Chapter 95
Chapter 95
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 95
Chapter Title: People on the Cliff
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Upon hearing it was Wudang Sect swordsmanship, Dang Mujin began observing the situation even more intently.
The three bandits were between forty and fifty years old.
Their appearance wasn't much different from other bandits. Leather clothes made from roughly tanned hides, unkempt and filthy hair and beards from lack of proper care.
But their fighting style was something else entirely.
More than half of the seven bandits were using unusual weapons, as bandits often did.
A cleaver with saw-like teeth, a sickle enlarged twofold, a sturdy-looking iron club, and even one wielding claw blades that protruded like knife-edged nails.
Lacking confidence in their own martial arts and swordsmanship, they sought to exploit openings with weapons unfamiliar to their opponents.
It was a common tactic among many bandits, and one that often worked quite well.
In contrast, the three bandits using Wudang sword techniques wielded plain swords. Swords so ordinary and unadorned that no further description was needed.
Their martial arts differed greatly as well. The seven bandits' techniques were crude, domineering, and aggressive, clearly intent on piercing their foes' throats given any chance.
Meanwhile, the three facing them parried every assault with defensive yet fluid swordplay. Yet, there was no killing intent in their blades.
"It's a bit strange. It doesn't feel like they're attacking with their swords—more like shoving with their shoulders or palms."
"The leader's roughly... first-rate, at least?"
"Seems like it."
On the other hand, the seven bandits battling the three were at best second-rate or third-rate.
Three men in a defensive stance were herding seven others along. It was an odd way to put it, but no other description fit the scene.
The ones feeling the skill gap most acutely weren't Dang Mujin or Namgung Myeong, but the seven bandits.
However, the emotions on their faces weren't fear or terror—it was irritation.
"Damn it... enough, enough! We surrender!"
The bandit with the cleaver shouted, and as if by magic, the fight stopped. He seemed to hold the highest rank among the seven.
The three using Wudang swordsmanship crossed their arms and stared down the seven. The seven, apparently no strangers to this, casually set their weapons on the ground and placed their hands behind their heads.
The three weaved between the seven, collecting spoils. Nothing impressive—just some snacks and a bit of money.
They poked at the seven's clothing and furs. The defeated bandits stripped without complaint.
Finally, the three took a fairly thick iron rod. It was one bandit's weapon.
Its owner grumbled.
"Elders of the Old Army Three Swords. Weren't you not taking weapons?"
"We would have for ordinary ones. But this looks useful in all sorts of ways."
From the looks of it, this wasn't the first time the bandits called Old Army Three Swords had fleeced others of their valuables.
The Old Army Three Swords meticulously checked for more loot, then patted the seven on the backs. They didn't forget a parting word.
"You know how to get them back, right?"
The seven nodded once, then left with shit-kicking grimaces.
It was bizarre in every way.
Bandits who had mastered Wudang swordsmanship, a few triumphing over many.
Defensive swordplay pushing back the aggressive, bandits robbing bandits.
Not even a single injury, and they seemed willing to return the taken goods.
Dang Mujin muttered.
"Can't even guess what's going on."
"Maybe it's some Old Army Mountain tradition game?"
"That's nonsense."
"Just kidding."
At that moment, the Old Army Three Swords, having gathered all the loot, scanned their surroundings. Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong simultaneously suppressed their presence, as if on cue.
No telling how things might play out, but crossing paths wouldn't end well. If they robbed even fellow bandits, they might jump them for Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong's baggage.
Fortunately, the Old Army Three Swords didn't detect them.
Namgung Myeong's stealth was top-notch by any measure, and Dang Mujin had picked up a decent grasp from traveling with him.
The Old Army Three Swords bundled up the spoils and departed.
Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong waited until they were completely gone before rising and resuming their trek.
*
He knew which direction to go.
The problem was navigating sheer cliffs, towering peaks, and precarious ledges instead of flat paths.
Finding the way was tough, and they'd often hit dead ends after going well, forcing backtracks—not just once or twice.
