Chapter 266
Chapter 266
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 266
Chapter Title: Infiltration
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It differed slightly from the method anticipated by Ilseonja or the Qingcheng Sect Daoists, but Dang Mujin diligently roamed Pyeongnyang County, gathering information.
"Nothing special in sight?"
"It's eerily quiet, just like the last time we came. Is it because it's dark?"
He thought that if it had been daytime, he might have subtly approached the beggars to inquire about the news.
But upon second thought, that wasn't such a great approach. There was always the chance one of the beggars might have ties to an unorthodox martial artist.
In the end, the four climbed onto the roof of the most upscale tavern in Pyeongnyang County and spread out at a suitable distance.
They each pressed their ears to the roof, eavesdropping on the conversations inside.
"If you hear any good information, let us know ahead of time."
"Got it."
The group stayed motionless for quite a while.
Naturally, no one who knew the inner workings of the Kongtong Sect was going to conveniently start talking at the right moment.
The four lay prone on the roof, enduring the still-chilly spring breeze for a long time.
It was both physically taxing and boring, so soon enough, Namgung Myeong began to grumble.
"This feels like something anyone else could have done. Aren't we the youngest in the group, getting stuck with the grunt work?"
"The Qingcheng Sect Daoists probably thought we'd be asking around the locals in Pyeongnyang County. Not many people climb onto roofs to eavesdrop on conversations just to gather intel."
When Dang Mujin replied, Namgung Myeong grumbled again.
"We're the ones who can teach them effective ways to gather information. And it doesn't make sense that Daoists can't do this because they might get recognized. Just wear a mask and mind your posture—who's going to tell if you're a Daoist or not?"
Hyeon-gong, still pressing his ear to the roof, answered seriously.
"Namgung Myeong. Ordinary people don't carry masks around like you do."
"That could be. But I can lend them masks."
"Why don't you realize that pulling a mask out of your pocket is suspicious in itself?"
Hong Geolgae, listening in, spoke with a pitiful tone.
"He's more used to his mask than his own face. He's at the point where he can't tell normal from abnormal anymore. One day, he'll put on a mask in front of his own father and get scolded."
As Namgung Myeong opened his mouth to retort, Dang Mujin shushed them.
"Hold on, be quiet."
He thought he faintly heard mention of the Kongtong Sect. Dang Mujin pressed his ear closer to the roof.
The voices became clearer. The speakers seemed to be merchants or officials connected to them.
"You know how the Kongtong Sect got purged last time?"
"Yeah, I heard. But I don't know the exact details."
"First, the Kongtong Sect got driven out, then some other guys moved in. Then some martial artists came and chased out the new Kongtong Sect folks... Something like that. You know?"
"Was that it? Hmm. Anyway, why?"
"Word is, those returning Kongtong Sect Daoists left again for somewhere."
"With people constantly getting kicked out and replaced, I have no idea what's going on anymore. What sect changes residents like a guesthouse inn room?"
"No, listen closely..."
Even the explainer seemed confused, so the listener couldn't possibly understand properly.
But the content itself wasn't the important part.
The two seemed like the type deeply interested in worldly affairs. If even they didn't know the Kongtong Sect's situation well, it meant the people of Pyeongnyang County had no reason to pay attention to the sect's internal matters.
That led to the conclusion that the Kongtong Sect had been quiet lately.
Dang Mujin lifted his head and said.
"Those who newly took over the Kongtong Sect probably haven't been venturing out much."
Hyeon-gong asked.
"Then why did they settle into the Kongtong Sect?"
The four fell into thought simultaneously. But no one could guess the reason.
The uproar at the Kongtong Sect had happened just recently. For anyone to move back in after that was bizarre behavior, no matter how you looked at it.
It would draw the eyes of the orthodox martial world, tense the entire orthodox faction, and inevitably lead to clashes—it was obvious.
If they were using the Kongtong Sect as a base for some operation, that might make sense, but the situation suggested otherwise.
Hong Geolgae offered his own answer.
"Who knows. Maybe there's treasure hidden on Kongtong Mountain? They're targeting the mountain and sect for it."
But Namgung Myeong immediately countered.
