Chapter 17

Turan blinked several times, but the written content didn't change.

Keorn, that familiar name…

Wondering if it might be someone with the same name, he looked at the content below and saw it was a play set during the Arabion-Zahar war from 20 years ago.

Specifically, it told the story of Keorn, Arabion's most valiant knight.

Seeing him staring at the advertisement for a while, Asiz spoke.

"It's quite a good play. Though it was made by the main house to promote that we won the war. Want to watch?"

"I'd like to… unless you're not interested since you've already seen it?"

"Hm? No, watching it once more wouldn't hurt. Hey, when can we see it?"

"It starts in fifteen minutes!"

Shortly after, Turan and Asiz occupied two of the best seats in the theater.

Of course, they originally belonged to others, but seats appear even where there were none when paying ten times the ticket price.

The play began not long after they sat down.

[The time was 2195, when Arabion's warriors went to that devils' desert-]

Several well-dressed actors took the stage along with a rich, resonating voice.

They showed how those who stopped for regular trade got into an argument with Zahar's knights guarding the desert, which soon turned into a fight.

Before long, the knights' fight escalated into a nobles' battle, then into a war centered on the two families.

Later, when the family heads came out to duel, screams erupted from the audience as the two actors playing the heads made gestures of attacking each other with magic.

They had the skill to make weak magic that couldn't actually harm each other look spectacular.

[With storms by day and death by night, as the war dragged on and casualties mounted – there was one knight named Keorn.]

Only then did the actor playing Keorn appear.

The man with fierce eyes and sturdy build was quite different from the gentle old knight in Turan's memories.

But such an appearance suited the Keorn in the play better.

A warrior who charged first and retreated last on the battlefield, whose rich experience and magic skill made even nobles remember his name.

Though his significance wasn't great amid dozens of nobles and thousands of knights clashing, Keorn was respected by all as a knight among knights.

And on the fateful day, Keorn faced a Zahar noble without any noble to protect him.

The opponent mocked Keorn who was incomparably weaker than himself.

But Keorn succeeded in defeating the enemy after a struggle, using all manner of luck described as divine help, his companions' belongings, courage and wisdom.

When the shocking news spread that a noble born with great family bloodline was killed in a duel with a mere knight, joy and sorrow divided the two families, and finally the fierce two-year war came to an end-

As the curtain fell with the narrator's words, thunderous applause shook the theater.

"How was it? Worth watching?"

"Hm? Ah, it was… really good."

Turan answered Asiz's question in a somewhat dazed state.

The first thought that came to his mind was what Keorn had said.

Hadn't he said he wasn't a particularly accomplished or capable knight?

Really, there was no modesty like that modesty.

Turan recalled when he had tested his strength against Keorn back on Hisaril Hill.

Keorn's magic power then was about one-tenth of Turan's.

Considering even this was because Turan was a young noble who had only absorbed magic power once, clearly most nobles would be dozens of times stronger than Keorn.

This was certainly an achievement worthy of being remembered in plays for posterity.

If it was true, that is.

"That play just now, did it really happen?"

"Probably? I was young so I don't know well, but it's a famous story."

Turan couldn't help but laugh at Asiz's attitude of talking like it was his infancy, when he would have been twenty-three even twenty years ago, older than current Turan.

"A knight killing a noble would be shocking, but I wonder if that's enough to end a war."

"Well, I heard there was already a mood for ending the war then. With hundreds of knights dead on each side, over twenty nobles killed, and even the family heads injured in their duel."

According to Asiz, in that situation, when Keorn killed a noble and Arabion widely promoted it, Zahar proposed peace thinking they had no chance if there were more knights with such capability, leading to the war's end.

'This is a bit different from what I know.'

From what Turan heard from Keorn, the war between the two families had ended with Zahar's advantage.

Perhaps there were more hidden details.

Maybe they were adapting it favorably for themselves since this was Arabion territory.

Anyway, he wanted to ask Keorn if that story was true when they met again.

* * *

By the time they finished watching three more plays after "Hero Keorn," the sun was already setting.

Now Turan no longer thought of actors as jesters performing antics before audiences.

They were artists.

