Chapter 278
Chapter 278
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 278
Chapter Title: Blood-Soaked
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While waiting for the others who had taken a different path through Gireun Mountain to return, Dang Mujin and his group hid at the foot of the mountain and kept watch over the village for several days.
If those others appeared, they had to join forces immediately, so they couldn’t even return to the village where they’d met the herb gatherer to rest.
In such a situation, the only way to pass the time without boredom was through stories.
But unexpectedly, the herb gatherer revealed a special talent. An astonishing gift for gab.
He had a knack for telling trivial tales—like slicing his finger while picking herbs or a quack herbalist failing to identify them properly—in a vivid and entertaining way.
Thanks to him, Dang Mujin’s group and the two children would hang on his every word whenever the herb gatherer opened his mouth.
Among the many stories he spun, one in particular seized Dang Mujin’s attention fiercely.
“The person who refined Jinchang Mountain herbs into Jinchang Ointment was that lady? That old woman... No, your master said that?”
“My master didn’t say it herself. I heard it from someone who came looking for her.”
Jinchang Powder was a type of powdered medicine.
Though the ingredients varied by maker, the effect was much the same, and it wasn’t hard to prepare.
Sprinkled on cuts or stab wounds, it stopped the bleeding, but it didn’t heal the injury itself.
Jinchang Ointment, however, was an entirely different level of medicine despite the similar name.
Not only did it staunch bleeding like the powder, but it could heal all but the gravest wounds, leaving only scars behind. Even better, it usually prevented wounds from festering or rotting, which could lead to death.
No wonder martial artists called it a spare life. Its efficacy was legendary.
The fact that it hadn’t come straight from the herb gatherer’s master herself was no issue at all.
Such tales gained more credibility when passed on by others, after all.
Still, just to be sure, Dang Mujin asked the herb gatherer.
“By any chance, who told you that story?”
“What was his name... Ah! A man named Yi Chung. He came to Gireun Mountain about ten years ago. Or was it fifteen?”
Dang Mujin stiffened at the sudden name.
Yi Chung wasn’t uncommon, but how many would trek to Gireun Mountain to discuss medicine?
“Do you remember what he looked like, by chance?”
“He was around my age, maybe a bit older? Quite handsome. But there was something oddly twisted about him... Still, he didn’t seem like a bad person.”
Dang Mujin soon felt a warm glow. To stumble upon his master’s traces in such an unexpected place.
And with it, a surge of interest in the old woman said to have created Jinchang Ointment.
The Strange Physician loved jokes, but never lied about medicine. The story about the old woman had to be true.
Moreover, Jinchang Ointment was one of the rare medicines that treated external wounds.
Someone who could make that would surely know a few other secret remedies.
“Does your master know how to make any other medicines, by chance?”
“I remember her making all sorts of things. But people came to her more for broken bones than medicines.”
The unexpected turn caught Dang Mujin off guard, and he asked again in confusion.
“Pardon? You mean dislocations?”
“No, no. Plenty of people can pop joints back in. I mean literally broken bones. Like when I tumbled down a hillside and shattered my leg—my master fixed it.”
The herb gatherer said this while showing his shin. A small scar peeked through the leg hair, but there was no way to tell if it was from a fracture.
Physicians could regulate tangled internal energies, but they couldn’t mend broken bones or reattach flesh.
Yet the herb gatherer’s tale clearly exceeded a normal physician’s domain. He himself seemed oblivious to how extraordinary it was.
The herb gatherer continued.
“It’s not like other ailments where you rub on salve or swallow pills and the bone magically knits. She manipulated my leg this way and that to align the bones, then made me lie still for nearly two months without moving. I stayed put out of fear of becoming lame, but I suffered bedsores on my back.”
A broken leg, if lucky, left you limping; if not, crippled for life.
But to Dang Mujin’s eye, the herb gatherer’s gait was no different from an ordinary person’s.
“Setting broken bones... That must have been excruciating. Ah! She must have used pressure points. Your master must practice martial arts.”
“No, that’s not it. My master has this strange incense. Sniff it, and you feel no pain.”
Each detail pushed beyond the bounds of medicine Dang Mujin knew.
His heart raced.
At this point, Dang Mujin grew more eager than the herb gatherer’s own disciple.
What if those unorthodox warriors harmed the herb gatherer’s master?
Yarul Lan and Yarul Hwan looked bored with the medical talk, but Dang Mujin ignored their sullen glares and pressed on.
“Could you tell me more about your master?”
“I’ll tell you anything I know. We’ve got time...”
The old woman grew more peculiar with every story.
Despite her remarkable medical skills, she hadn’t left Gireun Mountain in decades. She’d experimented on herself with various herbs and gone blind.
