting with a conversation partner found after many years.

Turan could freshly feel that his words about being able to wait another thousand years weren't empty talk.

"Then, I'll see you again."

"Come if you want to, don't if you don't."

"There are still many books I haven't read."

Actually, there wasn't much reason to visit the library anymore.

He had acquired most of the common knowledge he'd need in life, and had learned pretty much all the 'natural laws' the librarian knew that would help with magic.

But Turan intended to return here someday.

He wanted to tell more stories about the outside world to this old teacher who could wait for a very long time, perhaps even longer than he remembered.

* * *

After briefly greeting the Rug family head, Turan immediately left Orem City.

The clothes he wore were neither the rags from when he first arrived nor what he wore as a guest of the Baltas family.

White shirt and stiff but sturdy pants, durable leather shoes and a hooded cloak that could cover his head.

Far from looking like a noble aristocrat, wearing all new clothes made him look like a wealthy traveler.

Though the worn sheepskin backpack at his waist looked somewhat out of place.

According to the continental map obtained from the library, the Zahar family's stronghold, the Enril Desert, was about a month or two's journey east from Orem.

There was no need to hurry anyway.

If any clues about his parents were going to disappear, they would have disappeared during the past eighteen years, and if they remained, they wouldn't disappear just because he arrived a bit late.

Turan repeated walking the road and hunting monsters detected by magic to gain power, just as he had before coming to Orem.

He deliberately took winding routes and avoided large cities, having experienced how troublesome it was to visit other families as a guest.

If he had done this without a map, he would have completely lost his way.

The difference from before was that he now paid some attention to hygiene even while traveling.

After living cleanly once, he wanted to maintain it somewhat, and moreover, after recognizing the existence of microorganisms, living dirty felt uncomfortable.

Since there was plenty of water in nearby streams and he had brought a bar of soap, he could maintain reasonable cleanliness, though not as much as when the maids had taken care of him.

After about nine days of walking like this…

Turan's tracking magic once again caught traces of a monster.

Judging from hoofprints larger than a palm, it was probably a horse that had mutated into a monster.

But when he approached while hiding at a suitable distance, he saw a strange sight.

[Neigh-!]

The red-haired horse roaring in front of a large tree was, true to being a monster, about one and a half times taller than an ordinary person at shoulder height.

Behind it, a person leaning against the tree appeared unconscious, bleeding from the head with closed eyes.

At first it seemed like they had been attacked by the monster, but looking closely, it was actually protecting the fallen person.

With a saddle on its back, it was probably this man's pet monster.

And right next to the two, a man and woman in unfamiliar dress were having an ominous conversation.

"Damn devil, how can a mere pet monster be so strong?"

"Try to find an opening somehow."

"Easier said than done!"

They seemed to want to break through the horse's defense and finish off the fallen man.

Moving closer, Turan was surprised to realize they weren't human.

Dark purple skin, silver hair, vertically elongated ears…

They were dark elves, beings he had only encountered in his mother's fairy tales and books.

Chapter 12: Walking Together (3)

Dam Ho knelt, his shoulders heaving.

His lungs were fully expanded, drinking in the fresh air, and his heart pounded as though it might burst. He gripped both trembling legs with his hands, trying to still their shaking.

Once his breathing had calmed somewhat, Dam Ho raised his head and looked ahead. He could see the boulder with the circle drawn upon it.

Day after day, he leapt toward that boulder. And leapt again.

His goal was the small circle painted on the stone. He had leapt countless times, striving to drive his fist into it.

At first, not only did his fist fail to reach the circle on the boulder, he repeatedly veered far off the line drawn upon the ground.

To leap properly. To leap straight.

To do that, he had to understand his body's condition with absolute clarity. The angle of his leg's curvature, the movement of his muscles when he pushed off the earth, and the weight they could bear—he had to know it all.

It took nearly a month just to orient himself properly. Only then did he begin to incrementally increase the distance.

