Chapter 221

"Ah..."

I reached toward the sky as though entranced.

I wanted to touch it.

I wanted to reach that level.

The flawless trajectories stirred both admiration and greed within me.

I was seized by an overwhelming desire to read every one of those hundreds of attack patterns and reproduce them exactly.

Even after the flames covering the sky had vanished and the chirping of insects filled the air, my excitement refused to subside.

Grandfather watched quietly as I replayed the lingering images in my mind. Then, with a single gesture, he retrieved all the concealed weapons he had unleashed.

Only then did I come back to my senses, steady my breathing, and meet his eyes.

Grandfather asked calmly, "Did you see it?"

"Yes."

"Do you think you can reach that level?"

I couldn't give him a definite answer.

But I wanted to reach it.

After a moment's hesitation, I replied, "...I want to."

"Good."

Grandfather nodded as though that was all he needed to hear, then continued.

"As your teacher, I have no choice but to stand in your way."

"Yes."

"But as your teacher, I will also teach you."

"...What?"

"Sohae, you may be this old man's disciple, but apart from your inner cultivation method, you haven't learned a single thing properly. You'll have to start again from the beginning if you want to become a martial artist worthy of the name."

Perhaps it was his matter-of-fact tone. Perhaps it was the breeze brushing against my cheeks.

I couldn't quite comprehend what Grandfather was saying. Everything felt hazy, like a dream.

"You said you would rather die as a martial artist. Then prove that you are one. At the very least, you should be able to win the martial tournament."

I stood there in a daze, biting down hard on my lip.

Grandfather was trying to let me go, even though it was tearing him apart.

"Grandfather..."

"Don't say anything. I haven't given you permission yet. And don't even think about chasing after the Hao Sect and turning Chengdu upside down. You're forbidden from going out at night."

Grandfather answered gruffly, fixing me with a stern look.

But the expression lasted only a moment.

He sighed, stepped closer, and unwound the cotton cloth wrapped around my fingers.

After silently examining my fingertips, he gently patted the back of my hand.

I lowered my gaze to my hands.

Fresh skin was growing over every deep wound.

Number Fifty-Six tapped his fingers against the desk, his face twisted with displeasure.

His blood-red eyes settled on the empty chair.

More than an hour had passed since the monthly meeting began, yet the bastard still hadn't shown his face.

The arrogant brat's attitude was beginning to wear on his nerves.

Why did His Eminence have to bring someone like that into the fold?

He soothed his irritation by imagining himself cutting off the head of that insufferable Tang Clan whelp.

The eccentric who had approached them of his own accord, demanding access to the Myriad Poisons Sect's poisons.

The devil who secretly abducted innocent civilians and experimented on them, turning them into poison-infused human weapons while keeping his activities hidden from his family.

The madman who grew excited at the suffering of others.

There wasn't a single thing Number Fifty-Six liked about the bastard.

Nevertheless, he was undeniably useful.

As befitted a direct descendant of a martial clan that held tremendous influence throughout Sichuan, he could effortlessly handle matters that left the Cult's members scrambling.

But he was far too presumptuous.

The way he handed over money as though bestowing a favor, and the arrogance with which he carried himself, as though he belonged to an entirely different class of people, were almost more than Number Fifty-Six could stomach.

He ground his teeth.

Just then, he heard someone approaching along the corridor, humming to himself.

That arrogant little...

Swallowing the curse that had risen to his throat, Number Fifty-Six gestured toward the guard.

"Open it."

At his command, the martial guard stationed by the entrance opened the door.

A man wearing a black veiled hat sauntered inside, greeting them with exaggerated good humor.

"Well, well. I'm a little late. It's been difficult getting over the walls lately, what with my sister returning home as quite the celebrity."

His lips were curved in a pleasant smile, but the eyes visible through his veil were those of a madman.

The heavy stench of blood clung to his body. From the look of him, he'd been involved in quite a struggle somewhere.

It was better not to provoke him on days like this.

There was no telling when his foul mood might be turned against someone else.

Number Fifty-Six made a quick assessment and replied curtly.

"Sit."

The man shrugged, approached the empty chair, and sat down with his legs crossed.

Then he lifted his chin, gesturing for Number Fifty-Six to proceed.

The way he behaved as though he were a superior waiting for a report was infuriating, but Number Fifty-Six concealed his irritation and repeated what had already been discussed.

The man, however, clicked his tongue, apparently dissatisfied with what he heard.

"Oh, dear. What a disappointing state of affairs. How am I supposed to trust you enough to pursue our great undertaking together when you fail at every turn? Do you have any idea how much effort I've put into keeping the eyes and ears of my household occupied?"

"It is regrettable that the one immune to all poisons did not fall into your hands. However, did you not say you would handle matters within the Tang Clan yourself? The greater fault in this affair lies with you."

"You must also consider that the Poison King's seclusion ended much sooner than expected. If I'd had another year—no, even another six months—I could have settled everything without leaving a trace."

"I find that difficult to believe."

"My work was impeccable. I turned a name that inspired awe into one she was merely pretending to have a claim to. Everyone believed that the illegitimate daughter who'd been driven out of the clan was using her teacher's name to worm her way back into the family."

After voicing his complaint, the man rested his chin on his hand and smiled languidly.

