Chapter 9
Let’s have a round
Shashashak!
On the roof of the pavilion where the great lady Namgung Sanyeong resided, the chief spider descended.
‘No matter what happens, I must find out information related to the sorcerer and return to the young cult leader!’
In the chief spider’s mind, there was only the thought that he had to make some kind of achievement.
How long could he go on living like some petty creature?
In fact, he could feel, moment by moment, his human dignity disappearing, along with his intelligence and reason degenerating.
To stop that, he had to catch the young cult leader’s eye.
He knew very well that the young cult leader was someone who never forgave a person once they betrayed him, but even so, at this moment, there was no one he could rely on except the young cult leader’s mercy.
‘If possible… I’d like to ask for the whereabouts of my daughter too!’
The chief spider recalled the circumstances that had forced him to take part in betrayal, then shook his head.
For now, let’s focus on this. No matter what, I have to find the sorcerer if I want even some scraps to fall my way.
‘Someone… is with her.’
The chief spider narrowed his eight simple eyes slightly as he fixed his gaze on Namgung Sanyeong.
At that moment, a strange woman was standing beside Namgung Sanyeong.
At first, he wondered if that woman might be the sorcerer, but seeing that her features resembled Namgung Sanyeong’s, he realized she was her daughter.
Cheonyeopseonja Tang Gyujin.
She was the successor of the Guryong branch family, yet had the unusual background of having joined the Cheongseong Sect, so he remembered her.
Wasn’t it that from a young age, she was born with a talent difficult to describe, and had been taken in as a disciple by Master Uho Dojang, the close friend of her father Tang Hosan?
Though she had not officially had her name entered in the register, Cheonyeopseonja was widely known in the Cult as a prominent female master representing the Cheongseong Sect today.
But the biggest reason the chief spider remembered Tang Gyujin was because, in this branch family full of nothing but human scum, she was the only one who had ever treated “Tang Woon-hwi” warmly.
Of course, even that had become meaningless when she suddenly left for the Cheongseong Sect.
‘Still, compared to her venomous mother or younger brother, at least her appearance gives off a gentler impression.’
But if she was Namgung Sanyeong’s blood relative, he couldn’t judge her by appearance alone.
The chief spider quietly perked his ears, curious about what scheme they were plotting this time.
Namgung Sanyeong’s sharp voice shook the room.
“So you’re saying you will at last drive a dagger into this mother’s heart!”
“It can’t possibly compare to the daggers you’ve been driving into Woon-hwi’s heart all this time, can it?”
“You mean to say you truly are the child I bore in pain—”
Woon-hwi?
It was certain they were making the young cult leader a topic of conversation, but instead of plotting together, it seemed rather that the mother and daughter were clashing heavily in opinion.
And in a very irritable way at that.
Just what is going on here?
The chief spider couldn’t understand, and only blinked his eight eyes.
* * *
Pabababak!
The long staff in my hand moved swiftly, leaving countless shadows in the air.
Sanhwa Staff Technique.
It was one of the martial skills that the outer clan warriors of Sichuan’s Tang family usually learned when they first began training.
From ancient times, the staff was considered the basic form of all weapons—spear, sword, saber, axe, whip, and the like.
For me, who intended to one day master the sword, it was a weapon I absolutely had to learn.
On the limbs of the straw dummy, woven tightly together, deep strike marks appeared.
The strike marks never strayed from the predetermined points.
Paat!
And finally, an upward swing to finish.
Seogeok, tuk—
The dummy’s head was sliced at an angle and fell to the ground.
“Phew—”
I put away the staff and let out a heavy sigh.
Since I hadn’t circulated my internal energy, but had swung the staff solely with my physical strength for the sake of training, my clothes were soaked through with sweat.
And then.
Paaaa—
The moment I circulated my internal energy to ease my fatigue, I felt something stir in my dantian.
Twitch!
My inner energy was beginning to condense little by little, attempting to form essence.
Yang Gwang I Hyeon.
This was the stage where the inner energy gathered in the dantian began to reveal its true nature and affect the body.
In terms of the Venomous Dragon Heart Method, it meant the stage of Gui-ryong, where the poison began to fully emit, was not far off.
At that point, the poison could be released outward. It could even be imbued into weapons.
This sense of accomplishment, of steadily stacking up each stage, was something that could never truly be expressed in words.
I think I finally understand why warriors can’t forget this exhilaration, why they cling to martial arts even as they grow old.
