Chronicles of the Northern Heavens Chapter 138 - Jin-myeong's Tears
In the military camp on the outskirts of the city center, the place tasked with maintaining order was thrown into utter chaos by the flood of wounded soldiers.
There, Jin-myeong and the disciples of the Mudang Sect were gathered. Though Jin-myeong's injuries had been severe, the physician's swift intervention had pulled him through the crisis. Still, he had been ordered to remain bedridden, forbidden from moving carelessly. His disciples kept vigil at his side, the atmosphere thick with grief.
No one rejoiced at their survival. Instead, tears flowed freely for the fact that they alone had made it out alive.
Hiding his own inner turmoil, Jin-myeong comforted them before their tear-streaked faces.
"We who survived bear a sacred duty. You all know what it is without me saying it. So steel your hearts—grieve not, rage not. To gather our scattered brethren and rise again, we must endure first."
"……."
When no one replied, flames kindled in Jin-myeong's eyes.
"Have you already given up?!"
"No, sir!"
"Then wipe away those tears first!"
"Yes, sir!"
His emotions surged, bringing a wave of pain and ragged breaths.
Just then, the door creaked open, and Seo-wi-ryang entered. He stopped Jin-myeong from rising.
"Please, just lie still."
"What of that man...?"
"He's still breathing, but the physician says we must watch him for a few days. He's tough, though—he'll pull through for sure."
"He bestowed upon us a debt of gratitude too vast to repay even in death. Please, save him. If we're denied even the chance to return his favor, none of us will rest easy in the grave."
"Don't worry. He'll shake it off soon enough, like nothing happened." Seo-wi-ryang offered a faint smile as he reassured Jin-myeong, then continued. "My lord commands that you all be brought to the Iron Blood Clan. Of course, if you prefer, he'll send you wherever you wish... but come with us."
"……."
Jin-myeong could not answer. It was something he ought to be grateful for, yet his heart rebelled at accepting so readily. The past was the past. Even so, the Northern Murim had shed blood without hesitation to save them. He'd heard that despite their overwhelming victory, there were still notable casualties and wounded.
"He told my lord, just before losing consciousness, that the Mudang Sect must be helped. For his sake alone, come with us."
Tremble...
Jin-myeong's gaze wavered. The Yuksoon he'd seen had been as good as dead. And yet, in that state, he'd spoken such words.
'Why go that far...'
Looking back, Yuksoon had been little more than a fleeting acquaintance. Yet he'd fought at their side to the end against the Golden Merchant Group.
"I'll tell my lord you're coming. Rest well, then."
"Wait."
"Something else...?"
"Tell him we humbly accept his debt. And that we will surely repay this grace."
"Better say it to him yourself later. Farewell."
As Seo-wi-ryang departed, Jin-myeong gazed at the ceiling and let out a deep sigh.
"Haa..."
"We can repay the debt twofold, can't we? Put aside other thoughts and focus on recovering—for our sakes if nothing else, Martial Uncle."
Just then, Seo-wi-ryang poked his head back through the door.
"Meal's set out in the courtyard. Come fill your stomachs."
"We're fine."
"Times like these, you eat more and move harder. Now come on."
"He's right. Everyone, go on out."
In the end, the disciples followed Seo-wi-ryang to the yard. Left alone, Jin-myeong finally let his pent-up tears fall.
'I'm sorry, Senior Brother. For the sect's revival, it should have been me dead and you alive...'
Yuksoon had yet to regain consciousness.
Yeon-hoo couldn't tear his eyes from the man's face, serene as if merely asleep. The physician had warned that while the external wounds weren't the worst, the poison burrowed deep inside posed the greater threat—and its effects were impossible to predict.
'I can't lose him here.'
Yuksoon had postponed his revenge for Yeon-hoo's sake. And he'd been a steadfast pillar at his side all this time.
"Lady Dongbang is on her way, my lord. Don't worry too much—she'll restore him to his old self."
Cheol-u's words of comfort fell on deaf ears. Seeing Yeon-hoo's silence, Cheol-u fell quiet as well.
Then, the door opened softly. Dongbang Ri entered, Seo-wi-ryang close behind.
Yeon-hoo fixed his gaze on her. Her flushed cheeks and labored breaths spoke volumes of her urgency. She'd likely rushed here without rest.
Dongbang Ri offered no greeting and went straight to examining Yuksoon. All watched her with heavy hearts.
After about an incense stick's time...
"Acupuncture first... My lord, I'll need your help."
"Understood."
Thud.
Dongbang Ri pulled a small pouch from her sleeve and set it on the table, then opened the acupuncture case inside. A array of gleaming needles of every color caught the light, and Seo-wi-ryang turned away, unable to watch.
