Chapter 234
Chapter 234
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 234
Chapter Title: Gyo Buhwa
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Dang Mujin was chatting with Gyo Buhwa in a tone that had grown quite friendly over the past few days.
The topic was set in stone. The poison arts of the Southern Frontier and the poison techniques Dang Mujin had mastered.
Gyo Buhwa caught a small insect and showed it to him as she explained.
"The Blood Horn Worm takes on different poisons depending on its feed. Normally, it lives off the essence of Blood Horn... or Kirin Gall, as they call it here. But raising it that way makes the poison weak. Even after multiple bites, all you'd get is a slight swelling."
"The poison changes based on its food?"
"That's right. The bigger ones fed on the sap of that Yi Mu Grass over there can make a person suffer from high fever. It's hard to lose your life from it, but without poison arts training, even the greatest expert would be bedridden for half a month."
"That grass... I nibbled a bit last time, and I didn't feel any toxicity."
Dang Mujin asked freely whenever something piqued his curiosity, and Gyo Buhwa always answered readily.
"It's not like they only produce poison if fed poisonous food."
"True enough. What other poisons can you breed into them?"
"If you feed them the sap of the Cow Nose Tree, they become an aphrodisiac with no known antidote. Unfortunately, I don't have any Cow Nose Tree seeds right now."
"An aphrodisiac, huh. So those really exist."
The poison arts of the Southern Frontier seemed similar in structure to those of Dang Mujin or the Strange Physicians.
But the details differed in most areas.
The biggest difference was in how they wielded poison.
The Strange Physicians used poison like a supplementary weapon. They'd administer it after subduing a foe or occasionally sprinkle toxin liquid.
Dang Mujin had advanced a step further from that. He coated weapons made by Dan Seol-yeong with poison or even dipped needles in it to manipulate them through the air.
Yet the warriors of the Southern Frontier chose a far simpler and more devastating method. They unleashed venomous creatures like insects or snakes directly at the enemy.
By harnessing the instincts of these venomous beings, they could deploy poison arts without the complex, arduous skill of air manipulation.
There were many ways to control venomous creatures.
Some insects were drawn to specific scents, others to flute sounds or faint vibrations, and some would plunge into fire pits at the scent of a female.
*This must be the true power of the Five Poisons Sect.*
Such knowledge couldn't be amassed by one person's solitary efforts.
It was an achievement born from countless people pooling their experiences.
Dang Mujin inwardly marveled with every story from Gyo Buhwa.
Of course, there was the risk that if things went wrong, the handler could get bitten and poisoned themselves.
Even accounting for that danger, it was an effective and potent method that captivated Dang Mujin.
He was the one who had invented and mastered air-manipulated poison arts, and thus knew their difficulties and inconveniences better than anyone.
"You said raising Blood Horn Worms isn't hard, right?"
"Correct. Breeding them is easy too. You just need to know what to feed them."
"Then, could I take a few Blood Horn Worms with me?"
When Dang Mujin asked, Gyo Buhwa put on a coy expression.
"I saw you sneaking some earlier. Don't play innocent now."
"I figured you'd say yes, so I prepared in advance. Since we're at it, share some suitable grass for their feed too."
As Dang Mujin brazenly bantered, Gyo Buhwa pretended to ponder, then sidled up close and flirted playfully.
"No matter how I look at it, I'm the one losing out here. What are you going to give me?"
"I've taught you my poison arts and shown you air manipulation. That's not something I share with just anyone."
Gyo Buhwa grumbled.
"But it's hard for me to learn your poison arts. I've never swung a sword in my life—how am I supposed to do air manipulation?"
"That's not my fault. If worst comes to worst, maybe hint to your kids someday that this method exists?"
"If I have no choice, I guess I'd do that. But it's such a shame. If I'd known, I would've at least learned the basics of swordsmanship."
Just as Dang Mujin had learned much, Gyo Buhwa had gained plenty too.
