Chapter 14. You Are the 18th Sect Leader of Cheondaemun
Dokgoe's symptoms were unprecedented.
A Poison Person was a realm achieved perhaps once every few centuries. For such a Poison Person to be assaulted by the very poisons he had accumulated over a lifetime was something no one could have imagined. In truth, the mere fact that he was still alive was astonishing.
Dok Sabu's condition was like a levee on the verge of collapse during a flood. Holes had sprung up everywhere, leaking streams of water that were being temporarily plugged, but the limit had been reached. With too many breaches weakening the structure, it was on the verge of crumbling all at once.
'If that happens, Master will dissolve into a puddle of blood.'
His obese frame, pitch-black skin, and ferocious features made him intimidating, but he was the only one in this assassin training camp who had opened Won Seung's heart, the man he called master. Thanks to him, Won Seung had gained forty years' worth of inner energy and profound poison arts.
Won Seung wanted to save Dok Sabu somehow. So after training, he holed up in the medicine room. But the ingredients were woefully insufficient.
"To get more ingredients, I have to go outside."
Won Seung muttered.
Dok Sabu, with his sharp ears, heard him from the living room and cackled, kekeke.
'A mere trainee, talking about going out? Where to?'
But then he realized if Won Seung really tried to leave, it would spell disaster. Jeokhyeolsan pursued and killed any fleeing trainee to protect its secrets.
Dok Sabu knew Won Seung had decent martial skills and forty years of inner energy. But his qi circulation was lacking, and he had zero real experience. If Jeokhyeolsan came down hard, his life wouldn't be guaranteed.
He couldn't let the boy act recklessly and die.
'Guess I need to warn him ahead of time.'
Dok Sabu thought for a moment, then decided the time had come and called Won Seung over.
"I have something to tell you."
Won Seung leaned in respectfully at Dok Sabu's serious expression. Dok Sabu looked up at the western sky for a moment before slowly speaking.
"Far to the northwest, in the Gireun Mountains, there's a place called Dokgok. The peaks are so high they're snow-capped year-round, making it bitterly cold. Hidden between those snowy summits is a bizarre valley with a mild climate in all seasons—that's Dokgok. Hot springs erupt everywhere, letting all sorts of flowers and trees thrive, along with strange insects and beasts. Long ago, it was called Manhwagok, the Ten Thousand Flowers Valley."
Dok Sabu's tale reached back hundreds of years.
Long ago, a man versed in medicine discovered this wondrous valley and made it his home, calling it Manhwagok. He took in disciples there. The valley's exotic flowers, herbs, insects, and animals became ingredients for all manner of medicines. When he and his disciples' creations spread to the world, Manhwagok's fame grew far and wide.
Fame bred disaster. Back then, Dokgok lay within the borders of Seoha Kingdom. The king favored the valley's genius, but invaders destroyed the kingdom. Knowing of Manhwagok, they sent cavalry to raze it.
The genius, his family, and hundreds of disciples lived there— all were slaughtered, save the old master. Losing his wife, children, and countless students, he wept tears of blood and vowed revenge. When the invaders withdrew, he returned to Manhwagok, brewed poisons to kill men, and founded Cheondaemun.
"He is Cheondaemun's founding ancestor, the Cheondok Nojo."
Won Seung listened solemnly as Dok Sabu recounted his sect's origins, not daring to interrupt lightly. He waited gravely for what came next.
"Cheondaemun's poison arts evolved generation after generation. That's why Manhwagok became known as Dokgok. But they clashed with the Dang Clan, famed for poisons in Sichuan."
Both claimed supremacy in poisons, competing covertly. Forty years ago, a Cheondaemun disciple killed a direct Dang Clan heir in a poison duel.
"The Dang Clan never forgot the grudge. Soon after, they ambushed Dokgok."
Dokgok was bathed in blood once more. The Dang Clan had prepared thoroughly. Countless Cheondaemun disciples fell to the sudden assault, and the sect was wiped out.
"But survivors remained. They vowed never to forget Cheondaemun's grudge and to seek revenge."
Dok Sabu drew something from his waist and handed it to Won Seung—a worn iron plaque. One side read "Cheondok," the other depicted a majestic mountain.
With a solemn face, Dok Sabu said,
"In the jianghu, they call me Dokgoe. But my true identity is the 17th Sect Leader of Cheondaemun. This plaque proves it."
Dok Sabu tapped Won Seung's head with his death staff.
"Now, you are the 18th Sect Leader of Cheondaemun."
Won Seung blinked in shock.
'Me, Sect Leader of Cheondaemun?'
It felt like a mountain had dropped on his shoulders. He set the plaque down, shot to his feet, and yelled incoherently.
"Wait, Master! Hold on a second!"
He rushed to the well, drew a bucket of cold water, gulped it down, then collapsed in a heap.