Even now, she relied on fingertip sensations to treat the Twin Extremes Blood Pupil.
'No wonder the Twin Extremes Blood Pupil came to Gireun Mountain. He must have thought that old woman could somehow heal his arm.'
For a moment, Dang Mujin wondered if the Twin Extremes Blood Pupil had brought his severed arm—if so, she might have reattached it. Though by now, that left arm was likely mountain beast fodder.
*
Two days later, Dang Mujin felt a subtle sensation.
An unpleasant scrape, like a tiny iron rake clawing deep in his chest.
Martial artists never ignored such instincts—doing so often meant losing your head.
So Dang Mujin racked his brains to pinpoint the source.
And finally realized it.
Today, the Twin Extremes Blood Pupil seemed deeply dissatisfied with how the old woman treated him.
'Why?'
What reason could a patient have to antagonize his physician?
None. Physicians lived on the gratitude of the masses. Especially one as skilled as that old woman.
But Dang Mujin shook his head.
'No. The situation might be different.'
He emptied his mind and started over from scratch, as coldly as possible.
Was the Twin Extremes Blood Pupil an ordinary patient?
No. He was an exceptional warrior who had lost an arm.
The greater his skill, the deeper his sense of loss.
The Twin Extremes Blood Pupil had steeled his fragile heart to enter Gireun Mountain. He must have pinned immense hopes on the old woman.
When those hopes—born of desperation—were betrayed.
Yet when the risk of his wound festering and killing him vanished.
How would the Twin Extremes Blood Pupil act?
'This is bad.'
Dang Mujin gathered his thoughts and watched the old woman and Twin Extremes Blood Pupil.
The old woman finished her treatment, relying on her fingertips just as in previous days. The two exchanged a few brief words, lips moving.
Then the Twin Extremes Blood Pupil rose and picked up his short spear with his right hand.
Up to here, it was no different from usual. Warriors treated weapons like extensions of themselves and never left them behind.
But his grip was different.
Instead of holding it like a staff near the blade, he gripped the bottom of the shaft—like wielding it as a weapon.
The blind old woman couldn’t tell how he held the spear, and the herb gatherer didn’t grasp the grip’s meaning.
Yet the herb gatherer felt the same instinct as Dang Mujin. Both shot to their feet at once.
“Master!”
The herb gatherer, forgetting the situation entirely, shouted loudly and dashed toward the village.
Dang Mujin was no different. If anything, more desperate. He couldn’t even guess the depth and breadth of the herb gatherer’s master’s medical knowledge.
Some might have passed to him through the Strange Physician, but only fragments, not the whole—and from over a decade ago.
How much had she advanced in the last ten-plus years?
'No!'
But Dang Mujin and the herb gatherer’s hopes were dashed.
The distance between their group and the village was far; between the old woman and Twin Extremes Blood Pupil, close.
Dang Mujin saw the Twin Extremes Blood Pupil swing his spear indifferently, piercing the old woman’s chest dead center. For an instant, the world seemed to freeze in horror.
If it had been him pierced, he could stay calm. But seeing the herb gatherer’s master in mortal peril left only one thought.
Such a person couldn’t die so pointlessly.
'Is she dead? Is she gone? No. If she’s lucky, it missed the heart.'
'The angle might make it look like a heart strike. Besides, the Twin Extremes Blood Pupil knows how profound her medicine is. He wouldn’t kill a healer like her without reason.'
Even as he thought this, curses poured from Dang Mujin’s lips nonstop.
His heart clung to hope she’d survive, while his mind judged she couldn’t.
The herb gatherer’s cries grew louder. Naturally, the unorthodox warriors in the village heard them.
Dang Mujin’s group at the mountain’s base. Their gazes met the unorthodox warriors’.
*
Just before the spear pierced the old woman’s chest, Jin Hae sat cross-legged, reviewing Qingcheng Sect techniques in his mind.
The cryptic insights from Elder Yeongheo. Tales that made no sense. Qingcheng martial arts. Thoughts floated aimlessly, refusing to mesh.
Then the herb gatherer’s shout rang out. Jin Hae’s spine tingled, eyes snapping open.
The group was hiding, biding their time—no such loud cries should have come.
Even if one did, it should have been from Dang Mujin’s group, not the herb gatherer.
And about spotting Qingcheng, Jongnam, or Jeomchang warriors.
But the voice and its content defied expectations. The situation had gone awry.
Jin Hae scanned around. Dang Mujin and the herb gatherer were charging out.
Hong Geolgae and Namgung Myeong leaped up too, as if to follow Dang Mujin.
Jin Hae shouted hastily.