Like painters paint with brushes and writers write with quill pens, they recreated historical figures that could no longer be seen through words and actions…

Delighted at Turan's absorption in the plays, Asiz tried to draw him deeper into that world by sharing stories about plays he had watched over the past decades.

As they returned to the mansion chatting, they saw a lightning bolt strike inside with a boom.

Despite not even a few clouds floating in the sunset-reddened sky, let alone rain.

Asiz's expression watching this was completely calm.

"Looks like Meisa is practicing magic. Always so diligent."

"That was Arabion's bloodline magic, right?"

"Right. Storm bloodline. I've never disliked my bloodline but… that one is a bit enviable. Makes you seem like a real god."

Just as enchanters worshipped the Lame Goddess as their ancestor, Arabion claimed descent from the Thunder Lord among the Frea divine tribe.

Indeed, their bloodline ability to control wind and lightning was renowned for combining powerful attack power with versatility.

Moreover, it wasn't just destructive power – this region's prosperity was also maintained by their ability.

After harvest, Arabion nobles would fly over the empty Dakein Plains striking countless lightning bolts, and strangely, this maintained the land's fertility without depleting soil power for the next year.

'I'm curious.'

What would be the level of skill of this genius magician Asiz spoke of, who had talent equal to his and would become the next ruler of Arabion?

He wanted to see, but if caught peeking, he couldn't complain about being called an assassin.

Especially since she had fled here after nearly being assassinated.

"Want to go see?"

"I'm curious but… it probably wouldn't be good for a suspicious outsider like me to approach."

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

"What's the problem? It's not like you're an assassin. I can vouch for you! Honestly, I'm curious too. Which of you is more talented, you or Meisa."

"That seems to be your real reason for wanting to take me."

"To be honest, I have some built-up feelings from training with Meisa a few years ago. I'd like to see her frustrated for once."

Turan almost burst out laughing involuntarily at such a childish motivation.

"But my magic power level won't be a match."

His current magic power level was at best average among great family magicians, equal to or slightly below the head of a remote frontier family like Baltas.

In contrast, hadn't they said Meisa possessed power that didn't fall short even compared to Arabion's core members?

"Wow, so you're saying you could win if not for magic power level? That's some confidence."

"That's not what I meant."

By the time the two arrived at the garden inside the Berk mansion, the originally well-maintained garden had already become ruins from the lightning storm.

In the desolate scenery made more bleak by magic lights illuminating everywhere, the skeletal lady they saw yesterday turned her gaze toward them.

"Hey, Meisa!"

"Asiz? And beside you…"

"I'm Turan, my lady."

"Ah, right. Turan. That was the name. So, what brings you two suddenly?"

Surprisingly unlike someone who nearly got assassinated, Meisa didn't seem to care much about Turan's highly suspicious presence.

At her question, Asiz scratched his head while avoiding her gaze like someone with something to feel guilty about.

"Well, just saw you practicing magic and wanted to join in. Like we used to before."

"Ah… I remember. You ran away crying when I mastered in two tries what you struggled with for a week."

"Hey."

Their bickering looked more like ordinary cousin siblings than a great family heir and vassal family member.

Like Baltas's Izela and Marvin, but giving a much brighter, less gloomy impression.

When he couldn't help but smile, Asiz glared at him.

"Excuse me."

"You're mocking me too? Anyway, this Turan here has magic talent second to none I've seen. How about you two have a match?"

"A match?"

At Asiz's suggestion, Meisa tilted her head then released her aura.

'Ugh.'

Turan exhaled sharply at the pressure he felt.

Three times, five times, perhaps even more…

A violent torrent of power that he could never match with his current strength slept within that skinny lady's body.

So this was the potential of a great family heir.

When Meisa withdrew her aura shortly after, interest had already faded from her face.

"Sorry to say, but you seem a bit inadequate for a match with me."

"No, of course they couldn't match your magic power. What's really amazing about this friend is their magic learning ability."

Asiz boasted that Turan was a magic genius he had never seen before in his life, that even Meisa couldn't match that level.

Hearing this, faint interest appeared on Meisa's face.

"To that extent?"

Turan was about to be modest saying his friend was exaggerating, but kept his mouth shut.

If he acted humble here, wouldn't it just end with "as expected"?

