Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Poison Toad's Doubts
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"No way."
Poison Toad Dang Jinhu.
He stiffened his toad-like face and shook his head. Though he said as much, Dang Jinhu couldn't completely dismiss the possibility.
Wi Seongcheon, the son of the Heavenly Flower Sect Leader. Even in Dang Jinhu's eyes, he was no ordinary man.
"But, Uncle. If it's Won Gwangbul..."
"That's absurd."
Dang Jinhu shook his head again at Dang Heeran's probing words.
"Won Gwangbul, the Circle-Light Buddha. What connection could he possibly have with the Heavenly Flower Sect to write a recommendation letter?"
There was no such thing. Who was Won Gwangbul? He had served as both Shaolin Abbot and Murim Alliance Leader—a man whose seniority surpassed even the Ten Heroes or the elders of the Nine Great Righteous Sects.
Ten years ago, he had declared seclusion and holed up in the Shaolin Mountains. What tie could he have to the Heavenly Flower Sect to write such a letter?
"Then... is it fake?"
"That... Hmm..."
Dang Jinhu trailed off. He began to rack his brains. A martial arts luminary who could stamp the seal of "Won" and write a recommendation for the Heavenly Academy.
...No matter how he thought about it, no one else came to mind besides Won Gwangbul.
"...If that recommendation letter is fake, it won't end with mere disgrace. Venerable Won Gwangbul is revered by every righteous sect. If the letter is forged, the Heavenly Academy's Chief would fly into a rage upon opening it and beat the Heavenly Flower Sect's young master to death."
"Wi Seongcheon said he received the letter directly from his father, the Heavenly Flower Sect Leader."
"Perhaps the Sect Leader intends to kill his own son... No, that's even more ridiculous."
Dang Jinhu muttered with a troubled expression.
It wasn't unheard of for blood father and son to live like enemies. Perhaps the Heavenly Flower Sect Leader truly wished his son dead, but such a trap would backfire on the sect itself. Won Gwangbul's name was not so cheap as to be used in a petty scheme like this.
So, was it real? It defied common sense... but all logic pointed to the letter being genuine. Dang Jinhu glanced sideways at Wi Seongcheon.
He stood alone near the stables, gazing up at the drifting clouds.
An utterly inscrutable fellow. Setting aside his manner of speech or background, Dang Jinhu sensed something uncanny about this young man named Wi Seongcheon.
For any martial artist who had cultivated internal arts, their training inevitably showed on the surface, be it much or little. To a warrior, martial arts were life itself.
The qi accumulated in the body under the name of internal energy altered not just one's constitution, but one's very temperament.
Those who practiced ferocious techniques exuded a savage aura, while demonic cultivators who had harmed countless lives evoked the stench of blood with a mere glance.
The same went for righteous sect arts.
Shaolin techniques calmed the mind simply by facing them, while Daoist arts instilled an enigmatic mystique. Perfectly concealing such traits was the realm of Return to the Truth.
Wi Seongcheon, however...
Impossible to tell. He was certainly not at the Return to the Truth stage. Dang Jinhu could sense something distinct from him, yet he couldn't identify what it was.
"Uncanny" was the perfect word for Wi Seongcheon's temperament. This was especially true regarding his "internal energy."
Dang Jinhu simply couldn't gauge the depth of Wi Seongcheon's internal energy. Was it because he hadn't seen his martial arts in action? That played a part, but...
'External arts...?'
The temperament Wi Seongcheon exuded somewhat resembled that of a master of external arts.
But... it didn't quite add up.
If asked the greatest difference between internal and external arts masters, it was their "bodies." External arts masters tempered their bodies through unique training methods.
External arts masters did cultivate internal energy, but rather than storing it in the dantian, it "melted" throughout their entire body.
With external training overwhelmingly prioritized over internal cultivation, it showed plainly on the outside.
But Wi Seongcheon?
His build wasn't particularly large. Neither his height nor his frame suggested the burly physique of an external arts master.
Of course, not all external arts masters boasted hulking physiques...
