Chapter 158
The man grinned from ear to ear as though he had discovered something fascinating, and my heart dropped.
A Demonic Sect member.
He knew Yeon Ryang.
“You have the wrong man.”
Yeon Ryang answered flatly, but the red-haired man only smirked.
“The wrong man? As if I wouldn’t recognize you. But what happened to you? You’re a complete wreck. Did you pick up some garbage medicine off the ground and swallow it?”
“I said you were mistaken. Leave.”
“How disappointing, Wraith. I wonder how all those fellows who worship you would react if they saw you like this. Number Seventy-One practically thinks you’re a god. Heh. You don’t seem pleased to see me, so I’ll stop pretending we know each other.”
The man let out an unpleasant chuckle, patted Yeon Ryang twice on the shoulder, and stepped away.
We could not simply let him leave. I could not allow even the possibility that word of Yeon Ryang might reach the Demonic Sect.
I swallowed hard and quickly calculated the direction of the wind.
An ordinary paralysis poison would not be enough. I would need something lethal and aim for a fatal acupoint—
“Sohae.”
Yeon Ryang shook his head, warning me not to do it.
[You cannot draw the Divine Sect’s attention. If anyone acts, it will be me.]
But...!
Ignoring my protesting expression, Yeon Ryang turned away and discreetly swallowed one of the antidotes we had prepared in advance.
[Even missions from the Sect have rules. That bastard will not draw his sword recklessly in front of this many witnesses. Pretend you know nothing and stay still.]
At Yeon Ryang’s sound transmission, I tightened and loosened my grip on the hidden weapon, trying to calm my nerves.
I turned toward the fighting platform and pretended to be composed, but all my attention remained fixed on the Demonic Sect member. I could not focus on the match at all.
Now that I realized the nameless man’s energy was demonic qi, I understood anew just how perfectly Yeon Ryang had concealed his own.
I spent nearly every waking hour beside him, yet I had never felt anything like this nauseating sensation.
Cane seemed to find the foul energy just as repulsive. Curled in Jang Miryeo’s arms, it slapped its tail against her in displeasure.
The red-haired man stared at Yeon Ryang for a long moment before finally disappearing from sight.
Once that sinister energy vanished, my pounding heart gradually returned to its normal rhythm. I slowly relaxed the hand clutching my hidden weapon.
My palm was drenched in sweat.
Now I finally understood why the poison flowing through Jang Miryeo’s body had felt so unfamiliar.
Of course I had never seen it before. It was poison from the Demonic Sect. Grandfather was probably the only person I knew who had ever handled anything like it.
Did Jang Hojung even understand what he had invited into his home?
If he was made to swallow a parasite, he would spend the rest of his life trapped in the Demonic Sect’s grasp.
My insides boiled at the stupidity of a man so blinded by greed that he had strapped kindling to his back and leaped into a fire.
Jang Hojung’s choice was no different from offering every member of the Golden Dragon Trading Company to the Demonic Sect as a pawn.
GOOONG!
The great gong reverberated through the grounds. I shook my head and cleared away the distracting thoughts.
The next match was already about to begin.
“Let the match begin!”
At the middle-aged announcer’s shout, Jang Hojung crossed his legs, adjusted his posture, and addressed Jang Hoyeol.
“Brother, that young man is one of the most promising talents at the Golden Scale Pavilion. His name is Baekrim. Once I began teaching him, I discovered that he also had considerable martial talent. What do you think? Would he not make a fine match for Miryeo?”
“Ahem.”
Jang Hojung’s smile remained unchanged despite his brother’s displeased response. He appeared completely certain that his subordinate would win.
I narrowed my eyes at the two men standing on the fighting platform.
Which one is Baekrim?
Both had thick, bristling beards and looked considerably older than Jang Miryeo.
How could men with faces like those rush forward hoping to marry a young lady barely past fifteen? Did neither of them possess a conscience?
The instant their swords collided, Cane made a bizarre sound of delight.
“Kyaruk! Kyaruk!”
“Oh my. What is it? Are you hungry? Would you like a treat?”
Jang Miryeo whispered in confusion.
At that moment, the swordsman with a headband tied across his brow flinched and froze in place.
Cold sweat beaded across his face.
So that one is Baekrim.
Baekrim had looked ready to cut his opponent down in a single stroke. When he suddenly stopped moving, murmurs spread through the audience.
“Did he suffer an internal injury?”
“They did not seem to clash that hard...”
I raised my chin and pretended not to notice anything.
Perhaps it was the satisfaction of seeing my timing work perfectly, but one corner of my mouth crept upward.
At that exact moment, a tremendous sound erupted from Baekrim’s stomach.
“What was that?”
“Did anyone else hear thunder?”
“I-I forfeit!”
Baekrim shouted desperately, leaped down from the fighting platform, and vanished into the crowd in a frantic rush.
Jang Hojung’s face twisted savagely as he watched his subordinate flee after surrendering.
I adjusted the dose so he wouldn’t spring a leak. Was it still a little too strong?
I smacked my lips and mentally reviewed the proportions of the poison.
Beside me, Yeon Ryang frowned and called my name in a low voice.
“Sohae. You.”
“Hmm? What?”
“Are you going to keep doing this?”
“Doing what?”
I put on my most innocent expression and tilted my head. Yeon Ryang muttered with a troubled look.
