#4. The Third-Rate Martial Artist Gathering Spiritual Medicines (2)
“Kehek.”
A spider-like creature with a face eerily resembling a human’s spewed venomous saliva from its maw.
Sizzle.
The acidic liquid melted not just the trees but even the packed earth beneath, sending up plumes of green smoke. Even with my mouth covered by a cloth hood, my head was starting to spin dizzily.
Spiritual medicines often appeared in places where the earth's and heaven's energies converged. Such spiritual lands nurtured not only the herbs themselves but also spirit beasts. Of course, if those beasts looked utterly horrifying on sight, people sometimes called them demonic creatures instead.
“What an ugly bastard.”
Eight legs, a massive body, and a human-like face with four eyes—this was the Human-Faced Spider itself. The creature was guarding its treasure, the Millennium Flower Ginseng, wary that I might steal it away.
“Because of you, I had to trek all the way to distant Hapchi Mountain.”
I circled to its side and sliced off one of its legs. Kehek! Green blood sprayed out, filling the air with smoke and acid. For someone as weak in internal energy as me, that smoke alone was deadly poison that could kill in moments—which was why I'd detoured all the way to Hapchi Mountain first to consume the Nine-Leaf Divine Root. Worth every step.
“Even if you somehow survived here, in three years you'd be dragged off to the Tang Clan to spew venom until you withered away and died.”
Kehek. My persuasion fell on deaf ears; the Human-Faced Spider had no intention of listening.
Shwaaak. Spider silk shot out from its rear, spreading in all directions like a net and swiftly blocking off the cave passage.
“Stupid thing.”
I lit the silk with my torch. In an instant, the flames raced along it toward the spider. The fire rode the creature's slimy secretions straight to its abdomen.
Kehek. As it panicked and tried to scrape its rear against the ground, I doused it with the oil I'd prepared and set it ablaze.
Keeeehek! I thrust my sword into the horrific maw screaming its death cry, and it began thrashing wildly. Green blood poured from eyes and mouth on its human-like face—a nightmare made flesh. I backed away, and soon its movements slowed to a halt.
Only when the cave filled with a fishy stench could I finally catch my breath.
“Whew.”
Even after consuming the Millennium Lotus Herb and Emperor King Ginseng, I'd only absorbed about eight years' worth of internal energy. Precious as they were, they weren't all that effective for building power, and the Tae-eul Heart Technique limited how much I could take in anyway.
“At this rate, it'll take forever to catch up to that monster.”
The Taecheong Sword Immortal—currently known as Yong So-a—had internal energy equivalent to three jiazi, or 180 years. One hundred eighty years. My mind reeled at the sheer gap.
Still, I couldn't just sit around moping.
“If I gobble up every spiritual medicine listed in the Murim Spiritual Medicine Compendium, maybe I could get close.”
The Tae-eul Heart Technique was solid but basic. Without a superior cultivation method, absorbing energy efficiently was a pipe dream. The power didn't just vanish, sure—but dying to a sword because I couldn't harness it? What a waste.
“I need spirit pills. Spirit pills.”
Pills were far more efficient than raw herbs for boosting internal energy stores—and the rarer, from prestigious clans, the better.
“So much to do.”
As my mind wandered, I passed the spider's corpse and spotted the Millennium Flower Ginseng's leaves gleaming in a shaft of light filtering through a cave crevice.
“Never thought I'd live to eat something like this.”
Forget the pills for a moment—the sight of the ginseng chased away all worries. Rarer even than the lotus herb or emperor ginseng, the Millennium Flower Ginseng—alongside the Millennium Snow Ginseng—was renowned for dramatically enhancing yin and yang true energies and internal power. Its talent-seizing effect was legendary: it transformed the untalented into prodigies and prodigies into divine physiques. At the very least, I'd never again be the idiot who knew better but couldn't act on it.
I wasted no time, starting from the finest roots and chewing leaf by leaf to extract every drop of essence. A clear, refreshing aroma filled my mouth, wafting out with every exhale.
“Here it comes.”
Shortly after swallowing the last bit, a warm heat welled up from my lower abdomen. I quickly assumed the cross-legged position and circulated the Tae-eul Heart Technique to seize the moment.
The searing energy vastly outpowered my technique's gentle flow, rampaging wildly through my body. The pure, obedient method chased after it desperately, trying to tame the beast—but it wouldn't listen.
“Urk.”
It tore through my meridians, blasting open blockages and incinerating impurities. Agony ripped through me like my body was being shredded—but gradually, ever so slowly, the wild energy began to weaken.
The chase dragged on endlessly.
How much time had passed?
Flash.
When I opened my eyes, the light illuminating the cave was so bright I squinted. So bright?
Caves like this only got light where the ginseng grew—and even that was dim enough that I'd needed a torch to enter. For it to be this bright now...
I've changed.
My body brimmed with vitality. Thud. I punched the wall, crumbling a chunk of solid rock—without a hint of pain.
Glancing at my dantian, I saw a lump the size of a finger.
