Chapter 71
Chapter 71
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 71
Chapter Title: Walnut Tree
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The carriage had been silently halted amid the blizzard for quite some time.
It appeared peaceful from the outside, but inside, the world's quietest battle was unfolding.
Then the carriage door opened.
Thick poison dripped to the ground, staining the white snow, and the mist-like toxin rose, scattering in all directions on the blowing snow.
Following that, one man stepped out of the carriage. A middle-aged man in black robes—the Weird Robes.
The Weird Robes tucked the Poison Physician's medical text, the *Poison Construction Manual*, into his bosom and peered inside the carriage. He saw the Poison Physician's corpse, half-melted away.
*Did I underestimate him too much?*
The poisons the Poison Physician had refined and stored were thicker and more abundant than expected.
Had the Poison Physician's poison core not crumbled by a hair's breadth, the one meeting death inside the carriage might have been the Weird Robes instead.
*Should've just died quietly.*
The Weird Robes coughed a few times into the blizzard, then rolled lightly in the snow to wipe off some of the toxin clinging to his body. His wounds stung as snow and poison seeped in.
Beneath his black robes, his skin was covered in wounds large and small. Scars from being pursued by the assassins.
To make matters worse, blood from the wounds had frozen in the extreme cold. If he stripped off his clothes, chunks of flesh might come away with it.
*Those damn assassin bastards.*
From late autumn until now, the Weird Robes had employed every trick to shake off the assassins.
Pretending to rest in a village only to slip out at night was child's play.
He had dashed through dense forests for three days and nights straight and swum across rivers in icy water.
The fierce blizzard, so intense it was hard to keep his eyes open, had actually been a greater boon than harm—enough to suggest the extent of his ordeals.
His bold maneuvers had worked, allowing him brief moments to lose the assassins and catch his breath.
But such respites never lasted. The assassins would reappear from somewhere and tail him again.
At first, he wondered if he'd brushed against some tracking incense, but that wasn't it.
He had simply fled desperately, and the assassins had dogged him relentlessly—that was all.
A proper fight would have been preferable, but the assassins merely grated on his nerves, waiting for an opening without pressing the attack.
That was the biggest reason the Weird Robes despised the Assassin Veil. They were hunters wearing the guise of martial artists. They circled persistently, endlessly waiting for their prey's strength to ebb.
Yet paradoxically, the graver the situation grew, the more satisfied the Weird Robes felt deep down. It confirmed his judgment to leave Dang Mujin and Dan Seolyeong behind and set out alone was spot-on.
Had he lingered near them out of complacent thoughts like *The assassins will probe once or twice and leave*, Dang Mujin and Dan Seolyeong would be corpses by now.
The Weird Robes scanned his surroundings. Fortunately, no assassins were in sight at the moment.
The intensified blizzard not only disrupted all senses but also erased his footprints—a blessing.
Through the swirling snow, the Weird Robes gauged the sun's position and oriented himself toward the northeast.
Now it was time to return to Huizhou.
His hometown. Where it all began. Where his wife and daughter lay buried. Where the great walnut tree stood.
The Weird Robes turned his steps northeast.
Unintentionally, faint toxin trailed from him, slightly darkening his footprints in the snow. Before long, the white snow covered them over.
*
After walking for a long while, the Weird Robes fell into contemplation.
*What do I do after burying the Poison Construction Manual?*
He hadn't thought that far.
Ideally, he'd head back to Luoyang and wander the Central Plains leisurely, as he had these past few months. In his current state, he figured he could last another year or two.
Bicker with Dang Mujin over trivialities, then head to an inn for dinner, pairing greasy dishes with drinks.
Dan Seolyeong would eye him cautiously before quietly reaching for her chopsticks. Even knowing he could order one or two more dishes without issue, she never took the initiative to call for them.
Wandering the world like that, he might someday cross paths with Hong Geolgae again.
It struck him as nice to tease Hong Geolgae into joining the four of them on a journey across the land. Even better if they met Manryeokseung and made it five.
He pictured the five of them on the southern coast, in Guangxi or Guangdong.
They could even board a ship and sail to Hainan Island. Trudging through the skin-cutting blizzard, the Weird Robes imagined the warm shores of Hainan.
Failing that, northern Inner Mongolia. Or east to Jilin or Liaoning.
The Central Plains were vast, full of sights. So much he wanted to show those young fools—or his friend holed up in Shaolin Temple, ignorant of the world.
At that point in his reverie, the Weird Robes halted, letting out a sigh he longed to suppress.
He realized anew that lingering attachments had bloomed like wildflowers in his barren life.
After sending off his wife and daughter, the young father had lost all zest for living.
Death today or tomorrow—it didn't matter.
He wanted to die but didn't, so he lived.
Yet to stay alive required some purpose. The young father set a goal and clung to it alone to carry on.
With no regrets even if he dropped dead that instant—and convinced it wouldn't be long—he lived without a care for others' eyes.
But now his thinking had changed. Regrets crept in: *I should have been a bit more cautious.*
Yes, just enough to avoid the assassins latching on—or to keep his poison core intact.
*...All pointless thoughts.*
The Weird Robes sighed deeply and trudged northeast through the blizzard once more.
He had to move briskly while the snow erased his tracks to stand a chance of reaching Huizhou.
*
He couldn't recall how many days he'd gone without proper sleep.
His mind was hazy, yet his legs kept moving. It felt like his upper and lower body were detached.
