Land Of Death (1)

“Help! Someone help!”

All of a sudden, Song Seok-jin screamed and rolled wildly across the ground.

“Aaaaaah!”

No one knew why he was thrashing like that.

“What is it? What’s going on?”

When Bae Ji-sang grabbed him and demanded an answer, Song finally sputtered,

“Something’s inside my clothes. It wriggled in—something alive crawled under my clothes. What if it’s venomous? If it bites, I could die!”

At his words, Bae carefully stripped off Song’s layers one by one. What he found was a small spider, crushed flat around the small of the back.

“A venom-spider.”

Bae glanced at it and pronounced it a poisonous species. Since it was a juvenile, it likely didn’t carry lethal venom yet—but if it hadn’t been, Song might indeed have died.

“Should I take an antidote?”

“I don’t think you were envenomed, but if you’re worried, taking one is fine.”

“Whew!”

Song rummaged in his pack, swallowed an antidote, and finally sighed with relief.

“Didn’t I tell you to dress like this? You lot never listen to your elders…”

Old Man Gang frowned at the party.

Even so, it was hard for them to copy his outfit. He wore no upper garment and only the barest scrap below, just enough to cover the crotch. For martial folk who prized decorum, the getup was… a bridge too far.

All the same, they began peeling off the excess layers. The mere thought of something crawling into their clothes was horrifying.

“Oh! That’s cooler.”

With lighter clothing, a little coolness returned. It would only be for a moment, but in the sweltering heat, even that helped.

Only after that commotion did the party truly get moving. The site of the Heavenly Poison Grove’s old base was still far, far away.

Even with Old Man Gang picking the easiest lines, they did not cross a single ridge that day. After three such days, he found a settlement.

“This is a place I used to visit often. They’re a mild-mannered tribe—no need to worry.”

Trusting his assurance, they entered the village.

But the mood was the opposite of mild. Villagers armed with spears and blades surged out, spilling killing intent toward the party.

“These curs…!”

Song Seok-jin and Jo Gwang-yeong drew weapons, ready to strike at that instant. A few hundred Miao tribesmen did not frighten them.

“Don’t be rash. Make them our enemies, and we won’t have a day’s peace in these mountains.”

“You’re right,” Old Man Gang added. “Don’t look down on the Miao because of how they live. Every one of them is a warrior. If you touch them, you’ll end up fighting every tribe in Aenoe Mountain.”

He moved forward and spoke with the Miao in words the party could not understand.

When the talk ended and he returned, his expression had soured.

“What did they say?”

“It’s bad. Someone fought them—and it wasn’t another Miao tribe, but Central Plains men. Dozens of their warriors died, and even the chieftain is dying.”

“Dying?”

“Looks like poison. Their ways of detoxifying aren’t working.”

Neung Je-gang nodded.

If Central Plains men used poison here, it had to be the Heavenly Poison Grove. Their reach clearly extended even to this place.

“If it’s poisoning, we might be able to help.”

“Truly? You can treat it?”

“Tell them we have a poison expert and will try to cure him.”

Old Man Gang relayed Neung Je-gang’s words, but the exchange ran long; they didn’t seem inclined to believe.

“Cheong Yeon.”

“Yes.”

“Can you fell that tree with a single stroke?”

Neung Je-gang pointed to a trunk so thick a man couldn’t encircle it with both arms. Without sword-qi, it would be impossible to cut.

“I can—but why…?”

“The Miao honor warriors. If they see we’re strong, it’ll be easier for the elder to persuade them.”

“Understood.”

As Cheong Yeon drew near the tree, qi rising, Bae Ji-sang sidled up.

“Do we really need to save this chieftain? Couldn’t we just ignore them and move on?”

“The elder has a reason. Let’s wait and see.”

“It’s going down!”

The Miao watched as Cheong Yeon drew his sword. They still leveled spears at the party, wary of what they might do—then, with a single cut, the entire tree separated and toppled.

The Miao who had been speaking with Old Man Gang heard the shouts, turned to see, and went white against his darkened face.

The plan worked. Spears lowered, they beckoned the party into the village.

“Brother Bae, look at the chieftain.”

“Right.”

Bae Ji-sang headed for the chieftain’s house with Old Man Gang, while the others gathered in the village center and, for the first time in a while, cooked food over a fire.

“Chief!”

“What?”

“How strong is that guy… really?”

Majil meant Cheong Yeon. Their bad blood clearly wasn’t over; seeing a tree fall to one stroke had him wondering about Cheong Yeon’s level.

“Why is that what you care about?”

“Heh! I need to know if I can beat him—so I can really put him in his place.”

“Why pick a fight? Still bitter about your ruined dantian?”

“That’s not it. I just… don’t like him. Must be bad karma. Heh.”

Bad karma.

Who knew? Neung Je-gang had his share of ties that could be called ill-fated; it wasn’t entirely nonsense.

“If you can form a Fire Blade a jang long, you might stand a chance.”

“Guh! He’s that strong? Stronger than Jo Gwang-yeong?”

“In my eyes, Jo still wouldn’t beat Cheong Yeon. The way he infused qi into the blade was far smoother.”

“Huh? What’s that mean?”

“Think back to Jo’s duel. He blasted out saber-qi—but it felt forced. Cheong Yeon, though—drawing and emitting qi looked completely natural. If he forced it, he could probably hew stone.”

Majil looked a little deflated, then quickly brightened.

“Then I’ll melt stone.”

When True Fire Energy reached its height, perhaps it would be possible—but first he had to find Cold-Water True Energy; to grow Yang greatly, Yin had to be nurtured alongside.

“Work at it.”

“Got it, Chief! Heh! By the way, I’m still your only subordinate, right?”

“Heh. Yes.”

“Knew it.”

Beaming, Majil scampered to the cooking fires and said something to Go So-jeong.

Hearing him out, she came over to Neung Je-gang.

“You called me?”

“Mm? Did I?”

“Yes.”

Neung Je-gang noticed Majil sticking out his tongue.

“Sit.”

Since the night they’d infiltrated the Eastern Depot in Guilin, he hadn’t talked much with her. Not on purpose—but it might have felt like he was keeping his distance.

“Is this hard on you?”

“It is.”

Most people would say “No” at a time like this, but Go So-jeong was brutally honest. Whether she meant body or heart, he couldn’t tell.

“Sorry. You should have stayed with the Black Alliance.”

“That’s not it. If I’d wanted to stay there, I would have gone back to the Martial Alliance. Thanks to the Ice Essence Crystal, I’m not hot, and my body feels light—it’s good. It’s just…”

She trailed off, as if she wanted to say something but found it hard.

“Just… what? If there’s something you want to say, say it. I’ll hear whatever I can.”

“All right, I’ll say it. I’ve had to swallow my temper because of somebody, and I feel like it’s making me sick. I can’t even speak freely… and keeping my mouth shut has a few creeps thinking I’m meek and making passes… anyway, that’s how it is.”

“Mm…”

He had no ready reply. He was the one who’d pressed her to keep that temper down; hearing it might be making her ill—perhaps he had gone too far.

“We can’t have you getting sick. Do as you like, Lady Go. As long as you don’t get in my way, I don’t care what you do.”

“Really?”

He nodded. In that instant, the calm glow in her eyes seemed to flare like a blaze.

“Did I just make a mistake?”

He caught himself worrying.

“Surely nothing will come of it…”

He tried to reassure himself—but he could not shake the concern.