Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25: My Groom
The ruins were a damp cave. Torches hung from the walls and various spots, their wicks suggesting they'd been lit not long ago.
The floor was a muddy mess from the moisture, and moss covered the rocks, making everything treacherously slick.
Even I, who knew nothing about tracking, could see footprints stamped all over the place. But that was about it. The martial artists were different. They crouched down one by one, nodding thoughtfully.
"The group ahead numbers roughly thirty,"
Dang Si Hyeok said, rising from where he'd been squatting on the floor.
As expected of the Tang Clan.
At that moment, Tak Horak, who'd been watching, grumbled with a sour expression.
"Twenty-nine."
As expected of the Black Shadow Corps. No, wait, not that.
I told you not to butt in, and here you go again. Sure enough, Dang Si Hyeok's gaze shifted to Tak Horak.
"It seems your subordinate is skilled in tracking, brother?"
"I know a little."
"Oh? Talking tracking in front of the Tang Clan?"
"Pfft!"
Tak Horak burst out laughing. It was blatant mockery.
"...You laugh?"
"Ah, sorry. I'm ignorant of the jianghu, so I didn't know the Tang Clan excelled at tracking."
"This bastard?"
The atmosphere turned hostile in an instant.
In truth, similar clashes had repeated over the week-long journey to the ruins. Tak Horak and Dang Si Hyeok kept needling each other in a petty rivalry.
The reason was simple: a contest of loyalty.
Dang Si Hyeok had given me a Tang Clan poison pellet, signaling he wanted me as an ally in the succession race—and he was proving his competence with every fiber of his being.
Tak Horak, who'd long claimed to be my loyal subordinate, was responding with territorial bullying.
"Enough."
I spoke to Sa Wol beside me.
"Sa Wol. Total number of them?"
"Exactly thirty-three. Some footprints overlap."
"Hear that? Both of you were wrong."
Dang Si Hyeok and Tak Horak both shut up like they'd eaten honey.
"This isn't the time for us to bicker. We can't let those ahead claim the sage's ruins. Show some restraint, Horak."
"...My apologies."
Being around them, I'd started calling Tak Horak without the family name. Using a spear marked him as from the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
If I could transmit voice, I'd chew him out till his ears bled.
"Move out."
We walked another five minutes.
The narrow, steep cave widened and gentled the deeper we went. The stone was polished smooth, like it had been meticulously carved and buffed. Now that's more like ruins.
But Un Yeop Ja, staring at the walls, looked pale.
"What's wrong?"
"Does this not unsettle you at all, young hero?"
"What do you mean?"
"This cave... it's all been artificially carved out. By a single person, no less. Probably using gang qi."
A genius like Un Yeop Ja, who grasped truths from a single phrase, could see it. Guess intelligence nerfs don't apply to martial arts.
"Yet you remain so calm upon seeing this..."
"Eh, I'm used to it."
I shrugged it off. Most ruins in Murim Returner were made by bored peak experts anyway.
"Impressive, brother."
Dang Si Hyeok, who'd been listening quietly, spoke up.
"What is?"
"Gang qi, which causes a fuss in the jianghu, is commonplace to you."
Un Yeop Ja, overhearing our exchange, seemed to have misunderstood. Admiration filled his eyes.
Such misconceptions were always welcome.
"So that's how it is. I was a frog in a well."
Shudder!
Un Yeop Ja suddenly trembled all over after speaking. What, not turning into a Pokémon here, is he?
"What's that?"
"Ah, the cave draft is chilly."
"..."
We pressed on, reaching a fork. Classic ruins tactic—forcing a choice.
Footprints cluttered the left path, strides widening like they'd used lightness skill.
"We'll follow the footprints."
I blocked Dang Si Hyeok as he moved to stride ahead.
"We go right."
"Pardon? But... well, you must have your reasons, brother."
I nodded shamelessly. Not really reasons, though.
I just knew who was ahead—and their habits. At forks, they always left traces on the opposite path.
This is what Murim Returner otaku knowledge is for.
We took the right. Sure enough, footprints suddenly appeared soon after, as if conjured from thin air.
"Young hero."
Un Yeop Ja asked.
"You seem to know who those ahead are."
"Yeah, I have a rough idea."
Actually, I knew exactly. That's why I was so relaxed.
"Who?"
"The Fat Warehouse Group."
A literal translation: a group that fattens warehouses. And that's exactly what they did.
"Fat Warehouse Group?"
Everyone tilted their heads. They hadn't gained infamy yet. In three years, though, they'd be notorious.