But Dang Mujin had no complaints.
No, he was beyond content—he was thrilled.
"That looks like alpinia. Hold on a sec."
"Again?"
"First time seeing alpinia grown this well. Usually knee-high, but that's past waist level."
Alpinia was named for its white flowers. The leaves and stems were edible, but its true value lay in the roots.
Alpinia's roots were called white atractylodes, heavenly atractylodes, superior atractylodes, and such. Especially effective for poor urination, and great for relieving abdominal bloating.
When Dang Mujin returned with thick alpinia roots, Namgung Myeong clicked his tongue.
"I don't know herbs well, but I know alpinia roots aren't that pricey."
"They aren't for ordinary alpinia. But ones this fine? First I've seen."
"You're loaded. Why not just buy them?"
"Stuff this good is hard to buy even with money."
"Can't wrap my head around it. Sure, it's nicer, but not by leaps and bounds. And it's not like there aren't better herbs out there."
Namgung Myeong's point was fair. But Dang Mujin was a physician by nature, so he couldn't help seeing it differently. This was emotion, not logic.
"Imagine the world's greatest master finding a brand-new manual on the road. Even if he's mastered supreme arts, could he just ignore it?"
"...He'd at least read it."
"Exactly. This pulls at you instinctively."
Namgung Myeong sighed deeply. Dang Mujin's pack was overflowing, and even his own was bursting at the seams.
"Still no. No space left. We should dump some."
"I know. This was really the last one."
Yet not even a moment later, another jaw-dropping sight unfolded.
"Isn't that ginseng?"
"...Ginseng?"
He scrambled over, dug it up, and sure enough—a small ginseng.
Its intense, bittersweet aroma spread disproportionately to its size. Namgung Myeong dusted off the dirt and grinned.
"No room, so we'll eat it here. You want it?"
Dang Mujin shook his head. Namgung Myeong popped the whole thing in his mouth without hesitation.
The legend of Emperor Yan Shennong rooting here must hold truth—Old Army Mountain grew all sorts of herbs.
Not just that tiny ginseng or century-old morinda roots that were too potent for mere herbs yet shy of spirit medicines—plenty of them.
And that wasn't all.
"Ow!"
Turning back, he saw Namgung Myeong clutching his ankle.
Something long and black slithered away behind him. A snake.
Dang Mujin approached with a pleased smile and gripped the ankle.
The venom seeping into Namgung Myeong's body was sucked into Dang Mujin's fingertips, absorbed naturally by the poison pill.
Old Army Mountain teemed with poisons too. Snakes, venomous insects, toxic butterflies, poisonous plants.
A nightmare for most, but a delight for Dang Mujin.
"Should stay on Old Army Mountain much longer. A few months... no, a year even."
"Before talking years, let's find a village to crash in."
Namgung Myeong grumbled as he stood. Dang Mujin grew more proactive in searching for a path.
But a changed mindset didn't conjure paths where none appeared.
He was just wandering with more enthusiasm.
'No path again.'
Another dead end.
Knowing the direction but not the way was more frustrating than expected.
"East should lead to a village."
After much wandering, Namgung Myeong proposed as if resolved.
"Why not just push east boldly?"
"I want to. But no path."
"Let's climb down the cliff."
Dang Mujin peered below the cliff. At least several dozen feet.
But after seeing hundred-foot drops, this felt manageable—maybe climbable. The slope was gentler here, if slight.
'No. Climbing cliffs to avoid path-hunting is stupid.'
Just frustration talking, not serious. As Dang Mujin pondered refusal, Namgung Myeong added,
"Guess it's pretty scary."
That did it.
Male pride ignites in odd spots and spirals uncontrollably.
Worse, they were too young—prime age for bravado and baseless confidence. Dang Mujin's ego soared sky-high.
"Scary? Just scouting holds and footholds."
"Right?"
"Of course. Follow me down."
"Follow? I'll go first—use my holds and steps. Got it?"
