The Nine Factions and the Beggar Clan
The collective term for the nine colossal sects and the Beggar Clan combined. There were many reasons the “Nine Factions” earned that name. Their powerful martial arts and exclusive secret ultimate techniques. Beyond that, they possessed diverse and profound mental cultivation methods. With histories stretching back centuries, their influence ran deep and their ranks brimmed with experts.
The Beggar Clan, however, was different. It wasn’t that they lacked high-level masters or legacy; rather, their nature as beggars made it inevitable that their overall standard fell noticeably short of the other nine. Yet ordinary people overlooked one crucial detail.
Information network. Beggars existed everywhere. Poor neighborhoods had them because they were poor; wealthy districts had them because the wealth drew beggars hoping for alms. Of course, that same “I heard it from somewhere” grapevine occasionally twisted the facts.
The Theory of the Hundred Thousand Beggar Clan Disciples. The number might have been ten thousand, but even the Hao Clan—an organization built on intelligence—had concluded that trying to count the Beggar Clan’s members was pointless. Beggars were still multiplying somewhere even now.
And the current buzz filling the non-martial tournament venue owed much of its volume to their efforts.
“Is Physician Dang Huiso of the Medical Hall present?”
The moment the referee spoke his name, Dang Huiso’s face, seated in a quiet corner of the spectator stands as he waited for the matches to begin, twisted into a scowl. An entirely unforeseen development. He had watched every one of his new disciple’s spars with interest, curious about the effects of the pill he had created, but this particular twist was unwelcome.
Kim Siin had succeeded in driving fierce Yang energy into a body saturated with Yin using the Kwaecheong-dan. Of course, the boy’s near Limitless Physique had played a larger role than the pill itself, but the medicine’s efficacy had still been proven.
‘Is he actually trying to mess with me?’
Dang Huiso had made it crystal clear to Kim Siin that he had zero intention of stepping onto the sparring stage. He had dismissed the whole thing as a joke and forgotten about it, yet now… he could see the beggars below ferrying information like swallows from a fairy tale.
Rumors began spreading through the mouths of the beggar disciples. While the claims that Kim Siin was “a simple person” and had “run something like clinical trials” weren’t entirely fabricated, the idea that he sought revenge against his own martial arts master was absurd no matter how you looked at it.
“Jeongmu Academy Medical Hall Physician Dang Huiso!”
At the referee’s shout, Dang Huiso’s gaze turned toward the sparring stage. There stood his brazen disciple, staring back with a solemn expression.
“Haa……”
A sigh slipped from Dang Huiso’s lips. The situation was irritating enough already. Still, because of everything he had fed the boy so far, he decided to play along just this once. The added annoyance of his inadequate disciple being branded a fool who had squandered a golden opportunity was simply a bonus.
After Dang Huiso’s name was announced, the spectators stared at the sparring stage in blank silence, as though bewitched. Looking at their faces, I could more or less understand the emotion behind those expressions.
‘Well, it makes sense.’
A single, priceless opportunity granted only to the champion of Jeongmu Academy’s non-martial tournament. What’s more, there was no guarantee they could win the tournament again even if they competed over the next three years. This chance to request a spar was worth its weight in gold.
Yet the opponent they had chosen was none other than the old man who brewed medicine at the Medical Hall.
The Hainan Sect’s elder had come. The Wudang Sect’s Sword of Wudang had come. The Huashan Sect’s pinnacle Plum Blossom Swordswoman had visited this place. So why?
Why, of all people, a physician?
And one from the Sichuan Tang Family at that…
“This… is awkward for me to ask, but I must confirm whether you are certain.”
The referee scanned Dang Huiso with his eyes as he spoke to me.
A slender, hunched frame with hands clasped behind his back. No matter how you looked, the light aura he gave off did not suggest a martial artist. Yet seeing that very appearance, I was able to nod confidently at the referee.
“Yes. I am certain.”
At the sight of Dang Huiso, I nearly burst out laughing. The Dang Huiso who had taught me was never a frail martial artist who looked like he needed preferential treatment for the elderly. He was an old man, yes, but he carried a spirit that discouraged casual treatment. His straight back proved he was a physician one could trust. And the vast well of knowledge and experience he had displayed while teaching me the Sichuan Tang Family’s Thunder-Chasing Footwork…
That’s right. This grandfather was currently acting, all for the sake of a dramatic reveal.
“Master.”
“What.”
When I called him, he answered curtly.
“Do you have anything to apologize to me for?”
“What nonsense is that?”
“No? Then never mind.”
“Tsk, tsk… how dull.”
Yet from that venomous expression I could faintly guess his thoughts.
During my entire stay at the Medical Hall, I had never once seen any of the academy’s students visit. This was an institution run by the righteous faction of Murim, a place to learn the use of weapons. The fact that no one came was strange enough on its own.
‘Not even funny.’
