The Phantom's Heir (1)
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The greatest poison clan under the heavens, the Sichuan Tang Clan.
A prestigious family with a hundred-year legacy, and one of the names that struck the most fear into the hearts of martial artists across the world.
Their poison arts and hidden weapon techniques were so cruel and intricate that nothing else in the world could compare.
Even the fragrant flowers in their gardens harbored deadly toxins, and within the opulent pavilions and courtyards, countless poisons and secret formulas were researched in secrecy.
Because they possessed so many esoteric techniques, they were considered the most closed-off family in the entire murim.
Not only outsiders, but even members of the clan itself were restricted to moving only within designated areas.
And yet, the Sichuan Tang Clan had thrown its main gates wide open for the first time in a very long while.
Dokhwang, the Poison Emperor, Dang Cheon-woo.
An absolute master who proudly occupied one of the seven seats among the Seven Supremes.
This year marked his seventieth birthday.
To celebrate his seventieth, countless people from across the rivers and lakes had gathered.
Famous figures whose names alone commanded respect, along with high-ranking officials, all stood in line.
“It’s become far more splendid than when I last came.”
Thirty years ago, during his previous life, the Tang Clan had not held such high status.
Back then, the Tang Clan was not the pinnacle of poison arts.
The Dokma of the Poison Palace, one of the pillars of the Heavenly Demon Sect, had been far stronger.
That Dokma was…
“The one I killed with my own hands.”
The reasons the once-unrivaled Hwanma had met his end could be divided into three major factors.
The betrayal of the cult leader and his disciple.
The desperate struggle of Taeheo Singeom.
And the poison of Dokma.
In his rage, Hwanma had rampaged so fiercely that almost no one from the Poison Palace, including Dokma himself, had survived.
With the Poison Palace in decline, it seemed the Tang Clan had risen to become the supreme authority in poison arts.
“I was just a brat back then.”
Inside the carriage, Seomun Hwan’s eyes narrowed halfway as he gazed at the Tang Clan’s fortress through a gap in the curtains.
It had been right when the righteous-demonic war was just beginning.
About thirty-five years ago now?
A vivid scene from the past floated clearly in his mind.
A garden stained with blood. Crumbled walls. Corpses strewn everywhere.
In the middle of that carnage, a young man leaned against a broken wall, glaring at Seomun Hwan—no, at Hwanma.
The man who would one day become known as the Poison Emperor, Dang Cheon-woo.
Back then, he had been a fierce, ambitious youth.
His eyes burned with blazing ambition, and in his arms he cradled his father’s corpse.
After a fierce battle, Dang Cheon-woo’s father—the previous previous clan head—had died at Hwanma’s hands.
He remembered the sight of Dang Cheon-woo fleeing with tears of blood streaming down his face.
‘He was quite the spirited one.’
Dang Cheon-woo’s eyes had been filled with vengeance, rage, and the madness of someone determined to one day overturn the entire board.
Like the final spark of a dying sect.
That spark had now grown into a towering volcano known as the Poison Emperor.
Seomun Hwan leaned against the carriage wall, stared at the ceiling, and let out a small chuckle.
“Truly, living long—or rather, living twice—lets you see all sorts of things.”
As they arrived at the Tang Clan, Deokheum began to nag.
“Young Master. We’ve reached the Tang Clan, so please come out. How long do you plan to stay inside the carriage?”
“Yawn!”
Only after Deokheum spoke did Seomun Hwan finally stir from his long reverie and step outside.
Before the main gate stood several Tang Clan warriors radiating formidable auras.
It was an important day with many outsiders coming and going, so their postures were sharp and alert.
As Seomun Hwan approached with the carriage, a middle-aged man with a rat-like mustache thrust his palm forward.
“Stop! Where does this cargo come from?!”
Even though the Seomun Clan’s banner was clearly visible, the man spoke with blatant disrespect.
While the Seomun Clan ran a fairly well-known merchant guild in Hubei, it naturally shrank before the Tang Clan, which held sway over the entire world.
When Seomun Hwan’s expression turned sour, Jo Gang-je quickly whispered in his ear.
“That is the Pursuer, Dang Gil-hwan. He is a Peak realm master and a master of hidden weapons.”
He certainly seemed a cut above the Mountain Leopard Ghost who had attacked the Baekri Clan.