And the thrill that comes when you win a wager wasn’t all that different from this.
“Five nyang.”
I stretched out my hand toward Dangon, who was glaring at me with a twisted expression.
“Damn it! Here it is! Here you go!”
Thud— a coin pouch dropped into my palm.
Hehehe, judging by the weight, it was exactly five nyang.
He could’ve tried something like sneaking a coin or two out from the bottom, but since he didn’t, didn’t that make this old man pretty honest?
“Relax your face a little. As a martial uncle, instead of congratulating your cute disciple’s achievement, what’s with scowling like that?”
“A disciple shaking down the purse of the martial uncle he’s supposed to respect every day—what am I supposed to do about that! I’m completely broke now!”
“Then why do you keep asking to bet with me?”
“Because I’m pissed! I’m pissed, that’s why! I’ve got to win something too!!”
Now he even threw away the polite manners he once had and was venting his frustration.
This is why gambling is scary, folks. Never get into it. If you do, it’ll change you like this.
Anyway. It had already been ten days since I started learning martial arts from Dangon.
In that time, I had diligently emptied Dangon’s pockets (?), and now I was moving on to the introductory skills of the eighteen standard weapons.
Even just with body movement techniques and strikes of fist, palm, fingers, and legs, an infinite world was opening up before me. And here I was, barely learning to walk, yet already trying to master weapon techniques as well.
At first, Dangon strongly opposed it. He said it was too much to train in weapons too, since I still had so many internal arts and poison techniques left to learn.
But because of my stubborn insistence (I teased him with, “Scared?” and he gave in right away), he eventually began teaching me bit by bit.
In return, he made a wager. He said he’d use this chance to win back what I’d taken from him.
And the result was what you see now.
“Wait, didn’t you say yesterday was the very first time you held a staff?”
“I did.”
“If I catch you cheating, I’ll kill you, you know?”
“Hey, hey! How dare you speak like that to this young master!”
“If you don’t like it, go to the Madam and tell her yourself.”
Having been stripped down to his very soul, Dangon now acted with reckless bravado.
“To make it easier for you to understand—though it feels a bit weird saying this myself—I’m a genius of martial arts, you know? Do you really think something as basic as introductory training techniques would be any different for me?”
“That’s because the Gale Martial Arts is a synthesis of the Tang family’s martial techniques! Since you grew up watching Tang family arts from such a young age, you can at least follow the ‘flow’ and pick up the forms to some degree. But the eighteen standard weapons—those have a completely different origin—”
Dangon grumbled for quite a while, as if feeling wronged, then let out a sigh.
“Haah! What’s the use of saying all this? In the end, I lost again today.”
“That’s why I even lowered the stakes to a measly amount for you. Where else could you find such a sweet disciple who worries about his martial uncle’s finances?”
“That measly amount is half of my monthly pay, though!?”
Sensing that pushing him further would really make him explode, I quickly shifted the topic.
“More importantly, in the second move, my foot kept twisting to the right. How exactly should I use the rebound of the waist there?”
“…You’re seriously annoying, you know that? How did I end up stuck with someone like you! Damn it!”
Dangon’s redeeming quality was that, even while grumbling like this, he never once neglected his teaching.
Thanks to that, I was able to learn martial arts at a rapid pace.
Up until then, the only martial knowledge I had was theory built up by memorizing the Cheonma Mugo.
Now I could quickly bridge the gap with the actual combat experience I had been lacking, and it felt great.
Only after asking about the parts of the Sanhwa Staff Technique that puzzled me and the questions I had, did I finally manage to finish the lesson.
* * *
After finishing the six-hour-long lesson, the place I headed to was always the same.
“You’ve come again, young master! Welcome!”
“Yeah, yeah. There’s no one else who boosts your sales as consistently as me, right?”
“Of course, of course. I’ll take you to your usual spot. And for food and drinks…?”
“The same as yesterday.”
“I’ll serve you quickly and comfortably! Hey, what are you all doing! Hurry up and attend to the young master!”
It had been ten days straight of visiting the Cheongpung Inn.
Each time, I ordered the table full of food and wine, so whenever the innkeeper saw me and Dangon, he never straightened his bent back.
“Is the owner of this inn perhaps you, young master?”
“Hm? What are you talking about?”
Today, I was especially enjoying a ten-year-aged Yeohong, when Dangon, glaring at his cup as though he wanted to kill it, suddenly said something strange.
