Chapter 15
“Release the acupoint block first before we continue, won’t you?”
Though unable to move, Lee Seon had already regained consciousness.
He had overheard the entire conversation just now.
“Can’t handle that one thing yourself? You’ve still got a long way to go.”
Lee Jeong-gwang moved his hand lightly.
“Don’t move.”
Ugh.
Lee Seon tried to sit up but immediately clutched his chest.
“Oh, really.”
Lee Jeong-gwang smirked.
Lee Seon glared at him with a face twisted in pain.
“Talking as if I were on my deathbed! That’s just embarrassing for someone healthy to hear.”
“Sometimes, shock therapy is more effective than sugar-coating the truth.”
For an ordinary person, consuming poison would have meant inevitable intoxication.
If not, the aftereffects of forcibly opening the dantian would have left him disabled or dead on the spot.
Had Lee Seon been just an average person, that’s undoubtedly what would have happened.
Lee Jeong-gwang scratched his ear nonchalantly.
“Just because you’re fine doesn’t erase the debt. Even if it means little to you, it’s a remarkable feat by general standards.”
To be this unaffected by consuming poison was truly preposterous.
“For the few days I observed her, she didn’t seem the type to ignore a debt.”
“The Tang Clan folks are trustworthy. They repay kindness twice over and grudges tenfold. But a token always beats a verbal promise.”
Lee Jeong-gwang knew the Murim’s ways far better than most.
“Who knows? Maybe this little favour will save your life one day.”
“It would be better if my life were never in danger.”
Lee Jeong-gwang pulled the token with the Tang Clan emblem from his sleeve and tossed it to him.
“She said to give this to you.”
Lee Seon caught it and pocketed it.
“How are you feeling?”
While he still looked pale, he didn’t seem to have any major issues.
Anyone else might have been heaping praise on Lee Jeong-gwang, marvelling, “Truly, a Divine Doctor!”
But even without him, Lee Seon would have recovered quickly.
Grimacing, Lee Seon placed a hand on his chest.
“The pain isn’t going away.”
At that, Lee Jeong-gwang punched him lightly on the head.
“Who told you to go and do something so ridiculous as consume poison?”
Lee Jeong-gwang chuckled in disbelief.
“You’re probably the first person to get poisoned after learning the Flame Emperor’s Thousand Poisons Art.”
The Flame Emperor’s Thousand Poisons Art was a highly unique martial art.
With enough intent, one could detoxify any poison in the body, or even transform the toxicity into inner power.
In martial arts, poison always posed a latent risk.
Even the most formidable martial artists would struggle to maintain their full strength if poisoned.
It was no wonder the Sichuan Tang Clan was shunned even within the orthodox sects.
But a martial art that could eliminate the risk of poison entirely?
It was something every martial artist would covet.
Of course, it had its drawbacks.
The complexity of the technique made it exceedingly difficult to master.
But the most significant drawback was this:
Only those with an extreme yang constitution could learn it.
Finding someone fit to learn it was a challenge in itself.
People with energy heavily leaning toward yang or yin typically had short lives.
Even if such a person were found and cured, they might lack the talent to master the art.
If it were a martial art that anyone could master to become immune to poison, it would have been called a divine skill.
Its difficulty in transmission meant it had been lost for generations, until it was revived.
He had always intended to pass it on if he ever found someone suitable.
That someone had turned out to be Lee Seon.
And yet, the moment he turned his back, the fool had nearly died from self-administered poison.
Incredibly, he chose not to detoxify it to preserve its effects.
“If I ever hear you say I taught you, I’ll be embarrassed! What kind of nonsense is this, claiming to be a student of the Divine Doctor?”
Lee Seon had his own thoughts on that.
“If I hadn’t done that, I would have died.”
“If you’re weak in the Murim, then you’re better off dead.”
Lee Seon retorted irritably.
“If you hadn’t left, I wouldn’t have had to take poison in the first place.”
That demonic martial artist was terrifyingly strong, but it would have been different if the old man had been there.
The strongest person he knew was none other than Lee Jeong-gwang.
“……”
On that point, Lee Jeong-gwang didn’t have much to say.
He hadn’t expected any trouble while he was away.
He had left stringent defenses around the area, just in case.
“Did you see it?”
He was referring to Wi Yu-gi’s corpse.
Lee Jeong-gwang nodded.
“Ugliest fellow I’ve ever seen.”
“He was ugly to begin with, but he got even worse from his rampage.”
Lee Jeong-gwang sighed.
“That’s how all demonics are. They can’t control their power and end up self-destructing. It’d be nice if they could just go quietly, but even their dying is chaotic.”
Lee Seon pulled a memory from his mind.
“He went by the name Wi Yu-gi.”
“I’d heard of him long ago. Figured he’d kicked the bucket when there was no more news of him.”
