Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Firm Ground After Rain (2)
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The sight of a person floating down the river like a log was far more eerie than I'd imagined. Not that I often pictured such bizarre scenes in the first place.
At least her face was turned toward the sky, which was a small mercy. If she'd been flipped over, she would've looked exactly like a corpse. Sua and I quickly hauled the girl onto the bank.
She appeared to be around Sua's age. Her skin was as pale as a corpse's, and her hair was the same ghostly white—not the silver of white hair, but the worn, frayed shade of something rubbed raw over time.
I could tell right away that the girl had been through something unnatural. Her fingertips were covered in scratches, as if she'd been clawing at something hard for a long time.
"It's like she's been scraping at rock or a wall for ages..."
"Do you have some idea what it might be, Master?"
"No, nothing certain. But these wounds are no joke, so let's get her back to the house first."
"Understood."
Luckily, aside from some bruises and swelling from a fall from a height—no broken bones—there weren't any serious external injuries. I could manage basic splints for first aid.
Still, for proper treatment, we'd need to show her to the village doctor. That said, it would have to wait until she regained consciousness and could move on her own.
Forcing her to be carried while unconscious might aggravate the injuries. In the end, our only option was to fetch the doctor here.
"Shall I go call him?"
"No, moving alone right now is too dangerous."
"Pardon? What do you mean...?"
"I don't know the full story, but it looks like she was being chased by someone and threw herself off a high place. She was lucky to survive... but her pursuers might still be nearby."
Sua was a martial artist, faster than any commoner, but her pursuers were likely martial artists too. We might run right into them if we weren't careful.
So the only safe choice was for me—a pinnacle expert—to dash to the village. At my speed, I could make the round trip in less than half a gak. Only then did Sua catch on.
"In that case, I'll carry the girl back to the house."
"Good. I'll fetch the doctor as fast as I can. If any villains show up at the house, don't push yourself—just stall for time."
"I'll remember that."
At the base of Gold Phantom Mountain lay a place called Seochae, home to a doctor named Yi Cheongu. He loved money—a lot—but his skills were the most reliable around.
"You expect me, at my age, to climb this mountain piggyback on some old fogey's back?"
"I've prepared a bolt of fine silk as payment."
"If that's what you want, Great Hero, I'll crawl up the mountain if I have to."
Thank goodness I'd packed that silk just in case. Yi Cheongu, who had balked at first, suddenly brimmed with politeness at the sight of it.
It was quite the spectacle, but treatment came first, so I hoisted the doctor on my back and raced back to the thatched hut as fast as possible.
Fortunately, no one had shown up in the short time I'd been gone—less than half a gak. Sua had been tending to the girl alone without issue.
"You're back."
"Yeah. How's the girl?"
"I've done all the necessary treatments... but she has a high fever."
"Good work. Leave the rest to me."
True to his reputation, Yi Cheongu's skill was no exaggeration. As soon as he took over, the girl's expression visibly softened into one of relief.
"I've done everything I can. The wounds aren't deep, so as long as she takes her medicine properly, she'll be fine."
"Thank you."
"I'm the thankful one. Call me anytime if you need anything. For a Great Hero like you, I'll come running."
His only flaw was his obsession with money. Once treatment was done and Yi Cheongu had returned to the village, leaving us alone, Sua finally fixed me with a serious look.
"Do you have any guesses about this?"
"Why do you say that?"
"You always seem to know things we don't, Master."
Such high praise made me uncomfortable.
I was just a reader who'd devoured plenty of wuxia novels. Anyone who read them often would know about demonic cults and the dangers of demonic arts—it was impossible not to.
"I have my suspicions, but it's not good to speculate on someone else's troubles. Best to wait quietly until she wakes up."
"S-Sorry. I spoke out of turn..."
"It's fine. Now that you know, just don't do it again."
Truth be told, it was a bluff. She seemed like demonic cult or unorthodox faction material... but even that wasn't certain. Some novels even portrayed orthodox sects as just as vile as demonic ones.
Thinking I'd scolded her, Sua hung her head dejectedly. In the end, I had no choice but to reach out and pat her head comfortingly. Good girl.
The one thing I could predict with confidence was that the girl had been imprisoned somewhere. Had she escaped midway? Or had someone freed her?
"......"
"......"
It was right then, as I stroked Sua's hair, that I sensed movement. I turned instinctively—and locked eyes with the crimson gaze of the girl lying on the floor.
I nearly jumped.
When did she wake up?
The girl with her frayed white hair and red eyes kept staring at me as she propped herself up. Then, out of nowhere, she thrust her head toward me.
"Pet me too."
"......"
Was her head injury worse than we thought...?
The differences between the orthodox and unorthodox paths were too numerous to list, even with ten mouths. But if we picked the most fundamental one, it was their history and legitimacy.
The orthodox sects traced their origins to Buddhist and Daoist martial arts, steeped in the wisdom and scholarship of ancient sages—martial arts of the learned, in a word.
The unorthodox, by contrast, were closer to raw violence than true martial prowess. Violence was an inescapable evil in any society, past or present.
Bandits, swindlers, murderers—all manner of criminals banded together. Even so-called orthodox monks and Daoists joined in, forming their own alliances.
That was the origin of the unorthodox paths, fierce rivals to the orthodox. But it didn't mean every unorthodox was a ruthless criminal without scruples.
In eras of endless war, perhaps. But now, with the land unified and stable, even bitter enemies like orthodox and unorthodox weren't clashing as fiercely as before.
They even cooperated covertly when needed—some saw it as pragmatic, others as an eyesore.
The black-clad figures with their hats pulled low were no exception. They scoured the mountain with fiery eyes but found nothing by dusk.
"Find it, no matter what. This poison is essential to our cause."
"Understood, Commander."
"What about those who let the poison slip away?"
The one called Commander turned. Two martial artists were bound to trees, stripped naked. They wailed desperately at the sight of him.
"We-We were wrong! Commander!"
"Mercy, just once!!!"
"......That child was the finest poison, perfected over ten years of support from the Deputy Leader to our Black Epidemic Sect. You knew that, didn't you?"
The Black Epidemic Sect had once dominated beyond unorthodox circles into the central plains. Had they not fallen to the Sichuan Tang family, things might be different now.
The current alliance was a pathetic shadow of its former self. Collaborating with orthodox scum? Unthinkable for true unorthodox warriors.
Just a little longer, and they could've allied with 'them,' ousted the worthless alliance leader, and sent the decade-perfected poison to the Murim Alliance.
But ruining a sure thing had its limits. As Commander, he had no mercy for such blunders. He mimed slitting a throat.
"Kill them all, not one spared. Feed the corpses to the wild beasts."
"O-One chance! Please, just one!!"
"Aaaagh!!"
The failures' death cries echoed briefly. The Commander didn't so much as twitch as he took reports from the others. It had floated down to Gold Phantom Mountain...?
"Then we search Seochae first."
"I'll send warriors right away."
"No. This time, I'm going too."
Crimson eyes gleamed through cracks in his battered bamboo hat. For the revival of the Evil Path Union—now little more than orthodox dogs—they had to reclaim the poison.
Even if it meant burning a whole village to the ground.