Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 3
>Chapter Title: Strange Phenomenon (1)
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In front of the door to the Clan Head's room.
Great Madam Seok of Timber Sword Manor, waiting there with impeccable posture, turned her gaze toward the sound of footsteps ascending the veranda.
A middle-aged man with a chin beard, dressed in shabby Daoist robes emblazoned with yin-yang symbols and carrying a shoulder basket laden with old books and tools, came into view.
He was the sorcerer she had summoned.
This man, known as Sorcerer Myo-sin, was quite famous in Mong City for his reputed skills.
Great Madam Seok scanned him from head to toe, then clicked her tongue softly with a distrustful expression.
The sorcerer paid no mind to whether she was pleased or not.
Even in the face of her attitude, he showed no sign of displeasure and instead adjusted himself to suit her mood.
"Can I see the Clan Head now?"
"Yes."
"That's fortunate. The longer a strange phenomenon lingers, the worse the situation becomes. Please have everyone withdraw from within thirty paces of where the Clan Head resides. Staying too close risks the Clan Head's impurity spreading to them."
"I've already done that."
Why would she summon a sorcerer and leave onlookers around?
She had already cleared the area with a suitable excuse.
"You should withdraw as well, Madam..."
Whoosh!
At that moment, Great Madam Seok raised her hand slightly and spoke.
"Do you remember the request I made?"
The sorcerer smiled faintly in response.
"Of course."
"Good. They say you're quite the mystical sorcerer, so I'll trust you."
Then, lowering her voice to a whisper, she added,
"I'll give you three hundred silver taels right away if you just find out where the Clan Head's seal and manuals are."
"Oh, thank you."
Sorcerer Myo-sin bowed his head repeatedly in gratitude.
At his demeanor, Great Madam Seok let out a faint sigh.
"Hoo."
In truth, she hadn't put much stock in sorcery or such things.
It was only due to a certain trigger that her views had changed.
She had summoned him merely on a sliver of hope.
'...If only you had empowered that child, none of this would have happened.'
To think of making the son of a mere gisaeng—not even from the principal wife—the successor.
Resentment welled up in Great Madam Seok's eyes as she stared at the Clan Head's door.
* * *
On the way to Timber Sword Manor's main hall where the Clan Head resided.
Go Chan, walking side by side to guide him, glanced sideways at Mok Kyung-un.
'What could he be thinking?'
It was true that the Clan Head's life was directly tied to this guy's.
But what did he plan to do by seeing the Clan Head?
'Does he actually plan to try saving him?'
That would be even more impossible.
He knew the guy had exceptional knowledge of herbs, but the Clan Head had already been given up on by the resident physician and every skilled doctor in the area.
It was an unidentified strange phenomenon—no one could pinpoint the symptoms or the illness.
The very use of "strange phenomenon" meant there was no way to treat it.
'What on earth is his scheme?'
He couldn't read this guy's thoughts at all.
'More than that, isn't he worried about himself?'
Go Chan was concerned about something else entirely.
If he drew attention and someone got chatty, his fake identity could be exposed before he and Gam Escort could switch sides, leading to disaster.
Just then, Mok Kyung-un looked somewhere and asked,
"What's that place over there?"
"That's the training ground for practicing martial arts."
The spot Mok Kyung-un nodded toward was the First Training Ground.
Timber Sword Manor had a total of four training grounds, including one exclusively for the Clan Head.
The Third Training Ground was for the manor's general warriors, the Second for retainer families honing their martial arts, and the First was reserved for the young masters.
"A place to train in martial arts..."
Interest flickered in Mok Kyung-un's eyes.
Seeing this, Go Chan clicked his tongue inwardly.
In a situation where life and death hung in the balance, any desire for martial arts was nothing but a pipe dream.
'You think you can catch up to Gam hyung by learning now?'
He probably couldn't even take his first steps in it, yet dreaming of mastering martial arts to kill a first-rate expert was frankly laughable.
At that moment, Mok Kyung-un suddenly called out to him.
"Go Chan Escort."
"Yes, yes."
"Every time I see you, Go Chan Escort, I can't help but notice how appetizing your eyeballs look—like something begging to be rolled around."
'!?'
Go Chan flinched and halted mid-step.
