Chapter 51
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: Mutual Thoughts
Four Thousand Four moved with deliberate leisure.
The manor was completely empty. No people, no animals. Every living creature had vanished cleanly.
There was no reason to rush.
Even so, it wasn't as if no eyes were watching.
Outside the manor, five hundred martial artists still stood encircling it. They had the place sealed tight, without a single gap.
They believed someone was still inside, yet to escape.
With that conviction driving their siege, they wouldn't dismantle the encirclement until they'd searched every inch of the manor.
And with that mindset, their watchful gazes were bound to be sharp.
Even now, they kept the manor under surveillance, eyes fixed for any movement.
Mindful of those stares, Four Thousand Four calmly crossed the outer gates. He entered the inner compound, poked around here and there, then stepped into the chief steward's office.
All his actions had been spotted by them.
It didn't matter. They couldn't set foot inside until the poison wore off anyway.
He picked out the plainest outfit from the steward's wardrobe and slipped it on.
It had been ages since he'd brewed and sipped some tea. He fetched rice from the storeroom and cooked himself a meal.
Everything, of course, was laced with poison.
The tea leaves, the rice, the water for brewing the tea and boiling the rice—all infused with toxin.
Far milder than what the elder had scattered, but still potent enough to kill.
Four Thousand Four ate his rice and drank his tea without a care.
Bathing in it was fine, wearing poison-soaked clothes was fine. Eating it? That should neutralize it too. He didn't know why, but it did.
As he ate, he closely monitored the changes in his organs.
When the rice hit his stomach, he checked for pain. Even the slightest discomfort, and he'd set down his chopsticks. But no pain came.
The rice just tasted good.
There was a faint bitterness from the poison, a sharp tang too. Sometimes it felt bland... One bite, and a riot of flavors hit his tongue.
It must contain quite a lot of poison.
Four Thousand Four steeled himself for half-death.
Mild or not, ingesting this much would bring severe stomach cramps. Diarrhea wouldn't be mild either. Fever might spike hard.
Still better than starving.
He'd eaten that rat, but mostly raw, barely keeping starvation at bay.
He'd rested deep in 'One' without a thought in his head, but his stamina had drained badly.
He needed to fill his belly with rice and rest until it digested.
With his stomach full and warm tea in sips, Four Thousand Four muttered to himself.
"Nice."
"We'll run the guidance trial once more at midnight. By then, it should be mostly neutralized... What do you think? If the trial checks out, we'll head in right away?"
"Any other way besides that?"
Ilseom Mido glanced at the cat before asking.
"There is. But it'd take time to prepare. We never imagined it'd end up like this. No reason to bring antidote herbs."
"Can't get those antidote herbs around here?"
"None available. 'Antidote herbs' is a catch-all term, but there are plenty to gather. Besides, this trial method works fine. It's one of the proven ways."
"Understood. If the trial confirms it's safe, we'll go right in."
Sanginsa-do eyed the assassin. The bastard was strolling the manor carefree, even cooking and eating.
How was he unscathed in there?
The poison expert who could explain best was right beside him. Yet the elder said nothing, calling it inexplicable.
Did the bastard have a Poison Saint Body, immune to toxins?
No. He'd definitely been poisoned.
They'd seen him crawling on all fours into the main hall, unable to even stand.
Either way, they couldn't enter the poison-filled manor. So they waited for the antidote to take effect.
Cheongsu Sangdo asked about the timing.
"What if it's not neutralized by midnight?"
"Possible. That's why we're testing with this cat. If it works, we go in. If not, we'll try again around the hour of the ox. But midnight should do it."
Sanginsa-do stared piercingly at the chief steward's office in the inner compound.
Assassin... The arrogance was beyond belief. He'd even lit an oil lamp in there, as if mocking them: Come kill me if you can.
He'd kill him for sure!
Capture him alive and tear him to shreds.
Four Thousand Four pried up the blue stone tiles from the office floor.
He'd chosen this room among many because it was spacious.
Large offices like this usually had underfloor corridors.
In other words, the floor was hollow. Expose the bricks on the corridor side of the empty space, and it connected outside.
Lifting the stones revealed a pitch-black void below.
He grabbed a single oil lamp and descended underneath.
The soil's texture met his feet. Stone pillars supporting the structure dotted the space here and there.
As expected, the sides were walled off. But not thickly. Just earthen bricks stacked more for show than strength.
Break through there, and he'd reach under the corridor.
He approached the brick wall and pressed his ear to the outer movements.
Sasasak! Sasasak!
Footsteps pattered busily.
Sounds from beyond the outer wall, but to him, they boomed like thunder.
Judging by the footsteps... the assault was imminent.
"Hoo!"
He blew out the lamp in his mouth. Then shoved the wall hard, dislodging one brick.
The wall crumbled easily.
