Chapter 127
Chapter 127
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 127
Chapter Title: Demonic Cult
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Dang Mujin followed Chain Soul Old Man and Three-Eyed Buddha toward the base of the mountain. Contrary to his imagination of a place teeming with vicious criminals who had gathered after committing grave sins, what unfolded before him was the sight of an ordinary city.
"It's a bit different from what I expected."
"Everyone who comes here for the first time says the same thing."
Dang Mujin glanced around curiously. Nine out of ten people seemed perfectly ordinary, but there were aspects that set it apart from other cities.
The most striking difference was the far freer and more vibrant atmosphere compared to a typical city. Perhaps it was because so many here despised being bound by anything and couldn't endure rules.
There were also a higher proportion of burly, strong-looking folks or people walking with the gait of martial artists.
As Dang Mujin, Chain Soul Old Man, and Three-Eyed Buddha walked side by side, every person on the street turned to stare at the trio.
To be precise, the gazes were directed at Three-Eyed Buddha. He possessed every element that drew people's eyes: his massive build, fierce appearance, and renowned reputation.
The stares shifted from Three-Eyed Buddha and Chain Soul Old Man before settling on Dang Mujin.
They seemed curious about why a young man like him was accompanying such famed experts. Of course, no one was bold enough to approach and ask directly.
Chain Soul Old Man spoke to Three-Eyed Buddha.
"It's been ages since I've wandered only outside the cult grounds, so it's nice to be back."
"No one's stopping you from coming in. Why not visit more often?"
"My duty keeps me outside, which is the proper way to fulfill my role. Anyway, since I'm here, I might as well go pay a visit to the Cult Leader."
"Go ahead."
Chain Soul Old Man gave Dang Mujin a light nod as well, then vanished toward somewhere in the village.
Dang Mujin asked Three-Eyed Buddha,
"The Cult Leader—isn't that the highest position in the Demonic Cult?"
"That's right."
"Yet he lives mingled among the others?"
"It's his nature to be unpretentious. And right now, he can't return to the Cult Leader's Hall."
"What's the reason?"
"That's exactly why I called you here."
Three-Eyed Buddha strode ahead briskly, and Dang Mujin hurried along behind him with quick steps.
The direction Three-Eyed Buddha was heading led out of the village and up the slopes of Heavenly Mountain. A wide, well-maintained path was laid along the hillside, yet not a single person passed by.
"There's a road, but no people. That's strange."
"It used to be bustling. Most folks who held any position in the Demonic Cult, big or small, lived up there."
Three-Eyed Buddha halted and spoke.
"Do you sense anything?"
Dang Mujin looked around. Nothing special caught his eye—just forest and path.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The scent of trees and grass unique to places near mountains, along with crisp air.
But Three-Eyed Buddha wouldn't have asked for such a simple reason. Dang Mujin focused his senses again.
He detected a faint strand of poison qi in his lungs. It wasn't lethal to healthy adults or martial artists—only the elderly or sick might suffer.
But Dang Mujin's expression grew serious. He couldn't pinpoint the source of the poison.
It was spreading through the air, not water or soil—something impossible without an unimaginably potent toxin or an enormous quantity.
"There's poison in the air."
As Dang Mujin murmured, Three-Eyed Buddha looked surprised.
"I half-jokingly thought you might, but to sense it from this distance?"
"...You didn't think I could?"
"It was half in jest. For a first-rate, your senses are remarkably sharp."
The phrasing grated oddly on his ears. As Dang Mujin made a sour face, Three-Eyed Buddha asked again.
"Can you tell what kind of poison it is?"
Dang Mujin inhaled once more to gauge its effects.
Unfamiliar. But uniquely distinctive, impossible to confuse with others.
"It's a poison I've never felt before. But it's extremely strange."
"How so?"
"Poisons typically seep into bones, flesh, and organs. This one does too. But it doesn't stop there."
Dang Mujin continued murmuring.
"Like smoke from incense blending with the air, this poison seeks to mix with internal energy. It seems to want to block meridians or scatter one's qi. It's too faint to be sure yet."
"You can sense even that? Impressive..."
Dang Mujin sensed tremendous potential in this poison.
Martial artists could circulate internal energy to halt its spread.
Advanced poison users like the Poison Fiend might gather it and extract it through incisions, while experts like Three-Eyed Buddha could expel it in a clump.
But this poison mingled with internal energy. To drive it out, you'd need to circulate qi—but if the qi was tainted, how? A devilishly tricky poison, with no guaranteed countermeasure.
'To think such a poison exists.'
In Dang Mujin's mind, the rewards proposed by Three-Eyed Buddha and Chain Soul Old Man blurred. This poison might be the greatest prize the Demonic Cult could offer.
'Had I possessed this during my last fight with Three-Eyed Buddha, the outcome might have been different.'
At that thought, he felt Three-Eyed Buddha's piercing gaze, as if reading his mind.
Dang Mujin hurriedly changed the subject.
"By the way, where's this poison coming from?"
"I'll show you. Follow me."
Three-Eyed Buddha walked about fifteen minutes with Dang Mujin before stopping.
"Hold your breath."
Dang Mujin took a deep breath, and Three-Eyed Buddha scooped him up and tucked him under his arm.
Then, like the wind, Three-Eyed Buddha dashed along the path.
At the road's end, the view opened wide, revealing dozens of grand halls. No one passed by. That very emptiness accentuated their majesty.
'Is this the Demonic Cult's headquarters?'
