Chapter 100 - Traces of Ma-seon
“Uh… uh…?”
While the man stood there dumbfounded, the Blood Dragon let out a roar that tore through the air as it charged toward the monsters.
Kwaaang!!
It wasn’t a mere collision.
The monsters that slammed into the Blood Dragon had their flesh ripped apart like paper, exploding in every direction.
Thick blood and the stench of gore filled the air.
The Blood Dragon didn’t stop.
On the contrary, it devoured the scattering debris, growing larger with every gulp.
“Heh!”
The man’s jaw dropped as he swallowed hard.
Now, nothing remained on the ground but rotten, blackened stains.
In the sticky silence left by the vanished flesh and fragments, Jin Muhon gazed up at the massively swollen Blood Dragon.
- Grrrrowl.
“……”
Inside the Blood Dragon that had swallowed the monsters, lost yin energies churned wildly.
The moment Heaven Earth Infinite was released, those energies would blanket the earth once more.
“What to do with this thing…”
At that moment, a black hole ripped open in the sky caught Jin Muhon’s eye.
Beyond it lay an unfathomable abyss, utterly invisible.
“Perfect.”
He didn’t know where that hole led.
But since it was sucking in the earthly qi, shoving the Blood Dragon through should work.
Jin Muhon reached toward the sky and commanded,
“Go.”
Kwaaaaa!!
The Blood Dragon thrashed its body and shot upward.
The red trail streaking into the heavens looked just like a dragon ascending.
“Whoa! You’re just sending it like that?!”
The man gaped up at the sky in shock.
The moment the Blood Dragon was sucked into the black abyss, the ear-shattering screech vanished as if it had been a lie.
“……?”
“……?”
A heavy silence suddenly blanketed the area.
“Family Head. Is it over?”
“What was that thing…”
Dokbi and Hongcheong cautiously approached Jin Muhon.
“Shh!”
The man urgently raised a hand in warning.
A moment later.
Kurururung—
The ground began to shake violently.
“Ah!”
“Earthquake?!”
The man quickly assumed a cross-legged position and shouted,
“Hurry! Gather around me! Now!”
Dokbi and Hongcheong crouched low and looked to Jin Muhon.
He nodded and moved toward the man.
The remaining three kicked off the ground and joined him.
“I’ll erect a barrier! Don’t go outside!”
The man’s fingers traced complex patterns in the air, forming hand seals.
He muttered an incantation under his breath.
Woooong— Rumble—
“Oh my?”
Soon, mounds of earth rose from the ground, enveloping the group in a dome-like shelter.
“It’s coming!”
Kwaaaaaang!!
“Ptoo!”
A massive impact struck the shelter.
The man’s face paled in an instant, and he vomited a gush of blood.
Jin Muhon pressed his palm against the crumbling earthen wall and infused it with protective aura.
As the aura sealed the cracks, the savage tremors finally subsided.
A little while later.
The endless quake finally died down.
“Hoo…”
The man let out a long sigh.
Rumble!
The shelter collapsed, and blinding sunlight poured in.
Everyone looked up at the sky.
The black hole had vanished, leaving the heavens clear and pristine as if nothing had happened.
“Whoa… it’s gone.”
“As expected of the Family Head!”
Hongcheong clapped with a bright smile.
“Ahem! Humph! Seems you all owe your lives to me.”
The man cleared his throat awkwardly, drawing the group’s attention.
Only then did Hongcheong get a proper look at him.
His body was caked in rotten blood and flesh chunks.
His appearance was so wrecked it was hard to guess his age, but he seemed around his mid-to-late forties.
Hongcheong tilted her head and asked,
“Who are you, anyway?”
“Hey now! Who’s asking who? Ignoring my warning and coming here! Who the hell are you people? Trying to die?!”
“Huh? Warning? Oh! Last night!”
“That’s right! I risked my neck telling you to run!”
Hongcheong grinned.
Despite his mangled face, her beauty shone through, and the man blinked, lowering his voice.
“Thanks. But today, it looks like you survived because of us?”
“Wh-what nonsense! I’d nearly sealed the rift to the netherworld! If that guy hadn’t closed it at the end, it’d be different!”
The man pointed at Jin Muhon and bellowed.
“Rift to the netherworld? What’s that?”
“A rift to the netherworld is a rift to the netherworld!”
“Come on, explain it properly.”
“No need for explanations!”
The man turned away like a sulky child.
He was a strange fellow—old man one moment, kid the next.
Jin Muhon, who had been silent, suddenly asked in a low voice,
“An immortal cultivator?”
The man turned to look at Jin Muhon.
“What a obvious question. I’m Sama Hyeon of the Brain Immortal Sect. Didn’t expect another cultivator besides me to still be around. Who are you?”
Sama Hyeon mistook Jin Muhon for a fellow immortal cultivator.
It made sense—he’d just used the Blood Dragon to seal the hole in the sky.
“Jin Muhon.”
“Jin Muhon?”
Sama Hyeon tilted his head at the name.