Simply standing there, he exuded a pressure that seemed to crush the air around him.
For a Peak expert to be assigned as a mere gatekeeper.
Was it because gatekeepers represented the clan’s face? Or was this only for today?
Either way, Seomun Hwan had been lost in the sentiments of Hwanma, who had once burned this very clan to the ground.
A mere Peak expert held no interest for him.
But right now he was not Hwanma. He was Seomun Hwan, and not a demonic practitioner of the Heavenly Demon Sect, but the person in charge of a merchant guild.
Suppressing the surging memories of the past, he spoke politely.
“I am Seomun Hwan of the Seomun Clan’s merchant guild. We have come in response to a request from the Tang Clan.”
At Seomun Hwan’s courteous greeting, Dang Gil-hwan frowned.
His gaze swept over Seomun Hwan’s waist, fingertips, and overall presence.
When he sensed no significant qi, he snorted as if he had lost interest.
“The Seomun Clan, you say… Very well. The Seomun Clan’s merchant group will enter through the south gate. The main gate is reserved exclusively for honored guests and visitors.”
Though his words were polite, they clearly carried contempt.
“The south gate?”
The south gate required a long detour.
The distance that could be covered in moments through the main gate would take the cargo wagons at least two hours.
Dang Gil-hwan spoke in a cold voice.
“The Seomun Clan is here only to fulfill a commission. You were not invited.”
One of the surrounding warriors let out a mocking laugh. Jo Gang-je’s face flushed red as he said,
“W-we came together with the Baekri Clan. The Baekri Clan is on the guest list…”
“The Baekri are the Baekri. The Seomun are the Seomun.”
Just then, the Baekri Clan’s merchant group arrived behind them.
Upon confirming the Baekri Clan’s banner, Dang Gil-hwan allowed them inside without any inspection.
Through the main gate, no less.
As the Seomun merchant group made way, the Baekri group leisurely passed by.
Seomun Hwan’s eyes accidentally met those of Baekri Seonhwa inside her carriage. The clear mockery in her gaze was unmistakable.
In a surprisingly calm voice, Seomun Hwan said,
“…We’ll head to the south gate.”
Jo Gang-je and Deokheum, who had been fidgeting anxiously beside him, reluctantly obeyed.
“Turn the wagons around!”
Even as the Seomun Clan’s carriages struggled to turn, Dang Gil-hwan didn’t spare them a single glance.
As they headed toward the south gate, Seomun Hwan fell into thought for a moment.
No matter how weak his current internal energy was, a single Peak expert would be easy to ensnare with illusion magic.
With a mere snap of his fingers, he could have made the man step aside and even bow his head in apology.
So why had someone like him—who hated bothersome things more than anyone—chosen to take the long way around?
“Deokheum.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
Deokheum knew Seomun Hwan better than anyone.
Though he appeared unbothered on the surface, Deokheum sensed something was off and answered respectfully.
“Have my father and brothers always received this kind of treatment?”
Deokheum swallowed dryly before replying.
“The Seomun Clan operates as a merchant guild that deals with customers. It’s the same everywhere, not just with the Tang Clan.”
There was a great deal of meaning packed into those words.
No doubt they had endured far more humiliating incidents than this.
“I see. We’re just a powerless merchant guild.”
“…”
Seomun Hwan closed his mouth again, and those around him quietly followed the path in silence.
After circling around through the south gate, they finally arrived in front of the warehouse.
“Set the cargo down!”
The Tang Clan’s warehouse keeper was extremely strict.
He had every single one of the numerous crates the Seomun Clan had brought unpacked and inspected one by one.
Only after a long time had passed were they finally able to pass inspection.
“Is it over now?”
“Yes. You’ve worked hard, Young Master.”
When Deokheum spoke, Jo Gang-je also bowed and said,
“You have safely completed your first trade journey. Congratulations.”
“Congratulations? It’s not over until we return to the clan.”
“Will you depart immediately?”
“Of course. There’s nothing more for us to do here.”
Just as Dang Gil-hwan had said.
They were not invited guests. They had simply come to fulfill a commission.
The Poison Emperor’s seventieth birthday banquet was only just beginning, but they could not even participate.
As they were about to leave, Deokheum spoke with a troubled expression.
