A Worthless Father’s Revenge (3)

“Master!”

It had been a while since he had seen his master, but there was no time to mind formalities.

“Master, where is So-yeon? The patient was poisoned.”

“Poison? Bring him here.”

Unlike Neung Je-gang’s urgency, Nam Yeong spoke leisurely and walked into a room.

“Master, So-yeon is…?”

“Sahyeong! I’m here.”

From where the master had gone in, Je So-yeon came out and waved brightly.

“S-Sahyeong? Hey—why are you coming out of there?”

She came out from the inner-energy practice room where Neung Je-gang trained. As a physician, Je So-yeon had no reason to enter there. And she had always called him “Sahjae,” not “Sahyeong.”

“Quiet. Bring the patient here, quickly.”

“Ah, this kid was poisoned by my venom. Can he be detoxified?”

Following behind Je So-yeon, Neung Je-gang wore a worried look.

“All poisons can be detoxified. I don’t know how vicious Sahyeong’s poison is, but it’s the same.”

Neung Je-gang laid Gwan-an on the dais inside the practice room. The dais was large, so the undergrown boy fit with room to spare.

“What kind of poison is Sahyeong’s?”

“W-well… I don’t really know. Originally my poison changed into something unknown because of the Demon Doctor.”

“But won’t I be poisoned just by touching this kid right now?”

“Probably. I’m not certain… And he’s not a ‘kid.’ He’s fifteen.”

“Heh! He doesn’t look it… Are you sure you’re not lying?”

“I mean, he said it himself. Why would he lie about his age?”

“True. In any case, we have no choice. We’ll have to test with the most definitive reagents.”

“Test?”

“Sahyeong, collect some of your poison in here.”

Je So-yeon handed him a small stoppered vial. Then she stepped out and soon returned wearing leather gloves up to the shoulders and a gauze-like veil over her face.

“These are made from deerskin—they’re excellent for blocking poison. Pretty, right?”

She was talking about the gloves. They did not look pretty at all, but Neung Je-gang could only agree.

“Sure, pretty.”

“Hehe! Sahyeong is the best. No one has ever called these pretty…”

Saying so, she took out several more jade bottles.

“Done?”

“Here… Yes. And those jade bottles are?”

“What’s inside tells us the nature of the poison. There are three kinds—hemotoxic, neurotoxic, and bushi-toxic. Bushi-toxic is a type of hemotoxin, but its properties differ a bit so it’s sometimes classified separately. Strictly speaking, poisons are of two types: hemotoxic and neurotoxic.”

“I know that much.”

“Hehe—right, of course. I forgot; it’s been so long since I saw Sahyeong.”

Je So-yeon poured a little of Neung Je-gang’s poison into each of the three jade bottles.

“Why do you keep calling me ‘Sahyeong’? That’s not what you used to call me.”

“Oh, that? I’ve decided to take Sahyeong’s master as my master as well. I’m learning martial arts lately.”

“Martial arts? Master doesn’t have arts suited for women… Wait, are you learning that?”

“What?”

“Ice-White Cold Soul Art.”

“Huh? How did you know?”

“Ha! How would I not? I’m cultivating it too. I stumbled upon it and told Master to research it.”

“Oh no, this is bad.”

Je So-yeon suddenly looked troubled, staring closely at the three jade bottles.

“Why?”

“It’s unusual. The result says this contains all three poison types. What do I do? If Grandfather were here, he’d have a way…”

“If there’s no way, do we just watch this child die?”

Neung Je-gang’s face twisted with regret—for trying to protect with poison and ending up endangering Gwan-an.

“There is one method left.”

At some point, Master Nam Yeong had come in.

“Huh? There’s a way?”

“Yes. Not certain—but it may save the boy and benefit you as well.”

“What is it?”

“You will circulate qi beside the boy.”

“Pardon?”

“Think. You opened the Gate of Life and Death. When that opens, you cultivate by drawing the qi of heaven and nature—why should toxic qi be any exception?”

“And if Sahyeong gets poisoned?”

“It’s his poison. How would it poison him? If anything, it’ll act like a tonic.”

“Ah… that might work. Thank you, Master.”

“When circulating, do it in the most perfect manner—use the Sura Mara Energy Method. As much as possible, use it whenever you cultivate. It’s no coincidence the Demon Doctor focused on it.”

“Understood.”

After sending Nam Yeong and Je So-yeon out, Neung Je-gang sat beneath the dais and began circulating for the first time in a while.

Demonic Mara Energy Method.

When he roused the method that had first taken root in his new body, a blaze-like force rose through him like a prairie fire.

Thus Neung Je-gang sank into the trance of circulation, and deep darkness settled over Kuaiji Mountain.

“Whew—!”

Neung Je-gang ceased cultivating and opened his eyes.

