153. The Grand Scheme (3)
“Nngh……”
A presence sounded right in front of him again, and Han Bin halted his steps.
Pressing himself flat against the stone wall, Han Bin cautiously peered into the chamber.
For a moment, he tilted his head in confusion.
Someone lay collapsed right before his eyes.
Blood pooled around the man in dark stains.
Following the trail of blood with his gaze, Han Bin saw it stretched all the way to where he stood.
The wound had been inflicted elsewhere.
This meant the man had dragged himself from that spot to this room, seeking refuge.
Chased here by someone?
Judging by his condition, the injury seemed fatal.
Han Bin didn't approach carelessly.
He still couldn't tell if the man was friend or foe.
As Han Bin narrowed his eyes, a stealthy footfall echoed from behind.
He didn't even turn around. The source was undoubtedly Hwang Bo-man-cheong.
The man had followed the traces Han Bin had deliberately left along the way.
As Hwang Bo-man-cheong drew up beside him, Han Bin murmured in a low voice.
“There's someone inside. From his attire, he looks like one of your Huangbo clansmen.”
“Thank you.”
With a curt reply, Hwang Bo-man-cheong began scanning the interior.
Swoosh.
The moment he poked his head in, his voice trembled.
“That back… it looks just like my second son's……”
Unable to finish his sentence, Hwang Bo-man-cheong rushed desperately toward the fallen figure on the stone floor.
Thud-thud-thud.
Han Bin swiftly thrust out a hand to stop him.
“Sir, hold on a moment.”
Slap.
Brushing aside Han Bin's hand, he charged toward the man.
It was the instinct of a father, no doubt.
Hwang Bo-man-cheong began examining the man closely.
His shoulders quivered.
The one lying there was his second son, Hwang Bo-yeong-u.
Just this morning, he'd been perfectly fine.
Yet now he lay here, a bloody mess?
His shock was brief. Hwang Bo-man-cheong quickly sealed his son's pressure points.
Poke! Poke!
To staunch the bleeding from Hwang Bo-yeong-u's wounds.
As the blood flow from the gaping injuries slowed, he hoisted his son upright.
Watching from behind, Han Bin narrowed his eyes.
The face certainly matched Hwang Bo-yeong-u's.
Quietly stepping forward, Han Bin handed over an emergency salve.
“Sir, you'd best apply this.”
“Thank you.”
Not even turning his head, Hwang Bo-man-cheong accepted it.
He uncapped it and began smearing the sticky ointment over Hwang Bo-yeong-u's wounds.
As the salve sealed the gashes, the bleeding stopped.
Finishing the first aid, Hwang Bo-man-cheong pulled a pill from his robe and shoved it into his son's mouth.
Swoosh.
Then he propped Hwang Bo-yeong-u into a seated position.
The man still couldn't speak, but thanks to the treatment, he could at least sit up on his own.
Without delay, Hwang Bo-man-cheong placed his palm against his son's back.
It seemed the pill he'd just administered was one of the Huangbo clan's precious elixirs.
He intended to help his son absorb it.
Sure enough, Hwang Bo-man-cheong cried out urgently.
“Stand guard for me! I won't forget this debt.”
“Understood. We'll settle accounts later.”
With that, Han Bin gripped Wol-a in his left hand and positioned himself at the chamber entrance.
Caressing the blade as if ready to draw at any moment, he circulated his forms once more.
Lightning Flash.
He'd cleave down any foe that appeared.
An hour passed since Han Bin began standing guard.
He kept vigilant watch, but nothing happened.
Not even a rat stirred in these secret passages.
Han Bin mulled over the situation.
His conclusion?
Given the mechanisms' design, there were likely multiple paths leading here.
That fit with the man having fled here after a fight.
So, who had Hwang Bo-yeong-u clashed with?
That would reveal itself in time.
Then.
A sigh came from behind.
“Hoo……”
Turning, Han Bin saw Hwang Bo-man-cheong lifting his palm from Hwang Bo-yeong-u's back.
It appeared he'd successfully guided the qi to dissolve the elixir's effects.
As Han Bin moved to approach, Hwang Bo-man-cheong raised a palm and barked softly.
“Don't come closer!”
“Sir, what……”
Han Bin trailed off.
Hwang Bo-man-cheong's complexion was off.
Moments ago, the flickering torchlight had flushed his face red.
Now it was deathly pale.
Hwang Bo-man-cheong's shoulders twitched.
Suddenly, he vomited blood.
Urk.
The splatter on the floor contained dark clots.
Poison, without a doubt.
In a flash, Han Bin's mind raced through what was to come.
He sharpened his gaze, scanning the surroundings.
This trap wasn't aimed solely at the Huangbo clan.
It ensnared Han Bin and the Hebei Paeng family too.
Even if Han Bin escaped alone, Hwang Bo-man-cheong wouldn't survive.
The plotters would pin the blame on him back at the Huangbo stronghold.
But they'd overlooked one thing.
Han Bin himself was here, hiding his true power.
More than an ally—he was a chance to forge a blood pact.
Should he thank them for the opportunity?
To put it simply?
Han Bin chuckled softly and nodded.
Turning, he cautiously approached Hwang Bo-man-cheong.
The man shouted again.
“Stay back! I'm entrusting my eldest to you.”
He seemed ready to abandon his own life and his second son's.
What poison is this?
It wasn't hard to deduce.
The symptoms matched those of Jeong Mu-ryong, head of the Henan Jeong clan.
The higher the realm, the more violently poison reacted. While guiding his son's qi, Hwang Bo-man-cheong had drawn the toxin into himself.