“Young Master… someone is coming this way.”
When he turned his head, he saw several young men and women approaching.
All of them wore luxurious silk robes that radiated noble elegance.
Among the group of two young men and two young women was a familiar face.
Baekri Seonhwa.
His former fiancée had come here with her acquaintances.
Deokheum said with a troubled look,
“Young Master, that group… appears to be acquaintances of Lady Baekri.”
“I have eyes too.”
Jo Gang-je hurriedly added,
“They are all renowned scions from various families. The man leading them is the Tang Clan’s second young master, Dang Mun-yeong. The woman beside him is the second daughter of the Zhongnan Sect’s sect leader. The one at the very back is the Namgung Clan’s third young master, Namgung Baek.”
Each name Jo Gang-je whispered carried significant weight.
The Namgung Clan, considered the greatest among the Five Great Noble Families.
The Zhongnan Sect, one of the Nine Sects and One Gang.
And the Tang Clan.
Each one was a figure capable of shaking the entire murim with their name alone.
The approaching group slowly walked toward them.
They were perfectly blocking the path Seomun Hwan had been about to take to leave.
In front of the Seomun Clan’s merchant wagons and porters, their silk robes shone even more brilliantly.
The most eye-catching one smiled and spoke first.
“To think we would meet by chance here. Could this be the young master of the Seomun Clan?”
The one who spoke was none other than Dang Mun-yeong.
A young man with sharp, handsome features and eyes full of confidence.
He was a leading candidate to become the next head of the Tang Clan.
At his words, the people around him chuckled lightly.
Their laughter contained open curiosity and shallow judgment.
Seomun Hwan offered a light greeting.
“It is an honor to meet the heroes of the murim. I am Seomun Hwan of the Seomun Clan.”
“Haha, so it really is you. Lady Seonhwa has mentioned you from time to time. She said you are always polite and quiet.”
Though his words were smooth, they carried a clear undertone.
That he was insignificant.
And Baekri Seonhwa, standing beside him, simply watched the scene with an expressionless face, saying nothing.
“Is that so? I didn’t realize Lady Seonhwa would speak so favorably of me. After all, I would never dare to judge her.”
At that, Dang Mun-yeong’s brows furrowed.
The answer had been far calmer and firmer than expected.
He had thought the man would shrink under the pressure, yet he hadn’t budged an inch.
Only then did Baekri Seonhwa step forward.
“Young Master Seomun, I heard you were about to depart.”
“Yes. Now that my task is complete, I must return.”
“The banquet hasn’t even begun yet. Still… isn’t this kind of opportunity precious? You might even get to meet such esteemed figures.”
Her words hid a sharp blade.
The implication was clear: if not now, when would someone like him ever get the chance to meet such people?
The surrounding young martial artists let out small laughs.
There was both mockery and pity in them.
Despite knowing everything, Seomun Hwan smiled brightly and answered.
“Unfortunately, I don’t have an invitation. An uninvited guest cannot intrude on a banquet.”
At those words, Dang Mun-yeong spoke as if he had been waiting.
“Haha! For such an excellent young master to lack an invitation—there must have been some mistake. It seems our side made an error due to the busy preparations. I will vouch for you, so please enjoy the banquet with us.”
On the surface, it was an extremely courteous invitation.
But behind it, there was clearly a vile ulterior motive.
It was probably…
‘So that’s why she was in such a hurry to break off the engagement.’
Dang Mun-yeong’s gaze toward Baekri Seonhwa was sticky with desire. Baekri Seonhwa was also clinging to him more than necessary.
It seemed the second young master found his former fiancée’s ex-fiancé an eyesore.
Having realized all of this, Seomun Hwan…
‘Good grief.’
Simply chuckled.
“Thank you. I don’t know how to respond to such kind consideration from the young master. In that case, I shall take a look around the illustrious Tang Clan.”
When Seomun Hwan accepted so readily, the others looked surprised.
The glances exchanged between them were filled with snake-like cunning.
‘Cute little things. In that case…’
Normally, he would have brushed off such cheap provocations with a laugh.
After all, no matter how famous these late-stage juniors were, they were still just immature brats.
But today, for some reason, he didn’t feel like letting it slide.
‘I’ll pamper them plenty, just as they wish.’