That was when the true hell began.

To push off the earth with all his might using a twisted leg—the pain was beyond describing. His entire leg contorted, his muscles tearing as though they might rip apart.

Yet he clenched his teeth and leapt. He tried to grow numb to the pain. And then, from some moment onward, he truly could not feel it. No—he had simply forgotten it.

It took one month to extend the distance to one zhang—three meters—and two more months to double that. And today, Dam Ho at last drove his fist into the circle upon the boulder.

The proof was the blood flowing from his fist. His skin had been torn away upon impact with the stone.

"Ha!"

Dam Ho rose to his feet.

He had only just ascended the first step. Countless steps still remained. He could not sit and rest simply because he had climbed one.

Dam Ho extended the line from the boulder farther still. Another zhang added to the distance.

'Faster. Harder.'

This was not a matter of simply reaching the boulder.

He needed to infuse his fist with force and internal energy powerful enough to shatter that massive stone in a single blow.

Crack!

Dam Ho launched himself toward the boulder once more.

Droplets of his sweat scattered through the air.

Even when night fell, Dam Ho could not rest.

He consumed a Nourishing Essence Pill and cultivated the Heavy Heaven Heart Method. Within his dantian, his internal energy accumulated more with each passing day.

Beside the cultivating Dam Ho sat Sage Hyeon-so.

Before Sage Hyeon-so lay an open book. It was a blank volume, devoid of any writing.

Sage Hyeon-so began to move his brush across its pages. Upon the empty white paper, human figures took form, and words were written.

For the past four months, without a single day's rest, he had discussed martial arts with Dam Ho. As a result, they had crystallized a clear direction and concept.

Now he was in the process of recording their work. Not a single character could be written in vain.

This was a book for Dam Ho. However well he knew it in his mind, however deeply his body had learned it, seeing it written in words was something else entirely.

"Ha!"

At last, Sage Hyeon-so set down his brush.

The volume that had been empty moments ago was now densely filled with illustrations of a person performing martial arts and accompanying small text.

Sage Hyeon-so gazed at the book he had created for a long while. In his eyes, a thousand emotions swirled.

"I do not know if I am doing the right thing."

The martial art inscribed in the volume was steeped in killing intent—so much so that one could hardly believe it had been born within the Daoist Mount Hua Sect.

Perhaps it was because Dam Ho's nature inclined that way, and perhaps it was because Sage Hyeon-so's own heart had been stirred when they first began creating the art.

He had wanted to show something to the Grandmaster and Sage Hyeon-geom, who had dismissed Dam Ho. That was why he had brought forth the Blood Heaven Kick, long kept hidden, and labored to fuse it with other miscellaneous techniques.

They were martial arts unrelated to the Mount Hua Sect, and so he had felt no hesitation. But as time passed and his heart grew calmer, he was able to view everything with cold clarity.

If the martial art in the book were ever completed, it would possess tremendous power. For the art it contained harbored none of the compassion a Daoist school should possess.

"I must have been blinded by rage. To fill a martial art my disciple would learn with such dense killing intent."

Sage Hyeon-so shook his head. But he did not worry overmuch.

It was still only a concept, nothing more. They had established barely a handful of forms, and there was no telling when it would be completed.

At the very least, it would take decades. At worst, it might require another generation. Creating new martial arts was that arduous a task.

By the time Dam Ho completed this new art, he would likely be well advanced in years. And by then, the fury and killing intent seething in his blood would have subsided to some degree.

"Hah!"

At that moment, Dam Ho, who had been cultivating in silence, finally opened his eyes. A light flickered within them before fading away.

He seemed at last to grasp the true nature of the Heavy Heaven Heart Method.

The energy accumulated through the Heavy Heaven Heart Method was infinitely heavy. Simple, yet weighty. Weighty, yet not sluggish.

Without the aid of the Nourishing Essence Pills, he might never have attained this understanding so quickly.