"Don't veer off course, just move aside."
"Tch. Don't be stubborn."
After bickering, Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong clambered down the cliff without further word.
Bravely.
*
"..."
But bravery rarely solves problems. The cliff from above and up close were worlds apart.
They descended midway and stalled. No more handholds or footholds.
Couldn't go down, so up again? Not appealing.
Climbing back gripping tiny outcrops meant risking life. One loose rock, and it was over.
They sidled precariously to a small rocky ledge. Stable enough, but too narrow for even sitting, let alone lying.
"...What now?"
Namgung Myeong asked. Dang Mujin dodged answering.
At least they both knew they were idiots—no ego clashes.
"Baa-aah."
A mountain goat's cry echoed from the opposite cliff. A sheer-face climber appeared.
Steeper than theirs, scant footholds.
Yet the goat strolled the cliff like flat ground.
It stared at Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong, bleating as if mocking.
Namgung Myeong spoke, resolved.
"Good idea hit me."
"What?"
"Create a lightness skill mimicking that goat's gait and escape this cliff."
Foolish suggestion, yet tempting.
Murim tales always had masters inventing new arts to escape peril.
As they silently watched the goat, an eagle swooped, pecking it. The goat twisted, bleated mournfully, and plummeted.
"Baa-aahhh..."
The fading cry dashed hopes of goat-inspired lightness skills.
Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong racked brains to overcome this. How to survive?
Then, faint footsteps above the cliff.
"Felt that?"
"Human voice just now?"
Without thinking, they yelled upward.
"Help!"
"People down on the cliff!"
After much shouting, a face peeked over. Eerily familiar—the Old Army Three Swords from earlier.
The round-faced one yelled.
"Who are you, stuck there?"
"...Lost our way!"
"Lost it in a hell of a spot. Need help?"
Music to their ears. Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong cast pride aside, nodding frantically.
"Yes! Could you pull us up?"
"Sure, if the price is right."
"Price?"
"You two look loaded with gear. Promise it all, and up you come."
No room to haggle. Namgung Myeong agreed instantly.
"Deal!"
"Luggage first. Rope's coming down—tie it on."
A rope descended. But Dang Mujin hesitated to bind their packs.
Hand over valuables trusting Old Army Three Swords? They might bolt.
Dang Mujin unpacked, holding up his money pouch high for them to see. Funds from the market.
"See the gold? You'll get it after!"
"Fine! Tie the packs!"
No hesitation in their reply.
Gaining slight trust, Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong secured their packs to the rope. The Old Army Three Swords hauled them up.
"We'll check the gear—hang tight!"
No choice anyway.
"Yes! As quick as you can!"
Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong fidgeted, ears straining for snippets above.
"Pretty heavy. How much herb you hoarding?"
"Not just premium—half junk. Not herb gatherers."
"Nah, looks like it. All decent quality."
"Maybe... Hey, this pack's got two night suits? Suspicious."
"Eh, what's this?"
"What?"
"Herbs. Not wild-picked. Processed ones. What're they called."
"Medicated?"
"Yeah, medicated herbs?"
Silence, then a face peeked out.
"You! The one with processed herbs in the bag!"
"Yes!"
Dang Mujin replied swiftly. The Old Army Three Swords asked again.
"You're no herb gatherer? Why bring processed herbs here?"
"I'm not a gatherer—I'm a physician!"
"Physician? What’s one doing here?"
"Physicians seek patients—what else?"
Dang Mujin shouted. The Old Army Three Swords exchanged odd looks, then asked again.
"Terms changed! No money or goods. Treat patients instead!"
"Bandits?"
"No. Folks who've never touched a weapon!"
Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong intuited: the 'people' were the villagers Ha Ryeong asked him to treat.
"Of course we'll treat them!"
"Regardless of status?"
"Yes! A patient's a patient—what's status matter?"
Dang Mujin reaffirmed, but they seemed unconvinced.
Then, the round-faced one dropped a bombshell.
"Even if they're rebels?"