"Well, I suppose it's fortunate that the Grand Elder took all the blame. I'd hoped he would keep everyone distracted until the one immune to all poisons fell into my hands, but... there's nothing to be done about what's already happened."

"I trust you will not make another mistake."

"The feeling is mutual. Don't make another mistake yourself. If the one immune to all poisons fails to fall into my hands again... I'll ask His Eminence to let me turn you into a poison-infused human weapon."

The undisguised threat to use him as an experimental subject made the veins stand out on Number Fifty-Six's neck.

"You...! How dare you!"

"I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Even in the Tang Clan, there are few who enjoy using torture poisons as much as I do."

The fabric of the man's veil fluttered, revealing the corners of his mouth curling into a chilling smile.

Number Fifty-Six glared murderously at their collaborator from Sichuan.

He wanted nothing more than to tear the man apart on the spot, but as long as His Eminence needed him, Number Fifty-Six could not lay a hand on him first.

Barely suppressing his fury, he spoke in a harsh voice.

"That concludes today's monthly meeting."

Number Fifty-Six sprang to his feet, nearly kicking his chair aside, and turned away.

He ground his teeth, making a silent vow.

One day, he would force that insolent bastard to his knees and make him scream for mercy at his feet.

He would chew that reckless fool down to the bone for daring to act so far above his station.

The murderous intent he had been struggling to suppress spread through the room.

Outside, Baekya twisted restlessly, his face drawn with anxiety as he sensed the murderous intent seeping from within.

"Number Eighty-Eight. Will you stay still?"

Someone reprimanded him, but Baekya paid no attention. He continued pacing in front of the door, making distressed noises under his breath.

Unlike the others around him, who couldn't hear a thing, Baekya could make out every word of the conversation inside.

He couldn't understand exactly what they meant, but several troubling fragments had caught his attention.

'It is regrettable that the one immune to all poisons did not fall into your hands...'

'Our great undertaking...'

Brother's little sister was in danger.

He had to protect her.

Brother had asked him to.

'Baekya. You have to protect her in my place. You can do that, can't you?'

The memory of Yeon Ryang's face as he repeatedly impressed that duty upon him made it impossible for Baekya to remain still.

He kept gripping and releasing his sword, unable to settle down.

One of the demonic practitioners watching him cursed.

"How much longer do we have to drag that half-wit around?"

"Just leave him alone. He's good with a sword, isn't he? His Eminence expects him to reach the state beyond demonic influence."

"State beyond demonic influence, my ass. He needs to understand what people are saying to him first. What good is being handy with a sword when his head doesn't work? He's like a damned dog following its master around. Won't listen to anyone but the Wraith."

"Maybe animals just understand one another."

Someone shrugged at the sarcastic remark and opened the firmly shut iron door.

"Hey, Number Eighty-Eight. You're getting on my nerves, so go outside and get some air... What the hell? Has that bastard already left?"

Ignoring the man's call, Baekya launched himself into the air.

He probably wouldn't be able to make it deep into Chengdu, but if he waited somewhere nearby, perhaps the black sable he'd encountered last time would come looking for him.

The sable that had once followed him all the way to the outskirts of Xi'an had caught Yeon Ryang's scent on him and led him where he needed to go.

If he was lucky, it might do the same again.

Thinking of the girl who had exactly the same eyes as his brother, Baekya broke into a run.

******

Grandfather had warned me that I'd have to start again from the beginning if I wanted to become a martial artist worthy of the name.

True to his word, he began teaching me everything anew.

"Again."

"..."

"Again."

He overlooked nothing, not a single step or breath, and demanded movements so precisely controlled that his insistence bordered on obsession.

But I was glad he was being so uncompromising.

I could feel his determination to raise me as his true successor rather than letting me get by with the bare minimum, as he had before.

Knowing what it cost him to give me these lessons, I did my utmost to follow his instructions.

Even so, the physical exhaustion was difficult to overcome.

As soon as the sun went down, I would collapse into sleep as though I'd lost consciousness.

'Watch carefully. To disrupt the balance of yin and yang with a poison palm...'

Even in my dreams, I was turning Grandfather's lessons over in my mind, trying to make sense of them.

Then something tapped against the leg of my bed.

I opened my eyes groggily and lifted Cane by the scruff of its neck.

"Cane. I'm sleeping..."

"Kiiit."

"Where do you want to go in the middle of the night?"

"Ki!"

"No, Cane. Grandfather said I'm not allowed to go out at night anymore. I'll get scolded..."

Despite my refusal, Cane bounced up and down on the covers, determined to wake me.

I was briefly puzzled by its unusually insistent behavior.

Then I remembered what had happened at the safe house and sat bolt upright.

Could it have caught Yeon Ryang's scent?

Or has that boy from before come back?

My mouth went dry with a strange sense of anticipation.

If my suspicions were correct, Yeon Ryang's sword might finally be returned to its owner's hands.

I listened carefully.

The sound of gentle snoring came from the next room. It seemed unlikely that Songji would notice me leaving.

I scrambled out of bed, changed my clothes, and fastened the meteorite-iron sword I'd hidden beneath my bed to my waist.

Cane had been waiting quietly for me to finish getting ready.

The moment I was prepared, it leaped out the window as though telling me to follow.

I'm sorry, Grandfather. I'll just go out one more time.

I swallowed hard and quietly slipped over the wall.