Dam Ho now understood with certainty why his Master had him cultivate both the Heavy Heaven Heart Method and the Blood Heaven Kick.

The two arts fit together as naturally as if they had always been one. If both were brought to completion and fused into the art they were now creating, the result would be devastating.

Sage Hyeon-so looked at Dam Ho and smiled.

"When you are able to condense that heavy energy into your fist, no one will be able to stand before you."

Dam Ho bowed his head.

Sage Hyeon-so was a single torch burning in the impenetrable darkness before him. It was by his guidance that Dam Ho could find his way and press forward.

"Receive this book."

"What is this?"

"I have recorded the concept we established together. When you encounter difficulty, look upon this book and reflect."

"Thank you."

Dam Ho accepted the volume Sage Hyeon-so held out with both hands. The blank pages far outnumbered those filled.

"We began it together, but completing it is your task. How you develop it from here rests entirely with you."

"I will keep that in mind, Master."

Afterward, Dam Ho and Sage Hyeon-so spoke at length about the martial art recorded in the book.

Dam Ho shared his insights from training, and Sage Hyeon-so drew upon his entire reservoir of martial knowledge to resolve Dam Ho's questions.

A smile graced Dam Ho's lips.

This was still only a concept—there was no knowing what arduous path lay ahead. But Dam Ho cherished this moment.

This moment with his Master.

***

"Hah!"

Mak Gyeong, the Chief Escort of the Northern Road Escort Agency, wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

Though the wind was still chill, a fair amount of sweat had broken through. The sun was that fierce.

"Spring must not be far off. The spring blossoms will already be in bloom in the Central Plains."

A smile rose to his lips.

Then a young escort galloped up beside him on horseback. Lim Ho-ryeong, an escort in his early thirties, was a younger brother Mak Gyeong held dear.

"You must already be missing your wife, Brother."

"Wouldn't you be the same? It has been seven months since we set out. I'm dying for a whiff of my wife's scent."

"I feel the same. I want to go home and see my wife and children as soon as possible."

A look of longing crossed Lim Ho-ryeong's face.

This was a trading expedition that had traveled all the way to the Western Regions. The Northern Road Trading Company had blazed a new route and staked their fortunes on this venture.

In truth, seven months could not be considered long. It typically took over a year to make the round trip to the Western Regions. They had hurried and given their all.

As a result, they had forged a trade line with the Western Regions. Now all that remained was to soar ever higher.

The two men looked back.

Hundreds of people and countless carriages followed in their wake. They were the merchants of the Northern Road Trading Company and the escort guards of the Escort Agency. Smiles graced their faces.

Having reaped the rewards they sought, their steps on the road back to the Central Plains were light.

Their current position was Lop Nur Lake in Xinjiang Province. The Jade Gate Pass in Gansu Province, the gateway into the Central Plains, was not far ahead.

If they pressed on diligently, ten days would be sufficient to enter Gansu Province. From there, another month's journey remained to Hubei Province, where the Northern Road Trading Company was headquartered. Yet having nearly reached the Central Plains, their steps could not help but be buoyant.

Mak Gyeong asked:

"Where is the Company Master?"

"He has fallen asleep in his carriage."

"He must be exhausted. How he has worried these past months."

"But now that we have achieved what we wanted, he can rest easy."

Company Master Woo Seung-gyeong of the Northern Road Trading Company was an outer disciple of the renowned Wudang Sect in Hubei Province.

Relying only on the martial arts learned at Wudang and a single sword, he had embarked upon his trading career some thirty years ago. In that time, the Northern Road Trading Company had grown into the foremost trading house in Hubei.

To protect it, he had established the Northern Road Escort Agency, with Mak Gyeong as its Chief Escort.

"Brother, allow me to congratulate you in advance."

"What do you mean?"

"When we return to Hubei Province, you will become the Head of the Northern Road Escort Agency, will you not? My congratulations."

"You rascal. That is only if we return safely."

