Chapter 267
Chapter 267
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 267
>Chapter Title: Plague (2)
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‘What’s with this guy? No way?’
As Il-mok looked down at the Ascending Heaven Sword, a possibility occurred to him.
He alternated between gazing at the Ascending Heaven Sword and the murky stream for a moment before letting out a deep sigh.
“Ha. Damn it.”
Muttering a curse, Il-mok boldly approached the stream.
The closer he got to the stream, the more intensely the Ascending Heaven Sword vibrated. As if it were trying to guide him somewhere.
‘Those damn Blood Cult bastards.’
The sword’s reaction almost certainly meant it was tied to the Blood Cult’s sorcery.
Il-mok drew the Ascending Heaven Sword, took a deep breath, and hurled himself toward the stream.
The moment his body touched the visibly murky water, goosebumps erupted all over his skin.
He was nearing Transcending Demon now, and the side effects’ influence had diminished, but diving into water that looked this filthy was no easy task.
‘Not like I can just hand the sword off to someone else.’
Ever since the battle at Mount White Crane, the Ascending Heaven Sword’s ghostly energy had swelled up again. Entrusting this burdensome demonic sword to another might not just fail to uncover the Blood Cult’s sorcery—it could lead to suicidal rampages in the water.
Holding his breath, he circulated his inner energy to repel external forces and swam for a while.
Following the sword’s vibrations, Il-mok dove deep into the stream’s center. There, he spotted something eerie.
A corpse. It looked as if someone had given it a water burial, with heavy stones bound to its body in several places with ropes.
The corpse was pressed flat against the streambed by the stones’ weight. On its forehead was a single talisman.
It was a bizarre sight.
The stream’s waters kept flowing, yet the talisman showed no sign of peeling off.
And centered on that corpse, a sinister energy emanated. It hadn’t been detectable outside the stream, but up close, it was clear.
‘Those dog bastards.’
Anger creased Il-mok’s brow.
From the incident in Pyeongryang County to the one at Mount White Crane, and now this corpse.
They had no qualms about slaughtering innocent commoners.
Drawing close to the corpse, Il-mok swung the Ascending Heaven Sword in the water as if venting his rage.
Sword energy burst from his blade, flying toward the corpse and severing the ropes binding it.
Slash!
Freed from the ropes and stones, the corpse began drifting with the current. Il-mok grabbed it to keep it from floating oddly and kicked his legs.
“Pua.”
Il-mok shot to the surface, exhaling roughly. Gripping the corpse in his left hand, he unleashed Water-Skimming Flight and dashed across the water.
Tap.
As Il-mok landed on shore with the corpse, his companions approached.
“You’ve worked hard, Young Master.”
“We’re sorry. We should have stepped up.”
“Enough. First, prepare some water for washing, soap, and disinfecting alcohol.”
No sooner had he set foot on dry land than Il-mok flung the corpse from his left hand and spoke urgently.
His whole body felt like it was rotting.
* * *
From head to toe, Il-mok scrubbed himself repeatedly before emerging from the bathhouse.
‘Damn.’
A lingering grime remained, but he couldn’t bathe forever.
After his bath, Il-mok entered his hall, where people were already gathered, waiting for him.
His usual companions, plus Physician Seo Jae-pil and Maitreya Illuminated Church Branch Leader An Jeok-un.
Il-mok addressed An Jeok-un first.
“What did the investigation of the corpse reveal?”
“Upon inspection, the toxic energy and sorcery were embedded in the corpse itself, not the talisman. The talisman seems to have just been for controlling the jiangshi.”
“Jiangshi? You’re saying that corpse was a jiangshi?”
“Yes. By its condition, it appeared to have been dead for quite some time. Likely, they used the talisman to make the stone-bound jiangshi jump into the stream on its own.”
“Using jiangshi confirms it’s the Blood Cult’s doing.”
The Ascending Heaven Sword’s reaction had already solidified his suspicions.
“Daring to target innocent commoners.”
“We must bring heavenly punishment upon them, Young Master!”
As his companions raged at the Blood Cult’s atrocities, Il-mok asked An Jeok-un again.
“So, this plague outbreak was definitely from that corpse?”
“Yes.”
“Then it won’t spread further now.”
At Il-mok’s words, Physician Seo Jae-pil, standing beside An Jeok-un, shook his head.
“The jiangshi was indeed the source, but a plague is a plague, Young Master. It’s already spread among the people, and that stream’s water is contaminated with sinister energy as well.”
“Then purifying the stream and treating the patients takes priority. On top of that, we need to isolate patients from others until they recover, just as we’ve been doing.”
Il-mok summed up succinctly, and those gathered nodded in agreement.
“First, Branch Leader An Jeok-un, purify the stream’s water with the Divine Cult’s sorcerers. Block access to it for a while as well.”
“Understood.”
“The rest of you, continue focusing on caring for the plague patients.”
At Il-mok’s orders, Physician Seo Jae-pil spoke up.
“Young Master, there’s one issue.”
“Speak freely.”
“While tending to the patients, I’ve been researching why their conditions weren’t improving. This incident revealed the reason: it’s not just a plague from the stream water—sorcery is intertwined.”
“Is there a big difference?”
“Yes. What the Blood Cult prepared is a kind of curse. Simple medicine alone isn’t enough to treat it. Those lightly exposed to the curse might recover with medical qi supplementation and no further exposure, but the heavily exposed need something to drive out the sorcery.”
“Something to drive out the curse? What would that be?”