"No. We searched every corner of the Kongtong Sect last time and saw nothing like that."
"Then, is gold mining out of the Kongtong Sect or something?"
"If that were the case, the villagers would have noticed. Besides, do you think unorthodox martial artists would meekly swing pickaxes to mine gold? Give a pickaxe to an unorthodox fighter, and he'll smash the guy next to him with it, grab the loot, and run."
Namgung Myeong spat out words full of prejudice against unorthodox martial artists. The kind of talk that would pain Elder Jang's heart.
But based on Dang Mujin's experience, it was somewhat true. Unorthodox martial artists generally had fiercer and more impatient temperaments than orthodox ones.
Both orthodox and unorthodox fighters wielded power, but unorthodox ones didn't undergo the mentally disciplined process within structured rules.
Thus, unorthodox martial artists struggled to hold back when problems arose, often resolving issues through brute force rather than complex methods.
Dang Mujin stood up from his spot and said.
"Anyway, I think we've learned all we can. Time to head back."
Their mission was simply to check Pyeongnyang County and the Kongtong Sect for anything unusual and return. This was more than sufficient.
However, Namgung Myeong's thirst wasn't quenched.
It had been a while since he'd ventured out, he was wearing a mask, and the cool night breeze felt refreshing.
In such a situation, going back after just eavesdropping felt unsatisfying.
It was like starting a duel full of momentum, only to unleash a single basic stance and sheathe his sword.
"No. Dang Mujin. Since we're here, we should check out the Kongtong Sect before leaving."
When Namgung Myeong suggested it, Hong Geolgae interjected with opposition.
"We've done our job, so we should head back now. It's dangerous."
This time, Namgung Myeong shook his head with a serious expression.
"This is all for your sake."
"...In what way?"
"Hong Geolgae. You wouldn't know, but people who just follow orders don't grow."
"Anyone else, maybe. But you need to stick to orders."
"Why me?"
"Because you only do the things everyone tells you not to."
Hong Geolgae and Namgung Myeong bickered briefly, then looked to Dang Mujin and Hyeon-gong. Whose side were they on?
Dang Mujin thought both had valid points, so he showed no reaction. Unexpectedly, Hyeon-gong sided with Namgung Myeong.
"I think Namgung Myeong is right."
"What?"
"How much we learn here could change the future. It might reduce sacrifices later on."
A true Wudang Sect Daoist's words, with fire under his feet. Seeming to lose public opinion, Hong Geolgae backed down.
"...Sigh. Fine."
The night was still young.
The four leaped silently from rooftop to rooftop, racing toward Kongtong Mountain.
Their movements were so stealthy that no one noticed the group passing by.
Since they'd been this way before, they didn't get lost. They carefully avoided the paths to steer clear of any unorthodox martial artists from the Kongtong Sect.
Finally, the four arrived at the Kongtong Sect's outer wall.
"I sense presences."
"Quite a few, too."
The four circled along the wall, then crouched near the spot with the most activity.
Peeking over the wall was amateur work.
As if on cue, they infused their fingers with internal energy, poked holes in the wall, and peered inside. The wall, made of stone and mud, wasn't hard to pierce.
Even at this late hour, dozens of martial artists inside the Kongtong Sect were diligently training.
This was the second time Dang Mujin's group had seen unorthodox martial artists training so unitedly. The first was the unorthodox fighters at Hwan'gol Pavilion before.
Moreover, the people inside weren't training half-heartedly. They were truly putting heart and soul into swinging fists and kicking legs.
Dang Mujin's group was baffled.
"What is this? This scene looks just like the one at Hwan'gol Pavilion before. Are they really Kongtong Sect martial artists?"
"No. The techniques they're using are all different."
"Yeah? What's that technique?"
When Hong Geolgae asked, Namgung Myeong pondered briefly before answering.
"At the very least, it's not Kongtong Sect martial arts. The aura and feel are different from the start. No overlapping forms either."
In front of the people stood a platform about human height, and atop it was someone overlooking the dozens of martial artists.
The distance was far, and away from the torches, so the face wasn't clear. But from the atmosphere, he seemed like the leader commanding the unorthodox martial artists occupying the Kongtong Sect.
