Chapter 194
Chapter 194
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 194
Chapter Title: The Old Murim
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At Elder Gok's words, I nodded my head.
“Yes. That’s why I’m asking you, sir.”
“Hmm….”
With a small groan, Elder Gok closed his eyes and fell deep into thought.
After stroking his beard for a long time, he finally spoke again.
“There doesn’t seem to be no possibility.”
“R-Really?”
Zhuge Genyeong stuttered, evidently quite shocked.
Elder Gok nodded at him and continued.
“Yes. Looking at it from the perspective of sorcery, there are quite a few similarities to spells.”
Elder Gok immediately launched into a detailed explanation.
“Reciting the incantation in your head brings out the effect. It’s the same as sorcerers chanting spells. A chant is fundamentally for visualizing the essence of the spell in the mind.”
“Then what about drinking blood…?”
“Like drawing talismans with horse blood, we can see the blood itself as some kind of catalyst.”
Of course, it was all just a hypothesis for now—the explanation came to an end.
I pressed on with my questions right away.
“So, does creating the blood jade inside the bodies of Blood Burst Technique practitioners represent its original effect?”
“As I said, it’s just a simple hypothesis so far. It’s hard to say anything definitive without a proper investigation.”
“I see…?”
I tried to hide my disappointment when Elder Gok spoke up first this time.
“Patriarch, may I ask a favor?”
“You wish to investigate the Blood Burst Technique practitioners?”
Zhuge Genyeong immediately grasped what the request would be.
“Yes. Now that we’ve confirmed the possibility, I think we need to look into it properly.”
“Hmm….”
Zhuge Genyeong let out a small groan but soon gave his ready approval.
“It’s something I’d like to request myself. If this investigation opens a path to curing the blood clansmen, then by all means.”
Hearing that, I realized that back during the Demonic Cult’s rampage in the past, none of the eccentric scholars studying Blood Burst Technique practitioners had been sorcerers.
“…Now that I think about it, it probably never even occurred to them to seek help from sorcerers.”
“The Embroidered Uniform Guards treated every sorcerer as a Demonic Cult lackey and purged them. After that, they couldn’t very well ask for cooperation.”
It would be like the enemy who’d slaughtered their kin and threatened their own lives suddenly begging for help.
Sorcerers were people too, after all—they wouldn’t have given it the time of day.
No, they’d probably been too busy fleeing the Embroidered Uniform Guards from the start.
“If you find a cure, sir…”
“Heh heh, I haven’t even done a proper investigation yet. Don’t burden me too much.”
I smiled at Elder Gok’s exaggerated grumbling while thinking to myself.
If Elder Gok truly found a cure, then in the end, the Embroidered Uniform Guards would be left looking like utter fools.
*
After our talk with Elder Gok concluded, he saw us off as we left the hall.
“Young Hero Goon, how much longer do you plan to stay with our clan?”
Elder Gok asked me just before we exited the courtyard.
“Well, we’ve achieved the goal of coming here, so it’s about time to head to the next destination. Probably… within three days.”
I hadn’t heard anything specific from Hwaryeon yet, but I figured it’d be around then.
Elder Gok pondered my answer for a moment before nodding and making an unexpected request.
“Three days… Then, would you visit me once more before you go?”
“Yes? For what purpose…?”
“Nothing major—I still haven’t repaid you for saving my friend Yeon Sa-kyung.”
I waved it off at those words.
“No, I already received a precious gift from Elder Yeon. There’s no need for more….”
“His gratitude and mine are separate matters. Besides, you saved people from the Zhuge Clan too, so please don’t refuse.”
When he put it like that, turning him down would be rude.
I scratched the back of my head and promised to come again.
As we departed Elder Gok’s residence and walked along, Zhuge Genyeong muttered softly.
“…Do you think the elder can find a cure?”
“It won’t be easy. Even a host of eccentric scholars couldn’t find a way.”
His face darkened at my less-than-optimistic reply.
I glanced at him and tacked on the rest.
“Still, it’d be great if he could.”
“…Yes. All we can do is hope for a different outcome from the past.”
…The past?
Right—the past!
“Young Hero Goon?”
Zhuge Genyeong turned back with a puzzled look as I suddenly halted.
Having remembered something I’d completely forgotten, I gave an awkward smile and asked.
“Patriarch? Might you be busy afterward?”
“Yes? Oh, no. I have no particular schedule. Why do you ask?”
“There’s actually something I absolutely need to ask you, and it just came back to me.”
“Something to ask?”
Zhuge Genyeong tilted his head, then stiffened at my response.
“Yes. About the Zhuge Clan’s forbidden texts—and the old Murim.”