“Or do you at least have some shares in it?”
“Nope. Nothing like that. As if Madam would ever bother to give me something like that.”
“…Then why do you come here every single day? Aren’t there plenty of other inns?”
Why else? I’m waiting for someone.
But looking around, today again there was no one I was waiting for.
Ten days in a row—nothing.
Could it be that there are no followers of the Demon God Sect around here?
I was certain I remembered there being a secret branch even in Guryong County.
Or maybe they had all been killed or injured during the civil strife.
Not knowing the reason, an inexplicable unease filled my mind, but I concealed it as best as I could and continued leaving the mark.
Still, I hoped that someday, even if just one person, might discover it.
“Why? Does the wine not taste good?”
“Of course not. It’s delicious. But, hm! Never mind. Well, it’s not like I dislike drinking anyway.”
The real reason Dangon grumbled yet still hung around with me like this was because, beyond the money I won from him, I always threw in far more to buy him fine liquor.
How could a mere household retainer ever enjoy fine liquor and luxurious food like this every single day? He could only do it thanks to me.
Of course, it wasn’t as if I actually had the extra money to spare.
So where did I get it from, you ask? Where else—everything was put on Madam’s tab at the main residence.
When she gets the bill a month later, she’ll be utterly shocked. That’s why you shouldn’t have messed with me in the first place, Mother. Kekeke.
“But more importantly, have you heard the news?”
“What news?”
“Earlier today, the First Young Lady returned.”
“…My sister?”
“Yes.”
A strange feeling welled up in me.
Tang Gyujin.
I had never actually seen her in person, but in the lingering thoughts of “Tang Woon-hwi,” memories of her remained vivid.
She was the only one in this broken family he could rely on.
In fact, Tang Gyujin had often sent letters to “Tang Woon-hwi.”
Asking if he was well, if he was uncomfortable anywhere, if his martial training was going smoothly, suggesting he go out for a walk since the weather was nice. Each and every letter was filled with concern and care.
Even during his time of confinement, they arrived consistently, but I never replied to a single one.
Since I had no true identity as “Tang Woon-hwi,” I didn’t see the need.
The issue was whether Tang Gyujin, even if she showed kindness to “Tang Woon-hwi” now, could continue to do so in the future.
I was already preparing to move in earnest, with the intent of devouring Namgung Sanyeong.
When that time came, would Tang Gyujin still side with “Tang Woon-hwi”? Hard to say. More likely, she’d naturally stand by her biological mother, Namgung Sanyeong.
“She must have returned looking splendid, right?”
Even so, I thought it would be nice if she and “Tang Woon-hwi” could remain on good terms.
Though whether that would actually happen, I wasn’t sure.
Tak!
I clinked cups lightly with Dangon, then set mine down on the floor.
“Well, I suppose that’s enough, isn’t it?”
“You really intend to begin?”
“Yeah.”
“The manor will soon turn into a battlefield.”
“For someone claiming to be worried, you’re smiling way too much.”
“Ah, is that so? What a mistake.”
Dangon tried hard to suppress the twitching corners of his lips, but it didn’t seem to be working.
Well, watching from the side would be ridiculously entertaining.
There’s nothing more fun than watching a fire or a fight from the sidelines, and to enjoy that together? Ah, that’s irresistible.
My body was more or less ready, and my visit to the Dark Lord wasn’t far off either—so from now on, I was planning to enjoy a truly exhilarating game of fire-spinning.
* * *
“Th-this… you mean I should deliver this to the Red Pavilion?”
The moment he received the letter I handed over, Hyungsam’s pupils trembled wildly.
The Red Pavilion was where the Third Young Master, Tang Yuchang, resided. Taking this there would feel like walking straight into a tiger’s den.
“Why? Don’t want to? Should I get someone else to do it?”
“N-no! I’ll make sure to deliver your message properly, young master!”
“Good, good. Oh, and by the way, if I hear even a word that you strayed from your errand—you’re dead.”
“Y-yes, I’ll keep that in mind!!”
Man, he could’ve said it quietly—what a racket.
Each time I patted Hyungsam on the shoulder with a “safe travels,” something—whether tears or sweat—was beading and trickling down his face.
On the envelope of the letter, the words were written as follows:
—To Tang Yuchang, personal.
Let’s have a duel, you little shit.
Chronicles of the Reincarnated Demon God
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