Chapter 15: Unsightly Tiger Bait
Chapter 15: Unsightly Tiger Bait
The vast expanse of the Hundred Thousand Mountains unfurled in winding peaks, visible at a glance from the grand hall of the mansion. A servant bowed deeply before the elderly man standing rigidly there.
"Patriarch, Young Master Yong Baekheon has declined the invitation. He says he's too busy with the handover of the Young Cult Leader position and preparations for the Great Tournament to accept."
"The young master is busy?"
The old man chewed over the words, then twisted his lips into a sneer.
"How amusing. Since when did that wastrel manage his time so meticulously?"
Dokgo Yung, patriarch of the Dokgo Clan Manor. His eyes flashed as if he could spot Yong Baekheon amid the distant landscape below.
I thought the meal was all but served, but that bastard stuck his nose in at the last moment. Or should I say he kicked over his own table, splashing water on all those eyeing it?
The Dokgo Clan had been undermining Yong Baekheon from the shadows, plotting to shatter his foundation. Countless schemes, too many to recount individually—all aimed at seizing the Young Cult Leader seat.
And overnight, it all went up in smoke.
Yong Baekheon had voluntarily relinquished the position himself.
When the man you were dragging down jumped off on his own, it was no different from pointless exertion.
Dokgo Yung, in particular, felt a profound dilemma.
—Grandfather, since Yong Seryeong became Young Cult Leader, I want to serve as a junior elder too.
A sudden interloper had appeared out of nowhere.
His granddaughter Dokgo Hye, whom he loved so dearly he wouldn't mind poking her eyes out.
—Hye! How could you even think of entering the Cult Leader's Palace!
—Bok Sorin and Dongbang Jayun are helping the Young Cult Leader too. Our clan can't sit this out, right? I'm moving to the Young Cult Leader's Palace starting tomorrow.
—I said no!
—It's my life!
A sigh escaped him unbidden. Against such an unforeseen ambush, victory was impossible.
The Cult Leader's Palace was as good as the Yong family's inner sanctum, so sending her there was tantamount to handing over a prisoner.
I just can't make sense of it.
Recent intelligence suggested Yong Baekheon was increasingly consumed by demonic possession, his actions growing irrational. Yet suddenly, he was behaving like a different person. On a broader scale, his entire demeanor had shifted.
Thus, Dokgo Yung harbored suspicions.
Could it be that body double he used to wield?
The fact that the man hadn't even shown his face made it all the more suspicious. But he'd overwhelmingly crushed Yong Changheon. And he'd passed unscathed before Blade King Cheoksan and the elders of the Cult Leader's Palace.
As patriarch of an affiliated clan, he couldn't openly question Yong Baekheon's identity.
For now, I need to intervene in the Grand Cult Leader's selection of challengers. Though if I can eliminate him first, even better.
Dokgo Yung rubbed his furrowed brow, lost in thought. Then he took up a brush, penned a letter, and handed it to the servant to deliver.
Its contents read:
"Sharpen a dagger to plunge into Yong Baekheon. This matter could elevate our clan to the preeminent house of the demonic path—give it your all."
The recipient was named Dokgo Jae. Hailed as the greatest prodigy among the eight great affiliated clans, he was now a transcendent master leading the Black Snake Squad, the cult's elite strike force.
"A dagger, huh..."
In his study, the middle-aged man who received his father's letter sprang into action. He took a sharp dagger, sliced a small cut into his own forearm, and began squeezing out drops of blood.
* * *
I carefully shaped the rabbit roast and laid it on a broad stone slab. Then I gathered dry twigs nearby and lit a fire with my fire starter.
Before the pale smoke rising to the sky, I clasped my hands and offered a silent prayer.
[What are you doing?]
"Can't you tell? Paying respects."
[Why? This isn't a grave.]
"Not a grave, but I'm disturbing traces of the ancient one, so a bit of courtesy is in order."
[Or are you hoping, like when you exploded The Chronicles of the Sealed Demon, that a burnt offering might drop some scraps from the heavens?]
"That's why sharp ghosts are such a pain..."
I used a grease-soaked skewer as a torch and ventured into the burrow. Hidden behind foliage, the modest cave was remarkably intact. Cozy enough that mountain beasts might have fought over it as a den—yet no signs of such struggle.
[The poison master's lingering aura deters them. Especially since Ghost Heaven Demon Gye Sail buried his personally crafted deadly toxins here, faint poison qi still permeates the place.]
"Huh? Isn't that dangerous for me too? Safe to go in?"
[For a short while, yes. You're not planning to hibernate in there, are you?]
The cave admitted scant light. Wooden furnishings, battered by time, lay crumbled about.
I pressed to the deepest recess. Then Bongmareung spoke up abruptly.
[Dig up the floor here. The earth is soft—your hands will suffice. Be gentle so you don't shatter what's below.]
"Got it."
I set down the torch and began scooping. True to his word, the soil yielded easily, my hands sinking in without effort.
What I unearthed was a small vial sloshing with something.
"This it?"
[Yes. Morning Cherry Poison.]
Morning Cherry Poison. Extracted from dawn cherries.
I tilted my head, vial in hand.
"Heard cherry pits have poison, but isn't it just stomach upset? Worth making into a separate toxin?"
[Morning Cherry Poison is no ordinary cherry poison. Made from a unique strain grown only in the Hundred Thousand Mountains—pounded whole under dawn moonlight, dried, refined, repeated. Takes a year per vial on average.]
"Whoa, that's a haul. Must have some special power."
Bongmareung explained in detail.