Dang Jinhu pressed his throbbing temple. His thoughts wouldn't cease.
Twenty years old. Still young.
Whether external or internal arts, whatever he had trained in should have shown outwardly. Just look at Dang Heeran, and even Dang Jinhu himself wasn't exempt.
Their fingers were long, calluses embedded at the tips. Their nails were kept just long enough to leave faint marks on the palm when making a tight fist.
They wore their clothes slightly loose, no matter what. All to handle hidden weapons.
Their steps were whisper-quiet. Their presence faint without conscious effort. For stealth.
In sealed chambers, they slowed their breathing. Beneath their nails, cultivated for gripping hidden weapons, a toxin-reactive drug was always coated and hardened. All to masterfully wield poisons.
These were habits ingrained in anyone born to the Tang Clan and trained in its arts, so deeply fused with the body that even the craftiest couldn't fully shed them.
Wi Seongcheon... who knew. He used no visible weapon. Hidden weapons, then? Who knew. Weapons in his baggage? Who knew.
Nothing but unknowns.
"Even if Uncle opposes it, I don't mind."
Dang Heeran said stubbornly.
"I'm going with that man. I'm curious what martial arts he's learned... And if that recommendation is truly from Venerable Won Gwangbul, then the Heavenly Flower Sect has some connection to him, one way or another."
"...I understand. I'm just as curious about that young man myself, and it would be rude to back out now. It's not like we're heading somewhere dangerous."
Dang Jinhu nodded. Even as he did, he considered potential contingencies.
This could all be a trap targeting Dang Heeran.
Unlike the Heavenly Flower Sect, the Tang Clan—and one of the Family Head's own children, the Poison Needle Dang Heeran—was a prime target for conspiracies.
"It's taking a while."
"My apologies."
Dang Jinhu returned to where Wi Seongcheon waited and bowed his head. They had already exchanged names.
Poison Toad Dang Jinhu—Wi Seongcheon knew little about him. The martial artists' names he knew were mostly those listed in the booklet from Chief Wu.
If his presence could be detected despite concealment, he probably wasn't that impressive. Such thoughts crossed his mind, but judging from Dang Heeran's attitude, he seemed to hold considerable status within the Tang Clan.
"I've made my preparations."
"...What do you mean?"
"We're traveling separately, aren't we?"
"No."
As Dang Jinhu blinked in confusion, Dang Heeran quickly interjected. Wi Seongcheon shrugged.
"Then, shall we go now?"
"If you're truly fine with it."
"Fine or not, I don't even know where we're headed."
"It's no strange place."
Dang Jinhu moved to fetch the carriage stowed behind the stables. In the meantime, Dang Heeran explained the destination.
"There's a mountain called Samgok Mountain not far from this village. That's where we're going."
"Why?"
"There's a spiritual herb there."
Dang Heeran spoke with a serious expression, but Wi Seongcheon merely blinked.
After observing his reaction for a moment, she made a bored face and cleared her throat.
"...Just kidding."
"I figured."
"Why?"
"If there were spiritual herbs on a nearby mountain, this village would be crawling with hunters after them, or at least rumors would be flying. This place is too quiet. Why make such a joke?"
"I wanted to see you startled."
"Wow, really?"
"Never mind."
Wi Seongcheon exaggeratedly widened his eyes and gaped. It was blatant teasing.
Dang Heeran scowled and shot him a glare.
"We're going to meet someone."
"Who?"
"The Sword of Absolute Death."
Poison Toad Dang Jinhu might not know, but Wi Seongcheon did. The name was in Chief Wu's booklet.
Sword of Absolute Death Seok IJin. One of the Heavenly Academy's instructors.
As he was about to ask why they were meeting Seok IJin at Samgok Mountain, Dang Jinhu pulled up with the carriage.
There was no separate coachman. Leaving Dang Jinhu alone on the driver's seat felt awkward, but sitting beside him up front would be even more so.
That said, being alone with Dang Heeran inside the carriage wasn't without awkwardness. Come to think of it, aside from ten years ago, this was his first time alone with a girl his age.
"It's like a test."
