Chapter 153
Chapter 153
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 153
Chapter Title: S3. Martial World Journey -1
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A lush, verdant forest.
On a narrow mountain path that had naturally formed from the occasional passersby, three figures—a man and two women—were making their way along. It was Daoist Cheonghwi and the Nangong siblings.
The three were trudging along, sweat pouring down their faces.
The path was poorly maintained, full of bumps and steep inclines, with branches and underbrush reaching out, forcing them to push through. No matter how you looked at it, it was an uncomfortable trail.
Nangong Seunga vented her frustration.
"We could've just taken the main road! Why'd we have to pick this godforsaken path?"
"...Internal... energy... huff... without it... hah... I really feel how weak... my external arts are..."
Nangong Myeong's exhausted, wheezing voice—sounding half-dead—indirectly piled on another complaint.
But Daoist Cheonghwi declared firmly.
"This is the right way."
"...So what exactly makes this 'right'?"
"Explaining it wouldn't befit a great hero."
"Is the poison still not fully out of your system or something?"
Daoist Cheonghwi clamped his mouth shut in a straight line and walked on silently. Nangong Seunga glared at his back with puffed-up cheeks but had no choice except to keep supporting Nangong Myeong as they pressed on.
If they'd just rented a single carriage, they would've arrived ages ago...
"Hm."
But Cheonghwi had his reasons.
He was wary of possible ambushes. Having publicly declared he'd restore Nangong Myeong's dantian, those scoundrels would surely extend their filthy hands once more.
Sticking to the obvious main road would just lead to round two of the chase. Instead, he'd veered onto this obscure mountain path, twisting the route into a confusing mess to shake off any pursuers.
And that wasn't all.
After his confrontation with Nangong Chaegong, once enough time had passed, he'd returned to the academy once. The first thing he'd done upon waking was rush to the girls' dormitory and knock on the door.
'Envers, have you lost your mind this late at night...?'
Selbia had come out when called, and he'd begged her for a heap of scrolls while picking her brain for advice.
After receiving a crash course in practical pursuit-evasion theory from the highly capable Red Tower mage (whose friend Niore was a tracking expert), Cheonghwi had devised a travel route that neither the Demonic Cult nor anyone else could follow.
And that was the mountain path they were on now.
A safe route where, whenever there was time while passing through, he'd set off trace-erasing scrolls and decoy scrolls left and right. Even if there had been trackers, they'd be long gone by now.
Cheonghwi glanced at Nangong Myeong, whose eyes were spinning, and thought to himself. The reason he was hiding why he was complicating the route was out of concern for the boy.
For now, it was just suspicion, but if Cheonghwi's worst fears turned out true... the boy might be deeply hurt.
Step. Cheonghwi halted and declared.
"We'll rest here for a bit."
"Haaaaah...!!"
"Ughhh."
Nangong Myeong collapsed flat, while Nangong Seunga stretched with a strange groan.
Envers rummaged out the camping gear. She gathered stones and twigs for a fire, ignited it with an artifact, and tore a water-creation scroll over a tin pot.
Watching her, the Nangong siblings' eyes sparkled in unison. How could they not be amazed? Every time a talisman was torn, something bizarre happened.
Nangong Myeong exclaimed in admiration.
"If everyone in the world had skills like yours, Daoist Cheonghwi, there'd be no chaos anywhere!"
"Isn't it the opposite? They'd probably fight even more."
"If you could conjure water from thin air, farmers wouldn't quarrel over irrigation ditches, right, sis?"
"Instead, they'd pour water on more land to claim it."
While Nangong Myeong pondered proper uses, Nangong Seunga was convinced it'd only cause trouble. Cheonghwi found it fascinating and tossed some gathered mushrooms into the pot as he said.
"From the same womb, yet so different."
"Different wombs. I was adopted."
"...You two look so alike, though?"
"We don't look alike at all?!"
Nangong Seunga shrieked. Nangong Myeong wilted a bit, wondering if she hated hearing they resembled each other that much.
But in truth, Nangong Seunga and Nangong Myeong didn't really look alike.
