The Four Spirit Tattoos
Myo-rin found Namgung Woo's demands rather excessive in places. Still, she had no choice in the matter. He wasn't brazenly asking for the Cheongjeong Sect's martial arts manuals or spell formulas. He simply wanted to verify what kind of spell it was and how powerful. The Changcheon Squad that Myo-rin knew was a band of ronin, and it was only natural to run background checks and skill tests on prospective members. After all, a thirsty man digs the well. Right now, the desperate one wasn't Namgung Woo—it was Myo-rin herself.
"Right now?" she asked.
"We can verify the practical side later, step by step. For now, I'd like to hear about the spell first. Especially the one that lets you cross spaces. How can you use something like that in succession?"
After the fight with Lee Ja-ryong, Namgung Woo had remained at the Hebei Paeng Family and looked into spells from every angle. The Hebei Paeng Family, which had dabbled in sorcery while treating Paeng Ye-ryeong, possessed considerable expertise. From what Namgung Woo had gathered, spells might seem omnipotent, but they were anything but.
Spellcasting generally consisted of three components: the verbal incantation, the physical catalyst, and the ritual actions that manifested the effect. In Lee Ja-ryong's case, the altar he built on Mount Wanse served as the catalyst, the chants he recited were the incantation, and forming hand seals to move energy and realize the spell counted as the ritual action.
Because of this, spells offered far broader applications than martial arts, yet they almost entirely lacked the instantaneous quality of the latter. It was no exaggeration to say that spellcasters weren't actively used in Murim battles because their casting speed simply couldn't match the superhuman swiftness of martial artists. Even supreme spellcasters like Dongbang Hwa or Lee Ja-ryong could overcome some of those limits, but even they found it essential to learn martial arts to handle the speed of true warriors.
Yet Myo-rin didn't appear to be at that level, and still she cast spells faster than they did. How?
He felt he should have seen it clearly with his Blue Serene All-Seeing Eyes, but at the time his attention had been locked on the enlightenment from O-eum Maje and his internal insights, so he had missed it.
Noticing that Namgung Woo already possessed basic knowledge of spells, Myo-rin kept her explanation simple.
"It's because I can skip the catalyst and the ritual actions."
With that, she slipped off the Taoist robe she had been wearing half-open. A startled "W-what—!" burst out, but when she turned to reveal her back, the voices died away in a different kind of shock.
Across the upper part of Myo-rin's back, precisely around her shoulder blades, a tattoo resembling phoenix wings had been engraved. Against skin so pale it looked almost translucent, the tattoo appeared like a single exquisite painting.
"They're called Spell Tattoos," she said. "Using special materials similar to those for a pure Daoist nun, spells are incorporated and inscribed directly onto suitable acupoints of the body. This replaces the catalyst and ritual actions, allowing the spell to be cast with only the incantation."
One might wonder why other spellcasters didn't use them, but the Spell Tattoos were one of the most closely guarded secrets of the Cheongjeong Sect, a tradition passed down since the Southern Song Dynasty. Using the human body itself as a catalyst was an extremely dangerous practice, and even the Cheongjeong Sect—with its centuries of history—had not fully overcome the technique's flaws.
Most spellcasters refused to choose such a risky method. Why turn your own body into a tool when there were so many other options? One wrong move could twist your meridians and leave you crippled. Only a madman would try it. That was the common view among spellcasters.
Instead, they devised other solutions to the persistent problem of casting speed. The most representative example was altars built atop dragon veins. Lee Ja-ryong had used exactly that method on the dragon vein of Mount Wanse to unleash spells of absurd, transcendent power.
But the Cheongjeong Sect's Spell Tattoos were unique. They came with various side effects, yet they granted revolutionary casting speed and astonishing efficacy. Namgung Woo grasped the general idea with a single glance.
"And the rest?"
"Pardon?"
"That's not the only one, is it? There are three more. They're all connected."
"...Correct. Three more, for a total of four Spell Tattoos."
Phoenix, Yinglong, Qilin, Spirit Tortoise. Myo-rin had engraved the tattoos of the Four Spirits to cast her spells.
While Myo-rin debated whether she should reveal the other three, Namgung Woo nodded as though that was sufficient.
"That's enough. I understand the general idea. Put your robe back on. We can examine your martial arts later, step by step."
Though he spoke casually, Namgung Woo had already finished his assessment of her level. Four spells that activated instantly with nothing but the incantation. On top of that, her internal energy was substantial. It didn't seem inferior even when compared to Paeng Ha-ryeong, who came from a prestigious family, had consumed countless elixirs while growing up, and had her blocked meridians cleared thanks to Namgung Woo.
At the very least, she was a Peak Realm expert. Even if one considered only her martial arts and set the spells aside, she seemed capable of giving Paeng Ha-ryeong a decent match.
"Then... it's settled?"
"Yes. With this, you are now a member of the Changcheon Squad. But remember this. Your responsibility for what happened in Beijing hasn't vanished. All I can do is share that burden with you."
"That's more than enough."
She had passed the test. She had worried about what would happen once Paeng Ha-ryeong fully set herself against it, but it had worked out. Myo-rin had successfully climbed onto the back of the tiger called Namgung Woo.
The relief of having found a path to survival loosened the tension in her body. She stroked her chest, and the deep sigh that escaped revealed exactly how much relief she felt.
Yet she still didn't realize it wasn't over.