He too wanted to directly experience this noble lady's skill.

"How about we each show a magic we don't know, and whoever succeeds faster wins?"

"That's a good method. Meisa, what do you think?"

"Alright. Come to think of it, Turan doesn't even know his bloodline magic, right? It would be unfair for me to use wind or lightning magic too. Let's exclude those."

Saying this, Meisa briefly tilted her head then lightly rolled her foot on the ground.

Turan thought she might use magic to make thorns rise from the earth, which he had used before-

"Whoa."

Asiz let out a strange exclamation seeing vines emerge from the ground with a rustle.

The vines didn't just emerge but moved on their own to wrap around the arms, body, and legs of Asiz who was standing blankly beside them, then lifted and swung him around.

"Aaaah-!"

"Plant creation and control magic. Can you do it?"

"Let-me-down-!"

"Stay like that a bit. It's fun."

While Asiz was being swung through the air by vines, Turan quietly reviewed what had just happened.

Creating vines from the ground – that couldn't be true.

According to the natural laws he learned, even magic power couldn't create matter.

Fire magic only manifests the 'phenomenon' of burning, and water magic only draws invisible moisture from the air.

Therefore, those vines must be making seeds planted in the ground grow rapidly.

Understanding it was 'growth' not 'creation'.

Whether one knew this principle or not was a very important factor in using magic.

"Grow."

Being unfamiliar with this magic, Turan placed his hand on the ground while softly chanting.

Shortly after, several much weaker vines than Meisa's grew from the ground.

Turan made the grown vines wrap around his right hand.

"Oh…"

Though incomparably lacking compared to the power Meisa showed, both of them exclaimed in amazement.

They knew how difficult it was to even clumsily copy an entirely unknown magic after seeing it once.

Of course, Turan had relatively less power loss since he used it guessing there would be vine seeds remaining in the ground.

"Seeing you say 'grow', you seem to have immediately understood this magic's nature. Have you seen it somewhere before?"

"First time."

"So Asiz can be right sometimes."

Meisa's eyes sparkled as she looked at him.

Though it was grotesque with eyeballs protruding from sunken sockets, it was enough to feel her expectation.

"Then now it's your turn to pose a problem. Let's see what you've got."

At Meisa's challenging expression, Turan pondered what magic to choose.

While he wanted to use a difficult magic that would be hard for her to even attempt, nothing particular came to mind.

Using Zahar bloodline magic would be suicide before even being rule violation…

Then, Turan's eyes suddenly caught a rat scurrying quickly through a corner of the ruined garden.

As he called the rat over with a light gesture, Meisa asked in a somewhat disappointed tone.

"Animal control?"

"Of course not, this one is just material."

Turan cast magic while lightly gripping the rat's neck.

Magic that gives power to the countless microorganisms inside this living being's body, those that originally exist but cannot be perceived…

Shortly after, the rat began to rot while still alive in his hand.

"It's ready."

His challenge was 'decay', magic gained through natural laws learned from the library's librarian.

Chapter 17: Into the World Beyond (2)

Following Sage Cheong-heo, the Mount Hua disciples arrived at Cheongyang County, on the border of Shaanxi and Gansu Provinces.

Located four hundred li west of the provincial capital Xi'an, Cheongyang had since ancient times been a hub of commerce. For this reason, it bustled with people throughout all seasons.

"That is the gathering point."

Sage Cheong-heo pointed with his finger toward a rather large estate within Cheongyang. The Yoon Family Estate, as it was called, was strikingly opulent at first glance.

"Is it connected to the Wudang Sect?"

"The head of the Yoon Family once received a great kindness from our sect in his youth. He has since been most cooperative."

At Mu-gyeong's question, Sage Cheong-heo answered calmly.

In that instant, Mu-gyeong's face tightened slightly.

Shaanxi Province had long been the territory of Mount Hua. In those days, it would have been unthinkable for another sect to establish a foothold there.

'That is how much the Mount Hua Sect's influence has diminished.'

Mu-gyeong's gaze sank heavily.

At that moment, Un-gyeong spoke:

"Senior Brother?"

"What is it?"

