Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Escort - Companionship, Ghost Valley (4)
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The two followed the direction the girl had vanished in.
There were no traces like footprints, and ahead lay only a dense forest, but they pressed on anyway.
And then, they encountered the jiangshi.
Crunch-.
The things hopping lightly over the withered underbrush were clearly people who had once lived here.
That much was obvious from their clothing—far too ragged and shabby to belong to warriors of the Blood Heaven Sect or the Murim Alliance.
"They're really jiangshi."
Mok Ri-won gave a bitter smile.
He spat out his blood antidote pill and gripped his sword in one hand as he spoke to Dang Hwa-seo.
"Forgive my stubbornness."
"It's fine. I didn't try to stop you to the end because I judged there was merit in what you said, Young Hero Mok."
Dang Hwa-seo smiled as she replied.
She had been right after all, and they'd run into enemies again, but it didn't sour her mood.
"At least it's fortunate. There was no lost child here."
Mok Ri-won was touched by Dang Hwa-seo's words.
He let out a soft chuckle, then stepped forward and opened his mouth.
"Stay back. I'll handle them alone."
"Are you sure?"
"They're not so numerous to warrant worry. Nor do they look strong."
There were fifteen jiangshi in total.
Their movements were linear and sluggish—enough that even a second-rate warrior could have handled them.
Indeed, just as Mok Seon-o had once said.
"They're not soldiers. Time to let them rest."
They were far too weak.
*
Slash-.
Mok Ri-won severed the neck of the foremost jiangshi charging at him.
It was a simple horizontal slash, devoid of any finesse or technique.
Yet the jiangshi's head came clean off.
Next came an attack from behind.
Mok Ri-won twisted his body with minimal motion and sliced its neck.
Slash-.
Mok Ri-won's expression was somber.
No—more accurately, tinged with sorrow.
There was one reason.
For the first time since learning the sword, in his first life-or-death battle with another.
...There was none.
He felt no killing intent from his foes.
It wasn't that they hid it well.
Simply put, these things had no will to kill anyone.
They merely lunged mechanically at anything entering their range, collapsing in the process, over and over.
He didn't know whose doing it was.
Nor why they had been left abandoned here.
Mok Ri-won found it heartbreaking.
...Even if they are so pitiable, the world does not lend an ear to the voices of the weak.
Just as Mok Seon-o had said, their cries had reached no one, and that saddened him.
Slash-.
The last jiangshi's head fell.
Mok Ri-won steadied his breath.
The difference in skill was so overwhelming he hadn't even broken a sweat.
With everything finished, Mok Ri-won sheathed his sword and bowed his head.
He closed his eyes softly and offered silent words within.
Rest now.
It was a moment of silent prayer.
In the now-silent underbrush, Mok Ri-won continued his prayer for a long while before opening his eyes.
'Master, I think I understand now a little.'
And with that, he answered the question that had long lingered in his heart.
A firm answer, free of further hesitation.
—Why must a hero be a warrior?
'Because the voices of the weak do not reach.'
—Heroism for what purpose?
'To speak for their voices.'
Thus, the path ahead.
'So that fewer souls fade away powerless.'
It was, after all, the way of the hero.
*
Dang Hwa-seo watched the entire process in silence.
It had ended so easily she wondered if it was really okay, but no words came to mind, so she simply waited for Mok Ri-won to finish his prayer.
Then.
Thud-.
Mok Ri-won collapsed to the side.
"...Young Hero!"
Dang Hwa-seo rushed to him in quick strides and checked his condition.
His face was deathly pale.
His breaths came in ragged gasps, and the tips of his eyebrows trembled faintly.
What could this be all of a sudden?
As the thought crossed her mind, Dang Hwa-seo belatedly remembered something she had overlooked.
'The blood antidote pill!'
From the start of the battle until now, Mok Ri-won hadn't taken his pill.
'You fool...!'
The curse was aimed at both Mok Ri-won for not taking it and herself for not noticing.
It couldn't be helped.
Remnant Blood Valley was a land saturated with poison qi and deathly aura.
Even for a pinnacle realm warrior like Mok Ri-won, enduring bare-handed was no easy feat.
This was clear poisoning.
Dang Hwa-seo's hand reached for his bundle.
First, make him take a fresh blood antidote pill to halt further poisoning.
But as she rummaged through the bundle, her expression crumpled rapidly.
'None left.'
The one he'd had until moments ago must have been the last.
'He hid it?'
He had kept it from her.
The reason wasn't hard to guess.
He had insisted on pushing forward despite knowing it was time to turn back.
He had deemed this matter more important than the poison spreading through his body.
A foolish, idiotic choice—fitting for him, yet...
'Damn it...!'
The worst possible decision.
Dang Hwa-seo thought quickly.
'What to do...'
She looked around.
They were in the heart of Remnant Blood Valley.
Even sprinting at full lightness skill speed, it would take half a day more to escape.
Rushing out now was ideal, but there was no guarantee Mok Ri-won could hold out that long.
It wasn't a matter of life or death.
The problem was the aftereffects if the poison burrowed deep into his organs.
Dang Hwa-seo ground her teeth and reaffirmed what needed doing.
'Detoxify the young hero, escape Remnant Blood Valley, and recuperate.'
Recuperation could be handled with the human-faced spider's inner core.
So, focus on detoxification and escape.
She needed to slow the poison's progress as much as possible.
Then carry Mok Ri-won out.
Dang Hwa-seo calmly reaffirmed her tasks.
She slapped Mok Ri-won's cheeks.