“...I should never have let you meet that Beopgong fellow. You keep learning only the worst things from him. I cannot simply let this go anymore.”
Then he grabbed my cheek and stretched it.
“Ow, ow! It hurts, Brother!”
“It is supposed to hurt. Keep behaving like some underworld rogue, and your brother will punish you.”
Master Beopgong belongs to the orthodox faction, and he still goes around raising hell. Besides, what is wrong with a poison user using poison?
I wanted to protest, but Yeon Ryang’s stern expression suggested that talking back would only earn me a harsher scolding.
Watching him carefully, I rubbed my stinging cheek. Fortunately, he did not seem inclined to press the matter any further. He folded his arms and turned back toward the fighting platform.
The next match paired Yang Gyojin against a white-haired old man with a nicked sword hanging at his waist.
He must have been the old man the maids had mentioned.
No! This old man has absolutely no shame! He looks older than Jang Miryeo’s father!
Yang Gyojin also seemed startled by his age. Her eyes widened as she asked,
“Excuse me, sir. Do you use that sword as a walking stick? Can you walk without it?”
“What? You little whelp! How dare you insult me!”
Anyone who knew Yang Gyojin would have realized that it was an entirely sincere question.
The old man, of course, had no way of knowing that.
Enraged, he drew his sword and charged at her.
“Oh. You run quite well. Your knees must still be healthy.”
“You—! I’ll tear that insolent mouth apart!”
“And your voice is strong too. You’re going to live a very long life, sir.”
Of every martial artist I had met, she might have been the best at infuriating people.
The most impressive part was that she did it without a trace of malice.
I shrugged and turned my attention to Yang Gyojin’s sword.
Her blade flowed through the air like water. At times, it resembled a flexible sword bending smoothly around its target. At others, it became a spear thrusting forward with piercing sharpness.
At first, it seemed calm and slow. Then it gradually accelerated until, before her opponent realized it, the rhythm of his breathing had been shattered.
It was an extremely difficult sword style to face.
I rubbed my chin and followed Yang Gyojin’s sword path with my eyes.
As I imagined how I would defend myself if that blade were pointed at me, my fingertips kept twitching.
I need to fight her properly sometime.
Perhaps out of respect for the elderly, Yang Gyojin used only the back of her blade. She evaded the old man’s attacks for a while, then lightly kicked him in the shin and dropped him to his knees.
“Yang Gyojin of the Yang Family Estate wins!”
A smile blossomed across Jang Miryeo’s face when the result was announced.
She seemed profoundly relieved that she would not have to marry the white-haired old man.
The matches that followed were not merely ordinary. They were downright modest.
They looked less like martial contests than fights between local street thugs.
Even Jang Hoyeol, who had stubbornly remained in his seat, seemed to be finding it difficult to continue. He rose with a pallid face.
“Rest well, Brother. I will call on you this evening to inquire after your health.”
“There is no need to come.”
“Why say something so hurtful? I have many things I wish to discuss with you.”
“As you suggested, I intend to rest. Do not ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) bother me.”
Jang Hoyeol answered curtly and leaned on his cane. Unable to keep his balance, he swayed slightly.
Concern flooded Jang Miryeo’s eyes as she hurried to support him.
Yeon Ryang glanced at Jang Hojung’s numerous guards, then gave my back a light push, signaling that we should leave.
Is it really safe to walk away?
The uneasy feeling kept my feet rooted to the ground, but when it came to matters involving the Demonic Sect, I knew I should follow Yeon Ryang’s judgment.
Biting my lower lip, I forced myself to move.
*****
Upon returning to his residence, Jang Hoyeol opened his bedroom door, saying he intended to sleep for a while.
Then he collapsed unconscious on the spot.
For his daughter’s sake, he appeared to have driven his failing body far beyond its limits.
Physician Go, the trading company’s personal physician, clung to him and did everything he could, but it was useless.
Jang Hoyeol’s condition had already passed beyond the reach of ordinary medicine.
At this point, only a Taoist martial artist pouring a tremendous amount of pure internal energy into him might extend his life by a few days.
I withdrew to give Jang Miryeo time alone with her father.
Darkness had already settled over the residence, and the halls lay in silence.
Pretending not to hear Jang Miryeo crying, I fidgeted with my fingers before speaking to Yeon Ryang.
“Brother. About earlier...”
[You must never speak carelessly about matters involving the Sect.]
Damn it. I should have learned sound transmission sooner.
When I twisted my lips in frustration, Yeon Ryang chuckled and stroked my head.
[Do not overthink it. Remember how you wrapped internal energy around your throwing knife and your hand to bind them together? It is the same principle. Imagine wrapping your voice in internal energy. Then build the wall thick enough that no one but your brother can hear it.]
[How is that supposed to—huh? Did it work? Can you hear me?]
[You are doing well.]
[That man earlier. He was a Demonic Sect member, wasn’t he? We can’t let him report your whereabouts, can we?]
[This has become troublesome. What is a bastard who should be in Tianshan doing here?]
Yeon Ryang scratched his head, then added reassuringly,
[I will handle it, so do not worry. Nothing will happen.]
I was not reassured in the slightest.
I was about to ask whether we should not deal with him more decisively when Jang Miryeo screamed from inside the building.
“Brother, fire the signal flare! Now!”
I shouted the order and leaped through the window of the Trading Company Master’s bedroom.