Mu-gyeong, as if the previous heaviness had never existed, broke into a broad smile. Un-gyeong's expression relaxed with relief.

He had feared Mu-gyeong might be unable to contain his anger. Mu-gyeong, sensing this, patted him on the shoulder.

"I am fine."

"I am relieved. I hope you will continue to smile thus."

"Of course. Do not worry."

They followed Sage Cheong-heo into the Yoon Family Estate. In the spacious courtyard at its center, over a hundred people had gathered. Some of them spotted Sage Cheong-heo and hurried over.

A middle-aged Taoist with a prominent paunch offered a fist-and-palm salute.

"Senior Brother."

"Junior Brother Cheong-gwang."

Sage Cheong-heo smiled gently.

The middle-aged Taoist whose belly protruded in a manner unbecoming of his calling was none other than Sage Cheong-gwang, his Junior Brother. Though he could not compare to Sage Cheong-heo, he was a formidable martial artist in his own right.

Just as Sage Cheong-heo had ascended Mount Hua to request the Mount Hua Sect's aid, Sage Cheong-gwang had gone to the Zhongnan Sect.

Two more approached Sage Cheong-gwang's side. One was a man in his late forties, the other a young man barely into his twenties. What they shared was an intense, piercing gaze.

Sage Cheong-gwang introduced them to Sage Cheong-heo:

"Please, allow me to make introductions. This is our Wudang Sect's greatest swordsman, known as Hubei's Foremost Swordsman—Senior Brother Cheong-heo. Senior Brother Cheong-heo, these are Hero Yeom Jung-hwa, known as the Zhongnan True Sword, of the Zhongnan Sect, and his disciple, Young Hero Geum Han-su."

As soon as Sage Cheong-gwang finished, Sage Cheong-heo offered his salute.

"A pleasure to meet you. Hero Yeom, Young Hero Geum—this humble one is Cheong-heo of the Wudang."

"It is an honor to meet you, Sage Cheong-heo. This unworthy one is Yeom Jung-hwa."

"I am Geum Han-su of the Zhongnan Sect. To meet Sage Cheong-heo, the foremost swordsman of Wudang, is an honor beyond measure. I humbly ask for your guidance."

Yeom Jung-hwa and Geum Han-su bowed with perfect courtesy.

Now it was Sage Cheong-heo's turn to introduce the Mount Hua disciples.

"These are Sage Hyeon-so and Young Hero Mu-gyeong of the Mount Hua Sect."

"I am Hyeon-so of Mount Hua."

"Mu-gyeong pays his respects."

The two offered their salutes.

In that instant, the eyes of Yeom Jung-hwa and Geum Han-su gleamed.

The Mount Hua and Zhongnan Sects both had their bases in Shaanxi Province.

When the Mount Hua Sect prospered, the Zhongnan Sect declined; when the Zhongnan rose, the Mount Hua fell. Perhaps because of this, the two sects had historically had little exchange.

"How pleasant to meet our neighbors. I am delighted, Sage Hyeon-so."

"The pleasure is mine. I hope I will not be a burden on the journey. Hero Yeom."

Yeom Jung-hwa and Sage Hyeon-so exchanged greetings first. Next came Mu-gyeong and Geum Han-su.

"I am Mu-gyeong of the Mount Hua Sect. A pleasure!"

"I am Geum Han-su of the Zhongnan Sect. I look forward to working with you."

Still young, the two regarded each other with sparks in their eyes.

'This one is the Mount Hua's Grand Disciple.'

'The once-in-a-century talent bearing the full weight of the Zhongnan Sect's hopes.'

Both sensed the other's exceptional nature.

Young martial artists living in the same era. Moreover, since both the Mount Hua and Zhongnan Sects were rooted in Shaanxi Province, they would inevitably continue to collide.

Thus, as they regarded one another, wariness and curiosity coexisted in their gazes.

It was not only the two of them. Every martial artist from both the Mount Hua and Zhongnan Sects gathered at the Yoon Estate regarded the other side with a mixture of caution and interest.

At that moment, Sage Cheong-heo stepped forward.

"Let the young ones be. The rest of us should go inside and discuss the coming schedule."

Sage Hyeon-so and Yeom Jung-hwa nodded.