"You two, step out..."
"Yes."
As Cheol-u and Seo-wi-ryang exited, Dongbang Ri turned to Yeon-hoo.
"Undress him first."
Yeon-hoo silently removed Yuksoon's clothes. Dongbang Ri had turned away.
"He's bare."
"Then we begin."
Dongbang Ri wasn't the only one who'd come. Baek Mu Yeong had dropped everything upon hearing of Yuksoon's plight and rushed over. He'd gotten the details from Cheol-u and Seo-wi-ryang.
"Got any liquor?"
"Here."
Gulp, gulp!
Baek Mu Yeong downed the bottle straight.
Thud!
"No special orders on the Golden Merchant Group?"
"Just to hold and not act on our own until commanded."
"We gotta pay 'em back."
Seeing the killing intent blazing in Baek Mu Yeong's eyes, Cheol-u swallowed other words.
Baek Mu Yeong cherished his brothers more than anyone. That's why everyone trusted and followed him as much as Yeon-hoo—even Cheol-u. There were things he couldn't say to Yeon-hoo that he'd confide in Baek Mu Yeong, who always bolstered him.
"When retribution's ordered, we'll repay tenfold, a hundredfold. Until then, cool your head, brother."
"Can you?"
"...Enduring. It's time to hold back."
Seo-wi-ryang spoke up.
"The Ghost Corps are blood enemies to him. That's probably why he charged in despite his wounds."
"Not just that."
"...Pardon?"
Cheol-u continued.
"He felt indebted to the Mudang Sect. No need to, but that soft-hearted fool blamed himself and my lord for their fall. Couldn't stand by. Perhaps..."
"You think my lord felt the same?"
"That's my read. Otherwise, with the North's foundations to shore up, he'd have sent the Blood King instead of going himself."
Baek Mu Yeong chimed in.
"Right. My lord seems merciless, but he's the most just of all. Likely saw the Mudang Sect's near-annihilation as his fault because of you."
"Will the Hwasan Sect survivors make it?"
"Search orders are out—wait and see."
Then, Dongbang Ri emerged.
The three halted their talk and rose, eyes on her.
Seo-wi-ryang asked.
"How is he?"
"Crisis averted, thankfully... but."
Her trailing words hung, filling them with dread.
Dongbang Ri sighed before continuing.
"Without heaven's grace, he may lose his sight forever. The poison spread fast after he overexerted his qi while poisoned..."
Baek Mu Yeong slumped to the floor. Cheol-u closed his eyes tightly. Seo-wi-ryang's eyes reddened.
Dongbang Ri comforted them.
"There's still a sliver of hope... Let's cling to that and wait."
"Odds of restoring his vision?"
"If fortune favors... Rest now."
Dongbang Ri gave no firm answer and left. Her vagueness deepened their unease.
Her voice drifted from outside.
"My lord says no visitors. He'll watch till he wakes."
Drip...
Seo-wi-ryang's tears finally spilled. Yuksoon's state hurt, but gauging Yeon-hoo's grief made his own flow unbidden.
Warriors in the camp had pots boiling in the yard, cooking rice. The kitchens buzzed, and in one corner, Demon Corps members roasted whole pigs.
"Best cuts to my lord—save 'em right!"
"No need to tell me twice, punk!"
Despite two fallen and many wounded, the Demon Corps remained boisterous. Death was their daily bread, and falling in battle their highest honor.
The Mudang Sect disciples, leaving Jin-myeong behind, sat huddled nearby, watching listlessly.
One spoke up.
"They risked life and limb for us. Let's get up and help!"
"Yeah, it's the least we can do!"
They headed toward the Demon Corps. Sin U, emerging just then, blocked them.
"Hey, you lot."
"...Yes?"
"Taoists grilling meat? Nah, rest till rice is done."
"No, we'll help."
"I said it's fine."
"Let us! Helping eases our hearts a bit!"
Sin U furrowed his brow, then calmed as an idea struck.
"One favor, then?"
"Anything—name it."
"Follow."
Sin U led the Mudang Sect disciples north through camp. There, white shrouds covered neat rows of corpses—the Blood King Army fallen to the Golden Merchant Group.
Sin U's gaze burned with fury and sorrow. Their task: secure the shrouds against the wind. Sin U joined them.
In the solemn silence, some disciples wept as they worked, memories of that horrific day resurfacing.
Sin U asked them.
"Don't you want to return to Mudang Mountain?"
"We do. We'll gather the scattered, build our strength, and reclaim our sect!"
"Then no more tears. Save 'em—sweat and blood if you must, but never tears again."