[Three drops kill anything. Two paralyze the body. One drop? Utterly undetectable. A deadly poison, yet perfectly odorless and tasteless.]
"I see. No smell, no taste, one drop harmless..."
This was prime stuff. I wasn't a poison expert, but from back-alley savvy, Morning Cherry Poison rated top-tier.
Most deadly poisons reeked horribly and kicked in from a single drop. But if it was tasteless, odorless, and could delay effects like this?
"Perfect trump card for an assassin. From the poisoner's side, anyway."
[Indeed. But today, you're not plotting murder—you're using poison to cultivate qi. And remember: three drops paralyze and kill.]
"Mm."
I nodded, lips pursed.
Bongmareung's voice held worry.
[Today, you absorb those three drops with the Great Revival Pill and survive. That completes the seed for Extreme Heaven Nine-Ring Art.]
The method to plant the qi seed in my lower dantian.
[Two outcomes: agonizing death, or ascension to peak demonic transcendence as desired. It all hinges on you...]
* * *
Back at my spot, the sun dipped low. I sat cross-legged, gazing quietly at the vial.
Bongmareung had fallen silent earlier.
Three drops of Morning Cherry Poison mean instant death. But I must drink them and live.
In this seemingly contradictory bind, Bongmareung's path was:
[We'll space them an hour apart. Drink the first drop, wait an hour, then the second. You'll manage one arm by then.]
Ingest drops timed to let the body neutralize the poison incrementally.
[After another hour, the third. Your body will enter suspended animation, but mind lingers hazy. Start circulating qi then. Suck the Great Revival Pill under your tongue, dissolve gradually.]
The sole way to forge the Extreme Heaven Nine-Ring Art seed.
The demonic spirit advised gravely.
[It'll be utter madness in pain. Yet you won't scream or groan—pure hell. But your escape lies within yourself. Remember that.]
Escape within myself?
[Once the true qi seed forms, pure profound qi expels the poison. Great Revival Pill aids, but your life is yours alone.]
Those last words resonated.
Now, my fate rested in my hands—not that damned Young Cult Leader's.
That's progress enough, right?
I uncorked the vial, tilting it with utmost care. Dew-clear liquid beaded at the lip.
I caught one drop on a clean leaf, slipped it into my mouth.
"......"
Perfectly tasteless, odorless—as Bongmareung said. Hard to believe this was monstrous poison; no sensation at all.
I'll find out soon enough.
I eyed the setting sun, gauging the vague hour.
No need for precision.
[I'll tell you. Wait calmly.]
Bongmareung seemed more tense than me.
Soon, the second drop.
"......!"
A prickling from my toes, then sensation fled as if my body weren't mine. It happened in a flash.
"Legs already won't move."
[Expected. Follow with the third while your arm still works. Fingers might seize too.]
"Could be."
I tilted the vial again, catching the final drop on the leaf. Watched my body stiffen.
Undeniably terrifying.
"If, like this, I, can't, rise......"
[Tiger bait, then. Regrettably, sensation persists—you won't go easy.]
"Th-that's, rea, reassuring......"
Finally, the last drop.
"Hnnngh......"
As forewarned, whole body paralyzed save one arm. Trembling right hand bore the clear venom to my lips.
I shoved the Great Revival Pill under my tongue.
Instantly, memories flashed: back-alley camaraderie. Heavenly Demon Divine Cult fiends slaughtering them mercilessly, abducting me. Vowing revenge with new bonds in the mountains...
[It begins! Steady your mind!]
With Bongmareung's shout, I circulated Extreme Heaven Nine-Ring Art.
Astonishingly, the pure profound qi, once scattering futilely, surged differently.
True qi rampaging wildly?
Like tossing a catfish amid lazy pond crucians.
Meeting Morning Cherry Poison, pure profound qi thrashed uncontrollably, churning my innards.
Control this frenzy into one compressed seed?
[Fail and die! If you don't fancy the afterlife with me, focus!]
Poison swiftly eroded me. Limbs immobile baseline; eyelids rolled white, drool pooled at my mouth.
[What unsightly tiger bait you'll make!]
Damn it! Who's dying!
I gritted teeth, focusing circulation.
Couldn't end like this.
Let's see who wins! If qi goes berserk, I'll move faster!
[Yes! That's the spirit! Keep it up!]
I circulated relentlessly. Elixir dissolving under tongue fueled the effort.
I can do this. Must...
Sun fully set. Cosmic stars drifted lazily overhead. Time enough for half-moon rise and fall.
"Ptoo-hoooh!"
I spewed a mouthful of black necrotic blood-clot, toppling back.
Vision spun, but I lived—no inner wounds. Quite the opposite.
[Hahaha! Success! You expelled the poison with impurities! What a plucky rascal!]
Bongmareung crowed boisterously.
But gasping, I stared blankly, lost in thought.
[Hm? What's wrong?]
"It's just..."
Hard to articulate.
In the final moments purging Morning Cherry Poison, dreamlike old memories surfaced hazily.
Back-alley bloodbath. Bound, dragged to Hundred Thousand Mountains. Terror-buried horrors resurfaced chaotically.
—Find the target!
—A boy identical to the Young Cult Leader!
—Slaughter the rest!
Amid the nightmare, one odd name.
Among the masked fiends who razed the alleys, a hulking brute bellowed:
—Yong Jeongheon! Where is Yong Jeongheon!
That roaring voice, long buried in memory's depths, now emerged.
I checked the Extreme Heaven Nine-Ring Art seed belatedly, mulling the name.
"Yong Jeongheon..."
An oddly disconcerting name.
And I realized, startled, tears streamed unknowingly down my face.