"Young Hero Mok! Can you hear me?"
"Ungh...."
His eyelids fluttered, revealing half-dilated pupils.
Even in this state, his gaze turned toward her—he hadn't lost his senses completely.
"Listen carefully. I'm going to draw out your poison starting now. I'll handle the movement, so focus on just one thing."
Dang Hwa-seo drew a small dagger from her bosom and pricked Mok Ri-won's left index finger.
A few drops of blood welled up slowly.
Confirming it, she continued.
"Direct the poison toward the wounded spot. You mustn't lose consciousness. Blink twice if you understand!"
She nearly shouted it.
Mok Ri-won blinked twice in response.
Dang Hwa-seo nodded, hoisted him up piggyback-style.
She guided one of his arms around her neck, then took his wounded finger in her mouth.
"Don't move your arm!"
A hazy dark-green aura spread from Dang Hwa-seo's body, gathering in her legs.
Immediately after.
Taat-!
Dang Hwa-seo's form shot forward swiftly.
*
A fierce wind stinging his face.
Soft hair whipping about, gently slapping his cheeks.
And the soft, warm sensation at the tip of his left index finger.
Slurp.
Mok Ri-won dimly registered them all.
His eyes remained half-closed.
His stomach churned, breathing was labored.
His head throbbed as if he'd never hurt this badly before.
'Poison qi...'
He had to expel it.
It wasn't his own judgment in his haze; he recalled Dang Hwa-seo's words.
Having lied to fight the jiangshi, ignoring her now would earn him a scolding, so he acted.
Fortunately.
Even amid the poison-ravaged chaos, his wild inner energy rampaged through his meridians relentlessly.
Inner energy flowed from his dantian, surging along the meridians.
Drenched in the poison permeating his body, it gathered at his waist, chest, shoulder, arm, and finally the tip of his index finger.
Then.
Slurp-.
A stinging surge accompanied by the moist, warm embrace of flesh around his finger.
In his daze, Mok Ri-won thought.
For some reason, it tickled pleasantly.
If not for his body's wretched state, it felt so comfortable and warm.
The soft hair slapping his cheeks carried a scent different from his own.
The sensation of someone hugging him tightly eased his tension.
A faint smile tugged at Mok Ri-won's lips.
He was reveling in the comfort when he realized something.
'Little Sister's scent.'
The faint sweet aroma that always lingered around Dang Hwa-seo.
Realizing it was her natural fragrance brought the smile.
Slurp-.
Another sound, another sensation at his fingertip.
That was the last sensation Mok Ri-won felt.
As his body gradually eased, he slipped into sleep.
*
At the stream marking the end of Remnant Blood Valley.
There sat a sweat-soaked woman and a man lying carefully on the ground.
The woman, not even catching her breath, checked the man's complexion.
She scooped stream water to trickle into his mouth, wiped sweat from his face with a cloth scrap, and only then relaxed, slumping down.
As she caught her breath, anger rose on the woman's face.
But it wasn't the sort aimed to harm the man.
She raised her right hand to his cheek and pinched hard, stretching the skin.
Her lips moved as if scolding him, but whether he knew or not, the man remained deep in sleep with a faint smile.
Watching it all from afar was the girl Mok Ri-won and Dang Hwa-seo had seen in Remnant Blood Valley's village earlier.
"Heh heh, that guy's sleeping like a log."
Her laughter sounded just like an old man's.
Her shaking shoulders betrayed her delight.
Rip-.
The girl placed a hand on her face and peeled off the skin.
Beneath emerged the kindly face of an elderly man.
"Here, take it."
The old man handed the skin—human skin mask—to the masked figure beside him.
The man accepted it and asked.
"Are you all right?"
"What about?"
"You lost the human-faced spider. And the jiangshi too..."
"It's fine. The spider was just something I raised for health tonics anyway, and the jiangshi were a chore to clear. In exchange, I got to see something interesting."
The old man gazed warmly at Mok Ri-won in the distance.
"That Mok Clan brat made something just like him."
The masked man bowed silently at the old man's words.
"Yes, it seems the Sword Saint has done something remarkable again."
"Sword Saint, my foot."
The old man chuckled.
"Just a stubborn old coot."
The old man stretched his back with a crackle, clasped his hands behind him, and turned.
"Let's go. We've confirmed it."
"You mean..."
"We won't touch him."
The masked man glanced toward Mok Ri-won at those words.
'He passed.'
Was it good fortune, or was the man that exceptional?
The masked man knew.
How stringent the standards were of the old man now walking away with hands clasped behind his back.
She looked like any kindly grandmother, but how terrifying she truly was.
Killing Star Yeom So-so.
One of the Ten Great Masters of the orthodox sects, bearing the name in the Four Saints and Six Kings.
A dark star revered as a hero despite her profession as an assassin who punished the wicked under cover of night.
On the day the bloodbath ended, one of the ten who had decided the fate of the man bearing the Heavenly Slaughter Star.
—Watch over this child until he grows. If his sprout darkens the jianghu, I'll end him myself.
Those were Yeom So-so's words that day.
For her to turn away now meant this Mok Ri-won had earned her approval.
"What're you dawdling for? Come on!"
"I'm coming."
At the urging, the masked man shook off his thoughts and followed Yeom So-so.
They walked on.
From the cave mouth where the human-faced spider dwelled, they climbed long until a crevice appeared.
Exiting there, crossing the forest path, parting the mist beyond, they arrived at a place.
Slaughter Valley.
The jianghu's darkest star lurked today too, in the shadows of poison-choked lands, selecting her prey.