"Professional relic hunters. They loot ruins for treasures."
Relics had no owners, but later they'd raid major sects' vaults—or even graves—becoming a massive headache.
Especially their leader... a real loose cannon. Especially considering his lineage.
"...So we should hurry and catch up, right? I'll scout ahead."
Un Yeop Ja looked ready to remove his wrist and ankle rings. Left alone, he'd fly off with Dragon Flight Eight Forms.
"I'll take point and dismantle traps! I've been handling them since childhood—easy work."
"No need for either."
I shook my head with a smile.
"There's an Eastern saying: 'blow your nose without using your hands.'"
"What does that mean?"
"The Fat Warehouse Group is clearing all the traps ahead. We just follow."
Both looked skeptical.
Moments later.
"Just as you said, brother. Traces here. Or rather, debris."
Dang Si Hyeok's face showed genuine admiration.
And for good reason—the scene before us.
Arrows embedded in walls, spears inverted from collapsed floors with blades upthrust. All dismantled, reduced to rubble piles.
This was beginner stuff, barely qualifying as formations. Even first-rate could swat incoming arrows aside.
Anyway, my guess was spot-on.
"Guess the Fat Warehouse Group's pretty skilled, brother."
"You could solo this."
"Of course. Tang direct descendants master this by age ten."
Pride lit Dang Si Hyeok's face. No wonder Tang folk get called righteous cosplayers. What upright clan trains kids in traps at ten?
Of course, this was just a welcome—or warning. Stronger ones followed.
The real fun starts with formations.
Formations.
In Murim Returner, they twisted natural qi for phenomena—wuxia magic, basically.
Combined with classic traps, even experts couldn't relax.
Thanks, Fat Warehouse Group.
For dismantling these pains. I couldn't handle them properly. Pa Cheon-trained body might react to a few, but not more.
We advanced carefully, avoiding untouched spots.
A soft-featured man unfit for relic delving stood there—a scholar, not a warrior. Oddly laden with earrings, necklaces, rings.
He scowled, staring intently ahead. Thick mist shrouded his nose—like an invisible wall. One more step, and the formation would hit.
The scholar crouched, scribbling and erasing complex runes on the ground with a twig.
Soon, he nodded, stood, and turned.
"Three steps left. Two forward. One right. Leap midair, air slash... finally, one cat-step. Got it?"
"Yaaawn—how're we memorizing all that."
"I warned you formations are dangerous."
"Whatever. Move."
A petite woman shoved him aside. Girl-like in frailty.
But a massive dao hung over her shoulder—nearly her height. She advanced unfazed by its weight.
"Why memorize? Just smash."
"But rashly breaking a formation—"
The scholar's words cut off. She'd swung the dao hard. Not "slashed"—swung, given its absurd size and girth.
Bam!
A ferocious wind from the swing blasted the mist. Astonishing dao wind from peak realm.
The revealed path: a precarious ledge over an abyss, barely shoulder-wide for two.
"See? Easy."
"Look."
The scholar grumbled. Sure enough, the mist rolled back.
"Who breaks formations like a brute?"
"Hmph. Once fails? Swing more. Move."
The scholar sighed. Once her stubbornness kicked in, she was a bull ignoring all counsel.
"Kids. Big sis says step back."
"Yessir~."
Dozens behind retreated smartly. No one wanted to tangle with that savage dao strike.
She won't collapse it, right?
A chill thought, but he shook it off. The ruin-maker wasn't that sloppy.
"Hah!"
The woman roared before the mist. Then—
Bzzzzt!
Red qi surged along her dao—gang qi verge, ultra-high realm.
As she swung—
"Everyone, dodge!"
She spun backward, slamming the dao down.
Krunch!
A red-charged crescent dao wind skimmed the floor like a shark's fin breaking water, raging forward.
"Wh-what!"
"Evade!"
Her crew scattered. The dragged-back scholar ground his teeth.
"What the hell!"
"Rats."
She pointed her massive dao one-handed.
Gazes followed.
"..."
There stood Sado Hwan.
"Who the hell are you!"
The Fat Warehouse Group drew weapons in a flash.
Sado Hwan's group followed suit.
But Dang Si Hyeok, gripping hidden weapons grimly, blurted in bewilderment,
"Paeng So So?"
"...Dang Si Hyeok?"
"You're the Fat Warehouse Group's leader? Brother, did you know?"
Paeng So So's eyes followed to Sado Hwan's face. They widened like saucers.
"Found you."
A smile curled Paeng So So's lips.
"My groom."