Chapter 119
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 119
Chapter Title: Believing Him to Be a Knight-Errant (2)
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Murim turned into a blood-soaked asura field at the mere mention of the Mythical Demon Armor. Yet the very man holding the secret manual, Kang Mujin, was always dragging his feet. It wasn't as if he was putting on airs or hiding his true intentions.
What would Heavenly Warrior think if he knew? It'd be a relief if he didn't crawl out from his grave.
'Who do I think I am!'
Narin had long since given up. All he could hope for was to escape his master's curse.
Reading Narin's thoughts, Kang Mujin dangled the bait.
"Do you want the Heavenly Warrior's martial arts?"
"...No, sir!"
"If you don't want it, nothing I can do. I was going to give you a shot."
"...Are you serious?"
"Too late. Opportunities only come once."
This damn master was toying with him!
Regret flooded in for not accepting right away, but Narin's suspicion was natural. This wasn't just any martial art—it was the Heavenly Warrior's personal insights. Who would truly believe someone handing that over?
"I want to learn it! Please give me the chance!"
"Fine."
"...Pardon?"
Just like that!
"You gonna keep responding like an idiot?"
"I shall exert myself to the utmost with all sincerity!"
The chance to learn Heavenly Martial—it was unbelievable to Narin. His master dismissed it as the brawling skills of a third-rate street thug, but the Heavenly Warrior's arts were the real deal. Mastering them would let him strut as one of the top experts in the jianghu.
Was it a lie?
Surprisingly, Narin didn't doubt Kang Mujin's sincerity. This was a man who treated the Mythical Demon Armor like a roadside pebble. No reason for him to test Narin with Heavenly Martial.
'More useful than he looks.'
He'd yelled at Cheol-ho that disguise techniques were mere parlor tricks not worth touching, but Narin's Thousand Faces Transformation was near-perfect. Add martial prowess, and he'd be handy in many ways.
"All the treasures are mine. You know what happens if you eye anything else, right?"
"Of course! Take it all! Everything belongs to my lord!"
Even if Narin harbored other thoughts, it wouldn't matter. He might dream of using Heavenly Martial to curb his lord's tyranny, oblivious to how delusional that was. When implanting the slave seal, Kang Mujin had conspired with the Demon King and even used the Soul-Piercing Demonic Eye.
'The stronger they both get, the better for me.'
An excellent meat shield... a loyal slave... a reliable disciple and subordinate. For Cheol-ho, dissatisfaction with his face was prime motivation to grow stronger. Of course, he must never learn disguise arts. Any change would be trouble.
'Look how much I care about you all.'
-Keep thinking twice, and you'll fall into qi deviation.
'You think plenty yourself.'
-Shut up!
Yukchil returned to the inn.
Even a Beggars' Sect branch couldn't relay urgent news instantly. Since they'd announced their destination in advance, this came via homing pigeon. Impossible without Hong Mu-gae pulling strings. Fellow disciples got along well. Kang Mujin knew, but magnanimously let it slide.
"The ambush succeeded."
"Leading with the good news means you didn't catch the tail. You just confirmed the shadow force's existence."
"How did you know?"
"They died trying to break the slave seals, right?"
"...Spot on!"
"I told you. Botch the seal-breaking, and you'd just lop off the tail."
As Kang Mujin predicted, the ambush succeeded, but they cut the tail and fled. The captives died attempting to remove the seals, leaving them empty-handed. The only gain: confirming the shadow force's reality.
"They're dangerous. We must uncover their true nature!"
"How? This is good enough for now. You've lived carefree till now—time to sit on pins and needles."
If the tail were easy to grab, he'd have done it himself.
Unraveling the Demonic Cult of the Demon God's ironclad organization was near impossible. For now, he had to settle for shaking off their complacency and rallying their forces.
"Shouldn't the Murim Alliance unite its full might?"
"Look at the Tang Clan—you know poisonous mushrooms grow in the ranks. Rooting out spies won't be simple."
Yukchil fell silent.
From the Tang Clan incident to Nangong World, the matters were grave. It wasn't that Kang Mujin stirred trouble wherever he went—it might be that trouble lurked everywhere he went.
'Then what to do?'
History showed internal foes deadlier than external ones. Unite poorly, and you'd spark civil strife. The Tang Clan example: deep involvement made spies hard to spot for outsiders.
"Don't lose heart. We have reliable allies now. It's not hopeless. Move faster than them like now, and we'll find answers."
Kang Mujin almost mentioned the Golden Light Blood Battle but held back. It was future history, hard to verify now. The Demonic Cult would be watching the Beggars' Sect and Nangong Clan closely—rash moves could backfire badly.
'First, the Mythical Demon Armor.'
Since the Demonic Cult coveted it, a scramble for the treasure was inevitable. Leak info on it, and they'd react somehow. For that, he'd need Narin's cooperation.
'It was way harder back then.'
-Save the bragging for after you beat the Beastmaster.
Compared to Murim during the Demonic Cult invasion, things were solid now. Maintaining this beat that despair. But as the Demon King said, watch for that Beastmaster—his power and goals remained vague.
As he tidied up to rest.
Hm?
He sensed something off.
Kang Mujin cracked open the room's window.
Someone had scoped his carriage then vanished. Could be a thief checking it out, but suspicious.
'What's this now?'
-See?
'I said no.'
-You're a trouble magnet.
Fine, he'd ignore it out of spite.