They were here to find traces of the Demonic Cult. There was no time to waste on idle posturing.

The elders entered, leaving only the young martial artists behind.

Mu-gyeong broke the silence and addressed Geum Han-su:

"How about a drink, Young Hero Geum?"

"I would be glad!"

Geum Han-su offered a cold smile.

At Mu-gyeong's gesture, Un-gyeong and several other promising Mount Hua disciples approached. Geum Han-su likewise beckoned to the Zhongnan Sect's talents.

They were to be companions regardless. It would not hurt to get acquainted on this occasion.

Thus, a drinking gathering was arranged between the Mount Hua and Zhongnan martial artists. But Dam Ho was not invited. It was Un-gyeong who had objected.

As Dam Ho quietly watched them from a distance, Yeon So-ha approached.

"Are you all right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Not being invited to that gathering."

"Not at all."

At Dam Ho's firm reply, Yeon So-ha smiled. She had expected as much from him.

"The Wudang disciples are also planning a small drinking gathering. Would you care to join?"

Dam Ho shook his head once more. But Yeon So-ha was not disappointed. She had anticipated this answer as well.

"Then…"

Yeon So-ha bowed her head slightly and brushed past him.

Dam Ho looked around.

The remaining disciples had been assigned quarters by the Yoon Estate staff. They were led to a building structured around a large courtyard.

Though separated by the courtyard, each had been given a different room, yet they could see one another at any time.

Dam Ho too was given a small room. But he did not rest inside, instead stepping out immediately.

He had obtained Sage Hyeon-so's permission to step out briefly.

This was Dam Ho's first time in Cheongyang County. Yet there was no hesitation or fear in his eyes.

When Dam Ho emerged, the guard standing at the Yoon Estate's main gate looked at him with curiosity.

"Where are you going?"

"I will be stepping out for a short while. Might I borrow a horse?"

"A horse?"

"That is not possible?"

At Dam Ho's question, the guard thought for a moment before answering:

"The head of the estate has ordered us to cooperate in every way, so lending one is no trouble. But it must be returned by tonight. Is that acceptable?"

"That will suffice."

"Then wait a moment."

The guard instructed a nearby servant, who brought a horse with a gleaming white coat.

"A fine horse. Treat it with care."

"Thank you."

Dam Ho bowed to the guard and led the horse out of the Yoon Estate. He looked around briefly.

Far to the south, a great mountain was visible. Though it lay at a great distance, its immense height made it clearly visible from here.

Dam Ho knew the mountain's name.

'Taebaek Mountain.'

Dam Ho spurred the horse toward Taebaek Mountain.

Though it was his first time riding, there was no trace of fear in his eyes. He rode as though driven by a madman's will.

South, and further south. After riding for a full shichen, he arrived at an unnamed mountain trail. A place surrounded on all sides by low hills. Grass grew as high as the knee, obscuring even the path.

Dam Ho's gaze deepened.

He dismounted and began pushing through the underbrush. This was a place he had visited many times with his father. Even then, he had taken his bearings by the towering Taebaek Mountain.

After walking for some time, a rather wide basin suddenly appeared before him.

Dam Ho stared at the basin, overgrown with brush and tangled growth, with no place to set foot, and his gaze sank even deeper.

"Father. Mother. Ga-ryeong."

His voice came out rough and fractured.

Though it was now nothing but a ruin choked with weeds and scrub, people had once lived here.

Dam Ho's clenched fists swelled with thick, protruding veins.

This was his hometown.

A village of thirty households and over a hundred people who had lived in simple happiness.

His mother had tilled the fields; his father had gathered herbs. Until his parents returned in the evening, Dam Ho had cared for his younger sibling.

Though most of those days had been wearisome, they remained the happiest period of his life.

Here, six years ago, his memories had ended.

Dam Ho knelt upon the overgrown ground.

Crunch!

His hands clawed at the earth. Soil and grass filled his grasp. His fingers split and bled, but Dam Ho paid no heed.

A tremor ran through his shoulders. But he did not shed tears.

His tears had already dried up six years ago.

The moment he had watched his father and mother die in惨烈 fashion before his very eyes.

Even now, he did not know why they had died. The bandits had come like a plague, stripping the village of all life.