At some point, the Weird Robes sensed presences.
Looking up, five assassins stood blocking his path.
He'd encountered Assassin Veil members plenty of times before. But this was the first time they'd boldly barred his way like this.
*Guess my condition looks that dire.*
None appeared particularly weak. They all seemed to have surpassed the peak wall. Even in top shape, victory would have been unlikely.
"Quite the lavish hospitality. How much is on my head?"
As always, no reply came. The assassins silently drew their blades and lowered into stances.
The Weird Robes grumbled.
"...Brats. After tailing me this far, normal courtesy calls for introductions at least."
The Weird Robes drew a deep breath.
Just as he'd lived despite wanting to die, there are moments when you want to live but can't.
This was one such moment.
At the fight's outset, the Weird Robes unleashed his base power and lunged forward, thrusting his sword.
Pierce. The simplest, lightning-swift stab.
One assassin's throat was impaled in a single strike.
The stabbed assassin goggled like a street thug, an amusing sight.
"What? Didn't expect True Origin Qi from the first move?"
If inner power was water in a vessel, True Origin Qi was the vessel itself.
Once shattered, it poured out everything until nothing remained.
Unlike inner power, True Origin Qi couldn't be rebuilt or recovered. Touch it once, and it was gone.
Using True Origin Qi meant certain death, as sure as a severed neck or pierced heart—which was why most martial artists never resorted to it until their dying breath.
The four surviving assassins simultaneously assumed defensive postures.
Their intent was clear: wait for the Weird Robes' strength to fail.
"Yeah, I figured as much."
This time, the Weird Robes charged the assassins.
True Origin Qi held immense power. But wielding it didn't overcome overwhelming odds.
One sword thrust met four blocking it; focus ahead, and a blade flew from behind to scatter his attention.
The assassins avoided direct clashes, fixating obsessively on defense.
As the fight dragged on, new wounds accumulated on the Weird Robes' body. At some point, his forearm was deeply slashed; his right hand could no longer grip a fist.
Blood loss was excessive. Soon his movements slowed to the pace of a novice warrior. Even swinging his sword all day, he saw no chance of taking company into death.
Anyone else would have given up and lain down to die, but the Weird Robes gripped his sword in his left hand and persisted stubbornly.
Then, at one moment, the Weird Robes sheathed his sword. And laughed.
"Haha, hahaha!"
Wary of some sudden outburst, the assassins tightened their defenses further. No need to rush against a man who would die if they just waited.
"You don't get why I'm laughing, do you?"
The Weird Robes pointed his left index finger at the assassin directly ahead.
The one closest, who'd clashed blades longest.
"You should've felt it by now. Die."
The pointed assassin staggered as if invisibly beheaded, then collapsed limply. The rest couldn't comprehend what had happened.
"Fools. Did you think I'd waste True Origin Qi just to stab one throat at the fight's start? My life ain't that cheap."
The poison core resided in the dantian. Inner power enveloped it like a shell.
Damage the dantian or scatter the inner power, and the toxin's aura inevitably leaked.
The fastest ways to scatter inner power: ram a blade into the lower abdomen to shatter the dantian, or use True Origin Qi to break the vessel.
Only then did the assassins grasp his intent.
They finally detected the faint toxin seeping through his pores and acupoints.
Up to now, he'd been leaking accumulated toxin, slowly poisoning them. Concealed by the blizzard, blood, and black robes, they'd noticed too late—a fatal error.
The assassins tried to leap back swiftly.
But their bodies felt unnaturally heavy. They'd blamed the blizzard's chill and long pursuit for the sluggishness, but that wasn't the truth.
Stiffening rigidly, the assassins slumped to the ground.
"Foolish indeed. Once you'd confirmed the toxin had seeped in fatally, I let you know."
The Weird Robes slowly walked among them. Steeped in the thickening toxin, the assassins died one by one.
Moving amid misty toxin, he resembled death incarnate more than a man.
Confirming the five assassins' deaths, the Weird Robes looked around.
Far off, a shadowy figure lurked.
An Assassin Veil scout. One who never joined fights, no matter what. Fleeing at the slightest approach.
The Weird Robes thought it resembled a crow awaiting corpses.
He checked his condition. The toxin hadn't dispersed solely outward—it permeated his body too.
Hearing and smell were gone; touch lingered only as faint numbness.
He scanned around. Not far off stood a snow-blanketed walnut tree.
His vision was too blurred to be sure, but somehow, he felt it was.
He took half a shichen to cover the mere hundred paces.
Then, leaning against the walnut tree, he sat and exhaled.
"Hoo..."
Finally, the Weird Robes expelled every last drop of his remaining toxin.
His poison core emptied, blackening the white snowfield.
Potent enough to kill anyone who approached.
Even the assassin scout wouldn't dare come near.
The Weird Robes fiddled with the book in his bosom.
*Did they see me take the Poison Construction Manual?*
Who knew.
The aftermath was purely up to fate. If Dang Mujin was lucky, he'd claim this book too.
A fleeting thought crossed his mind: *Should I not have burdened him with this debt?*
Was it right to impose his dreams on a youth full of his own?
*No, too late now.*
The Weird Robes ceased his thoughts.
Sleep overtook him. At some point, he no longer felt the cold.
Now even open eyes saw nothing.
Belatedly, the Weird Robes closed them.
Huizhou's walnut tree appeared, along with his wife and daughter.