These under-corridor barriers were made to break down when needed—for floor repairs in the office above.
He slipped out.
Time had passed the hour of the boar; utter darkness blanketed everything. Yet all around blazed like daylight. Moon bright, stars bright... and the martial artists' torches flared brilliantly.
Encircling light everywhere.
Sseut!
He moved. Now... he had to go.
"Kuh!"
"Heuk!"
Crescent Moon Sword Sect disciples dropped like lies.
No attacker struck. No hidden weapons flew. Yet four already lay fallen.
"Wh-what!"
"Ambush?"
"Doesn't seem like an ambush—what is it?"
The Crescent Moon Sword Sect disciples snapped to alert. Already tense as midnight neared, now their east gate disciples were collapsing for no reason.
"Kuh!"
Another one went down.
This time, with everyone on high alert.
No assailant. No whistle of darts. Just standing fine one moment, crumpling the next.
"F-fall back! Fall back! Don't break the encirclement—retreat behind!"
The Crescent Moon Sword Sect disciples pulled back hastily.
They kept the siege intact, of course. Still watched closely for anyone vaulting the walls.
No attacks, yet people kept dropping one by one.
The elder rushed over upon hearing the news.
"This!"
Seeing the fallen warriors, he grasped the situation instantly.
"Any escapees!"
Usually calm, he now pressed urgently.
"None."
"Really none!"
"None."
An elder of the Sacheon Tang Clan or not, barking orders at another sect's disciples was rude. But his face twisted so fiercely, they had no choice but to answer.
"This is my poison!"
"Pardon? This is poi—poison?"
"Ha! Haha! Hahaha! He's using my poison."
"Then these kids?"
"Mild toxin—just unconscious, no threat to life. I'll tend them, so tighten security! Stay vigilant!"
"Don't worry! He's scheming, but no chance!"
The Crescent Moon Sword Sect disciples had suffered once before in the inner compound. Lost ten to the assassin. Unlike the Eul Sword Sect, who'd never clashed directly.
They ground their teeth, eyes blazing.
"Kuh!"
"Guk!"
Eul Sword Sect warriors dropped too.
But they didn't panic. They knew what happened at the northeast wall.
The bastard was harvesting and using the elder's poison.
Fortunately, the manor's poison was dilute. Fainting only—no fatalities.
"He's lashing out! Stay sharp!"
But this time, it wasn't so simple.
"Sect Leader, you... need to see this."
Urgency and dismay laced the voice calling the Eul Sword Sect leader.
A bad feeling gripped him as he rushed over to check his fallen disciple.
"Ugh!"
No need for pulse check.
These disciples were dead on arrival. Not like the Crescent Moon Sect's faint poison. Their faces had turned pitch-black. Blackened blood oozed from every orifice. Dead blood, unmistakably.
Instant death.
"Poison! Poison! Deadly poison!"
The Eul Sword Sect had no countermeasures for lethal toxins. Nor did they know what poison downed their east gate men.
They fell back in a mass.
The encirclement held, but they widened the perimeter slightly.
Such measures did little good.
"Guk!"
"Kuhk!"
Eul Sword Sect disciples clutched their chests and toppled one after another.
This time, the assassin had unleashed in earnest—many fell.
"That bastard!"
The elder erupted in rage.
The poison felling the Eul Sword Sect was also his, scattered in the manor.
He remembered it: the one in the chief steward's office. Mild toxin.
Paralyzes limbs, but doesn't kill.
Even he couldn't fill an entire guest manor with deadly poison. Lethal where life might lurk, mild where unlikely. Just needed to drop the assassin.
What hit Crescent Moon and Eul Sword Sect? All mild toxins.
As he recalled, the poison in the office wardrobe.
The bastard took clothes, shook them in the air. Stirred wind to spread poison dust.
Then why did Eul Sword Sect die? Clearly mild toxin.
The assassin cleverly shot arrows at warriors inhaling the dust and collapsing. Short arrows, about a handspan—fired from a wristbow.
Discolored faces and bleeding orifices? Not the poison. Arrows pierced the nape's Da Chui acupoint, lodging in the brain. Burst vessels caused the symptoms.
What enraged the elder more... the assassin’s strike on Eul Sword Sect revealed something.
He'd already escaped.
He only knocked out Crescent Moon disciples. Didn't break through full force. Would've caused major clash—and not easy.
The assassin pulled the same at the opposite outer southwest.
Over that wall lay the market streets.
Eul Sword Sect guarded tight but retreated—attention scattered. Thought poison just caused faints; now disciples bled out dying. Panic inevitable. And deaths kept coming despite retreat.
The gap was made.
He'd fled.
Midnight cat trial soon. Even if clear, they wouldn't catch him. Not even with Sanginsa-do's grid search.
"Ha! Haha! Hahaha!"
The elder laughed hollowly.