The Black Poison King's Venom
The climate of Sichuan was famous for being humid and hot year-round. Even in the dead of winter, it was hard to find frozen water, and every morning fog would roll in and fill the world. That was why, even sitting in a forest clearing at dawn, it wasn't cold—in fact, it was so cozy it made one drowsy. I let out another yawn and drew my sword just a little, running my fingertip along the blade. I'd checked it several times already, but of course it was honed to a perfect edge. Enjoying that smoothness, I pushed and pulled my fingertip along it when a shadow appeared through the mist. I turned my head and looked straight at it. The shadow grew larger until it became the size of a person. It was an old man dressed in black.
"The road from Pachu was rough, so I was a little late. Kept you waiting long?"
"Just the right amount. It's a nice place for a morning walk."
The old man chuckled. When I moved to draw my sword, he waved his hands and found a nearby tree stump to sit on.
"Wait a moment. At my age, even a short walk leaves me winded. I need to rest a bit."
"As you wish."
The soft click of the sword sliding back into its scabbard was pleasant. I regarded the old man calmly. He was a little shorter than me, and his frame was lean overall. When he laughed exaggeratedly, the corners of his mouth twisted upward, and his eyes narrowed so much it was hard to read his gaze.
"I'm curious, so I'll ask. Are you strong?"
It was an interesting question. Was I strong? When it came to the depth of my studies, I understood the principles of moving body and mind far better than most I'd met. By the time one reached Dang Ho-gi, they were just throwing out obvious punches with a scattered mind. "Yes."
"Stronger than a Top 100 Master?"
Though I'd only once suppressed my presence, the Poison King was different. The inner force he'd pressed upon me wasn't something that could be faked with bluster or arrogance. It was something only a true master who had built his own studies into a complete art and then sought to elevate it to perfection could display. Whether my technique's sharpness and the confidence it gave me surpassed the Poison King's, I couldn't say. If the Poison King was a Top 100 Master, and the old man before me was as well… I met the Black Poison King's eyes and answered.
"No."
"Then what on earth gave you the confidence to send me a challenge letter?"
In truth, he wasn't the only one I'd sent it to. Within a week's travel, I'd sent challenge letters to three of the Eight Demonic Sects: the Guizhou Yeom Clan in Guiyang, the Black Snake Gate in Kunming, and the Jade Salt Gate south of Yunnan. The other two had ignored it, but only he had responded. Of course, all three had Top 100 Masters, so it wouldn't have mattered who came.
"You looked beatable."
The Black Poison King's drooping eye corners twitched. There was another reason I had to win. No matter how deep a Top 100 Master's studies ran, when placed beside me they seemed deep—but could they compare to my master? If others only revealed their true intentions during life-and-death battles, perhaps I was the same. This was the method I'd devised to deepen my resolve: a way to make my master see my sword not as a child's play, but as a tragic act of unfilial rebellion. It was merely the first step in a long journey.
"…Didn't you say you were weaker than a Top 100 Master? I'm also a Top 100 Master, so why did you think you could win?"
"Because deep study doesn't win fights."
Fighting was always a matter of methodology. Refined technique and a strong mind were the most important weapons, but they weren't the only ones, nor were they answers in themselves.
"That's… a plausible thing to say."
"Did you think I was looking down on you, elder?"
"For a moment, I did. When you study poison arts, you hear that sort of talk more than once or twice."
The old man spoke as if complaining and let out a sigh.
"Your words aren't wrong. What use is that realm, and what use is outward appearance? The essence of martial arts is the skill to protect one's body and bring down the opponent. In that sense, I think poison arts are among the greatest martial arts, but the world doesn't agree, so it's frustrating."
"Poison arts are the greatest martial art—would you explain further?"
"Gladly. Look here, do you know the saying that three third-class fighters can match one first-class?"
"First time hearing it."
The old man looked oddly excited at my answer. He raised one hand and tapped his knee with the other as he explained.
"Your knowledge is narrow. Anyway, there's that saying, and from there, if four first-class fighters hold the four directions, they can suppress one Peak master. And if five Peak masters form a skilled combined formation, they can hold down one Top 100 Master."
"But are all Peak masters the same, and are all Top 100 Masters the same?"
"No, but that's the idea, isn't it? Listen quietly. So, by that logic, how many third-class fighters is one Top 100 Master worth?"
"Sixty, isn't it? Though in reality it's different…"
"But if I dip my finger in their water bucket once, couldn't I kill a hundred of them?"
It sounded plausible when I heard it. I started to nod, then felt awkward and stopped.
"Doesn't seem like you couldn't."
"Exactly. Are Peak masters all the same, or are those beyond Peak all the same? Just like you right now."
I tried to move my fingers, but they were stiff and wouldn't obey. The old man continued naturally.
"Anyway, even if an entire county's army came to capture me, I wouldn't be afraid. But people criticize poison arts for cowardly killing those stronger than oneself. Isn't the great advantage of poison arts that it lets you defeat both weaker and stronger opponents alike?"
"That makes sense…"
I rolled my eyes downward. From the gaps in the sand at my feet, thin black snakes like earthworms were wriggling out and crawling about as if swimming.
"Aren't they cute? I took the name Black Snake Gate from these little ones."
"What does this poison do?"
"If you inhale the dried vapor of this poison through your nose, you'll be paralyzed for three days, unable to move even your eyelids, and then your heart will stop and you'll die in agony. Of course, before that, the Poison King will end your life."
When the old man tapped the ground with his finger, the thin snakes that had gathered like anemones wriggled and quickly crawled into his sleeve. Once he'd retrieved all the snakes, he looked back at me.