Dam Ho murmured in a low voice:

"I have returned."

His voice was hoarse and congested, as though phlegm were rising in his throat. But his eyes burned with a brilliance fiercer than ever before.

"I still do not know. Why you had to die. Why you had to lose your lives… If it was simply because we lacked strength… If that was the sole reason, then this world is surely a flawed one."

Upon the wind, Dam Ho's lament echoed.

Though more than a hundred people had perished, not a single soul had stepped forward to investigate the cause. Not even the Mount Hua Sect that had rescued Dam Ho.

They had simply surmised that bandits had attacked and plundered, and taken no further action.

What had been to Dam Ho the loss of an entire world was, to them, merely another person's unfortunate tragedy.

In that moment, Dam Ho had understood.

No matter how close they seemed, how warm their pretense of intimacy, in the end they were nothing but strangers.

The sole exception was Sage Hyeon-so.

Only he had genuinely worried about Dam Ho's plight and sought, together with him, a solution.

Dam Ho's eyes grew red and swollen. But in the end, he shed no tears.

Dam Ho remained motionless as a stone statue for a long while. He did not rise until half a shichen had passed.

"I have never forgotten you. And neither shall they ever forget you."

Crunch, crunch.

As time passed and the ground hardened completely, even careful footsteps made a sound as they crushed the sulfur fragments. Already hindered by his limp, the noise made Jin Ja-gang even more nervous.

He walked more slowly, more carefully.

After traveling upstream for nearly a day, he finally saw the sloped cliff from which he had fallen.

Instead of climbing straight up, he surveyed the area. Though it had been well over a month since his escape, someone might still be watching the Mixed Spring Ground.

Jin Ja-gang walked along the cliff until he found the gentlest slope at its lowest point. After confirming a path up the incline, he hid in the shade of a suitable rock to wait until nightfall.

During that time, he occasionally heard the rattling of cart wheels rolling along the path above the cliff. They were probably coming to dump waste.

Jin Ja-gang waited quietly, sating his hunger with mushrooms and jerky he had brought, and even managed to sleep.

When night fell, he climbed the cliff using the route he had scouted earlier. His improved memory perfectly recalled the path he had observed during daylight. His increased strength also made the climb much easier.

Atop the cliff, the fresh forest scent greeted him. Jin Ja-gang took several deep breaths.

Unlike the sulfur-filled cave, the mountain air was indescribably refreshing.

But he didn’t linger in the open for long. Jin Ja-gang quickly retreated into the underbrush.

He ate dew-covered leaves he plucked. Knowing he wouldn’t die from eating anything, he had no qualms about what he consumed.

After briefly quenching his thirst and resting, he decided to carefully descend the mountain path.

Dawn broke quickly.

But before he had gone very far, he saw the path split into several branches.

He took out the letter-map that Yang Il had carried like his life depended on it. The map showed all these forks in the road.

The narrow mountain path had many branches and was surprisingly complex. Without the map, Jin Ja-gang could never have found his way alone.

After ascending and descending various mountain paths, there was a route that branched toward the adjacent peak. Following the path along the forest’s edge, he saw several brick houses clustered around the edge of the peak. They had been built by carving into the edge of the peak, creating an interior space, with bricks stacked at the entrance.

‘That’s it!’

Jin Ja-gang quickly hid behind a nearby tree.

All the brick houses appeared to be tightly locked, with about two guard warriors occasionally patrolling the area.

‘Our Hundred Flower Valley people are in there…’

Jin Ja-gang felt a surge of emotion that nearly overwhelmed him.

Now the question was how to rescue them.

He observed the guard warriors for some time. Their patrol was so lax that infiltration itself didn’t seem difficult. One was completely slacking off, and the other merely walked back and forth before going into the guardhouse to sleep.

At night, they didn’t even appear to come out.

Jin Ja-gang gripped the broken cow bone tucked at his waist.

‘Now’s my chance. If I coat it with poison and just manage to graze them…’

Taking out the guard sleeping in the guardhouse didn’t seem too difficult.

But just as he was about to step out from behind the tree, he stopped.

Somehow, it felt too easy. Could he be missing something?

‘Wait.’

