Chapter 140
Chapter 140
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 140
Chapter Title: Demonic Cult
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Martial artists were the type to draw their swords at the slightest brush of sleeves on the street.
Much less if someone dumped leftovers on their head—the outcome was obvious.
But unexpectedly, the Three-Eyed Monk pondered for a long while before letting out a deep sigh. He probably hadn't sighed that deeply even when fleeing Shaolin Temple.
The Three-Eyed Monk spoke to Namgung Myeong and Hong Geolgae.
"Forehead out."
At the abrupt remark, Hong Geolgae blankly asked back.
"...Pardon? My forehead?"
"Yeah. We'll take one hit each and call it even."
Fortunately, the Three-Eyed Monk had no intention of killing Namgung Myeong and Hong Geolgae. It seemed to be in consideration of the camaraderie between Dang Mujin and the two fools.
As they say, better to get flogged first—Hong Geolgae bravely thrust his forehead forward.
The Three-Eyed Monk pressed his thumb and middle finger together as if about to unleash Finger Force, then brought his hand to Hong Geolgae's forehead. It was clear what kind of strike was coming.
Seized by fear, Hong Geolgae unwittingly closed his eyes.
*Crack!*
With a crisp sound, Hong Geolgae's head snapped back.
Even without internal energy, it packed as much power as a decent martial technique. His massive build and brute strength made it possible.
"Ugh..."
Hong Geolgae staggered for a moment, rubbing his forehead as he regained his balance.
The center of Hong Geolgae's forehead turned bright red, and to make matters worse, a lump began to swell up. It looked just like the white curl adorning a Buddha statue's brow.
Dang Mujin teased.
"You've become a proper Buddhist under the Three-Eyed Monk's guidance, Elder. Looks great on you."
"He didn't sneak in a punch while my eyes were closed, did he?"
"If it had been a punch, you'd be dead."
Hong Geolgae squatted down, clutching his wobbling head.
A moment later, the crisp sound rang out again. *Crack!*
Namgung Myeong's forehead swelled up bright red too.
The slight difference was that Namgung Myeong had tried to dodge by tilting his head a bit and ended up taking an extra hit.
Only now did the Three-Eyed Monk seem relieved, his expression brightening as he surveyed the surroundings.
He could hear the murmurs of people who had escaped the infernal prison, gathering in small groups.
"My internal energy isn't flowing smoothly. Feels off."
"Probably the chickweed poison. It'll get better soon."
"I know that. The issue is whether we have the luxury to wait it out."
"What else can we do if we don't? Leaving now in this state is too risky."
"No. We should move as soon as possible, even if just a little."
The group stood at a crossroads, opinions split neatly in two.
Should they escape the valley, hide, expel the poison over half a day, then proceed slowly? Or move immediately without fully purging the poison?
Over forty pairs of eyes turned to the Three-Eyed Monk. Among martial artists, the strongest usually held decision-making power.
But instead of speaking up himself, the Three-Eyed Monk pointed at Dang Mujin. The gazes shifted to him.
Dang Mujin wasn't the second strongest, nor an experienced veteran of the jianghu.
Yet the group figured that if not the Three-Eyed Monk, then someone had to lead—and it might as well be Dang Mujin. After all, he was the one who got them out of the infernal prison, and he had the Three-Eyed Monk's endorsement.
Dang Mujin thought it over.
'With this many people escaped, staying hidden for half a day or more is impossible. Guards will come for shift change too. We need to get as far away as possible before they notice.'
Having sorted his thoughts, Dang Mujin spoke right away.
"Let's move out immediately."
The group set off without complaint. No one raised their voice claiming his decision was wrong.
There was no need to explain the route either. Everyone here had lived on Heavenly Mountain for years at shortest, decades at longest. Only Namgung Myeong and Hong Geolgae didn't know the way.
The group skirted wide around the edge of the Demonic Cult headquarters.
Every gaze was fixed on the Cult Leader's Palace. It wasn't hard to guess what they were imagining: some peerless divine art hidden somewhere in there.
As the pace slowed, the Three-Eyed Monk spoke sternly.
"Shed your delusions and keep moving. Even if you snag a peerless martial manual, you won't be able to read the Anshik script anyway. It'd be worthless."
The group shook off their regrets, and their steps quickened a bit.
Now they just needed to head down from headquarters toward the village edge, then east. After that, each would find their own path to survival.
A short way in, a familiar spot caught Dang Mujin's eye. It was the poison hut where he'd stayed the past few months.
Dang Mujin glanced at it with mixed feelings, then hurried on.
Then, the Three-Eyed Monk asked him in a low voice.
"Did you handle the little miss who was with you properly?"
"You mean Mok Wan-ah? And handle how?"
When Dang Mujin asked back, the Three-Eyed Monk clicked his tongue.
"Young and green, eh. Inexperience shows in unexpected places. You mean you escaped without eliminating the watcher?"
"...Watcher?"
"Isn't it obvious they'd assign a watcher to an outsider?"
Only then did Dang Mujin grasp what the Three-Eyed Monk meant.
"Mok Wan-ah isn't the type. She's not scheming enough to stir trouble behind my back either."
"It's not about wanting to or her nature. It's just a choice between options. Follow orders from above as a watcher and survive, or slack off and die."
Dang Mujin sighed. So that's how it was.
The Three-Eyed Monk asked again.
"In your view, how would Mok little miss act?"
It wasn't a tough question. Dang Mujin knew her desperate will to live.
She'd harbored poison to outlast everyone else and stayed inside the cave to survive even a bit longer.
As long as she could live, nothing else mattered to her.
The Three-Eyed Monk eyed Dang Mujin's expression, then ordered the group.
"Keep moving without stopping. I need to check something."