The Changcheon Squad that Myo-rin had known—the one that simply aimed to be an ordinary band of ronin—was already dead. What remained was the Changcheon Squad that would serve as the foundation of the Namgung Family, but Myo-rin had no idea.
The kind-hearted Namgung Woo personally enlightened her about her ignorance.
"Allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Namgung Woo."
"Myo-rin... Wait. Namgung... Woo?"
"That's right. Namgung Woo."
Namgung Woo smiled. In contrast, the color that had returned to Myo-rin's face slowly drained away.
Revealing his name meant he no longer planned to hide his identity so thoroughly. It also meant he was prepared to face the Dokgo Family head-on.
If she leaked his name before he revealed himself to the world, Namgung Woo would have every legitimate reason to cast her aside without considering her his lifesaver.
So the one who put the collar on was... me?
Perhaps she had avoided a tiger only to walk into a wolf's den. There was no place as terrifying as the imperial family, but at least the hope remained that they would not pursue her. If she stood under the Namgung name, however, she would inevitably encounter them—the enemy known as the Dokgo Family.
"Don't worry. I will never, ever forget that you saved my life."
To Myo-rin, those words from Namgung Woo sounded like something else entirely: It's already too late to turn back.
Meanwhile, silence filled another room in the inn. It was the room Hangwi had been using.
Geumsin had been standing guard beside the monk, who sat with his eyes closed in deep contemplation. At the sound of voices drifting through the window, he rose and closed it.
"It's noisy outside. They must be sparring or something."
"...Geumsin."
"Yes, Master."
"Soon you'll be turning thirty-one."
The new year was approaching. Geumsin, who would soon be thirty-one, answered in the affirmative.
Hangwi continued. "Truly, so much time has passed. When I first took you in, you were merely a young boy. Now you've become such a strong, handsome man..."
"Master."
"Yet it seems I remain the same as I was in those immature days."
Hangwi recalled the matter with Namgung Woo, along with his own complacent thinking that the Geumsin locked away at Hwaseong Temple merely needed a comfortable guardian to experience the kangho safely.
"My eyes were dim, and I misjudged the man. I thought you were ignorant of the world's ways, but the opposite was true. You were quietly observing the world all along."
Hangwi muttered bitterly. Even so, Namgung Woo had maintained perfect courtesy until the end. To Hangwi, who had tried to use him, he had politely made it clear that he was not the safe guardian the monk believed him to be.
"It seems my own eyes grew dim from staying only at Hwaseong Temple. Nam Daehyeop is the eye of the storm that will bring a massive event to the kangho, yet I tried to send you to him. Before long, the currents of the entire world will flow around him."
Why hadn't he realized it? He had witnessed the same pattern several times in his more than fifty years of life.
"It has always been this way. When someone reaches the pinnacle of mastery at a young age and reveals themselves to the world, the Nine Provinces tremble in response and chaos follows."
Just as Mencius said that when heaven intends to confer a great mission on someone, it first tests them with hardship. Those heaven's favored children born with talent to shake the world always brought fierce winds and storms with them.
Fifty years ago, when Gwanggeuk Heonwon Gang stepped into the realm of supreme mastery, the Blood Cult catastrophe erupted. Twenty years ago, when Honggeuk Dan Un-ak appeared, he personally ignited the Great Orthodox-Unorthodox War.
"The righteous faction has Ha-gyeong Jin-in and the unorthodox faction has Woljon, but the world did not undergo drastic change simply because they appeared."
Namgung Woo was different. The Beijing Rebellion where he had revealed himself, followed by the Unyang Great Battle—his every step traced the path of a storm.
"Geumsin."
"Yes, Master."
"If you truly wish to throw yourself into this harsh kangho... then follow Nam Daehyeop."
"But the abbot said Hwaseong Temple might get swept up along with it..."
At Geumsin's words, Hangwi gave a faint smile.
"Hasn't your heart already gone to him?"
What Geumsin desired was the life of a martial artist who could fight without restraint. Yet his background with Hwaseong Temple and his identity as a monk had always blocked that path.
If Geumsin had been the reckless type, he would have abandoned his sect without a second thought, just like the fighters of the Banunbang. But he could not. In the end, he had followed the path laid out by the temple that had raised him.
"You may leave. Did not Jijang Bodhisattva himself refuse to become a Buddha and depart for the underworld instead? Is it absolutely necessary to remain a monk? Living as a martial artist and performing good deeds is enough."
Geumsin's eyes trembled at Hangwi's words.
Though they had spent only a short time together, Geumsin was certain. Namgung Woo did not speak empty words. If he said something, it was either fact or at least what he firmly believed to be true.
Therefore, if Geumsin followed him, Hwaseong Temple might become entangled in some incident because of it.
"But Hwaseong Temple..."
"Return to secular life."
"Pardon?"
"Why? When we say return to secular life, do we smash the dantian and sever the meridians like they do at Shaolin?"
At Geumsin's dumbfounded question, Hangwi spoke in a playful tone.
"Our Hwaseong Temple does not stop those who come, nor does it hold back those who wish to leave. It was founded by Master Gyogak, the incarnation of Jijang Bodhisattva who came from faraway Silla across the eastern sea. If someone can travel from that distance, then wandering the Nine Provinces for a time before returning is perfectly acceptable."
Hangwi rose from his seat and approached Geumsin.
"Once you feel you've seen enough of the kangho, come back then."