Company Master Woo Seung-gyeong had declared that if this expedition concluded without incident, he would grant Mak Gyeong the position of Head of the Northern Road Escort Agency. For an escort who had started from the very bottom, it was an honor beyond measure.

"We are nearly at the Central Plains now. Surely nothing will happen."

Lim Ho-ryeong grinned. Mak Gyeong let out a short laugh in response.

At that moment.

Whoosh!

A sharp whistle of something cutting through the air suddenly echoed across the sky.

"Kyaah!"

A scream erupted from an escort behind them.

The faces of Mak Gyeong and Lim Ho-ryeong changed in an instant.

"What?"

They whipped around. An escort had been struck by an arrow and fallen from his horse.

"An ambush? Who on earth…"

At that instant, figures clad entirely in black cloaks surged into view atop a nearby hill. Their number exceeded a hundred.

"Who are you?!"

Mak Gyeong and Lim Ho-ryeong drew their swords and shouted. Tension was plain upon their faces. The killing intent emanating from the attackers was far from ordinary.

Woo Seung-gyeong, who had been sleeping in his carriage, emerged. He fixed the attackers with a glare and cried out:

"I am Woo Seung-gyeong, Company Master of the Northern Road Trading Company and an outer disciple of Wudang. Who are you, to dare assault the Northern Road Trading Company?"

Woo Seung-gyeong invoked the name of Wudang.

He intended to intimidate the enemy by invoking the Wudang Sect—one of the Nine Great Sects and leader of the Five Sacred Sword Sects. But the reply he received shattered his expectations utterly.

The man who appeared to be the leader of the attackers curled his lip into a twisted smile.

"What of Wudang?"

"To think you would dare look down on Wudang."

Woo Seung-gyeong's rage flared.

He could endure any insult—but the dishonoring of his sect, the Wudang, was something he could not abide.

The leader approached, speaking as he came:

"You possess a great pride in the Wudang Sect. But even so great a Wudang dared not draw a full breath when we were active."

"What did you say?"

As suspicion clouded the faces of Woo Seung-gyeong, Mak Gyeong, and the others, the leader threw off his black cloak. Emblazoned upon his chest was a clearly visible emblem.

A simple, stylized image of a blazing flame. The moment they saw it, the faces of Woo Seung-gyeong and his companions transformed utterly.

"That emblem… the Sacred Flame? Could it be—the Demonic Cult?"

A force said to have perished twenty years ago. The very wellspring of all demonic arts in the world.

That was the Demonic Cult.

At the time, the entire Central Plains had united to drive them out.

After more than three years of brutal warfare, the Central Plains had at last destroyed the Demonic Cult. But the damage sustained by the Central Plains was immense. Numerous sects had lost their strength or been annihilated entirely, and many who had not yet recovered from the aftermath had fallen into decline.

The leader's lip curled upward.

"Now you understand? Why we do not fear the Wudang."

"A-are you truly the Demonic Cult?"

"See for yourself."

The leader gestured with his hand.

In that instant, the martial artists arrayed behind him charged toward the Northern Road Trading Company and its escort guards as one. And a one-sided slaughter began.

Woo Seung-gyeong's face twisted in anguish. He and Mak Gyeong exchanged a glance. Without a word, they understood each other's thoughts.

Mak Gyeong looked to Lim Ho-ryeong.

"Ho-ryeong."

"Yes, Chief Escort."

"You must survive. No matter what."

"What are you saying? I will fight alongside you to the end."

"If they are truly the Demonic Cult, none of us will survive. But someone must live to carry word of their existence to the Central Plains. You are the only one among us who might accomplish that. I am asking you, Ho-ryeong."

"Kuh! Chief Escort."

Lim Ho-ryeong's face contorted in grief.

Woo Seung-gyeong and Mak Gyeong turned their backs on him and walked toward the battlefield. Their faces were filled with solemn resolve.

That day, the Northern Road Trading Company and its escort agency vanished from the world.