"One piece of advice: when facing someone who uses poison arts, it's best not to stay in one place. Also, avoid unnecessary words, don't step on sand, mud, or shaded areas, and above all, end the fight quickly. You never know where or when they've spread their poison."
"Thank you for the advice."
"Don't mention it. But can you still speak?"
I let out a long "Ah" and voiced it. It came out fine. Somehow, breathing seemed a little easier too.
"Yes. It seems even the poison on this dagger doesn't work on you, elder."
The old man grabbed the dagger I'd thrust and examined it while asking. He had already dropped the dagger and retreated three jang. He stared at my hand. A long cut from the dagger remained on my palm. But I didn't feel much of the poison's effect.
"How on earth…?"
"You told me to avoid unnecessary words, so I won't answer."
I pulled up the corners of my mouth. There was still a slight tingling, but I managed to form a smile without much trouble. Perhaps my talent had something in common with poison arts. The old man should have avoided unnecessary words, not stayed where his expression was visible, and above all, ended the fight quickly. I was born with the gift of reading people and imitating them. With a black snake-like poisonous intent deep in my heart, I drew my sword in one swift motion. The Black Poison King seemed to sense something too—his eyes widened. He was an interesting person.
* * *
To be honest, my talent wasn't perfect. No matter how good my eye for detail, how could the essence and mindset of a technique I'd only seen once be copied without a single flaw? If you looked closely, there were holes here and there, and places that seemed plausible but wouldn't last. Above all, imitating qi and mind didn't change the body. The Black Poison King's martial arts were tailored to his height, muscles, and bones. Even if I imitated his mindset, my fingertips wouldn't immediately become as hardened as his Black Claw, tempered over decades. At least I'd roughly observed what poison arts were like after meeting some Dang Clan members before, so I could imitate it at all—otherwise, I might have been cut down by his blade without timing it right. That was the truth of this fight. But in any case, I'd stepped into a life-or-death battle and survived. Just thinking about that fight sent shivers through my body. When I recalled the sensation of the Black Poison King's fingertips brushing my throat and my sword scraping his ribs, the corners of my mouth rose and I could barely hold back the wind rising in my chest.
"Ha… haha…"
"What's with you all of a sudden? I thought I told you not to laugh because it burdens your lungs. If breathing too easily is burdensome, shall I help?"
"No need for that. Just thinking about the fight makes me laugh."
Dang Ju-yeon looked at me with horrified eyes.
"I thought you were a clever gambler."
"Yes. You misjudged me greatly. I'm a madman, after all."
Even as I said that and burst into laughter again, it didn't last long. Aside from the pain like a knife stabbing my chest, I couldn't breathe. After coughing for a while, I stopped and panted like a dog with my tongue out. Dang Ju-yeon's gaze grew even fiercer. After catching my breath sufficiently, I offered what comfort I could.
"Well, being called a madman doesn't mean I'm not a Top 100 Master, does it?"
"That's still uncertain. The Black Poison King isn't dead, after all."
That was true. If asked who won, I'd say I did nine times out of ten, but I hadn't killed or made the Black Poison King kneel. The Black Poison King's studies weren't shallow enough to collapse just because his first move was blocked. I hadn't intended to let him go easily either, so we'd exchanged blows for a long time, but when he tried to escape using his life-saving art, Black Mist, I couldn't pursue him to the end. The Black Poison King had suffered serious injuries, but I wasn't in much better shape. Though my external wounds were considerable, the biggest problem was that my lungs had been damaged by the incomplete imitation of Black Mist. If the Black Poison King had known this, he might have taken more risks to end my life.
"Who knows. You know it too, young lady. People love heroes."
"…"
It was something I'd realized soon after coming to Sichuan. People were waiting for a hero. If there wasn't one, they'd make one. What if I stepped forward and said I was that hero? It would be convenient for me to approach my goal, and people would be happy to have a hero. It was good for everyone.
"Even if a Top 100 Master becomes the hundred-and-first, people will still want to treat me as one, won't they?"
I tried to laugh again but forced it down by pressing a hand to my chest. A frog-like croak came out, which was so funny I had to hold back laughter again.
"…Great Hero."
"Whew, what is it, young lady?"
"I really like this land of Sichuan."
"I like it too. The weather is so cozy."
The problem was that it was so warm it kept making me drowsy. Born loving stimulation, I didn't like feeling languid. It wasn't unbearable, though. But the Sichuan Dang Ju-yeon spoke of seemed to mean something different.
"I like how the people are relaxed and kind-hearted. I like the quiet yet bustling streets of Chengdu even when fog covers them. I like the spicy mala tang and mapo tofu loaded with Sichuan peppercorns. And above all, I like my family and our house that sits at the center, acting as the local guardian."
"Do you also like the brothers who get in the way of inheriting the position?"
"I do. Do you know the word 'love-hate'?"
Before I could answer, Dang Ju-yeon continued.
"And that's how all the Dang Clan people are. From the grandfather at the top to the youngest sixth cousin down there."
"Is there some hidden meaning in this too?"
"It means don't cause any more trouble in Sichuan."
I thought it over carefully. Whether there was any reason to refuse this offer, what would happen if I did, imagining Dang Ju-yeon and the Poison King's poisonous intent from every angle.
"Well, I'll do that. There are Top 100 Masters outside this area too, after all."
"Good choice."
After that, neither of us spoke, and only the sound of water droplets falling from the prepared medicinal pouch echoed. Then Dang Ju-yeon suddenly opened her mouth.
"Ah, and this is just formally passing it on, but Grandfather says if you become a live-in son-in-law, he'll consider bringing you into the Dang Clan. Instead, the condition is…"
"No need to say it painfully. You know I won't do it."
"Why are you in a bad mood? It's not like the young lady has any thoughts about it either."
"…That's true. Still, it's strange that I'm angry."