“Where are you going!”
“Run!”
Namgung Myeong answered curtly. But Jin Hae couldn’t fathom his thinking.
“You’ll die if you go now! Didn’t we say Ghost King is most likely in that village!”
“You only fight battles you can win?”
“It’s not about winning or losing! It’s a fight we can only lose!”
Namgung Myeong said.
“You still don’t want to become a martial artist, it seems.”
That again. A question without a right answer.
“More vague nonsense!”
Namgung Myeong had no intention of persuading further. He knew how foolish this was.
Then footsteps approached from behind. Hyeon-gong.
Hyeon-gong gripped Jin Hae’s shoulder.
“Will you be an arrow that never leaves the string out of fear of breaking?”
It was profoundly cool, stirring the soul. Jin Hae’s foot stepped forward unwittingly. Manly instinct, perhaps.
One step to start. Enough. Like a summit boulder tumbling from a tiny shake, Jin Hae’s legs quickened. He knew it was foolish, yet pressed on.
Namgung Myeong glanced back. A smile hung on his eyes and lips, mismatched to the moment.
-Follow me! The blood-soaked path you crave is this way!
Namgung Myeong’s transmission reached him. Jin Hae’s hesitant steps sped up, soon breaking into full sprint.
Namgung Myeong ahead grabbed the herb gatherer’s nape and flung him back.
The herb gatherer flew and tumbled near the children. A deliberate act with clear meaning.
Though wildly excited, the herb gatherer hugged the two children close. Yarul Lan and Yarul Hwan looked baffled, clueless to the chaos.
They had to remain ignorant until it ended, so the herb gatherer bore guilt for botching things as he headed to the village.
Jin Hae’s temples throbbed fiercely. Felt like his heart had jumped to his head.
Swept by the mood and running, but something was deeply wrong.
Dang Mujin’s group hadn’t just lounged the past days.
They’d made plans.
Best case: hold out till reinforcements. But they’d also planned for unwanted fights.
Gain edge with Dang Mujin’s poisons and hidden weapons, then retreat while maintaining distance. That was optimal.
But now they charged the village. All plans shattered.
One small mercy: Dang Mujin regained sense late and stopped at a safe distance. His comrades must have halted him.
The village unorthodox warriors gripped weapons, glaring at Dang Mujin’s group.
Headcount so far, including Twin Extremes Blood Pupil: nine. A relief some seemed below first-rate.
'Four peaks, four first-rates? Or five peaks?'
As Jin Hae thought this, blood spurted from two peak-level warriors’ necks.
One head flew clean off; the other’s throat deeply gashed. Both fatal.
Hope bloomed in Jin Hae’s chest.
'We can win!'
Hong Geolgae and Namgung Myeong blocked the Twin Extremes Blood Pupil’s twin short spears, so his single spear should be manageable by two or three from Dang Mujin’s group.
That left even odds or better for the rest.
With Dang Mujin and him combining forces, they could handle the remaining first-rates and peaks.
Jin Hae deliberately set aside thoughts of Ghost King.
If Ghost King appeared, no chance anyway. Without him, easy win.
Just assume the ideal and give his all.
At that thought, blood jetted from two more foes’ necks.
'When?'
Dang Mujin retrieved two flying wheels.
His wheels defied common sense. Four kills before proper clash. Insane.
Chill and strange elation hit Jin Hae.
Dang Mujin’s prowess unnerved, yet inspired utter trust. Fighting beside such an ally.
Like Hong Geolgae before, Jin Hae stopped at Dang Mujin’s side, intent on guarding him.
Then Dang Mujin spoke.
“Don’t stay by my side.”
“Someone might target you, Dang Hero!”
“They won’t get close. No need to worry.”
No need to ask why. Jin Hae sensed the complex poison aura swirling around Dang Mujin.
Block approaches with poison, intercept at range with wheels. Simple, inimitable strategy.
Jin Hae looked ahead. Namgung Myeong and Hong Geolgae lunged at Twin Extremes Blood Pupil, weapons flashing.
Twin Extremes Blood Pupil couldn’t press as before, defending both attacks with one short spear.
Yet he held stable even with one. True transcendent peak.
Linger too long, and poison might claim them. Jin Hae left Dang Mujin’s side, charging straight for Twin Extremes Blood Pupil to shatter the delicate balance and take him down first.
Nearly upon him, Jin Hae felt ominous energy.
He turned. There stood Ghost King, smiling broadly.
Victory odds vanished. Heart sank.
Ghost King spoke.
“Seeing you again is even more delightful. Care to accept my gift?”
Ghost King swung his grotesquely massive palm, unleashing the Demon Subduing Seal.