Gwak-o continued talking to himself as he pulled the cart down.

“Hundred Flower Valley is nothing in the martial world. Just a third-rate sect like countless others scattered throughout the martial world. There are plenty of sects just like Hundred Flower Valley.”

Gwak-o’s voice carried a hint of self-mockery.

“The Martial Arts Alliance? They don’t even spare a glance at sects like ours. Even this supposedly grand Extreme Poison Sect is merely low-ranked there.”

Yet this “third-rate” Extreme Poison Sect had completely annihilated Hundred Flower Valley.

Gwak-o suddenly stopped speaking and halted the cart, sighing as if this thought had just occurred to him.

“It was only after coming here that I realized how insignificant our Hundred Flower Valley’s name is in the martial world. Like a fool.”

After uttering these words like a lamentation, Gwak-o paused to catch his breath.

“If I… had known that earlier, would I have betrayed my master?”

The conversation briefly halted, and only the rattling of the cart could be heard.

“No. No matter what I said, my master never scolded me. He always praised and protected me. That’s why I didn’t know the situation outside Hundred Flower Valley. So it’s not my fault that I became so immature!”

Gwak-o’s voice was tinged with tears.

Rattle, rattle.

After pulling the cart downhill for quite some time, Gwak-o began climbing uphill again.

Hazy smoke was rising from all directions. The smell was acrid, and visibility was poor, making it quite difficult for Gwak-o to pull the cart.

“Ugh.”

It must have been strenuous, as he stopped talking to himself.

“Cough, cough!”

He occasionally coughed.

After a long while, Gwak-o finally stopped the cart. He had arrived at the waste disposal site.

Clunk.

In front of the cart was a cliff. Enormous clouds of smoke billowed up from below the cliff. There were numerous volcanic vents spewing smoke.

Gwak-o covered his mouth with a dirty cloth.

“Farewell. While I’ve become someone who just cleans filth, I hope that at least in your next life, you’ll be free from suffering…”

Just as Gwak-o lifted the cart’s handle—

“Sa…ve me…”

Gwak-o froze, his skin crawling.

The voice was so deflated that it was barely audible, but Gwak-o heard it clearly. It was Jin Ja-gang’s voice.

Gwak-o looked into the cart. Jin Ja-gang’s swollen eyes were slightly open, and there was a faint spark of life in them.

Jin Ja-gang was definitely alive.

What thoughts crossed Gwak-o’s mind at that moment?

Gwak-o lifted the cart even more forcefully.

“Ugh, aaaaah! Die! Disappear!”

This wasn’t a reflex action born from the fear of seeing a ghost.

It was a desperate struggle to cover up the ugly deeds he had committed in the past.

It was closer to a frantic attempt to leave no traces of the past.

Jin Ja-gang fell over the cliff, reaching out a feeble hand toward Gwak-o.

By the time Gwak-o turned around, clutched his head, and sank to his knees, Jin Ja-gang had already disappeared among the volcanic vents spewing sulfurous smoke.

***

Read only at nineheavens.org

Translated by Nine Heavens!

https://discord.gg/XC9DTsTQ9Z

***

The distance from the cliff to the volcanic vents below was more than ten zhang.

Jin Ja-gang tumbled down, hitting the slope multiple times on his way down.

Thud! Crack!

Each time he hit, the sulfur-covered slope crumbled like a block of salt, sending up powder. Fortunately, this helped disperse the impact. The impacts were gradually absorbed, reducing the bouncing, and by the time he reached the bottom, he was almost rolling rather than falling.

Rolling, rolling.

Thud.

After rolling for quite some time, Jin Ja-gang finally stopped when his head hit a rock.

Fwoosh!

As the impact site crumbled, yellowish sulfur powder with red streaks scattered in a hazy cloud… The sulfur powder and fragments entered Jin Ja-gang’s open mouth.

The bitter, spicy taste pierced his tongue and throat like a needle.