Regrettably, the inn was rowdy. Eating in the dining hall was foolish indeed. To avoid brawls, room service was key—the shortcut to dodging inn massacres.
A refreshing afternoon.
A bright day with the sun high.
Kang Mujin leisurely ate breakfast and lunch in his room, then packed snacks. Qingcheng Mountain was a post-meal jaunt; if hungry en route, picnic time.
No boat from the docks.
Without prior arrangements, finding a vessel for horse and carriage was tough. With a road along the river, he drove the carriage.
He opened the carriage window, watching sunlight glint off the river. A cool breeze wafted in, irking his mood.
'These bastards!'
Clinging to a guy just trying to leave peacefully. If they'd let him go yesterday, he'd have said "Thanks!" and picked another target.
-See!
'Shut it.'
He'd deliberately not left early. Waited out the suspicious vibe before moving. Yet these fools kept drawing him in blindly.
Can't they see the Tang Clan markings?
-That's the point—they know it's Tang Clan and still touch it. Admit it already.
'Don't make me laugh.'
The Tang Clan's gifted carriage was VIP-grade, reserved for clan head and elders. Unless blind, no one in Sichuan targets it.
Targeting it openly screamed ulterior motives.
Haa, haa!
Every breath brought scorching heat tormenting his flesh. His once-pristine white robes were slashed and stained red in places.
How did this happen?
Even fleeing, he couldn't believe it. If dreaming, it was a vicious nightmare. Why would his junior sister, with whom he'd shared sword training and joys, poison him and his senior brother?
She urged nonstop lightness skill alongside her senior brother. But his energy was crumbling.
"Senior brother, snap out of it!"
"Se-rin, I think I'm done for..."
His lapse into unconsciousness filled her with despair.
They'd descended Mount Emei to soothe weary bodies and minds from long training. Just sightseeing and mingling—yet she and her senior were poisoned, now hunted.
Even that had reached its limit. Dragging him this far, she realized they'd been lured exactly as intended.
Crunch!
Pursuers encircled them.
Emei Sect's divine maiden Jeok Se-rin glared venomously at Im Yeon-hong. Who'd guess her own junior sister poisoned them? Recalling how she'd trailed after her made the reality unbelievable.
"Persistent. Just surrender."
"Why are you doing this!"
"Can't comprehend? It's obvious. I want to lead Emei as the next Sword Empress. But senior brother's too talented. Grasping one leads to ten—such luck rubs me wrong."
Im Yeon-hong bared long-hidden envy and jealousy without restraint. The compliant junior who'd obeyed flawlessly was gone. She'd worn a mask her whole life for this day.
Masked figures flanked Im Yeon-hong. In civilian garb, hard to identify by clothes alone. But as swordsmen, they wielded blades adeptly.
They stuck to basic forms to hide identities, but the qi from their swords was no joke. Such auras screamed elite.
"Why Qingcheng Sect?"
"Worthy of a divine maiden—spotting us from basics alone. What an honor."
A deep voice dripped thick killing intent, ruthless resolve to kill. He hid Qingcheng's signature moves to conceal himself, avoiding traces on body or surroundings.
"Think that'll erase traces? Our sect will track you!"
"Senior brother, think we overlooked that? You overestimated me."
Jeok Se-rin trembled at her junior's scheme and their aims. She'd sensed ulterior motives. Without exploiting their inability to use signature moves, the poisoned pair couldn't have fled.
Like insulting a cornered foe, Im Yeon-hong calmly admonished. Full of malice, as if awaiting this day.
"Struggling only prolongs suffering. Buddha must be impressed by now—serve these gentlemen zealously for your pursuit's sake. Who knows? Buddha might pity you. Oh, but eyeless, he might not recognize."
"Vile wretch! How could you! Who are you really!"
"Poor, foolish senior brother—denial changes nothing."
"Heaven watches! Think it'll go your way!"
"Hohoho, so naive. Even if heaven watches, then what? Want lightning? Why no strike? Your pious act annoys it."
With unconscious Senior Brother Mu-ae behind her, Jeok Se-rin shook with rage. Better if he'd passed out. Was this the gentle Im Yeon-hong she knew? She'd rather believe an impostor posed as her junior. She wished it so desperately.
"Junior sister, please stop!"
"I've stalled enough. Time to end it."
Realizing Im Yeon-hong's cunning ploy as she tried prolonging talk, Jeok Se-rin saw the truth: it was the junior buying time, not her.
But why?
The mystery resolved swiftly.
Clop, clop!
A carriage approached, sun at its back. As shape and emblem emerged, Jeok Se-rin grasped her junior's intent.
And trembled in fury.
"No way?"
"Sichuan's masters are us and Qingcheng."
The Nine Great Sects and Five Great Clans, as orthodox pillars, expanded influence and purged evil together under justice and chivalry.
Yet their rigid orthodox world bred friction unseen publicly. In Sichuan, Emei, Qingcheng, and Tang Clan fiercely vied for turf.
The issue: divergent goals. From Buddhist-Daoist Emei and Qingcheng's view, Tang expansion was a threat.
Clashes arose repeatedly but stayed under wraps. Pragmatic Tang held the edge.
Still, this crisis was mere pretext.
They knew solo-handling Tang was impossible. Use these to unite Emei and Qingcheng, and checking Tang becomes easier.
"You commit atrocities yet claim sect loyalty? Spare me the nonsense!"
Jeok Se-rin steeled her resolve. Poisoned, but her spirit held. She'd drag them to doom here on this mountain if needed.