'Cheondaemun Leader? I'm just fourteen! How the hell does that work?'
He was only a kid training in the assassin camp.
Survival was priority one, escape second, and revenge on the instructors third—if possible.
Won Seung fetched another bucket and dumped it over his head. His mind cleared. Still, he couldn't fathom why Dok Sabu would pass the sect leadership to him.
Dok Sabu watched Won Seung's antics through the window.
'Does the kid not grasp what being sect leader means?'
It was incomprehensible. Even for a fallen sect, one would kneel in joy at such an honor—not run off in shock.
'Still too young, maybe?'
He hadn't planned to pass the leadership from the start. He'd devoted his life to avenging the sect. He figured one lifetime was enough.
Three had survived back then. To evade the Dang Clan's pursuit, they scattered; he told his two juniors to hide and raise successors. If he defeated Dok Wang, they'd declare Cheondaemun's revival and return to Dokgok. But he couldn't surpass Dok Wang and faltered.
Naturally, he'd intended to pass leadership to one of them. Changing his mind late to give it to Won Seung was for the boy's safety after his death. His long-unseen juniors would surely protect their fellow disciple.
Won Seung returned, sat, and glared at the plaque. He sighed.
"Your grace is immense, Master, so it's only right I take on Cheondaemun's leadership and build it diligently."
He didn't want it but understood the situation. Dok Sabu felt a twinge of disappointment inwardly but smiled outwardly. Won Seung was clever and quick to adapt, after all.
"I have two juniors. Each took three disciples, they say. So Cheondaemun has those eight, me, and now you—ten in total."
"A pretty lean sect."
"One poison user can kill ten men. It's stronger than a sect of a hundred."
"True, you alone could take down a hundred, a thousand even."
"You know it well, brat."
Dok Sabu cackled, kekeke.
Won Seung thought, then asked,
"What realm must my poison arts reach to beat Dok Wang?"
Dok Sabu pondered but had no answer.
"Just avoid him."
"He's Dang Clan. Now that I'm Cheondaemun Leader, he'll come for me."
"He mastered the legendary Muyoung Jidok. Unless you're at Hyeon-gyeong or Saengsa-gyeong, you can't face him. Too weak—hide and live."
Won Seung saw the logic. Dok Wang would die someday. Cheondaemun could revive later. Hiding his title and living under another identity meant Dok Wang wouldn't bother.
Still, better to know.
"What's Muyoung Jidok like?"
"No shadow means no form. Lots of rumors. No one can say for sure what it is."
Won Seung sighed at Dokgoe—even the pinnacle poison master of the current jianghu spoke frankly.
'People blather about things they don't understand. Guess Muyoung Jidok's the same.'
Dok Sabu frowned and said,
"Dok Wang's Muyoung Jidok is a kind of heart poison. They say at Hyeon-gyeong or Saengsa-gyeong, one can wield a heart sword. No one knows what that is or how it works. They just say you kill with your mind—but who truly knows? But..."
The two had clashed by deploying three poison arts each. They used poisons simultaneously, immediately neutralizing the opponent's. Dokgoe, the Poison Person, held the advantage.
But instead of a third poison, Dok Wang wrote the character for "heart" on white paper.
And declared,
"The heart is the poison."
Dok Wang's eyes were profoundly deep, like gazing into an endless abyss. A word echoing from that abyss struck something buried deep in Dokgoe's consciousness.
In that instant, Dokgoe felt the poisons in his body quiver.
Perhaps because of his own third poison—the one he called Cheondok, Heaven's Poison.
Cheondok wasn't poison. It was a colorless, odorless qi born from neutralizing countless poisons. Harmless on its own. But entering an imbalanced human body, the equilibrium shattered, turning it toxic.
Dokgoe believed Cheondok was the legendary Muyoung Jidok. As a final resort against Dok Wang, he unleashed it—but Dok Wang's heart poison shook him, and he fell victim to his own creation.
Snapping from the brief recollection, Dok Sabu eyed Won Seung, who awaited his answer eagerly.
He recounted that day's events—the painful memory of defeat—to keep his disciple from foolishly challenging Dok Wang.
"Dok Wang shattered my poison with a single character for 'heart.' I think that's the realm of heart poison, Muyoung Jidok."
"Your Cheondok could be called Muyoung Jidok too—invisible, odorless qi that infects the foe."
Suddenly, a thought flashed through Won Seung's mind.
Dok Sabu was poisoned by his own Cheondok. Dok Wang's heart poison had disrupted his mental balance, causing the Poison Person's own poisons to undermine him.
'Maybe Dok Wang's a fraud.'
A spark of hope lightened his heart.
"Master, your sect disciple will pay proper respects."
Won Seung performed three full prostrations, and Dok Sabu, pleased, hardened his resolve.
Better to burn his last flames for his disciple than lie waiting for death.