He had already examined Wi Yu-gi’s corpse.
It was easy to determine how he had died and what martial arts he had practiced.
The real question was why the Blood Sect’s lackey had ended up here.
“What did he say he came here for?”
“He said he was after Tang Ha-ryeong.”
“Did he now.”
Lee Jeong-gwang’s nonchalant response left Lee Seon feeling that something was amiss.
“You already knew?”
Lee Jeong-gwang gave him a dismissive look.
“What other reason would the Blood Sect’s demonic come to this remote place? They weren’t here to gather venomous creatures.”
Lee Jeong-gwang’s expression darkened.
“Looks like the Blood Sect’s going to make a move soon.”
Lee Seon’s eyes opened halfway in dull realization.
“Are you planning to go and stop them?”
But Lee Jeong-gwang waved his hand, dismissing the idea as absurd.
“I have too much to do to waste my energy tussling with Blood Sect scoundrels. Do you think the Murim Alliance was formed for nothing? It exists to prevent major disasters in times of crisis.”
Lee Seon let out a sigh of relief.
“Well, that’s good to hear.”
He spoke as if indifferent, but Lee Seon knew the old man often rushed to save people.
“Worry about yourself instead. You’re weak because you haven’t trained properly in martial arts.”
“You said I’m not weak, though?”
He remembered how the old man once told him that even in the Murim, being at his level meant he could hold his head high.
Lee Jeong-gwang gave him a look filled with disappointment.
“I’ve always told you: the stronger you are in the world of martial arts, the more you draw danger toward yourself, and even those around you get swept up in it. If you don’t want to regret it later, then become stronger.”
“So, if I stay weak, I’ll avoid dangerous situations?”
“You’ll encounter less danger, not none. A master beyond your expectations might appear and threaten your life, as happened this time. Surely, you must have learned something from this.”
Having an inner power heavily leaning toward one trait implied an exceptional innate talent for certain martial arts.
“Please, stop slacking off and make some effort.”
Lee Jeong-gwang spoke gravely, looking serious, which made Lee Seon frown.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m not leaving just yet. I’ll go in a few days.”
As Lee Jeong-gwang stood up to leave the room, Lee Seon called out.
“Grandfather.”
That made Lee Jeong-gwang stop in his tracks.
“How strong do I need to become to go out into the world?”
This wasn’t something he’d usually ask.
Lee Jeong-gwang’s expression twisted subtly.
‘Is it because of that girl?’
Lee Seon had never shown interest in anything beyond handling poisons.
The only reason for his sudden change in attitude was the young woman who introduced herself as Tang Ha-ryeong.
It seemed clear that meeting her had sparked some change within him.
A faint smile crossed Lee Jeong-gwang’s lips.
“You should be able to withstand an hour against the Human-Faced Spider.”
An hour, not even a moment?
Lee Seon’s face darkened.
“This is going to be tough.”
As Lee Jeong-gwang left, Lee Seon took a deep breath.
Hoo…
He endured the pain as he began circulating his inner power.
The Flame Emperor’s Thousand Poisons Art.
A legendary martial art said to have been invented by Shen Nong, known as the Flame Emperor in Chinese mythology.
The intense yang inner energy flowed through his meridians, burning away any poison within his body.
According to legend, the Flame Emperor was the god of medicine, who identified and named countless herbs.
Despite consuming numerous poisonous herbs, he survived because of this very skill.
After completing a full cycle of energy circulation, a faint heat flickered in Lee Seon’s eyes.
There were times when life in the mountains felt tedious.
Sometimes he grew curious about the world outside, but merely observing and helping those who ventured into the mountains had been enough.
Had he not met Tang Ha-ryeong, had he not almost died fighting a demon, he might have spent his entire life in these mountains.
The world outside, as the old man described, was full of interesting things yet riddled with danger.
The old man was right.
I need to become stronger.
…And to do that, there’s something I absolutely have to do.
For others, it might not matter, but for Lee Seon, Hyeokmun Mountain was the perfect training ground.
Simply picking a random poisonous herb nearby and circulating his internal technique would increase his inner power.
The stronger the toxicity, the greater the inner power he gained.
The only problem was that the more toxic it was, the worse it tasted.
He hadn’t felt a need to consume poison for strength before, but now things were different.
Creak.
The door opened.
Lee Jeong-gwang entered, carrying a bubbling bowl of pitch-black medicinal decoction.
“What did you bring?”
Lee Seon looked at the decoction with disbelief.
“Can’t you tell by looking? It’s death medicine.”
It was good that it was potent, but he hadn’t expected him to actually bring a deathly brew.
“Aren’t you going to drink it?”
Haah.
“I’ll drink it, I’ll drink it.”
The path to becoming strong was harsher than he had imagined.
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