Its ferocity, enough to make him forfeit his life, stemmed from his superior realm compared to Jeong Mu-ryong.
Han Bin drew two antidote pills from his robe.
Custom remedies Jang Ja-myeong had made at his request after the Henan Jeong incident.
Far more potent than what had treated Jeong Mu-ryong.
As Han Bin drew near, Hwang Bo-man-cheong yelled once more.
“Don't……”
But he couldn't finish.
Han Bin had popped the pill into his mouth.
Plop.
In a quiet voice, Han Bin said,
“Sir, circulate it through your Grand Celestial Circuit. But don't think this is free.”
“……”
Hwang Bo-man-cheong nodded silently.
His gaze briefly shifted to Hwang Bo-yeong-u.
But Han Bin was already at his son's side.
As Hwang Bo-man-cheong circulated his qi, he watched.
Han Bin's movements were, as expected, the pinnacle of the northern reaches.
Swiftly dumping a pill into Hwang Bo-yeong-u's mouth, Han Bin pressed his palm to the man's back.
Hwang Bo-man-cheong's lips quivered at the sight.
But he couldn't speak.
He'd begun expelling the poison with the antidote's aid.
Opening his mouth now would render it useless.
All he could do was watch Han Bin treat his son in silence.
Can he really pull this off?
Even I ended up like this—can Hebei's fourth young master purge my son's poison?
It felt like using an egg to smash a rock.
Yet he had no choice but to watch.
Hwang Bo-man-cheong bit his lip.
If they survived this?
They'd owe Han Bin a debt beyond repayment.
He vowed to pay any price to the man who saved them both.
Suddenly, Hwang Bo-man-cheong's eyes widened.
He felt the poison's aura gradually fading.
And not just that.
Color was returning to Hwang Bo-yeong-u's face as well.
Reincarnation of Hua Tuo?
Hwang Bo-man-cheong stared at Han Bin in astonishment.
His assumption wasn't far off.
Without Han Bin, no one could have treated Hwang Bo-yeong-u so quickly.
Han Bin was employing a method that would make even Hwang Bo-man-cheong faint if he saw it clearly.
Forcing self-absorption of the antidote was impossible with Hwang Bo-yeong-u's faint pulse.
Like Hwang Bo-man-cheong, Han Bin guided qi into him.
The problem? The poison flowed through Han Bin's palm into him.
As the toxin filled him, the restorative effects activated naturally.
That's when he recalled the human-grade form, Gisa Hoesaeng.
In his final duel with the Heavenly Mountain Blood Wolf, Gisa Hoesaeng had saved his life.
Recalling that fight, the wolf's wounds had healed too.
Were sword cuts and poison damage so different?
They might be the same—or not.
Han Bin decided to test it.
He plunged his right index finger deep into the gash on Hwang Bo-yeong-u's back.
Then he rapidly circulated Gisa Hoesaeng.
In that instant, color returned to Hwang Bo-yeong-u's face.
Once the recovery stabilized, Han Bin withdrew his hand.
That's when it happened.
A strange noise echoed from the passage.
Screeech, screeech.
An ear-grating scrape, like metal dragged across stone.
Hwang Bo-man-cheong, meditating in lotus position, twitched his brow. Han Bin spoke up.
“I'll check it out.”
“……”
Hwang Bo-man-cheong nodded wordlessly, and Han Bin vanished with only the whisper of his robes.
Swish—rustle.
Observing Han Bin's departure, Hwang Bo-man-cheong unconsciously smacked his lips.
The young are to be feared.
He, who'd charged ahead blindly to glimpse the martial peak, felt a twinge of shame.
Sometimes, one must look back.
By the time it would take to sip a cup of tea after Han Bin left, he opened his eyes.
Hwang Bo-man-cheong had recovered about half his usual power.
Then.
Hwang Bo-yeong-u collapsed beside him.
Thud.
Vomiting up a clot of blood as he fell.
Cough.
Hwang Bo-man-cheong exhaled in relief.
“Phew.”
His son's complexion had fully returned.
Likely, the final poison expulsion had exhausted him.
Then.
The clash of weapons rang out distantly.
Clang! Clang!
Hwang Bo-man-cheong narrowed his eyes.
Without hesitation, he hoisted his son onto his back.
He couldn't leave him here, nor abandon Han Bin to danger.
The choice was clear: carry his son and join Han Bin.
Han Bin crossed blades with a black-clad masked figure.
They'd already exchanged over twenty passes.
The issue? He couldn't fully unleash Gugeol Ship-pal-bo or Lightning Flash.
The space where they dueled was far too cramped.
The masked figure spoke.
“Not bad.”
Han Bin could almost see the sneer twisting beneath the mask.
Grinning back, he retorted,
“That's my line. How long do you plan to hide your strength?”
“Until you reveal yours.”
“Oh ho, nice idea. Let's see who shows their hand first.”
Han Bin met the eyes peering through the mask.
Demonic energy emanated even from that gaze.
He tilted his head.
This demonic aura felt qualitatively different from the remnant blood demon he'd fought before.
Not from the Demonic Cult?
Han Bin had pegged the masked figure as no cultist.
What was his true identity?
Han Bin brushed the question aside.
He'd make him submit, then ask.
Swiftly, he circulated a Yongrin Sword Art form.
Swift Sword Nanma!
In an instant, Han Bin's sword trembled against the foe's.
Rrrumble, rrrumble.
Vibrations arose between the blades, creating an eerie resonance.
Han Bin smirked and continued,
“My sword keeps whining.”
“Your sword is whining?”
As the brows above the mask twitched, Han Bin glanced slyly at Wol-a and quipped,
“Says this match is getting boring!”