The Three-Eyed Monk turned back toward the poison hut, and Dang Mujin followed.
The two opened the wooden door of the poison hut. No one was inside.
Dang Mujin's chest tightened. When he'd left the hut earlier, Mok Wan-ah had been sleeping right beside him.
The Three-Eyed Monk muttered.
"She's already slipped away. We need to hurry."
He seemed to sense failure already. Pursuers would show up the moment they reached the village, and he had no confidence in shaking Demonic Cult trackers without free use of his internal energy.
But Dang Mujin clung to a sliver of hope. There was one more place to check.
"Please wait a moment."
Dang Mujin crawled into the hidden passage deeper in the cave.
He knew the odds of her being there were low. No reason for Mok Wan-ah, who had been soundly asleep outside, to move and sleep elsewhere unprompted.
Contrary to his expectations, though, Mok Wan-ah lay there. The problem was the overwhelming poison aura inside the narrow tunnel—his skin tingled, eyes stung.
Dang Mujin held his breath and dragged the limp Mok Wan-ah out.
"Huff, heave, heave!"
Once outside the passage, he gulped air roughly and checked her condition.
Mok Wan-ah's lips were pale blue, her breaths shallow. Even those faint breaths carried thick poison—the Three-Eyed Monk could sense it too.
The Three-Eyed Monk muttered.
"She's poisoned herself."
Mok Wan-ah's body was tough enough to shrug off ordinary poisons. For even her to lose consciousness from poison, how much had she ingested?
Dang Mujin searched the poison vats inside the hut one by one. Most were empty.
Her reason for drinking it was easy to guess. She had no intent to betray Dang Mujin's actions or plans, but no confidence in enduring the punishment that would follow.
So why hadn't she snitched?
'Loyalty, maybe.'
A pang hit Dang Mujin's heart.
They'd grown somewhat close during their time together in the poison hut. To Mok Wan-ah, he was her first real friend— that must have meant a lot.
But he hadn't expected her to choose death over betrayal.
'She's got more grit than she looks.'
Either way, if they didn't extract the poison now, even Mok Wan-ah's life was in peril.
Dang Mujin laid her on the ground, and impatience crept into the Three-Eyed Monk's voice.
"No time for that. We have to hurry."
"You go ahead if you want. I'll handle this quick and catch up."
"How could I leave after you say that?"
Dang Mujin flashed a faint smile, then moved swiftly.
First, he pried open Mok Wan-ah's mouth and shoved his fingers deep into her throat. The standard first aid for someone who'd eaten toxic herbs by mistake.
The reaction was immediate. Even unconscious, she writhed in agony, vomiting up the contents of her stomach. Black poison liquid poured out, filling the air with its acrid stench.
Dang Mujin kept jamming his fingers down her throat until she'd emptied all the poison liquid.
The Three-Eyed Monk looked queasy.
"Don't know the type, but surviving after swallowing this much? Incredible."
Dang Mujin thought the same. What courage drove this timid girl to down so much poison?
Now for the finish. He tried infusing internal energy to draw out the lingering poison in her body. But the chickweed poison made fine control impossible—like trying to pick up a single grain of rice with two thick chopsticks.
'Have to use a crude method.'
Instead of extracting the poison outward, Dang Mujin absorbed some of the poison qi circulating in her body into his own. Mok Wan-ah's expression eased greatly.
'...This should keep her from dying.'
Dang Mujin finished the emergency treatment and stood. His head spun, vision blurring.
It felt like someone had grabbed his crown and shaken his head side to side.
As he staggered, the Three-Eyed Monk asked.
"You alright?"
"Fine. I'm used to poison, so detoxing won't take long."
As Dang Mujin tried to hoist the limp Mok Wan-ah onto his back, the Three-Eyed Monk stopped him.
"I'll carry her. You just walk."
"I'm good."
"You're swaying like you'll collapse any second—what good are you?"
Dang Mujin planted his feet firmly and balanced before replying.
"If a fight comes, shouldn't you handle it, Elder, not me? Besides, the poison renders me useless in combat right now anyway. Better I carry her."
"Well, if you're that set on it, I won't argue."
Dang Mujin and the Three-Eyed Monk exited the poison hut. Fresh air cleared their heads a bit. He could walk without toppling even with Mok Wan-ah on his back.
With every breath she took, he felt her soft skin through his back, her faint breath on his nape. Dang Mujin walked briskly while meticulously checking if her breathing continued.
The two hurried—half-jogging—and soon caught up to the advance group. They were crossing the village edge, leaving the foothills of Heavenly Mountain.
The lead group whipped around at the footsteps, tense—then relaxed upon seeing the Three-Eyed Monk and Dang Mujin. All but two.
Namgung Myeong and Hong Geolgae's faces filled with shock and disgust.
"Is that bastard Dang Mujin even human?"
"While Dansul Yeong worried about you, you fool around with another girl? Even beasts wouldn't stoop that low."
"What nonsense? She's just a colleague I researched poison with."
Hong Geolgae and Namgung Myeong eyed Mok Wan-ah on Dang Mujin's back.
Her face was hidden by his back and shoulders, but her skin—whiter than any noble lady's—stood out strikingly. No one they'd ever seen was that pale.
Namgung Myeong sneered.
"Oh yeah? Your research colleague happens to be a girl your age, and important enough to carry through crisis?"
"Yeah. Loyalty demands loyalty in return. You wouldn't get it."
"That loyalty of yours—is it only for women...? Huh?"
Mid-sentence, Namgung Myeong stared at the sky somewhere. Dang Mujin felt a bad premonition.
A bird as big as a man was diving toward the group.
And in the distance, dust clouds rose from approaching riders.
"Run."
The Three-Eyed Monk said in a low voice.