*
When I brought up the forbidden texts and the old Murim, Zhuge Genyeong answered, “…It should be fine,” and led me to the Scripture Pavilion.
“The Scripture Pavilion… Is that where the forbidden texts are kept?”
“Yes. They’re normally stored in secret in the pavilion’s innermost chamber. Only the Pavilion Master knows the precise location.”
We arrived at the Scripture Pavilion as he explained.
True to its name, the musty scent of old books wafted out even from beyond the main gate—and it wasn’t far from Elder Gok’s residence.
The hall’s caretakers clearly worked diligently; the oiled doors glided open silently.
“Y-Young Master…?”
“Ah, don’t mind us—carry on with your duties. That said, where might the Pavilion Master be…?”
The man who appeared to be a pavilion clerk startled at the sight of Zhuge Genyeong the moment we stepped inside.
After excusing ourselves and inquiring after the Pavilion Master’s whereabouts, the clerk dazedly pointed toward the interior.
We ventured further in that direction and found the Pavilion Master from the earlier meeting.
He’d been scribbling away intently but leaped to his feet the instant he spotted Zhuge Genyeong.
“P-Patriarch!”
His shout reverberated through the hall’s interior.
Every eye turned our way, and Zhuge Genyeong asked with an awkward smile.
“Do you have a moment?”
“Yes! Of course! I’d make one even if I didn’t!”
…Was that the mark of a true company man?
I inwardly admired the Pavilion Master’s crisp display of discipline before his new boss as we followed him to an empty chamber within the pavilion.
“Please, wait just a moment! I’ll fetch some refreshments at least.”
“No, that’s not necessary…”
The Pavilion Master vanished like a gust of wind before Zhuge Genyeong could finish.
Zhuge Genyeong stared blankly at the vacated spot for a beat before letting out a soft sigh.
“He’s trying so hard to look good—you should show some attention.”
“Don’t tease.”
I chuckled at the sharp retort when the Pavilion Master reappeared, refreshments in hand.
“Here, Patriarch. Have a taste. These are flower cakes we just stocked today.”
“Ah, yes…”
Under the insistent prodding—not quite insistence—he ended up devouring more than half the flower cakes before we broached the main subject.
“Yes? The forbidden text?”
The Pavilion Master’s eyes went wide at Zhuge Genyeong’s request to retrieve it.
His darting gaze flicked toward me.
“…You mean to show it to your guest?”
“Yes. He wishes to learn about the old Murim.”
“There will be no leaks to the outside.”
The Pavilion Master groaned softly at my words before nodding solemnly and rising from his seat.
How much time passed after that? When he returned to the chamber, a single worn and slender volume rested in his hands.
“Is that… the forbidden text?”
“Yes. It’s the sole record of the Murim’s history from before the Ming founding.”
I accepted the book, which he handed over gingerly with faintly trembling hands.
The title-less tome on its cover looked weathered by the ages, liable to crumble at the slightest rough handling.
*Gulp*
Tension made me swallow.
The tale of the old Murim that I yearned to know lay within these pages.
I opened the book with utmost care, ever so slowly.
And there, on its very first page, stood just four bold characters.
“Murim… extermination?”
My face hardened at the foreboding phrase, and I flipped straight to the next page—only for my brows to furrow on their own.
“…It’s a total mess.”
The calligraphy itself wasn’t poor.
But it had been scrawled every which way, likely in dire haste at the time of writing, rendering it a trial to read.
On top of that, thoughts had been jotted down pell-mell as they occurred, with scarcely any full sentences.
[We were defeated.]
[No one survived. I’ll be dead soon too.]
[Damn wolf bastards.]
[The Murim too, and all its martial arts with their long histories, will vanish entirely.]
[Those who wield sword qi are peak experts. Those who wield sword gang are called Flower Realm.]
The legible passages grew ever more stained with red toward the latter pages.
Was this… written in blood?
Each character, inked with blood for lack of proper ink, oozed raw desperation.
-May it not be forgotten. May someone remember.
Feeling the desperate plea etched into every stroke, I reached the final page—where actual prose at last appeared.
[Transmitted by one who survived ignominiously for not being a martial artist.]
The script differed utterly from the preceding pages.
Evidently another hand.
I read through the final page’s densely packed text.
[The Central Plains Murim fell. To the wolves from those northern steppes. With our defeat, the Song will perish soon enough too.]
“Song? You don’t mean…?”
If the Song named here matched the dynasty I knew, then the “wolves from the north” clicked into place as well.
I looked up at Zhuge Genyeong, who nodded gravely.
“Yes. The old Murim was annihilated by the Murim Extermination Policy—perpetrated by the Yuan Dynasty, those steppe Mongols.”