“Jin family… the Jin who handle spiritual energy… Huh?!”
Suddenly, Sama Hyeon’s eyes widened as he stared at Jin Muhon.
“Primordial Mist Sea! A descendant of the Primordial Jin family?!”
Sama Hyeon looked genuinely shocked.
Jin Muhon calmly shook his head.
“No. I’m a descendant of the Yunbong Jin family.”
“Yunbong Jin family? Never heard of such an immortal clan. But that technique earlier was definitely Primordial Mist Sea…”
“Seems there’s a misunderstanding. That was our family art, Cloud Peak Mist Sea.”
“……”
“……”
Jin Muhon and Sama Hyeon stared at each other in silence for a long while, neither blinking—like a staring contest.
“Hoo…”
In the end, Sama Hyeon blinked first and spoke.
“Let’s talk.”
“As you wish.”
Sama Hyeon spun on his heel and vanished with a whoosh.
“Ah! Shadowstep?!”
“……!”
Hongcheong jumped in surprise and spread her senses around.
But she detected no presence anywhere.
Jin Muhon stared westward and kicked off the ground.
“He’ll be back soon. Wait here.”
“Ah! Family Head!”
Jin Muhon’s figure vanished in an instant.
***
Sama Hyeon’s lightness skill was astonishing.
Even at full speed, Jin Muhon couldn’t close the gap.
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—
Cold wind brushed his cheeks, and the blackened, dead land gradually regained some vitality.
Immortal arts.
It wasn’t ordinary lightness skill. Otherwise, he’d have caught up by now.
The superhuman speed suggested immortal techniques.
“Hm?”
In a short time, they’d covered quite a distance.
A small pond appeared ahead.
Sama Hyeon sat by the water’s edge, gazing into it.
Thud.
Jin Muhon landed beside him.
Ripples spread in circles across the surface.
Sama Hyeon watched them form and fade before slowly speaking.
“Something felt off. You’re not using spiritual energy.”
Jin Muhon narrowed his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Sit. This might take a while.”
Sama Hyeon patted the spot next to him as he looked up at Jin Muhon.
Jin Muhon sat without lowering his guard.
The man wielded strange, otherworldly power, but no malicious aura emanated from him.
On the contrary, he carried the same energy as the spells etched in the village.
He was someone who helped the weak and aided others despite his own peril—trustworthy for now.
“What do you know about immortal cultivators?”
In truth, tales of immortals and their arts were mostly legends.
Even the Demonic Cult’s Cheonma Mugo lacked reliable records.
“Not much. Just that they cultivate immortal arts to become immortals?”
“Correct.”
Sama Hyeon nodded and continued.
“Five hundred years ago, a gate to the immortal realm opened in the mortal world. Talented cultivators abandoned mortal life without hesitation and ascended.”
“The untalented couldn’t pass, I suppose.”
“Right. Low-level immortal arts aren’t that impressive. Often inferior to martial arts.”
Sama Hyeon spoke plainly, sharing what he knew like an old tale.
Five hundred years ago, one day.
All skilled cultivators left for the immortal realm, leaving only the mediocre in the mortal world.
Time passed, and those remnants were swept away by worldly turmoil, vanishing from the immortal path one by one.
Most sects and clans were wiped out, though some blended into the world, preserving their names.
“Your family is probably one of those.”
“Hm…”
“I don’t know your Yunbong Jin founder, but his arts wouldn’t have been passed down properly, right?”
Without explanation, Sama Hyeon had roughly pieced together the Yunbong Jin history.
Jin Muhon nodded.
“Yes.”
“That must be your Cloud Peak Mist Sea?”
“Indeed.”
Sama Hyeon nodded to himself, muttering,
“No formal transmission, no spiritual energy, yet he mastered immortal arts… Must’ve had a fateful encounter. No, even that wouldn’t suffice alone. Then… exceptional spiritual roots?”
Sensing it could go on forever, Jin Muhon interrupted his musings.
“Ever heard of Ma-seon?”
“Huh? Who? Ma-seon?”
“Yes.”
Sama Hyeon stroked his chin, searching his memory.
“Hmm… Never heard of him. What’s his full name?”
“Don’t know.”
“Then describe him. Appearance, powers, anything.”
“He…”
Jin Muhon briefly recounted his encounters with Ma-seon.
Back-and-forth questions extended it, but the explanation ended after about half an hour.
“…And that’s how it happened.”
“Hm…”
A groan escaped Sama Hyeon.
His face had hardened at some point.
Jin Muhon’s eyes gleamed as he pressed,
“You know him?”
“……”
Sama Hyeon’s head nodded heavily.
His gaze drifted blankly into the distance.
Jin Muhon spoke.
“Can you tell me what you know?”
“He’s probably…”
Sama Hyeon hesitated, words failing him.
Jin Muhon waited patiently without urging.
“Ma-seon’s real name is Sama Gil.”
“……?”
“My brother, whom I parted from long ago.”
“……”
Deep furrows formed between Jin Muhon’s brows.