Chapter 62
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: The Serpent in the North Sea
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62.
Qingcheng?
Thats right. My name is Yeogon.
The man named Yeogon was an enigma. A Taoist from the Central Plains Qingcheng Sect, his arms a sickly blue, colder than the North Sea's blizzards, naturally aroused suspicion.
But as if to prove his worth, he assisted Han Ilsang, seemingly divining the future.
As if it were his designated role.
Han Ilsang, who had watched him with suspicion, was astonished by what Yeogon told him.
As if he could see right through everything, he proved that Han Ilsang's father was not his true father and helped crush the ambitions of the brother who had obstructed his every move. He realized that Han Yusang, the one he had called brother, planned to find the Ten-Thousand-Year Ginseng, secretly consume it to master the Ice Arts, and usurp his position.
To Han Ilsang, Yeogon's appearance by his side felt like a bond forged by the heavens.
Had he not appeared at the opportune moment.
The thought was dizzying. He would have been reduced to a mere puppet, either imprisoned in the Ice Dungeon as Yeogon had said, or cast out from the North Sea in ruin.
Taoist Yeogon.
Speak, Palace Lord.
Thank you. If not for you, disaster would have struck long ago.
Think nothing of it. It is only natural to spread the Way and help those in need.
I am truly grateful. I will grant whatever you desire.
I only wish for you to find the Ten-Thousand-Year Ginseng and achieve mastery. You must master the Ice Arts quickly to establish your authority as the Palace Lord.
At Yeogon's words, Han Ilsang nodded vigorously. If he could just master the Ice Arts, restoring the palace to its former glory would be no issue at all. Hadn't the previous Palace Lord, Han Taemun, said that the Ice Palaces golden age began only after he himself had perfected the Ice Arts?
You are right. I will find the Ten-Thousand-Year Ginseng and solidify my position as Palace Lord. Once that is done, I believe I can quickly fulfill your wishes as well.
Your words alone bring me immense joy. The Supreme Elder Lord would dance with delight to hear them.
At Yeogons smile, Han Ilsang couldn't hide his joy, reacting as if he had gained an army of thousands.
Thats right.
Even without a significant power base, he, along with Yeogon, would strengthen the Ice Palace and prove his worth.
And so, he turned the Ice Palace upside down every day, searching every ice cave. He ordered the palace warriors to search through the night for the Ten-Thousand-Year Ginseng, but there was no sign of it. As Han Ilsang grew anxious, Yeogon approached him.
How about conscripting all the ginseng hunters and herb gatherers of the North Sea to aid in the search? If you pay them a decent wage for their work, your reputation will grow, and you will quickly find what you seek.
It seemed like a brilliant idea. Convinced by Yeogon's wisdom, he gathered all the ginseng hunters and herb gatherers and put them to work on the ice mountain within the caves.
But even after a year, there was no news.
The former Palace Lord would know.
The former Palace Lord, you say?
Yeogon nodded at Han Ilsang's question.
Who else but the former Palace Lord would know of the place where all the energy of the North Sea gathers and concentrates?
I must ask him.
If simple questioning doesn't work, will you not have to punish his son before his very eyes? Though he is your brother, he is also a traitor.
Perfecting the Ice Arts was the only way for Han Ilsang to prove himself, and Yeogons words gently scratched that itch. Han Ilsang smiled in satisfaction.
And so, Han Ilsang decided.
Han Yusang I'll have that bastard brought here and tortured. Then the former Palace Lord won't be able to stay silent.
He had Han Yusang, the man he once believed to be his brother, brought before Han Taemun and subjected him to brutal torture, all to find the location of the Ten-Thousand-Year Ginseng.
But the former Palace Lord, Han Taemun, said nothing of its location.
Vice Lord! No, Ilsang! Please, listen to me. You are being manipulated by that wicked man. He is goading you to find the Ten-Thousand-Year Ginseng! He must have some other ulterior motive, I tell you!
He only spouted such useless nonsense.