Three-Eyed Buddha pointed to the largest, tallest building.
"Look there."
A plaque reading [Cult Leader's Hall] hung on the building Three-Eyed Buddha indicated. And atop its high roof perched a massive bird.
'What is that?'
Though seeing one in the flesh for the first time, Dang Mujin knew its name.
Master Ma's Illustrated Poison Compendium included a few hand-drawn pictures, one of which was this bird—man-sized, with deep purple feathers. The Zhen bird.
The Zhen bird was said to harbor deadly poison from a diet of toxic substances, unlike other birds. Legends claimed fields withered below it in flight.
Still carrying Dang Mujin under his arm, Three-Eyed Buddha turned back and returned to their original spot.
Only then did he gasp for air, huffing heavily. He hadn't breathed the whole time? As expected of an expert—his lung capacity was immense.
Dang Mujin asked,
"That bird you just showed me—isn't it a Zhen bird?"
"Correct. You know of it?"
Dang Mujin nearly said, 'I saw it in Master Ma's Illustrated Poison Compendium,' but caught himself. That could cost him his head. He deflected vaguely.
"Yes. I happened to learn of it."
"Wider knowledge than you appear. Makes talking easier. Not long after Master Ma died, that thing claimed the Cult Leader's Hall roof. We need to drive it off, but can't. Hard to approach, and if you push through the poison qi, it notices and flees swiftly."
"Hmm."
"Of the things I want to ask of you, the most important and urgent is driving off that Zhen bird."
The problem was Dang Mujin had no idea how. The compendium only detailed the bird's poison properties and uses—no eviction methods.
As Dang Mujin looked stumped, Three-Eyed Buddha clapped his broad hand on the young man's back encouragingly.
"Don't worry. You're not alone. There's a child who studied under Master Ma's poison arts. Team up and find a solution."
Three-Eyed Buddha led Dang Mujin to a small cave. It was short and sloped slightly downward. Far enough from the halls claimed by the Zhen bird that no poison qi seeped in.
At the cave's end stood a wooden door dividing inside from out, inscribed with "Poison Acupoint." A straightforward name.
"Do your best. Come find me if you need help."
With that, Three-Eyed Buddha hunched over and left, as if his duty was done.
Dang Mujin pondered briefly, then opened the door.
Creak—
The rusty hinges screeched loudly, and the woman inside turned to look at him.
She appeared about Dang Mujin's age or a couple years older. Her skin was strikingly pale, her features finely drawn.
Raising one eyebrow, she said,
"What?"
"Three-Eyed Buddha told me to come here."
She stared blankly at Dang Mujin, then abruptly turned away and resumed her work.
'...What?'
On the way to the Demonic Cult, Dang Mujin had imagined Master Ma's laboratory many times.
In his vision, a spacious hall filled with Master Ma's numerous disciples, eagerly questioning him.
Reality was the opposite. No hall, no disciples, just one question: "What?"
Dang Mujin sat in a corner, thinking.
'Is she in a rush? She'll introduce herself soon enough.'
He waited patiently, observing the interior and her back.
But nearly half an hour passed with no reaction from her. She seemed to have forgotten he existed.
"Um, need any help?"
Finally, Dang Mujin spoke up. Whatever it took, he needed to finish quickly to go home.
No response. Though not here by choice, was this any way to treat someone come to help?
Whatever, Dang Mujin thought, leaning against the wall and dozing off.
After all that travel without rest, drowsiness was natural.
How long had he slept? A loud crash woke him.
Crash!
Dang Mujin looked up.
A porcelain vessel lay shattered on the floor, its contents—a transparent green liquid—puddled on the stone. Unlike wood or dirt, the cave floor prevented absorption.
A faint, acrid poison scent wafted.
The nameless woman, face full of irritation, donned leather gloves, grabbed a clump of white goat wool, squatted, and muttered,
"Damn... That was the last bottle."
As she moved the wool toward the liquid, Dang Mujin spoke.
"What are you doing?"
She seemed about to ignore him, but grumbled a reply.
"I'm pissed enough already. Don't make me talk."
"You're the one ignoring a guy who traveled far. Can't you at least explain?"
"I'm busy. Need to hurry to salvage even a drop more."
"...You're not planning to soak it up with that wool, are you?"
"Yeah. Squeezing it again might yield a few drops."
Dang Mujin hurried over in alarm, nudging her aside.
She reflexively shifted, and without hesitation, he dipped his right index finger into the green poison. Her eyes widened in horror.
"Hey! Do you even know what that is? Pull your hand out now!"
But the pooled poison began seeping into his fingertip. Watching, her voice trailed off to silence.
"You'll get poisoned..."
In a blink, the puddle vanished without trace. Dang Mujin glanced sideways. To think she'd panic at this, despite handling poisons. Apparently no poison resistance.
He found it amusing, then realized: aside from the Poison Fiend, he'd never met or heard of anyone with poison immunity. It might not be as common as he thought.
Without showing it, he said flatly,
"You freaked out like it was something special, but it's just spotted cat poison? Impressive you've gathered this much—hard to get even a drop from a hundred kills."
He poked Master Ma's disciple and beckoned.
"Bring a clean bowl."
Overawed by his confidence, Master Ma's disciple fetched a clean porcelain bowl.
Dang Mujin held his fingertip over it, and transparent green drops fell.
Some had splashed unavoidably, but nearly all the floor poison returned to the bowl.
Master Ma's disciple stared blankly.
Grinning at her expression, Dang Mujin said,
"Well? Think I can be of help?"