Then, a low drumbeat sounded.
Dong, dong—
The training people halted their movements in unison.
The man on the platform clasped hands politely toward the side, then descended.
Following that, a man in flowing robes appeared.
His face couldn't be seen again, but two things were clear: a small, sturdy build, and a shiny bald head.
'A monk?'
The monk slowly demonstrated fist techniques under the dark sky without moonlight.
'Shaolin Temple?'
No. The fist art resembled Shaolin's—robust and solid—but carried a sinister aura.
The people below the platform watched the one above and slowly followed the fist techniques.
At the same time, a subtle fragrance began to waft.
Not a poison that harmed or killed, but one from a flower that clouded the mind and induced haze. Dang Mujin said lowly.
"Slow your breathing and push out the infiltrating poison."
"Got it."
The poison spread suddenly, but Dang Mujin wasn't worried about his friends.
It wasn't a cluster of multiple poisons, nor one hard to expel.
The people inside the Kongtong Sect were martial artists too, so they couldn't have failed to notice the poison.
Yet no one fled. As if they knew the flower scent was coming.
How much time passed? Heat began to infuse their gestures and movements.
The people slowly fell into a trance. Some muttered incoherently, and a few even exchanged blows with fists and kicks.
Then, some seemed to attain enlightenment, entering ecstatic states. Truly bizarre.
At that moment, the man on the platform clapped his palms together. Internal energy so vast anyone could feel it.
Those dazed by the flower scent scattered, creating a large open space in the center.
The man on the platform lowered his stance and extended his right hand toward the clearing.
Boom!
A roar echoed, and dust rose from the ground.
"What was that? What happened?"
"I couldn't see."
Dang Mujin's group waited for the dust to settle.
Once it did, they beheld an astonishing sight.
A massive handprint was left in the clearing.
Its size was extraordinary—five or ten times a normal person's palm.
"...How?"
"No idea."
It looked like a supreme expert had stamped a true step, but it wasn't a foot technique, and the distance from the man's position to the print was far.
The man on the platform said.
"Many seem to have attained enlightenment today as well. Truly joyous."
The people prostrated themselves without exception, bowing their heads to the man on the platform.
Their movements brimmed with ecstasy. The bliss from the flower scent, and the joy of a martial artist advancing realms through enlightenment.
As people bowed, visibility cleared, and a breeze made the torches burn brighter. Then, the man on the platform came faintly into view.
Dang Mujin's eyes widened.
"It's the Ghost King!"
"...Ghost King?"
Hyeon-gong didn't know who the Ghost King was. But Namgung Myeong, Hong Geolgae, and Dang Mujin did.
One of the Demonic Cult's six absolute peak experts in the past. With Right Protector dead and Three-Eyed Buddha gone from the cult, now one of the four.
When escaping the Demonic Cult before, Left Protector and the Ghost King had pursued the group.
If Immortal Nun Hwayeon hadn't appeared in time, the group would have been helpless against the pursuing Ghost King and Left Protector.
Dang Mujin and Three-Eyed Buddha would have been dragged to the Demonic Cult, and the rest likely killed.
"Isn't that the guy we saw in the Demonic Cult?"
As Hong Geolgae frowned and spoke, Namgung Myeong wore a grave expression too.
"Well, with that level of skill, better to lord over unorthodox martial artists like a king than serve as the cult leader's underling. He seems popular now, too."
Unable to grasp the situation, Hyeon-gong asked again.
"Who the hell is this Ghost King?"
"A monk from Podalrap Palace. I'll explain details later—just stay quiet now. Ah, he's moving!"
The Ghost King stepped down from the platform and stood on the palm-shaped mark he'd left on the ground. He slowly scanned the surroundings, then spoke in a deeply lowered, solemn voice.
"I'll return next month. I hope even more achieve results then."
The people, swept in ecstasy, bowed even lower. Some wept, others shed tears of emotion.
Like the cult leader of some bizarre religion deceiving the masses.
Feeling uneasy, Hong Geolgae whispered tensely.
"Hey, let's get out of here."
No one opposed this time.
Dang Mujin's group quietly rose and dashed down Kongtong Mountain.