She had more knowledge on poisons, but when it came to fusing them with martial arts, Dang Mujin's skill was overwhelming.
Forming poison pellets or circulating internal energy were prime examples. The poison arts of Dang Mujin and the Five Poisons Sect were similar yet subtly different.
Referencing poison arts that diverged completely could be helpful.
But observing ones headed in the same direction with only minor variations was an even greater experience.
Similar systems meant insights and knowledge from each other could be applied swiftly.
And this was an even greater opportunity for Dang Mujin than for Gyo Buhwa.
He'd had almost no chances to exchange ideas on poison arts with others.
Dang Mujin kept chuckling.
*I made the right call coming to Mt. Nogyun.*
With every moment of conversation, Dang Mujin and Gyo Buhwa expanded their perspectives, encountered new methods, and elevated their poison arts.
*
After Dang Mujin and Gyo Buhwa holed up in the cave for days, immersed in talk, someone grew bored. Mok Wana.
*What should I do today?*
Mok Wana certainly had her own expertise in poisons.
But while her instincts for poison arts were sharp, her theoretical knowledge was lacking.
Even listening to Dang Mujin and Gyo Buhwa felt like grasping at clouds, and explaining her own experiences to them was even harder.
Moreover, Gyo Buhwa clearly treated Mok Wana with discomfort, which was the biggest issue.
Given Mok Wana's personality, she wasn't one to pick fights, so she naturally wandered away from the cave to idle around nearby.
*Guess I'll go find Uncle Jinram again today.*
That's why Mok Wana sought out Jinram, Gyo Buhwa's bodyguard warrior.
At first, she thought he simply wasn't talkative due to his poor grasp of Central Plains speech, but that was only partly true.
Jinram was unskilled in Central Plains tongue and taciturn to boot.
Mok Wana visited him for days, yet the responses she got barely filled a few sentences.
But with no one else to play with, what choice did she have? She'd seek him out and chatter away solo.
"How old are you, Uncle?"
"..."
"You look over thirty-five but under forty."
Jinram turned his head slightly.
Mok Wana scooted around to face him and asked again.
"Are you married? How many kids?"
"..."
"Guess not married, huh?"
Jinram nodded reluctantly. Mok Wana, pleased even with that, unleashed a barrage of questions.
"How'd you meet Lady Gyo?"
"...Chosen."
It had been ages since she heard his voice.
Not only did he reply, but the phrasing 'chosen' felt oddly nuanced.
This seemed ripe for stories. Mok Wana fired off more questions to dig deeper.
"What does 'chosen' mean?"
"..."
"Don't be annoyed—tell me. I'll listen nice and slow."
Seeing she wouldn't back down easily, Jinram sighed softly and picked up a small twig.
He planned to compensate for his lacking words with drawings.
Jinram spoke only when absolutely necessary, explaining with writing and sketches.
The Five Poisons Sect divided broadly into two.
The Five Great Bloodlines forming its core.
And the Inner Servants, who weren't bloodline but served the Five Great Bloodlines within the sect's fold.
Only the Five Great Bloodlines could learn poison arts and poison techniques.
Gyo Buhwa was naturally of the bloodlines, but in the past, Jinram hadn't even been an Inner Servant—merely an outsider beyond the sect's pale.
As a child, Jinram envied the Inner Servants.
They might be scorned within the sect's walls, but compared to ordinary Southern Frontier folk, they wielded immense prestige.
Jinram relentlessly trained in martial arts to enter the Five Poisons Sect.
Each of the Five Great Bloodlines selected one bodyguard warrior, and one didn't need to be an Inner Servant if their skill was top-notch.
In the end, Jinram achieved something special and was chosen as a bodyguard.
When he explained up to there, Mok Wana asked.
"What's so great about being an Inner Servant?"
"A lot."
The bloodlines tossed crumbs of power to the Inner Servants.
Crumb by bloodline standards, of course. To outsiders, those crumbs were immense.
They could earn a year's income in a month and brush off killing outsiders in quarrels with servants.