Only later did I learn why the academy’s students avoided Dang Huiso’s Medical Hall.
The reason was simple: they could not bring themselves to trust a physician from the Sichuan Tang Family.
As I later discovered, every student at Jeongmu Academy knew Dang Huiso’s origin. When injured, they sought treatment outside the academy. If they needed medicine, they left campus to have it prepared. Some even endured their pain in silence when supplies ran out.
‘All because of that damn martial art.’
There was no deeper reason. The righteous faction’s martial artists simply found the Sichuan Tang Family distasteful because their arts employed hidden weapons and poison. That was all. They had never experienced it firsthand, let alone learned the arts themselves. They had simply abandoned independent thought, accepting the common view without question.
‘Show them properly this time.’
I watched Dang Huiso as he blankly scanned the spectator seats. A former elder of the Sichuan Tang Family. Leader of the moderate faction and spiritual pillar of the Tang Family’s martial artists.
“Then we shall begin the spar… Do you require any specific weapon?”
At the referee’s question, Dang Huiso gave a small chuckle and nodded.
“Well, if I’m to discipline this impudent disciple, I suppose one sword will be necessary.”
At his words the referee gestured. A waiting martial artist brought a longsword of suitable length and offered it to him.
“Here you are.”
“My thanks.”
Shing.
Dang Huiso drew the blade lightly and inspected it. That was all. After a quick glance at me, he smiled faintly and returned the drawn sword to the referee—keeping only the scabbard.
“Thank you. This will suffice.”
The referee’s face creased with subtle displeasure. For an old man from the Sichuan Tang Family who merely resided at the Medical Hall, the gesture appeared both arrogant and strangely impressive.
“Are you truly… certain this will be enough?”
No matter how he thought about it, the referee clearly could not picture this old man standing against the late-stage expert who had displayed such overwhelming prowess earlier. Yet even when asked again, Dang Huiso’s answer remained unchanged.
“Work is piling up at the Medical Hall. I’d like to finish this soon.”
His response caused the spectators’ murmurs to swell. At first came cries that the physician must have lost his mind. Later, openly rude remarks flew freely. But the master standing before me was not a man who cared about such trivial noise.
“Damn disciple. Thanks to you, I get to have a valuable experience.”
“You honor me.”
“What a brazen child… Fine. Since we’ve come this far, I’ll show them properly. You haven’t forgotten what I taught you, have you?”
I nodded at Dang Huiso’s words and created distance. A tense moment. Before I realized it, my eyes were fixed on the referee’s hand that would signal the start of the match.
What I first learned from Dang Huiso was not how to defeat an opponent.
“To understand the Tang Family’s martial arts, the first thing you must know is that ‘hidden weapons are used from afar.’”
And poison is used up close.
What I learned after that was the Thunder-Chasing Footwork. Dang Huiso had taught it first because he did not want me—the subject of his pill experiments—to be struck by others.
But to master it, I had to endure his blows. I was hit again and again. Only after a long time could I barely avoid his bare hands.
The reason I’m telling you this is—
Swish!
Clang!
As Dang Huiso’s form shot forward like a tiger, I twisted my entire body to block the barrage of attacks.
“Oh? You blocked?”
Of course I would have preferred to dodge. If only I could have.
My body reacted before my mind could think. Dodging fists had already been difficult; avoiding a scabbard with extended reach was pure torture.
“Ugh!”
The moment I thought I had blocked, the scabbard flew in along a new path. If the weapon had possessed a blade, I would already be dead. That thought flashed through my mind, and with it came the memory of my final assigned task.
Master and Disciple – Valuable Research Material
Difficulty: A
Description: Sichuan Tang Family’s Dang Huiso has begun to grow curious about your achievements. Engage him in a spar. If you can endure ‘100’ or more exchanges against his sword, he will acknowledge you.
Mission: Endure ‘100’ or more exchanges in the spar with Dang Huiso.
Restrictions: Those who assisted in Dang Huiso’s research, Dang Huiso’s disciple.
Reward: Dang Huiso’s Acknowledgment / Acquisition of Sichuan Tang Family Martial Arts (D~A)
Failure Penalty: Dang Huiso’s Disappointment (Depending on the degree, Dang Huiso may destroy your dantian.)
I had felt uneasy the moment I received it, but it really was an A-rank mission.
“Hmm… You block well. As expected of the Limitless Physique?”
You have endured 20 exchanges.
A barrage of sword strikes poured down like a summer rainstorm. I barely blocked the now-slowing assault and shook my head to clear distracting thoughts.
‘It’s manageable.’
Thanks to the stats I had frantically raised with money, I believed I could endure. But perhaps that complacent thought had triggered a cliché.
Slowly.
An unfamiliar energy began to seep from Dang Huiso’s body.
“Disciple, the warm-up seems to be over.”
Dang Huiso was a martial artist of the Sichuan Tang Family. The sword was not his primary weapon.