The Path of Regret
“Huff… huff… huff!”
Tang Myung sprinted through the night like a madman, his rough breaths echoing with each desperate step.
Beside him, two middle-aged men pursued in perfect sync, their chests heaving in the same frantic rhythm.
“Young Family Head, save every last bit of strength you have left!”
Tang Hong’s plea caught Tang Myung off guard. He bit his lip hard before forcing a calm reply.
“Do not worry, sir.”
Then he poured every ounce of inner energy into his footwork, turning it into a streak of light that split the darkness like a falling star.
Watching that explosive burst, Tang Hong clenched his jaw and glanced back once. No pursuers’ energy or footsteps echoed behind them yet.
But in the pitch-black mountains, he knew they were there—close behind, hunting them like wolves.
The bloodthirsty Demon Cult soldiers…
Tang Hong stole a quick look at his younger brother, Tang Min, vice-leader of the Bicheon Unit.
Tang Min nodded firmly and stepped forward.
“Leave the Young Family Head to me.”
With those words he fished a small jade bottle from his sleeve, tipped it into his mouth, and swallowed.
Whoosh!
His face flushed scarlet in an instant. The Blood Mist Poison—one of the Tang Family’s Ten Forbidden Poisons—had taken effect.
Once ingested, the user’s blood and sweat turned into an ultra-deadly venom. Anyone who touched or inhaled it died instantly.
Worse, anyone who later came into contact with that poisoned blood would themselves become infected, turning their own life into a ticking bomb.
Tang Min thrust his palm forward. Crimson mist exploded outward in every direction.
“Forgive me,” he muttered.
“Go on, Young Family Head!”
He spun on his heel and looked back one last time as Tang Hong and Tang Myung vanished into the shadows.
Tang Myung felt his uncle’s faint energy behind him and bit his lip again. He said nothing. Instead, he carved the names of the ten Bicheon soldiers into his heart so deeply he would never forget them.
Moments later, blood-curdling screams erupted behind him.
“Kuaaah!”
“It’s poison!”
Tang Myung ground his teeth and accelerated even faster, racing toward salvation at the edge of death.
***
Tang Myung’s vision caught on the blue smoke rising into the night sky like a beacon of hope.
Piii! Boom!
A blinding explosion of light and sound erupted. Tang Hong shouted urgently.
“Qingcheng Sect signal!”
Tang Myung threw every ounce of remaining strength into his legs and charged straight toward the blast.
Papa-pat!
“There they are!”
“Who dares—”
A group of white-robed swordsmen rushed forward, swords drawn.
“It’s the Young Family Head of the Sichuan Tang Family—Tang Myung!”
Tang Hong’s voice rang out. The Qingcheng disciples immediately converged, eyes wary.
“The Flying Dragon of the Tang Family—Young Family Head Tang Myung!”
The disciples recognized him at once and formed a defensive circle, hands cupped in respect.
“Are you hurt?”
A Qingcheng elder’s face twisted with shock at the sight of the two bloodied, exhausted Sichuan men. Tang Myung answered swiftly.
“I must speak with the Sect Leader at once.”
“What is the matter?”
“We’ll explain on the way,” Tang Myung said, already moving.
The disciples nodded without question and led them toward Qingcheng Mountain.
***
Inside the grand hall of Qingcheng Sect, the sect elders and the Leader himself sat in solemn council. Tang Myung and Tang Hong stood before them.
“You have suffered greatly,” said Leader Yunji Myeonghong, voice heavy with sympathy.
Tang Myung shook his head firmly and cupped his hands.
“The Demonic Cult has launched a full-scale assault on our home base. Please send reinforcements immediately!”
Myeonghong studied him for a long moment, then sighed.
“I know you are aware… our own central sect is already locked in battle with the Demon Cult.”
“I heard the Black Wind Unit is involved,” Tang Myung continued. “Even if their strength is formidable, the troops stationed here in Qingcheng are only a token force—mere bait for the real trap. The Demon Cult’s main forces are heading straight for our home.”
Myeonghong exhaled slowly.
“You speak the truth.”
“If we can gather our strongest experts, crush the Black Wind Unit here, and dash straight to Chengdu tonight, we can still reach home by dawn.”
“Your logic is sound,” Myeonghong agreed.
“Then summon the experts at once!”
“One problem remains.”
Tang Myung’s face hardened instantly.
“What does that mean?”
“This time the Demon Cult has planted its main forces not only in Qingcheng but also in Wudang and the Amis Sect.”
“I know. That is why we sent two entire units—Visa and Pyeonbok—from our home.”
The Sichuan Tang Family’s greatest treasure was poison. In any large-scale conflict, even one Tang expert could swing the balance of power. When word reached them that the Demon Cult had planted high-level experts in Qingcheng and Wudang, the two elite units were dispatched immediately.
Yet… it was a trap.
The reinforcements had marched straight into an ambush and been slaughtered to the last man. The Demon Cult, having pinned down Qingcheng and Wudang, now turned its full wrath toward the Tang home base.
From the very beginning, the Demon Cult’s true target had been Sichuan Tang. They hated the Tang Family’s poisons so much they would endure any risk just to neutralize them. And now Sichuan Tang was the prize of the hour.
“What we fear most is a divide-and-conquer strategy,” Tang Myung said quietly.
“Divide and conquer?”
“If Qingcheng moves to aid us, they will be isolated and wiped out. If we are annihilated, the Demon Cult will immediately march on Wudang.”
“Waiting out the siege will not solve anything,” Tang Myung added.
“It is not waiting. It is buying time. The joint forces from Gugyeong, Mount Hwasan, Jinnam, and Jeomchang Sect are already on their way toward Chengdu. Once they arrive, Qingcheng and Wudang will cut off the Demon Cult’s rear.”