He remembered what he had overlooked.

Even if he rescued them, how would they escape?

The place where the Hundred Flower Valley survivors were imprisoned was located in the upper region of the Extreme Poison Sect’s main mountain. To escape, they would have to pass through the Extreme Poison Sect’s main compound and down the mountain.

Would that be possible?

‘But among the survivors, there must be someone who knows the geography well…’

That must be why the map was so detailed, he thought.

Jin Ja-gang reconsidered and looked at the map again.

Suddenly, his heart froze.

‘No!’

The map didn’t show any escape route.

It only showed the path from the Mixed Spring Ground to this prison location.

There was no way out.

Jin Ja-gang felt his hair stand on end.

This was like a map designed specifically to guide Jin Ja-gang safely from the Mixed Spring Ground to this place.

‘A trap?’

His hands trembled uncontrollably.

So focused on rescuing people, he had failed to notice the map’s fatal flaw.

If he had gone in as planned…

Jin Ja-gang held his breath.

He gathered leaves from around him and covered his body.

Instinct warned him that the current situation was extremely dangerous.

Jin Ja-gang spent the entire night with only his eyes exposed, his body covered in leaves.

In the morning, he saw someone climbing toward the guardhouse. They appeared to be bringing food. Though too distant to see clearly, he could make out three fist-sized lumps being taken from a bucket-like container and handed over.

If Hundred Flower Valley people were imprisoned there, shouldn’t they have brought enough food for however many people were captive?

Jin Ja-gang realized how dangerous it would have been if he had rushed in.

‘Our Hundred Flower Valley people aren’t there!’

Then why post guards?

‘I need to get away first.’

Jin Ja-gang thought he should escape while the guards were eating.

But he stopped himself when he noticed that the two guardhouse guards took and ate two of the food lumps, but left the third one.

That meant there was a third person.

‘Wait?’

He hadn’t seen a third person until now. They hadn’t been visible since yesterday.

Jin Ja-gang abandoned his escape plan and remained hidden, barely breathing.

Time passed painfully slowly.

The sun climbed to its zenith.

He had waited another half day.

Enduring hunger was familiar to him. He only worried that his stomach might growl and give him away.

Yet he still only saw two guards. They continued their perfunctory patrol, but Jin Ja-gang remained vigilant.

He stayed like that for quite some time longer, only starting to move when the sun had set and dusk had fallen.

Slowly, he brushed the leaves off his body.

Rustle.

Though he made only the softest sound, something felt wrong. It was as if a wind had blown in from somewhere.

Jin Ja-gang paused for a long while, and when he heard nothing, continued brushing off the remaining leaves.

Rustle.

Suddenly, he felt a chill run down his spine.

He jerked his head up to look above.

He spotted something in the tree. Between the thick branches, he could see something gleaming.

They were none other than eyes.

A pair of human eyes with a whitish gleam were rolling about, staring down at Jin Ja-gang.

“So here you are?”… The eyes’ gaze was so eerie that Jin Ja-gang’s skin crawled.

“Huk!”

Even in this moment, Jin Ja-gang covered his mouth to suppress his scream. But it was useless.

“Hehehe, I sensed your presence since yesterday, but only now have I found you. Impudent brat, how dare you make this elder starve for a whole day?”

It was indeed a trap.

The eyes disappeared, and suddenly a hand appeared. Jin Ja-gang rolled to the side, but faster than he could move, the hand grabbed his head in one swift motion and lifted him up.

It happened in an instant.

“Urrrgh!”

Jin Ja-gang groaned from the pain, feeling as if his head would split open.

Opening his eyes, he saw it wasn’t Mang-ryo but an old man he didn’t recognize.

The owner of the third food lump had appeared.

It was Miao Weng, known as “Bloody Hand,” one of the top ten masters of the Extreme Poison Sect.

Miao Weng shook Jin Ja-gang’s head in the air as if venting his frustration.

“You brat, you brat, you brat.”

Jin Ja-gang dangled like a scarecrow.

“Krrrrgh.”

“This one’s no ordinary child. How did such a young brat think to stay completely still for a whole day?”

Miao Weng asked.

“Are you indeed Jin Ja-gang?”

