The Qi Arts Master Chapter 68
Apart from the sweltering humidity of Namrim's dense jungle, the journey had been remarkably easy. The beast tribes who commanded insects and those who handled rodents took the lead in clearing the path, sparing everyone the hassle of dealing with venomous bugs. And since every member had mastered martial arts, their marching speed was phenomenal—they crossed the vast Namrim in just three days.
"This is the Poison Mist Zone."
Tian Ailang sensed it the moment they emerged from Namrim, no explanation needed. A boundary of lifeless earth poisoned to death stretched before them, giving way to a dank, shadowy forest. Even in the early morning sun, a thick, sight-obscuring fog hung in the air—the same mist laced with mountain-void poison that Dang Jeong-a had described.
He turned to look at the beast tribesmen. The usually boisterous and fearless warriors stared ahead in tense silence. Tian Ailang glanced at Maeng Geon. He wasn't so much tense as lost in some new realization. Then he checked on Dang Jeong-a. Her hand fidgeted with her hidden weapons from nerves, but her eyes gleamed with the fascination of someone beholding a thrilling curiosity. He recalled how, even while traversing Namrim's woods, she'd squealed with delight over rare toxic herbs like a girl unwrapping gifts.
Tian Ailang shook his head. The Tang Clan mindset was utterly incomprehensible.
The Dang Clan Twelve still hadn't returned. He paid it no mind. With the Hwaryongdan pill to save Sogeori so close, he had no desire to waste energy on distractions. He only hoped they wouldn't interfere with acquiring it. If they didn't, he'd let his lingering suspicions slide.
During the journey, he'd pieced together why the unorthodox clans had picked fights so frequently. On the day the Wa pirates appeared, just before their assault, the Dang Clan Twelve had slipped away to "scout the surroundings." Yet when the pirates attacked, Tian Ailang had sensed their presence from the opposite side—subtle enough to miss if he hadn't been alert. They'd hidden and watched until every pirate was dead.
Suspicious, he'd kept a close eye afterward, but they hadn't strayed again. Still, the unorthodox fighters swarmed him like moths to a flame, ambushing at chokepoints as if they knew his route. He had his suspicions but no proof, so he'd held his tongue. He was convinced the Dang Clan Twelve were involved.
Fine. As long as they don't get in the way.
Tian Ailang set aside thoughts of the Dang Clan Twelve and addressed Maeng Geon. "Alright! Let's go!"
Maeng Geon burst into booming laughter at Tian Ailang's spirited command. "Hahaha! That's the spirit! Let's charge in like men!"
GRRRRAAAH!
Maeng Geon's tiger roared in response, and the other beasts echoed it, raising a fearsome clamor. The beast tribesmen mimicked their bonded animals in a ritual cry, igniting their resolve. And so, the group plunged into the Poison Mist Zone to hunt the Palgaeksa.
The first sensation upon entering was stickiness. Unlike ordinary fog that dispersed lightly, this mist clung viscously to every breath. That density shrouded vision even more than usual.
As trained, Tian Ailang expelled the faint mountain-void poison the instant he sensed it and pressed on. The beast tribesmen, hardened by external martial arts and poison resistance, advanced with little discomfort. But as they delved deeper and visibility shrank further, they held their breath in mounting tension.
Maeng Geon scowled, scanning the surroundings. The excessively thick fog grated on his nerves. "The mist seems way denser than before."
"They said the balance of life has collapsed. Could that be related?"
Maeng Geon tilted his head at Tian Ailang's words. "Probably... but this makes us sitting ducks for ambushes... Watch out!"
SHHHIIIP—
KRAAACK!
It happened in a flash. A massive pillar-like form shot from the fog at blinding speed, smashing three beast tribesmen to instant death.
"Palgaeksa! Battle stations, everyone!"
Maeng Geon bellowed urgently, dropping into a combat stance.
SHHHIIIP—
"Haaah!"
Maeng Geon body-slammed a Palgaeksa lunging from the dense fog at another tribesman.
BOOM!
The colliding Palgaeksa body flew back into the mist and vanished. In the brief lull, Maeng Geon surveyed the area. His tribesmen trembled finely, gripped by fear of the Palgaeksa.
"Snap out of it, you whelps! Evade! Don't block—dodge no matter what! Got it?!"
His rough shout shook them awake, and they began muttering in unison. Their eyes—and those of their bonded beasts—glowed blue. They darted sideways in unison.
SHHHIIIP—
Another headbutting strike from the fog missed entirely this time; every tribesman evaded flawlessly.
Maeng Geon approached Tian Ailang, observing his men. "They're borrowing their beasts' senses. And the weakened Palgaeksa seems to target the frailer-looking ones first."
"Looks that way. Better clear this fog before casualties mount."
As Tian Ailang steadied his stance, Maeng Geon narrowed his eyes. "You can really do that?"