“Whatever else, the Demonic Mara method seems to make the body lighter. My internal force also seems to have grown… Beyond this, increases are marginal—but did this kid truly detoxify?”

He examined Gwan-an’s body, whose vital and devil points he had sealed.

“He really is detoxified.”

Even breathing and a relaxed expression had returned to the boy’s face.

“Maybe I should use the Demonic Mara method whenever I employ poison. It seems effective at governing venom… Who knows, I might even reach the realm of freely exhaling and absorbing poison. Useful or not, I don’t like poison—better to refrain from using it whenever possible.”

Perhaps because Gwan-an was saved, Neung Je-gang felt at peace.

Day broke. He introduced Gwan-an to the children studying medicine and arranged for him to live there. Though older in years, he needed to grow healthier before learning martial arts.

“Master, please accept this.”

Before recounting how he had fulfilled the Martial Alliance’s commission, Neung Je-gang pulled out all the money from his robe. Nam Yeong’s jaw dropped.

“W-what is this? Did the Martial Alliance give it to fund the mountain?”

“No. The Alliance will send separate funds. This is from assassin groups that tried to kill me.”

“Assassin groups? How long have you even been out in the rivers and lakes that they’re already trying to kill you? Did they discover your old identity?”

“No. Actually…”

Neung Je-gang told in detail what had happened since leaving Kuaiji Mountain.

“Long ago I saw Martial Alliance figures. From your description, the man you met must be the Alliance Lord.”

“He’s the Alliance Lord?”

“Yes. If the ‘Whirlwind Sword’ spoke of the Blood Calamity of the Necromancer Cult, it fits. Back then the Lord chanced upon the cult’s base and alerted the martial world, allowing its suppression. Though they did not capture the cult leader, it was thanks to him the cult kept its head down for fifty years.”

Neung Je-gang knew the story of that Blood Calamity—he had learned it in the Eastern Depot.

But he had not known who the decisive figure was.

“I see. Then it makes sense the Inspector-in-Chief didn’t believe me.”

“Likely so. I can hardly believe it myself. It could be a scheme to frame him, as you thought. But the problem isn’t only what you identified.”

“Sir?”

“You diagnosed it well—but missed one thing.”

“What is it?”

“You should have told Whirlwind Sword the plot was happening not only in the Martial Alliance, but also in the Black Alliance.”

“Huh? But they’re enemies…”

“Tsks—people who don’t know the martial world talk like that. The Martial Alliance and Black Alliance are, in truth, one body. What do you think their purpose is?”

“Mm…!”

Neung Je-gang could not answer. Nam Yeong’s words upended his black-and-white view.

“After the cult’s rampage was halted fifty years ago, martial artists were uneasy that the cult leader escaped. Another second or third cult could rise any time. So the leaders met and agreed: create the Martial Alliance and the Black Alliance to prevent indiscriminate black-and-white warfare as before.”

“Ah…!”

He had never imagined it. That orthodoxy and unorthodoxy, forever at each other’s throats, had evolved like this.

Nam Yeong continued.

“But such a honeymoon was precarious. If one side had a change of heart, a great blood calamity could erupt.”

“I heard there were many fights, large and small?”

“Compared to the past, those aren’t even fights. Back then, battles on the scale of wars happened almost daily and people died in droves. As the cult stayed hidden for decades, unease grew. With a new generation, the urge to return to black-and-white conflict strengthened. Even so, leaders on both sides who had seen the cult’s Blood Calamity remained and steered through crises.”

“That is fortunate.”

“Assassins prospered as a result. Since the two sides could not fight openly, their up-and-coming experts hired assassins to wage proxy wars, which birthed the Ten Contract Houses, and the like. Of course, assassins who hunted assassins—like the previous Secret Shadow—also arose.”

“Ah…!”

That was why Secret Shadow was called the greatest assassin—an assassin who hunted assassins. Hence assassin groups had raged to eliminate him.

“In such a world, word spread that the Necromancer Cult had reappeared. The Martial Alliance and Black Alliance, per their pact, joined forces to hunt it down. Thus, the two are not two but one.”

“I understand.”

“Then consider this—would a cult that infiltrated the Martial Alliance leave the Black Alliance alone?”

“Of course not.”

“Which is why you should have told Whirlwind Sword—if he knows, the Black Alliance will know.”

“I didn’t realize. Should I inform them now?”

“No need. You don’t have to go. We’ll send a family from the Fortress. The Mole said he’d come in a few days, so don’t leave.”

“Uncle Bibun is coming? Then Majil will come too. Haha, I wonder how Majil has changed.”

“I hear that child, Majil, has unexpected talent. The Mole complained he had nothing more to teach in so short a time.”

“Hahaha! Really?”

It was a leisurely day of master and disciple chatting without end.

But, as always, the heavens disliked Neung Je-gang being idle and at peace.

Bang!

“Great Fortress Lord! Little Fortress Looord!”