Jin Ja-gang gritted his teeth and refused to answer.

“Your silence confirms it. How on earth did you escape from the Mixed Spring Ground?”

The only people Jin Ja-gang had seen at the Extreme Poison Sect were Mang-ryo and Gwak-o. Conversely, this meant others hadn’t seen Jin Ja-gang either.

Naturally, Miao Weng didn’t know Jin Ja-gang’s face.

Moreover, Jin Ja-gang’s current appearance was quite hideous. His body was partially covered with scabs he had begun to peel, giving him a dirty look, and his hair was just starting to grow back, making him nearly bald.

At a glance, he was simply repulsive.

“Tsk, tsk. You survived looking like that? From your perspective, death might have been better.”

As Miao Weng examined Jin Ja-gang from various angles, he tilted his head curiously.

“Oh, what’s this?”

There were so many scabs that it looked disgusting, but the skin where the scabs had peeled off was smooth and shiny, giving a strange appearance.

“Is this a side effect of poison… or was Elder Mang doing something strange? Hmm.”

Miao Weng held Jin Ja-gang up by the head with one hand while using a finger of his other hand to press Jin Ja-gang’s acupoints.

Bang! Bang!

Each time Miao Weng’s finger struck Jin Ja-gang’s body, there was a sound like air bursting, and the acupoints were deeply depressed.

But since Jin Ja-gang’s energy channels were already hardened, the acupressure had no effect. Just as one cannot block a stream where no water flows, it was useless.

Miao Weng failed to notice this and slung Jin Ja-gang over his shoulder.

“Let’s go back. To hell. Kuhuhuhu.”

He was about to leap up using his lightness skill when—

Jin Ja-gang didn’t understand what Miao Weng had done to his body. It seemed like some kind of acupressure, but he felt nothing.

However, there was no time to deeply consider what had happened. It was also obvious that in the current situation, there was no need for deep thought.

If he was taken back, it would be over!

Jin Ja-gang gathered poisonous energy at his fingertip. After so much practice, the poisonous energy gathered in the blink of an eye.

A small amount of poisonous energy swelled at the tip of his little finger.

He bit down hard on the tip of his little finger. Blood flowed, and poisonous fluid formed. He pulled the broken cow bone from his waist and coated its broken end with the poisonous fluid. Immediately, he gripped the bone with both hands and stabbed it into Miao Weng’s neck.

“Die!”

Crack!

The cow bone shattered into pieces.

Miao Weng had blocked it with the back of his other hand.

“Oh?”

True to his nickname “Bloody Hand,” Miao Weng’s hand was reddish and as hard as stone.

“You little piece of flesh.”

Miao Weng threw Jin Ja-gang to the ground.

“Kugh!”

Jin Ja-gang felt an impact as if his spine had shattered.

Miao Weng rubbed his hand.

“What is this brat? Why didn’t the acupressure work?”

Various emotions flickered in Miao Weng’s eyes. At first, he showed no agitation, just disbelief, but immediately afterward, confusion set in.

Suddenly, Miao Weng fell to his knees.

Thud.

“What, what is this!”

Miao Weng couldn’t believe it. His hand hurt so much that when he looked at it, he saw it was severely swollen.

Though the skin had only been slightly scratched.

“Po-poison?”

There was no other explanation.

Miao Weng hurriedly tried to summon his internal energy to slow the spread of the poison, but his reaction was too late.

His arm burned as if on fire, and his head felt dizzy, making it difficult to stand properly. Meanwhile, one arm had swollen so much that he couldn’t even bend it.

‘Extreme poison!’

Never in his life had he encountered such a deadly poison. And that from just a tiny amount grazing him.

With poison this potent, he should have defended with his internal energy the moment he was struck. He had been a bit too slow. Now, even acupressure would be useless.

This was naturally the case with the essence of Stone Milk of Mount Kunlun accumulated over thousands or tens of thousands of years, but Miao Weng had no way of knowing that.

‘I let my guard down!’

Who would have thought such a child would possess such poison? Had he known, he would have immediately prepared for poisoning.

In any case, as a martial artist from a sect that specialized in poisons, he couldn’t die like this.

Miao Weng thought quickly.

‘How many breaths have I taken?’