Tang Myung’s shoulders sagged slightly. Tang Hong quickly steadied him with a gentle grip.
Sssss!
A surge of icy inner energy erupted from Tang Myung. He scanned the sect elders with a cold gaze—elders he had grown close to over the years.
“I will make one thing absolutely clear.”
“Speak.”
“According to what you said, the time required for Gugyeong, Hwasan, Jinnam, and Jeomchang to assemble is…”
“A blood price we cannot afford,” Tang Myung finished grimly.
“Our home base is truly formidable,” Myeonghong remarked. “I believe the Tang Family will endure.”
Tang Myung forced a hollow laugh.
“Hah… hahahaha!”
“Of course our home base is strong. If the fifty elders of the Visa and Pyeonbok units who answered the call to Qingcheng and Wudang had stayed behind…”
“I would not even have reached here.”
Poison was the Tang Family’s greatest weapon. It excelled not at offense but at defense. They would place venom along the paths the enemies were sure to take, turning the very terrain against the Demon Cult. That was how they had survived even the Cult’s massive assaults so far.
If there had been fifty such poison masters instead of just one… the Demon Cult would have been wiped out before they ever reached the gates.
Tang Myung’s words hung in the air. Myeonghong cleared his throat twice.
“Hrm… hrm!”
Tang Myung’s gaze swept the hall and landed on a young Daoist. The young man quickly turned his head away, hiding a flicker of emotion.
‘So it’s Jeong Myeong… how strong could you possibly be?’
Tang Myung turned to look at Tang Hong.
“Bicheon Unit Leader.”
“Yes, Young Family Head!”
Tang Hong dropped to one knee, voice shaking with emotion.
“We came to a place we should never have entered.”
Tang Myung smiled faintly and glanced at the elders once more.
“We came to a place we should never have entered.”
“That is correct. We came to a place we should never have entered.”
“Then let us go.”
“Yes, Young Family Head!”
Tang Myung took one step forward. Jeong Myeong immediately shouted, voice urgent.
“Tang Myung! Where are you going?! If you go, you will die!”
The disciples’ faces twisted with worry. Tang Myung met Jeong Myeong’s gaze and laughed heartily.
“This is a place we should never have entered… but the place we truly must die in, we must still walk toward it! Hahahaha!”
He strode out of the hall. Tang Hong followed, laughing in the same wild, unrestrained manner.
“A man is born to live! He cannot choose where he will be born! Yet how can he not choose where he will die?!”
Tang Myung’s laughter echoed through the courtyard. Myeonghong sighed and looked at the disciples.
“They are shaken. Calm them.”
Jeong Myeong watched the two men leave, then cupped his hands and bowed alongside the other elders. They all felt the same heavy sorrow in their hearts.
***
As Tang Myung and Tang Hong descended Qingcheng Mountain, their faces were grim and unyielding.
“We should return home,” Tang Myung said quietly.
Tang Hong hesitated, then spoke.“I will return alone.”
Tang Myung smiled softly and looked toward the sky.
“A gentleman’s revenge is never too late, even if ten years pass.”
He turned to Tang Hong.
“Do not speak such words to me. My family, my brothers, my nephew are bleeding. I will not seek revenge under the name of survival.”
He glanced back at Qingcheng Mountain once more.
“And if I survive to exact revenge, it will be the Amis Sect and Qingcheng Sect who stand before me first.”
Tang Myung’s sleeve fluttered like a dragon’s wing as he vanished into the night.
Tang Hong stared after him, then laughed softly.
“A favor repaid tenfold… a grudge repaid a hundredfold…”
Muttering the Tang Family’s sacred oath, the two men slammed their feet into the ground and raced forward. The road to Qingcheng had been one of survival. This path ahead was one of death.
Papa-pat!
With every step Tang Myung’s sleeve brushed the air, and silver needles shot out like arrows.
Puff! Puff!
“Kyah—!”
“Ugh!”
Tang Myung waved his hand toward the groaning black-clad assassins who collapsed around him.
Sssss!
Invisible silver threads drifted from his fingertips.
Swish!
The thin, shimmering silver lines wrapped around the embedded needles and pulled them free with a brutal yank.
Shatter! Shatter!
The needles tore through flesh and bones, ripping the assassins’ bodies apart in a spray of blood.
Whoosh!
The needles spiraled into the air. Tang Myung’s hand flicked, catching them one by one and sheathing them back into his sleeve.
Panting heavily, he exhaled.
“Haa!”
He turned his head sideways. There, slumped against a tree, lay Tang Hong—his right arm completely severed, blood pooling beneath him.
Tang Myung reached out and gently stroked his uncle’s face, lips trembling.
He pulled the severed arm into his arms, wrapped a cloth tightly around the stump, and cradled the body against his chest.
“Together… we will go home…”
His words cut off mid-sentence. His body stiffened. A single sword—driven straight through his own chest—stood quivering before his eyes.
Tang Myung slowly turned around. There lay an assassin, arm outstretched, clutching the sword that had ended his life.
The man had thrown it in his final moment.
Cough!
Blood sprayed from his lips. Tang Myung’s knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground.
He lifted his head. Tears streamed down his face as he stared at the direction of his home base in the east.
“Home… home… home…”
Thud!
His head fell forward. He sat on the cold earth, eyes slowly closing, knowing this was not the place he was meant to rest.
And so my story ended… and began again.
A new beginning… on the day the Demon Cult’s letter reached the Tang home, declaring that the Amis Sect and Qingcheng Sect had been completely surrounded. On that day, I returned once more.