At Il-mok’s question, Seo Jae-pil wore an uncharacteristically troubled expression.
“Something imbued with pure-hearted energy.”
A hopelessly vague explanation. Seo Jae-pil seemed troubled that this was the best he could offer.
“Pure-hearted energy?”
But Il-mok suddenly recalled something from that vague description alone.
“Would this do?”
With that, Il-mok opened a chest in the hall and retrieved a small box.
No sooner had he opened it than a refreshing fragrance spread, filling the hall.
Inside the box lay three small pills: Little Azure Pills.
‘Who’d have thought I’d use these here.’
Even Il-mok felt a strange sensation as he produced the Little Azure Pills.
To demonic arts practitioners, they were no different from poison, so he’d simply stockpiled them.
They were awkward to sell, practically dead weight—Il-mok hadn’t anticipated they’d find such use.
Gazing at the Little Azure Pills, Seo Jae-pil’s eyes gleamed.
“Yes, Young Master! Those pills should suffice!”
“But there aren’t enough for all the patients.”
When Il-mok voiced his concern, Seo Jae-pil shook his head.
“Those with mild symptoms likely don’t need them. For the severe cases, we can crush and divide them.”
“Won’t dividing them weaken the energy?”
“Heh heh heh. We can supplement the energy and increase the quantity by adding other herbs.”
Light seemed to sparkle from Physician Seo Jae-pil’s eyes.
As if he were frantically recalling a lifetime of medical knowledge.
Or perhaps rejoicing over a new research subject.
‘Ahem. He’s a physician, so he must be happy to save lives…?’
Il-mok decided not to ask which of the three it was.
* * *
After the meeting, Il-mok and the others moved to handle their assigned tasks.
An Jeok-un and the sorcerers headed to the slum stream, while Seo Jae-pil took the Little Azure Pills to the Maitreya Illuminated Church’s infirmary.
The rest returned together to the hall housing the patients.
As before, they layered cloth and donned masks against contagion, resuming patient care for a time.
“Whew.”
Stepping outside the hall, Il-mok sighed lightly.
‘The side effects are mostly gone.’
Both diving into the murky river earlier and tending the patients now had drained his stamina considerably, thanks to the lingering grime.
It wasn’t the old obsessive compulsions or maddening anxiety, but his aversion to filth remained.
‘Even after reaching Transcending Demon, this won’t stick around forever, right?’
The worry flickered through his mind, but Il-mok shook his head.
‘It’s much better now. Back then, the damn side effects would’ve triggered Demonic Deviation just from approaching plague patients, let alone treating them.’
- Hmph.
It was as if a tiny, sulky snort from the shrunken side effects echoed in his head.
As Il-mok gathered his wits after musing on the side effects for a moment.
“Hm?”
His eyes caught a middle-aged man approaching the hall.
For some reason.
Though the man exuded no presence at all and seemed utterly ordinary, Il-mok couldn’t tear his gaze away.
The man glanced around like a country bumpkin as he approached the hall.
As if visiting the central capital for the first time.
Watching him, Il-mok realized the source of his unease.
The man’s gait was impossibly natural. And at his waist hung a single dao.
Even the dao’s sway with his steps was so perfectly in sync it was like an extension of his body—he hadn’t even noticed it at first.
The problem was that this natural motion contradicted the complete lack of any detectable presence.
On top of that.
‘His face… looks familiar somehow?’
An inexplicable sense of déjà vu.
As Il-mok pondered multiple questions about the unidentified man.
Smirk.
The man’s gaze, scanning about, locked precisely on Il-mok.
Whoosh!
Leaving an afterimage, the man flew forward and was suddenly right in front of Il-mok’s nose.
Screeeeech!!!
Swinging a dao drawn so fast the motion was invisible.
“!?”
Staring at the dao slicing toward him to bisect his body, Il-mok’s instincts kicked in.
Matching the foe’s motion with footwork to retreat, he instantly drew the Ascending Heaven Sword and swung it according to its subtle principles.
Boom!
But even as he deflected it, the clash of sword and dao unleashed a thunderous roar.
“Urk.”
Il-mok, unable to fully dissipate the force, let out a choked groan.
Screeeeech!
The middle-aged man’s second strike flew in. Sword aura now coated his dao.
Bracing for internal injury and gritting his teeth, Il-mok formed his own sword aura and swung the Ascending Heaven Sword to meet it.
BOOM!!!
An even greater explosion rang out, making the nearby Maitreya Illuminated Church followers and mild patients belatedly shout and scream.
“Kyaaah!”
“Eek.”
As nearby Demonic Cultists startled and rushed out.
“Incarnation!!”
Pushed back a full zhang in the second clash, Il-mok urgently extended his arm to restrain them.
Stop.
He couldn’t have them unleashing martial arts here.
Just two exchanges were enough to deduce his attacker’s identity.
He now understood why he’d felt that sense of familiarity.
He’d never faced him directly, but he’d seen the man’s portrait several times.
Add the weapon and skill level he wielded, and the inference was simple.
One of the top five experts in the current orthodox martial world, a figure who’d claimed a pillar of it despite hailing from neither the Seven Great Clans nor the Nine Great Sects.
The man who’d supplanted the Hebei Peng Clan Patriarch to claim the title of World’s Greatest Swordsman, and the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult’s top assassination target.
“What is the meaning of this? Martial Alliance Leader.”
The Martial Alliance Leader. Cheok Bae-myeong.