“Cough, cough!”

Jin Ja-gang struggled as the powder made it hard to breathe. It was difficult to move his arms and legs, so he shook his body from side to side. Fortunately, the hole in his neck allowed a bit of air to pass through.

However, when the sharp, acrid sulfur smoke that filled the surroundings entered through the hole in his neck, his lungs felt like they were being torn apart.

“Kuk, kkuk.”

White foam continuously came out from both the hole in his neck and his mouth.

The sulfur smoke here was several times more potent than any other sulfur zone Jin Ja-gang knew of.

But since he couldn’t stop breathing, Jin Ja-gang continued to gasp, barely maintaining minimal respiration.

Since Jin Ja-gang couldn’t move his body anyway, there was no way for him to escape this place immediately.

Jin Ja-gang forced his stinging eyes open and rolled his eyeballs to look around.

The smoke was so thick that he could barely see, but he could make out the corpses, shells of insects, and other waste that had been dumped from the cart along with him. He could also see some volcanic vents emitting toxic sulfur smoke, yellow rocks, and parts of the strange ochre-colored ground through the smoke.

If there was a land of death where no living being could survive, would it look like this?

Jin Ja-gang looked up. The cliff he had fallen from seemed impossibly high. Even with a healthy body, it would be difficult to climb.

Still, after a little while, his poisoned body would recover, and then he could somehow move and escape from this place.

‘I will survive. I will survive!’

Dry tears flowed from Jin Ja-gang’s eyes.

‘I won’t forgive them. I can’t forgive them.’

The image of Mang-ryo’s eyes, who had treated him like livestock, and Gwak-o’s eyes, who had betrayed his trust to the very end, ignoring his desperate pleas, appeared simultaneously.

Also, Baek Li-jung of the Martial Arts Alliance and Petition Supervisor Seo Gil-pung, who had pretended to be heroes seeking the truth but were actually liars.

He could never forgive them.

But there were still many mountains to climb before he could have his revenge.

First, he had to survive here, and then he needed to grow stronger.

How?

It was still a daunting task.

But someday!

Someday he would definitely make them pay!

Perhaps because the hot ground made his body lethargic, or because the tension had finally released after a moment’s rest, the sandman began to visit Jin Ja-gang.

His mind, which had been clear even when rolling down the cliff slope, gradually grew hazy.

The pain that had seemed to scream from every part of his body also gradually dulled.

His eyes began to close bit by bit.

‘Sleepy…’

Jin Ja-gang, sprawled out, kept drifting in and out of sleep.

Just as he was about to fall completely asleep, at the very edge of consciousness, Jin Ja-gang suddenly had a thought: ‘Why?’

The intelligence decoction he had consumed in the morning should still be effective, making it unlikely for him to feel sleepy.

‘Something… is wrong?’

With this uneasy thought, he jolted awake, and a chill ran down his spine.

Jin Ja-gang’s drowsy consciousness snapped back to full alertness.

His head felt like it was about to split open. The sensation was quite different from the pain caused by venomous creatures.

It was due to the toxicity of the sulfur smoke.

Jin Ja-gang, who had just barely regained his senses, was shocked.

It was no longer daytime with the sun shining; it was already night. He had no idea how much time had passed.

However, what shocked him more was the fact that his body was being buried in the ground.

‘What!’

Half of his body was already buried. His head was buried up to just behind his ears.

The ground, which had definitely been hard earlier, was now melting.

Now the ground had melted and become sticky.

‘Hot, hot!’

It felt like the ground was boiling, with heat rising from deep below. His back already stung as if burned.

Even when he tried to push against the ground with what little strength he had, it didn’t work.

It wasn’t sticky, so if he could just move his limbs, he might be able to escape somehow, but that was impossible. His arms and legs felt as if they had weights attached to them, making it impossible to lift his body.

‘No, no!’

Jin Ja-gang was being buried alive.

And worse, he was slowly being cooked in the simmering ground.