Their face shapes were different enough to immediately guess different mothers, but the big-nosed Daoist Cheonghwi wasn't great at distinguishing Eastern faces. He looked sheepish.
"...Adopted, huh."
"The family head took me in because of my talent. If we're talking bloodlines, I have zero ties to the Nangong clan."
"Still, you're my sister! Part of the Nangong family."
"Yeah, Myeong, you're my little brother. No doubt about it."
It was heartwarming to see the siblings get along. Cheonghwi threw dried meat into the pot and set it boiling. Toss in whatever and heat it up, and you'd get a stew that wouldn't kill you.
"Daoist Cheonghwi, I found these mushrooms on the path... Should we try adding them?"
"If they're bright red with spots, aren't those poison?"
"Daoist Cheonghwi! These leaves smell amazing! Last time, we couldn't mask the gamey taste, so it was tough to eat. If we boil them in, maybe it'll make a nice, smooth porridge!"
"This is stew."
With three total cooking novices, every evening's boil turned into an alchemy experiment. Last time, they'd dumped in a pointy fruit whole, and the broth turned sour somehow.
"Then mushrooms next time, and today a couple of those leaves..."
"I brought ten!"
"Plenty to kill the gamey taste!"
"...Won't it just taste like grass?"
Bubble bubble bubble.
Freshly foraged add-ins from the mountains went into the boiling water. And wouldn't you know, the stew's color shifted to something oddly mystical! A purplish tint, maybe...
Cheonghwi sensed tonight's dinner was another disaster and quietly covered the lid. Nangong Seunga sighed and grabbed her sword.
Nangong Myeong watched the two prepare, question marks floating over his head. What? Did the cooking fail that bad? Were they going to catch a mountain rabbit?
"Where are you off to, Daoist Cheonghwi? Sis too?"
"Those who visit first uninvited will find guests arriving later. Unwelcome intruders are coming."
"Not 'guests'—intruders, Daoist Cheonghwi."
"......"
A bitter look crossed Nangong Myeong's face. He alone hadn't sensed them. Was the lack of a dantian truly fatal for a martial artist?
Reading his expression, Cheonghwi gently stroked the boy's head.
"You'll recover."
"...Yes."
Rustle. Rustle.
Breaking the brief silence came the sound of brushing through underbrush, and out burst shaggy-bearded ruffians clutching all sorts of weapons!
Mismatched shabby clothes, patched together from wild beast hides. Bandits through and through. About six of them.
The leader up front slung a massive cleaver over his shoulder and bellowed.
"This is greenwood bandit territory! Who dares light a fire and put on a show here?!"
"Perfect practice dummies."
"...Huh?"
The young ones showed no fear, making the bandits hesitate. When you run into bandits at the foot of a remote mountain, there were two types who stayed calm.
The clueless or the experts.
"Young Lady Nangong Seunga, leave one for Myeong's training."
"...I, I've never killed anyone before, Daoist Cheonghwi."
"Ah, right... Sorry. I was trained as an assassin from a young age, so... No blood in front of a kid. We'll just subdue them."
"D-Daoist, you trained as an assassin?!"
Her retort brimmed with curiosity about his tales. Cheonghwi snapped off a suitable twig, sharpened the end, and gripped it lightly.
Mindset shifted, so did his stance.
Painful memories long buried—the assassination arts and various techniques from his clan. Cheonghwi finally resolved to dig them up and use them.
The tool's purpose is decided by the user. Even if meant for Duke Redburn's schemes, in Cheonghwi's hands, it was different.
Rapier.
Memories of past training flashed by. His brother had been a rapier master and taught him plenty of tips.
"Keep movements light and fluid, but thrust rigidly."
Didn't that make for a fine technique?
Whirr!
The twig tip shook wildly, bewildering the eye, then struck like lightning into the gap in their awareness. Paired thriftily with Explosive Sprinkle Strike.
Thud. Shhhh-shick!!
"Gah!"
"Urk...! Experts!"
"Damn, aaagh!"