His body stiffened as he turned his head, only for Mok Kyung-un to link arms with him and say,
"You're not one of my people yet, are you?"
"N-No, how could that be?"
"Look ahead. Go Chan Escort. Does someone plan to gobble you up or something?"
'......Fucking bastard.'
He was genuinely unnerved.
Mok Kyung-un's gaze was fixed precisely on his left eye.
He even licked his lips, looking like he was dying to pluck it out.
Go Chan's shoulders trembled as he forced himself to step forward.
Grinning at him, Mok Kyung-un said,
"Too bad, right?"
'What, what is?'
Cold sweat trickled down his back.
The more he learned about this guy, the more it felt like he'd poked something he shouldn't have.
Pushing down his anxiety as best he could, Go Chan walked onward.
'Ah...'
Then, Go Chan's eyes caught on someone in the training ground.
There was a sturdy-looking youth there, shirtless.
The boy, with well-developed bronze muscles, was sweating profusely as he practiced his horse stance.
'Mok Yu-cheon.'
He was the youngest young master, Mok Yu-cheon.
Blessed with innate martial talent, he devoted every moment not spent eating or sleeping to training, his passion unmatched.
The Clan Head didn't favor him for nothing.
'He's glued to it.'
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call the First Training Ground Mok Yu-cheon's personal domain.
"There's someone training."
At Mok Kyung-un's remark, Go Chan whispered back,
"It's the youngest young master."
"The youngest? So that's Mok Yu-cheon?"
"Yes."
"Is that how you train in martial arts?"
"He's building lower body strength through the horse stance. All martial arts fundamentally stem from the legs."
"I see."
"Young master, it's best not to stare at the youngest young master. You might get entangled."
"Just for looking?"
Go Chan scowled at him.
He must have seen the intel packet from Gam Escort.
The real Mok Kyung-un's martial prowess was at the third-rate level.
But as a fake, any pointless messing around could lead to a clash that exposed him.
And there was an even bigger problem.
Go Chan whispered,
"The youngest young master truly hates the real young master."
"Ah."
Mok Kyung-un nodded.
The intel packet on the real Mok Kyung-un stated it plainly:
[The lowly bastard struts around boasting his talent—can't even stand the sight. If you run into him, avoid conversing at all costs.]
They had warned him to that extreme degree.
Something must have happened.
"Why does he hate him?"
Go Chan hesitated at the question before whispering in his ear,
"......The real young master insulted the youngest young master's mother, calling her a vulgar gisaeng wench, and got beaten half to death for it."
That was already two years ago.
He still remembered it vividly.
The real Mok Kyung-un crawling on the floor, his leg and rib bones shattered.
He'd begged desperately to be spared.
Because of that incident, the youngest young master, Mok Yu-cheon, genuinely despised Mok Kyung-un.
"He must have a gentle heart."
"Pardon?"
"He left the limbs intact, after all."
'......'
Go Chan furrowed his brow.
This guy really thought differently.
Even as a fake, it was basically his own story.
In any case, this wasn't the time.
"Anyway, let's hurry. It's best to avoid bumping into the other young masters right now. It could really get dangerous."
At Go Chan's urging, Mok Kyung-un just smirked silently.
What an amusing place.
To see the brothers at each other's throats like this.
And so, they passed the training ground and headed to the main hall where the Clan Head was.
As they approached the hall's entrance pavilion, Go Chan's face twisted.
'What is this?'
Normally, the estate's guard warriors stood watch in front of the main hall entrance pavilion.
But there was no one.
Now that he noticed, the surroundings were eerily quiet.
Not a single shadow in sight.
'This is trouble...'
The Clan Head's condition was so dire that even the young masters had been barred from the main hall on Great Madam Seok's orders.
That's why he'd guided him without complaint, figuring they'd be turned away anyway.
But now, it looked like they might actually see the Clan Head.
* * *
Inside the Clan Head's room.
Around the bed where the Clan Head lay, a dozen red threads formed a barrier, with silver coins strung between them in the empty center, flowing along the lines.
Clink-clink!
The falling silver coins chimed as they collided.
"Hmm."
Sorcerer Myo-sin, who had removed the Clan Head's upper garment to inspect his chest, stuck out his tongue in amazement.
Most "strange phenomena" turned out to be unrelated when summoned.