Among Inner Servants, bodyguards held especially high status. Who else served the bloodlines more closely?
Power's scraps fall thickest nearby.
"Then why no marriage? In the Central Plains, a quiet swordmaster would be popular. Southern Frontier guys like that unpopular?"
Jinram shook his head.
"To become a bodyguard, you must harbor a gu."
"What's that?"
It wasn't a story he particularly wanted to share, nor easy to explain. Jinram glossed over it.
"There's such a thing."
Gu. Gu poison, witchcraft gu.
Many names, many making methods.
But it referred to a pair: Mother Gu and Child Gu.
Shoved up the nose, they crawl to the brain and settle.
Mother Gu just lives oddly, harmless to humans. Even fully grown, it's rice-grain small.
Child Gu differs. It grows much larger and has peculiar traits.
When Mother Gu dies, Child Gu senses it, thrashes, and tears everything around.
Thus, if the Child Gu host dies, no issue for the Mother Gu host.
But if Mother Gu dies, the Child Gu host's brain turns to mush, dying inescapably. A ruthless worm with no removal method.
Cruel and bizarre, yet the sturdiest leash a master could put on a bodyguard.
"So that's why you can't marry because of this 'gu'?"
"I choose not to."
Ironically, gu poison made bodyguards even hotter marriage prospects.
Sect infighting was fierce. Bloodlines died often, bodyguards more so.
A living bodyguard earned well and held decent status—a fine husband.
But their appeal didn't end there. They left hefty legacies upon death. Remarriage wasn't taboo in the South, amplifying it.
Once selected as Gyo Buhwa's bodyguard, women flocked to Jinram.
Some eyed his backing and wealth, but most likely fancied the man himself.
The problem: Jinram now viewed every woman with suspicion.
Suspicion—the deepest poison in one's heart. Incurable, most vicious.
Better alone than building a family under suspicious eyes, he concluded.
Of course, he didn't explain all that rigmarole to Mok Wana.
Jinram realized he'd spun quite a long yarn for himself.
He should feel annoyed, yet it had somehow been enjoyable.
Was it her innocent nature? Or that she knew nothing of Southern life or bodyguards?
After some back-and-forth, Mok Wana's face suddenly darkened.
"Poor you. Similar to me, but a bit different."
"Similar?"
"I can't marry either. Dang Mujin rejected me recently."
Mok Wana didn't hide her sadness, earnestly spilling every detail to Jinram.
Listening, Jinram let out a chuckle.
He knew little of Central Plains customs. But Mok Wana's actions were plainly unusual, her situation absurdly comical.
"Ha!"
"Why laugh? It's not even ten days old! I didn't show it in front of Mujin, but it hurts."
As Mok Wana grumbled, Jinram's laughter grew louder.
How long since he'd laughed?
Seemed like first since Child Gu burrowed in—or maybe since childhood.
Jinram belatedly stopped, but the smile clung stubbornly to his lips.
He glanced at Mok Wana and turned away.
*An intriguing woman.*
Envy toward Dang Mujin for winning her heart.
And faint worry for both Dang Mujin and Mok Wana.
Ripples stirred in Jinram's heart.
He looked ahead again.
Mok Wana's gaze wasn't on him but elsewhere.
The cave where Dang Mujin and Gyo Buhwa conversed.
Jinram teased mischievously.
"Lady Mok."
"Yes?"
"How would it feel if Young Master Dang married your lady?"
"That'll never happen."
Mok Wana stated firmly.
Not denial of the obvious. Pure conviction.
"I see."
Jinram pondered long, then spoke to Mok Wana.
"I'll say this once, so listen well."
"What?"
"You should leave this place immediately."
"Why? Where to?"
Jinram rose without answering.
Complex emotions flickered in his eyes toward Mok Wana. Pity. Regret. Vast, vague goodwill, tinged ever so slightly with affection.
Jinram brushed it all away lightly.
As always, no great feat.