Thrusts flew every which way, piercing shoulders, wrists, knees, then withdrawing. So fast it created two or three afterimages at once.
"You bastards—!!"
Whoom!
Spotting an opening in the assault, one bandit swung his cleaver wide. Cheonghwi's body slid smoothly across the ground without warning, as if an invisible giant hand had shifted him.
A spectator mage might've jumped up yelling, 'What the fuck, a glitch?' It was that unnatural.
The trick: an Ice Slick scroll reducing ground friction, combined with Explosive Sprinkle Strike. His solid lower-body training kept his balance.
"D-Demonic sorcery—!!"
"Kinda looks like sorcery, doesn't it, Daoist Cheonghwi!"
"Kk!"
Nangong Seunga and Cheonghwi efficiently subdued the bandit gang, leaving one. The survivor trembled and spat curses.
"Y-You bastards! This is greenwood territory...!! Aren't you afraid of retaliation!!"
"Young Hero Nangong Myeong, today's lesson builds on gaze insight—something I call 'dance.' Learned it from... well, Luna, or 'Moon' as she's known."
"Aren't you afraid of retaliation!!"
"Dance's essence isn't bound by move count... but I lack the brains to invent my own. I'll teach you a few from Luna. You can adapt them."
Cheonghwi demonstrated inhuman evasion moves on the bandit, gave Nangong Myeong solid hands-on experience, then let them go.
Years later, the bandits who returned to base testified thus:
Some insane demon brat used vicious assassin swordplay, moved like a bug not a human, wielded sorcery, toyed with us forever, then released us.
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Days later, Cheonghwi and the Nangong siblings arrived before the city in beggar rags. This was Jebu Citadel, near Heavenly Mirror Lake—a bustling hub teeming with people.
All sorts streamed through the gates. Watching sleek carriages glide along the main road, the siblings grumbled.
"...If we hadn't wandered those mountain paths, the main road would've taken a day tops."
"A carriage might've done it in half a day..."
Jebu Citadel was awfully close to Nangong Manor. That's why Cheonghwi had deliberately looped his route to arrive late. They'd assume he'd gone far away.
"Eat first, or wash up?"
"I want real people food..."
"We gotta wash first. This doesn't even look human."
With the siblings split, Nangong Myeong and Seunga stared intently, readying for battle. Rock-paper-scissors would decide.
"Rock... paper... scissors!"
"Ha!"
"......!!"
Gaze insight's clever advanced application. Predicting the opponent's next move from their gaze—mental second-move advantage!
"C-Cheating...!!"
"Cheating has no place in fair play, sis."
Nangong Myeong threw rock and won, pumping his fist in victory.
"To the inn, Daoist Cheonghwi! I know a great one here in Jebu—Seomyeon House..."
"What kind of food?"
"Carbo—urk."
"?"
Nangong Myeong bit his tongue and groaned, pausing before answering again.
"I hear their somen noodles and bamboo leaf liquor are excellent!"
"...Hard to say just from hearing."
"The broth's so rich, you'll love it, Daoist Cheonghwi!"
As they chatted amiably and reached the gate, a guard thumped his spear on the ground, blocking them.
"?"
"No beggars for now."
"We're not beggars...?!"
"With that getup? Anyway, beat it!"
Nangong Seunga bristled. Her face screamed she wanted to declare her Nangong clan status to the world, make the rude guard kneel, and finally get a bath.
Nangong Myeong, meanwhile, looked puzzled.
"S-Sir guard. You used to let beggars in. Something happen inside? I really wanna know!"
"...Frequent disappearances lately. Orders to keep out anyone suspicious. You go in, you might get nabbed. Beg elsewhere."
"Oh no, really..."
"Hm. Still, we're not suspicious. I'm actually a daoist cultivating the Way. Burn a talisman, I can show you a fireball..."
As Cheonghwi tried bluffing his fake daoist act to slip through the gate.
"...What're you doing there, Daoist? With the Nangong kids."
"...Young Lady Hiyeong? What brings you here?"
"Business. And don't call me 'young lady.'"
Their eyes met—Hiyeong, disguised as a rural housewife.