Usually, one just performed some sorcery ritual to bide time.
But not this one.
Bulge! Bulge!
From the center of the Clan Head's chest, pitch-black veins protruded grotesquely, swollen and throbbing.
At a glance, it resembled poisoning symptoms.
Yet the eerie part was that the area kept writhing ceaselessly.
'Toward the heart.'
The blackened veins bulged toward the pallid area around the heart.
But something blocked them—they hadn't reached it yet.
Sorcerer Myo-sin grinned.
'A martial artist is a martial artist. His vital energy is strong enough to keep the impurity from piercing the heart. With killing intent this potent, he should have been devoured already.'
He was holding out impressively.
But that was nearing its limit.
The Clan Head's body showed he'd been afflicted for some time, weakened considerably.
'Fifty-fifty.'
Even if purified, his survival odds were even.
Repelling both impurity and killing intent simultaneously was no easy task.
But that wasn't necessary now.
'I just need to do what I'm paid for.'
The commission wasn't to save the Clan Head from the strange phenomenon.
Just make him spit out where the seal and manuals were before he died.
Sorcerer Myo-sin pulled a talisman from his shoulder basket.
Dipping a brush in prepared red ink on an inkstone, he began inscribing characters on the talisman.
Stroke by stroke,
It took the form of a ghost.
Myo-sin chanted softly.
"Heavenly Emperor's Chapter... Girded with Heavenly Might... Five Directions' Fierce Ghosts... Why not perish... Flying Immortal's Single Breath... Myriad Ghosts Hidden... Great Mighty Sage Draws into Ghost Heart and Seizes Breath."
Flutter-flutter-flutter!
It was bizarre.
The talisman's edge trembled on its own.
Sorcerer Myo-sin pressed the quivering talisman onto the strange phenomenon at the center of the Clan Head's chest, relentlessly aiming for the heart.
Slap!
That very instant.
Bulge! Bulge! Bulge!
Centered on where the talisman stuck, the black veins began to recede.
Sorcerer Myo-sin then formed a hand seal.
Snap!
[Lin (臨)]
Fingers together, thumbs interlocked—signifying the Immovable Root Person.
[Bing (兵)]
Supporting the index fingers, middle fingers extended and gathered.
With that, he began reciting the Guardian Killer Mantra.
"Azure Mystery Altar General Wei Ling Manifests Golden Body, Golden Armor Locks Demon God, Pierces Evil Tiger Great Thunder God, Grasps Iron Chain Links, Kills Ghosts and Demons, Lowers Nine Heavens Pure Energy, Opens Water to Traverse Seven Treasures..."
As the Guardian Killer Mantra rang out, the Clan Head's body convulsed.
Faint steam rose from where the talisman was attached.
[Jie (皆)]
All fingers interlocked—signifying External Repose.
Then, the Clan Head's throat bulged grotesquely.
His airway blocked, the Clan Head's face flushed red.
Seeing this, Sorcerer Myo-sin's expression hardened.
'The killing intent is too strong.'
Rising from his seat, Sorcerer Myo-sin formed the Sword-Finger Seal with his right hand over the Clan Head's throat.
He continued the Guardian Killer Mantra.
"Seals Azure Mystery Altar Fierce Marshal Strong Come Im, Kills Demons No Flow Pure, Divine Soldiers Transform Hasten Yield..."
The mantra wasn't even finished.
Creeeak!
That's when the Clan Head's closed door slowly opened.
Three red threads tied to the door came loose, sending silver coins clattering to the floor.
Clatter-clang!
'Damn it!'
That instant.
Boom!
"Hngh!"
A powerful rebound force sent Sorcerer Myo-sin's body flying backward.
The impact was so fierce it seemed he might crash anywhere, but then someone grabbed his back.
Thud!
The startled Myo-sin turned his head.
The one holding him was an exquisitely handsome boy.
It was Mok Kyung-un.
Stunned momentarily by his striking features, Myo-sin was about to snap in anger at the interruption.
"No one was to enter—how dare you...!?"
Flinch!
But Sorcerer Myo-sin couldn't finish his outburst.
He had caught sight of Mok Kyung-un's eyes—still as those of the dead, without a flicker of movement.
'How can a living human have such eyes?'
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