Han Ilsang let out a hollow laugh and shook his head.
There's a limit to the nonsense you can spew. Tsk. You still don't understand how the world works.
Seeing Han Ilsang click his tongue at him, Han Taemun lowered his head, his eyes filled with despair.
And so, a day at the North Sea Ice Palace drew to a close under a gloomy, dark cloud.
Senior Brother Yeogon.
What is it?
I'm so glad we came to the North Sea.
Sangtak, who addressed Yeogon as Senior Brother, smiled contentedly as he looked at his own arms. His arms were turning a sickly blue, and the deeper the color, the greater his progress, so he couldn't help but feel pleased.
How did you know?
I was lucky. It was a stroke of fortune that I learned of the Frostflower Herb that comes from the North Sea.
It was a godsend. To realize that something in the North Sea could heighten the mastery of their martial arts.
The Taoist Qingcheng Sect receives a kind of tribute from the merchant guilds and security escorts within its direct and indirect sphere of influence. In return, the Taoists of Qingcheng personally descend to resolve issues, from minor squabbles to serious disputes, thus providing for their own needs.
During this time, Yeogon, who had caused trouble and tarnished the sect's name, was treated as an outcast. Moreover, having fallen out of favor with the Sect Leader, Yeogon was forced into seclusion for a long time.
How dare they lock me, the strongest master in Qingcheng, in here!
Unable to bear it any longer, Yeogon escaped and, by chance, arrived at a security escort agency where he discovered it: the Frostflower Herb, said to grow only in the North Sea.
Sensing not only the extreme cold energy within it but also a toxic energy that resonated with the internal energy of Qingcheng, Yeogon acted without hesitation. He brought only one person with him, his junior brother Sangtak.
You will be the first in the history of Qingcheng to achieve great mastery.
Congratulations, Senior Brother!
Gazing contentedly at his own arms, which had gone beyond sickly blue to a near-black hue, Yeogon felt the accomplishment of having reached the eleventh stage of his martial art. He had all but achieved great mastery. He then spoke softly to Sangtak.
Continue to cultivate yourself with the highest-grade Frostflower Herbs I've set aside. If you do, you too will soon reach the eighth stage.
Thank you, Senior Brother!
They had learned one of the forbidden martial arts of Qingcheng.
One of the most wicked martial arts of the Qingcheng Sect, it crushes the heart and infiltrates the internal organs, causing them to rupture.
The Sect Leader of Qingcheng had declared it a demonic art and strictly forbade its practice. Nevertheless, Yeogon defied the Sect Leader's command and mastered it anyway.
I will prove it. With this art, Qingcheng becoming the greatest power in the world will be more than just empty words!
To prove his point, he fought a duel with a Namgung swordsman who was considered one of the greatest masters of his time. In the end, he barely managed to escape with his life, but not before infusing the swordsman with the poison from his art.
Having displayed enough power to exchange a hundred blows with a top master of the Namgung Family even at the eighth stage of mastery, how could he not be greedy for more?
If we cannot perfect it in the North Sea, we can never return to the Central Plains.
Feeling a sense of responsibility, the Qingcheng Sect Leader had formed a pursuit team to hunt down Yeogon and his junior brother Sangtak for practicing the forbidden demonic art. Furthermore, a bounty had been placed on their heads throughout the Central Plains' martial world, leaving them trapped like rats. They had fled to the North Sea, dedicating their time solely to mastering the art they had learned.
I will definitely achieve great mastery.
Good. And so.
Yeogons eyes flashed.
The Ten-Thousand-Year Ginseng.
Senior Brother?
We must claim the Ten-Thousand-Year Ginseng.
What? What do you mean?
The Frostflower Herb was enough to achieve great mastery if they took their time. Why would they covet the Ten-Thousand-Year Ginseng as well?
You fool. Do you still not understand? This art is directly linked to the energy of extreme cold. The stronger the cold energy, the more its power will rise without limit. Once we achieve great mastery, if we have a continuous supply of extreme cold energy, those fools from the Central Plains will fall helplessly before our poison and cold.