A small child burst in, panting—crashing straight into the master’s room without ceremony.

“A-seon, what is it?”

Neung Je-gang scolded. The rudeness was too much.

“The Divine Doctor is—the divine doctor is dying! Waaah!”

Kwahng!

Scolding A-seon for rudeness, Neung Je-gang instead smashed the door and bolted out—so fast the sobbing child’s eyes went wide.

He hurried because the only one they called Divine Doctor could be Je So-yeon. Even after she became Nam Yeong’s formal disciple, the children still called her “Crybaby Divine Physician,” or simply Divine Doctor.

Where Je So-yeon taught the children simple medicine, a crowd had already gathered. They parted quickly when Neung Je-gang appeared.

He could not grasp the situation. Je So-yeon lay bleeding from the lower abdomen, while Gwan-an—the boy he had just saved—was pinned face-down by the Fortress guards, a bloodied dagger in his hand.

“W-what…?”

“That brat—he stabbed the Divine Doctor! He suddenly—”

The fingers of the children pointed—at Gwan-an.

“Move!”

Neung Je-gang hurried to check Je So-yeon’s pulse. Though she had been stabbed, it was not so critical as to kill her at once.

But the problem was that the blade had nicked her dantian.

He gently lifted her and carried her to her room, where all her medical tools were kept.

He bared the wound, diagnosed, prescribed, and treated. Then he pressed points to let her sleep without pain, and returned to Gwan-an.

In the meantime, the boy’s lip bled and bruises mottled him—apparently from the children and guards.

“Why did you do it?”

At the icy voice, Gwan-an shrank.

“I asked—why?”

“R-revenge.”

He forced the words out—with a look that, strangely, seemed to be smiling.

“Revenge? Is she your enemy?”

“N-no…”

“Then what? What revenge?”

“F-for my father. My only blood…”

“What?”

Neung Je-gang did not understand—but as the boy continued, he was left speechless.

“So I had to kill someone precious to you, too…”

“…”

“Heh.”

Gwan-an smiled. Thinking he had struck a blow to the heart, he wore a bright grin Neung Je-gang had never seen.

“Whew… Who is your father?”

So there was revenge like this. But he had to know whose.

“Gwan Sam.”

“Never heard of him.”

“I saw it—clearly. You cutting off my father Geum Bak-eo’s head. Heh-heh-heh!”

“…You’re Geum Bak-eo’s son?”

He had not expected a cur like Geum Bak-eo to have a son who would avenge him. But if one thought of the victim’s family every time, one could never kill.

“Yes. He was a dog of a man—but still my father. I couldn’t help it. No matter how much of a bastard, he was still my father.”

Honestly, Neung Je-gang was shaken. He knew what the man had been, but the smile that said, “I must avenge him,” looked unbearably sad. Judging by the boy’s stunted growth, that father had not lavished any love on him either.

“Then—was the inn business also…?”

“They were taken back as oarsmen. Father’s men came—no chance to run.”

Seeing Gwan-an spoke more readily than expected, Neung Je-gang asked on.

“Did those people know you were Geum Bak-eo’s son?”

“Some did. And among them were Father’s men.”

So the slaves could not speak because pirates had infiltrated their group.

‘They must have threatened them—open your mouths and die.’

“Ha… I’ve a long way to go. I should have guarded against that possibility.”

“Heh.”

At Gwan-an’s laugh, anger surged in Neung Je-gang—but he calmed himself. He, too, had sought revenge. And no one had died here. Whether or not fellow-suffering applied, he decided to end it here.

“Hoo… Leave. Now.”

It was a hard decision. He would need his master’s permission, but the boy reminded him of himself—so he resolved to let him go.

“What? Y-you won’t kill me?”

Surprised at “leave,” Gwan-an had clearly expected to die.

“I won’t.”

“Heh… And you think I’ll be moved by righteous mercy? If you release me, I’ll target your people again.”

Was he asking to be killed? The threat rang hollow.

“Don’t talk nonsense. Go while I’m letting you. I may change my mind. And—if Geum Bak-eo is your father, your mother is at Danpung Fortress, isn’t she? Or a dear friend—or anyone you rely on? Return and tell them to flee. Do it fast. If you arrive after me, you’ll find everyone at Danpung Fortress dead.”

It was indeed a threat—meant to make him go home.

To Gwan-an, it was terrifying. His body trembled again.

People live by forming bonds—especially one like Gwan-an, neglected by blood family. The pirates who had given him the name “Gwan-an,” the “uncles” he called them—some would still remain at Danpung Fortress.

He staggered up and, without looking back, left the Kuaiji Mountain Fortress and went down the mountain—setting off on the long, harsh road to Danpung in Hubei.

Whether he would return safely, die along the way, or by chance meet a fortuitous encounter, become a master, and one day reappear to take revenge—no one could know.