"I've only practiced; first time in real combat, so no clue how effective it'll be. But we have no choice—gotta try."
A fierce wind stirred around Tian Ailang as he spoke.
WHOOOOSH—
He was forcibly gathering and redirecting the wind's threads. Previously, he'd harnessed natural flows for amplified effects; now, he bent nature itself to force a gale.
Threads of wind converged before him, piling up.
PIEEEE—
The clashing winds shrieked like flutes.
"Step back further."
Maeng Geon and Dang Jeong-a, guarding him, hurriedly widened the gap. Without pause, Tian Ailang unleashed his inner energy into the dozen gathered threads ahead.
FWOOOMPH!
"Gah!"
The evading beast tribesmen tumbled in shock from the blast. They watched in awe as fog cleared from a space at least fifteen meters wide. There stood a massive Palgaeksa, staring blankly.
Maeng Geon laughed in disbelief. "Hahaha! You're insane! Actually pulling that off..."
Tian Ailang regulated his breathing. "I've infused the air threads at the cleared boundary with natural qi like a formation array to keep the fog from refilling—but it won't last long."
"Don't get it, but we've got visibility! Time to work! Do whatever you want. Hahaha! Let's go, lads!"
Maeng Geon's tiger bounded to his side mid-sprint. He vaulted onto its back and charged ahead, warriors following on bears and wolves.
SHHHIP!
The Palgaeksa whipped its tail horizontally at the approaching tribesmen. They evaded in sync. Bear- and wolf-riders leaped effortlessly over the tail, then struck its blind spots at high speed.
THUD!
A massive bear swiped with claws, its rider mimicking with iron-hard fists honed by supreme external arts.
CRUNCH!
The blows gouged its hide but drew no blood. Wolf-riders struck too, to no avail. The Palgaeksa's gaze snapped to its attackers.
Then hundreds of tiny flies buzzed in, assaulting its eyes. Tough eyeballs took no damage, but the swarm blocked its vision, irritating it into thrashing.
Birds of prey circled overhead, pecking at head and eyes whenever an opening appeared. No real harm done.
Seizing the moment, Maeng Geon scaled its body to its head and smashed down on the crown.
The pinnacle beast art: Maeng Ho Gyeok Gwon—Fierce Tiger Strike Fist.
BOOM!
The brain-rattling impact made the Palgaeksa rear back roaring.
SKREEEE!
"Now!"
Tian Ailang, poised and waiting, leaped to the height of its gaping maw and thrust his hand. Hundreds of crimson butterflies streamed in at his gesture.
Hwajeokdan—Fire Butterfly Bombs. Bombs of inner energy, conjured through exquisite control. Unlike explosive collisions like the Frenzy Pill, these detonated on a delay.
Fire energy, like thunder qi, was notoriously hard to wield. But mastered, it devastated fire-weak foes—and shone in outnumbered battles like war.
The Palgaeksa boasted immense defenses, but not internally. Tian Ailang had leveraged the zone's sweltering heat for fire qi, thanks to Maeng Geon and the tribesmen creating the opening.
The beast snapped its jaws shut in panic at the sudden blaze.
GRRRUMBLE!
A chain of brutal explosions ripped through its innards, drawing agonized shrieks.
SKREEEE!
"Evade!"
The thrashing Palgaeksa was a weapon in itself. Maeng Geon urgently herded his tribesmen away, but some couldn't escape fully and collapsed vomiting blood.
"Damn it!"
Maeng Geon veered toward the fallen, scooping them up just as the tail whipped in—taking the full hit himself and hurtling through the air.
SMACK!
"Urk!"
CRASH!
He saved his kin but tumbled hard. Springing up, he stared incredulously at his limp left arm—dislocated and shattered. A transcendent external arts master like him, felled by one direct strike.
"Damn it!"
Grinding his teeth, Maeng Geon gripped his arm and wrenched it back into place.
CRACK!
"Gah!"
With the bone reset forcibly, he eyed the dangling limb. No quick fix for now. Dang Jeong-a rushed over, tearing her wind-riding robes into strips to splint it.
He flinched at her touch but held still, watching. After swift first aid, he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Thanks."
Dang Jeong-a accepted his gratitude flatly. "The Palgaeksa's horns are starting to glow. Get your tribesmen back."
As she said, the Palgaeksa had halted, light emanating from its horns—all eight of them—growing ever brighter. A desperate counter to mortal peril.
She dashed to Tian Ailang with lightness skill. "Young Master Tian. You're really going through with that plan?"
Tian Ailang met her gaze, then glanced at the wounded Maeng Geon urgently evacuating his people. Back to her, he said, "Can you make it work?"
Understanding his resolve, Dang Jeong-a nodded firmly. "Yes. Please come back alive."
Tian Ailang smirked. "You too."