Dang Heeran propped her chin, gazing out the window.
"Two months of vacation—it's not a short time, right? If you leave the Heavenly Academy during break, you have to meet your assigned instructor at a designated spot before returning."
"What do you do when you meet?"
"I wouldn't know. It's my first time. From what seniors say, it varies by instructor... But the most common thing is sparring. A kind of test. It even factors into the semestral evaluations."
"...Evaluations?"
"You didn't know? The Heavenly Academy has exams. Once per semester."
Dang Heeran grumbled.
The Heavenly Academy wasn't a place that unconditionally taught new martial arts.
Think about it. The young geniuses over twenty who entered the Heavenly Academy were all already cultivating their own sects' arts. Purely in terms of martial arts, which was superior?
It was hard to say definitively. What was certain was that the Heavenly Academy's teachings weren't guaranteed to surpass those of the Nine Great Righteous Sects or famed clans.
Thus, what the Heavenly Academy taught wasn't new arts, but "how" to wield the ones they already knew.
Its instructors hailed from diverse sects, but they freely shared "instruction" excluding their unique arts.
They were all proven masters specially invited as instructors. When else would students receive such genuine guidance from such experts, if not in the student-instructor relationship?
"The annoying part is that exams don't just test martial arts. There are sparring tournaments that determine rankings... but they also test academics."
"Ugh."
"The Martial Theory exams are the worst. Each instructor pushes their own martial philosophy. Naturally... the students' philosophies vary too."
Of course, given the Heavenly Academy's nature, practical skills carried heavy weight. No matter how versed in academics or theory, failing to score high in the sparring tournaments would sink one's semestral ranking.
"Still, that's pretty fun. Demonic beast subjugations."
At that, Wi Seongcheon's ears perked up.
Demonic beasts. He'd heard tales many times, but Wi Seongcheon had never seen one in person.
It was only natural. Demonic beasts appeared at the frontlines: Qinghai and Yunnan.
Their origin lay in Xinjiang, stronghold of the Demonic Cult. Rooted in the Demon King and worshiping him, the Demonic Cult had spent ages disrupting the world through myriad schemes.
Demonic beasts were their most persistent and horrific calamity. Unlike the Demon King whose descent was unpredictable, demonic beasts had plagued the world for centuries.
They came in diverse forms, resistant even to swords, making them impossible for third-rate fighters to face.
They craved human flesh, rendering them far more terrifying to civilians than bandits or plague.
"Have you ever seen a demonic beast for real?"
"No. Gangseo, where the Heavenly Flower Sect is, has none."
"Sichuan... they've started appearing a few years ago. So I've had plenty of pre-learning."
Dang Heeran's face soured.
"Chongqing's the same. Lately, demonic beasts have been showing up there too, rarely."
All of it sowed unrest across the world.
Thirty years ago, the Heavenly Demon Hyeok Wolun slew the Divine One. Yet he had done nothing noteworthy since.
The greatest in history, the unparalleled Heavenly Demon—and his Demonic Cult at its peak—had been silent for thirty years.
Yet demonic beasts were steadily expanding their territory. Creatures that hadn't breached Qinghai and Yunnan for centuries had suddenly surged into Gansu, Sichuan, and Chongqing in recent decades.
Even without the Demonic Cult openly rampaging, something was afoot.
"Ever seen a demonic human?"
Wi Seongcheon asked out of sudden curiosity.
Demonic beasts were ultimately non-human beasts. They might possess superior intelligence, but no beast, however smart, could ever be human.
Demonic humans, however, were human. Humans who cultivated Demonic Cult arts. Or those warped by the Cult's horrific experiments. Demonic humans arose in various ways, but one thing was constant.
They were tainted by demonic qi.
"As if."
Dang Heeran's expression hardened slightly.
"I might've heard braggarts claiming to be demonic fiends, but I've never seen a real demonic human."
The carriage jolted and shook. The ride grew rougher thereafter. The path had turned treacherous. Wi Seongcheon looked out the window.
Before he knew it, the carriage was climbing a mountain road.