“Around fifteen years' worth?”
Meager compared to the records of the Nine Great Schools or Five Great Families—but this was energy gathered with the glacially slow Tae-eul Heart Technique. Plus, my body was now primed for martial cultivation, so future gains wouldn't be so sluggish.
“Now I can aim for those rare spirit pills.”
Conveniently, I knew of one precious pill not listed in the compendium.
“More precisely, the one the Gyerong Merchant Group lost.”
Gye Yeonseok had bought Huashan's Frost Plum Pill for his son Gye Cheolyeong. Excluding their supreme Purple Core Pill, it was their top elixir—one even true disciples rarely glimpsed. He'd mobilized his entire fortune and connections to secure it, nearly paving a brilliant future for the boy.
But his vanity ruined it all.
“Or maybe he shouldn't have trusted Huashan's experts.”
Huashan masters had visited the Gyerong Merchant Group in person. Gye Yeonseok couldn't pass up the PR opportunity and threw a banquet to flaunt his ties to the sect.
The day before Gye Cheolyeong was to take the pill, however, the Frost Plum Pill vanished from the deepest, most secure vault.
An unidentified thief had slipped past the Huashan experts and made off with it. Left chasing shadows, Gye Yeonseok begged the sect for help—but they'd already handed it over, so they washed their hands of it and left.
He eventually scraped together another fortune for a Plum Blossom Pill substitute, but the incident scarred him; no one dared mention the Frost Plum Pill around him anymore.
Yet misfortune makes the best drinking stories. The tale spread far and wide. Early rumors swirled about the thief's identity, but the pill never resurfaced.
“Who knew being a walking library would pay off like this.”
I rifled through my mental archives.
First: Monthly reports from the Murim Alliance's Hebi branch. Events in Hebi a month before and after the theft, plus major black path figures' movements.
Second: Alliance access logs. Any white path expert dodging Huashan eyes would likely be Alliance-affiliated; the logs revealed who came and went.
Third: Mission reports. Alliance experts dispatched nearby who passed through Hebi around the time.
Combining them with Jegal Cheongi's deductive methods, I narrowed it to four suspects.
“Four of them.”
Their profiles surfaced in my mind:
Chuhon Guest Leader Moksung Junja Song Won-gi.
Two of the Dot Spear Five Swords: Gu Il-mu and Jang Han-gi. They'd arrived in Hebi three days before the theft, rested three days, then left on missions.
Song Won-gi, the Five Saints Gentleman: Lingered in Hebi a month before and two months after. A ronin of upright character—hence the "gentleman" moniker—and peak realm skill. He could've bought Frost Plums anytime but devoted himself solely to the sword, like a scholar to books.
Last: The Chuhon Guest. Black path, excels in throwing arts over martial prowess, greedy for wealth. Appeared in Hebi when rumors of the pill started, vanished the day it did—and never appeared in any report again.
“The Chuhon Guest, huh...”
The deduction hit a snag. Alliance branches worldwide tracked major figures in reports—yet nothing on him post-theft. He'd likely gone fully underground, perhaps discarding the identity entirely. Thieves like that often used human-skin masks for multiple aliases.
“But no new bandit popped up around then.”
Frantically scanning my mental library for new outlaws matching the timing turned up nothing similar. Then, digging other mission reports, a hollow laugh escaped me.
“Ha!”
That's the trick he pulled.
No wonder there's no trace.
If it worked out, he'd stolen the pill without pursuit.
This'll be easy.
As I thought that and stepped over the corpse toward the exit, an immense force yanked my left arm.
“?”
Glancing down instinctively, I paled in shock.
A blue dragon coiled around my wrist—the Azure Dragon Ring from my past life, glowing beneath my skin.
What the hell?
It was bizarre enough that the ring I'd once worn had fused into my flesh—but stranger still, it was clearly pulling toward the Human-Faced Spider's corpse.
“You want its inner core?”
The spider's neidan was so venomous that even touching it meant deadly poisoning, so I'd left it alone. Yet the Azure Dragon Ring hungered for it.
Crack. Slashing open its belly made my eyes water from the stench alone. The ring flared brighter, lunging toward the core like a beast scenting prey.
“...What now.”
The Azure Dragon Ring was a relic of the Blood-Sucking Ghost Demon, one of the Small Justice Squad's Dharma Kings. I'd carried it to commemorate a hard-won victory; to my dying breath, it symbolized the squad.
“Screw it. Whatever.”
The moment my hand seized the neidan—
Sizzle.
“Guh.”
Scorching energy seared into my palm. In panic—absorption meant death—I tried to pull away.
“Huh?”
Instead, a cool, refreshing chill flowed in. The stream, thin as a brook at first, swelled into a raging river surging through me. A refreshing thrill unlike the ginseng's coursed through every fiber.
The neidan in my hand vanished completely, and my dantian felt a slightly larger lump than before.
“Holy...”
I stared at the dimming Azure Dragon Ring in disbelief.
“Should I love this thing... or hate it?”