The waste that had fallen around him was already buried and almost invisible.

As time passed, the ground melted faster. Jin Ja-gang was being buried deeper and deeper, and the parts of his body already buried were becoming unbearably hot.

His skin stung as if it were burning.

Jin Ja-gang was overcome with terror. Now, lying on his back, he was buried up to his ears.

‘Aaaaargh!’

A silent scream echoed from Jin Ja-gang’s mouth.

* * *

In Mang-ryo’s room, while Extreme Poison Sect warriors guarded the entrance, Gwak-o stood trembling before them.

Mang-ryo, with his upper body bare, was lying face down on the bed having moxa treatment applied to his back.

Though he had mostly detoxified his body, the side effects remained, causing him great pain. His contorted facial expression showed no signs of relaxing. His extremely haggard face and disheveled hair made Mang-ryo look like a wounded beast.

“So…”

“I, I thought it w-was just a c-corpse and d-disposed of it. P-please believe me. If I h-had known that the c-corpse was Jin Ja-gang…”

This was Gwak-o’s excuse.

“If you had known?”

Mang-ryo sat up on the bed and looked at Gwak-o.

Gwak-o glanced at Mang-ryo’s face and was terrified.

One of Mang-ryo’s eye corners was strangely dark, and the eyeball above it was eerily white.

“Urgh! I’m sorry, please spare me! Elder!”

Gwak-o fell to his knees and repeatedly knocked his head on the floor.

“Oh! It’s alright, it’s alright. Stand up proudly. After all, you are the only successor of Hundred Flower Valley.”

At Mang-ryo’s warm voice, Gwak-o rose, trembling.

Mang-ryo gestured.

“Come here. Come closer and tell me in detail.”

Gwak-o approached, trembling violently, and bowed respectfully. Mang-ryo grabbed the back of Gwak-o’s neck with his strong hand. With Gwak-o’s waist awkwardly bent, Mang-ryo asked subtly in his ear:

“So where exactly is it?”

“Mixed Spring Ground, Elder.”

“Where is Mixed Spring Ground?”

An Extreme Poison Sect warrior answered the question instead.

“It’s a sulfur zone on the middle of the adjacent peak, where we dispose of all the waste from our sect.”

“Why?”

“Every night, hot geothermal energy rises, melting the sulfur stone ground, and all the waste is washed away. During the day, all waste disappears, and the ground hardens back to its original rock-like state, leaving nothing behind.”

The Extreme Poison Sect warrior continued, speaking a bit cautiously.

“I understand we use that place because it can cleanly dispose of even things that shouldn’t be seen by others.”

Mang-ryo suddenly put on his deerskin gloves and nodded.

“Yes, that’s right. If it’s disposed of in such a place, no one would be able to find it.”

His tone sounded a bit strange.

“If you say you disposed of it there, no one would even think to look…”

Gwak-o looked at Mang-ryo in surprise.

“Pardon?”

Mang-ryo spoke as if he understood everything.

“It’s fine, I tell you! Meeting a brother from your sect after so long, of course I should help. I should definitely help.”

“Th-that’s not it, Elder!”

“I’m on your side. So just tell me honestly. Where did you hide him?”

“I don’t know! I really don’t know!”

Mang-ryo glared at Gwak-o with his eerily white eyeball.

“That b*st*rd took one of my legs, and then made my eye like this. I just want to ask him why. After taking such good care of him all this time, why would he repay my kindness with such ingratitude?”

“P-please spare me! Elder!”

Mang-ryo’s eyes turned wild. Blood vessels bulged on his forehead.

“He did the same! Begged me to save him. So I saved him! And then he made my eye like this! You should know that pain too!”

Mang-ryo suddenly grabbed Gwak-o’s hair, then put his deerskin-gloved hand into the brazier that had been brought for the moxa treatment.

When he pulled his hand out again, Mang-ryo was holding a piece of charcoal burning bright red.