Yeogon was confident.
Confident in the level of mastery he would reach after consuming the Ten-Thousand-Year Ginseng, and in the power he would wield.
He was also confident that if he were to meet the Namgung swordsman who had defeated him and driven him here again, he would surely win.
To do that, he had to find the Ten-Thousand-Year Ginseng.
He had to.
Ughhhh.
A groan escaped the lips of the man imprisoned in the Ice Dungeon, a frozen prison built to hold the most heinous criminals in the extreme cold.
Han Taemun, once the master and lord of the North Sea Ice Palace, now reduced to the former Palace Lord, circulated the small amount of internal energy he could gather to loosen his frozen muscles and preserve his warmth.
His arms and legs still wouldn't move.
It was likely due to these shackles binding his limbs.
Knowing the weight and thickness of the Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron that held him completely immobile, Han Taemun shook his head once and then turned it.
There, sprawled in a state even more wretched than his own, was another man.
It was none other than his son, Han Yusang. He was still unconscious, likely from the severe torture. Seeing Han Yusang's bluish lips and the dark circles under his eyes, Han Taemun bit his own lip. It seemed they had made him ingest an excessive amount of the Frostflower Herb.
Soon, Han Yusang would no longer be able to function as a human being. He bit his lower lip and lamented. The situation was utterly unbelievable.
Before he could even accept reality, he could see no glimmer of hope. In a unique place like the North Sea, who would ever come looking for them, let alone reach this place?
Trapped under the name of beyond the borders.
He regretted the arrogance that had made him look nowhere else.
If only he could go back, he would never again live like a frog in a well.
As he lamented and regretted, mocking himself.
Just at that moment, when he believed there was not a shred of hope left.
Was it a rebellion?
It certainly looks that way.
As if in a dream, he heard two voices. Here, in the Ice Dungeon.
At first, Han Taemun thought he was hearing things and smiled self-deprecatingly, but then.
This must be the old monster they were talking about.
Your words are so crude.
I was only repeating what they called him.
The voices, now so close, could not be an illusion. Han Taemun barely managed to lift his head and stared at the shadows outside the bars, a look of disbelief on his face.
This is wretched.
I dont think even the Asura Corps treated bandits this badly.
The North Sea is a harsh place, indeed.
As he faced the two men who were clicking their tongues, Han Taemuns eyes
For the first time, life sparked in his cloudy eyes, which had been filled with despair.
Then, not wanting to let go of this single ray of hope, Han Taemun spoke with desperation he didn't know he had.
Y-You must flee. Flee now and please, come back later.
Come back later, you say?
Cough, cough. Y-Yes. You must not be here when that Taoist bastard returns. You must escape!
Taoist bastard? There's a Taoist here?
The young man looked at Han Taemun with a surprised expression.
He said he was from the Qingcheng Sect of the Central Plains.
Qingcheng? You mean the Qingcheng of the Nine Sects One Union? Why would that name
The young man frowned, his expression one of disbelief, but Han Taemun insisted it was true, describing the Taoists appearance and robes. Then, the middle-aged man standing next to the youth spoke slowly, as if a thought had struck him.
Let me ask one thing. What did the Taoist's arms look like?
They were a deathly blue, almost black, as if they were dead. There was no trace of blood in them.
At those words, the middle-aged mans expression hardened.
It's him.
Something in his voice suggested he knew who it was.
Him?
When the young man questioned him, the middle-aged man spoke in a low voice.
The man from Qingcheng, Yeogon. The one who ambushed your master and First Elder, Namgung Yeoul, and poisoned him.
The worst of martial arts, its practitioners arms turning black as proof, an art forbidden even in the orthodox martial world and branded as demonic.
The Heart-Crushing Palm.
He is the one who mastered it, he said. Though Han Taemun could not understand the words, one thing was certain. The two men's eyes blazed, radiating a piercing light. It was clear that they now shared a common enemy with him.