On the second floor of the Taedang Hall, in the largest of its inner chambers—
Cheon Ryuyeong lay unconscious upon a broad bed, while Tang Cheolhyeon personally tended to him.
He took his pulse, cleansed his wounds, pressed a few acupoints, and applied needles. Then he used medicines kept by the Tang Clan.
Poison and medicine share the same roots. And so, the Tang Clan possessed many remedies of exceptional potency.
Tang Cheolhyeon placed a yellow-hued pill into Cheon Ryuyeong's mouth.
It was the Man-aek Hwan-dan .
If Shaolin had its Great Return Pill, and Wudang its Supreme Azure Pill, then the Tang Clan had the Man-aek Hwan-dan.
Because the Tang Clan was so famed for poisons and hidden weapons, few in the martial world knew of this pill. But to those who did, it was something they longed for even in their dreams.
If a master possessing more than half a lifetime of inner power were to consume it, he would become immune to nearly all known poisons, and his inner strength would increase by nearly ten years' worth.
It was a treasure of the Tang Clan—something that could not be bought with money.
And now, only one remained in the Tang Clan. Tang Cheolhyeon had not hesitated to give it to Cheon Ryuyeong.
In truth, giving the Man-aek Hwan-dan to him was like putting a pearl necklace on a pig.
Its enormous efficacy would be nearly wasted.
If someone without deep cultivation took it, at best they might avoid common ailments like colds and gain a bit of stamina. Nothing more.
Yet none of those watching thought the pill wasted.
Tang Cheolhyeon removed the needles and slowly bound Cheon Ryuyeong's wounds with cotton cloth.
His eyes were red the entire time. He seemed on the verge of shedding great tears.
At ninety-three years of age, the Tang Clan's patriarch had tasted all the bitterness and sweetness of the world. Yet as he treated Cheon Ryuyeong, he fought to hold back his tears.
The Tang Clan disciples, having heard the full story from Tang Nam-u and Tang Hyemi, felt both gratitude and pain.
Outside, in the martial arena before Taedang Hall, the Tang Clan and the White Tiger Unit no longer cheered their victory. A solemn mood prevailed.
All recalled the words Cheon Ryuyeong had spoken, as relayed by Tang Nam-u:
"Act with righteousness, fulfill your responsibilities, and guard your honor. For that, you must never fear death. That is what it means to be a warrior."
Anyone could say such words. But to act upon them—that was rare.
Everyone knew how hard it was to uphold such a foundation, such a beginner's heart. And so their chests ached.
They felt both respect and sorrow for the Scholar of the Martial World, who had offered up his own life to protect those principles for strangers.
When Tang Cheolhyeon finished bandaging, Bang Yacheol spoke.
"If Young Master Cheon should come to harm… I will demand responsibility."
His eyes, too, were bloodshot.
But whom would he hold responsible?
The Jinsan Escort Agency? The Tang Clan? The Martial Alliance? Or the demon cultists?
No—it was Cheon Ryuyeong himself who had chosen this. Bang Yacheol knew that. Yet everyone understood his heart.
For they all felt the same: an urge to seize someone by the collar and demand why Cheon Ryuyeong had to end up like this. The fury boiling within made their hearts feel as though they would burn to ash.
Moyong Rin and Pyeong-u jong had longed to meet him, and now they finally had—but not as they wished.
Bruises, torn wounds, and a burning fevered body.
The sight made their hearts heavy.
His meticulous schemes that could shock even ghosts, his insight that pierced the whole picture, his improvisation in the face of changing variables—
There was nothing about him that was not admirable.
Yet more than that, it was his fiery spirit and heart that stole their breath. And the suffering he must have endured left them speechless.
As silence held, Dokgo Seol spoke.
"We have to go."
Her words fell like a stone upon still waters, sending waves through the silence.
None were ignorant of what she meant.
Much time had already passed. The battle was not yet finished.
Beside her, Pyeong-u frowned.
"Sister, must you say that now?"
Dokgo Seol kept her gaze fixed on Cheon Ryuyeong's face.
"This was the plan Young Master Cheon forged with all his strength. We have to finish this fight. If we don't reclaim the Sichuan branch… then all he's done will be wasted."
Pyeong-u knew she was right. But he couldn't help but feel resentful. What was one more battle worth? Military merit meant nothing to him.
If not for Cheon Ryuyeong, he would never have taken part in this war, never revealed his hidden martial strength.
"Isn't this victory enough?"
Namgung Soo joined him.
"At least wait until Young Master Cheon opens his eyes. Can any of us set out while worrying like this?"
Moyong Rin and Jang Deukmu both widened their eyes.
The famously strict Namgung Soo, now throwing aside a chance at great merit because of Cheon Ryuyeong—it was startling. Almost unbelievable.
Moyong Rin shook his head at this unfamiliar Namgung Soo, then interjected:
"Seol is right. If we don't reclaim the Sichuan branch, nothing is certain. Remember—the Heavenly Demon Sword still lives."
Pyeong-u jong nodded gravely.
"I agree with Lady Dokgo and Bingbong. We must complete this operation before the Heavenly Demon Sword returns to the Sichuan branch."
They had both seen him with their own eyes, and so pressed their point all the more.
Even Cheongu Yulsa, sitting by the tea table at the bedside, spoke up in agreement.
Baek Yunhoe, the Heavenly Demon Sword—
Against such a foe, they could not afford a single misstep. Best to seize the high ground first.
Moyong Rin pressed again:
"The Sichuan branch is vital, both strategically and tactically. And thanks to the Scholar of the Martial World, we have the chance to take it back. Shall we throw away this heaven-sent opportunity? Surely even he would not wish that."
Even Bang Yacheol, at first reluctant, finally agreed.
"I too agree. Young Master Cheon has brought us this far, even in such a state… We cannot waste it now!"
All nodded, reaching consensus that they must fight.
Dokgo Seol turned to Pyeong-u.
"You stay here and guard him."
Jo Jeonhu clamped a rough hand on Pyeong-u's shoulder.
"You're his guard. Whatever happens, protect him well."
Pyeong-u agreed readily. Without Cheon Ryuyeong, he had no desire to fight anyway.
"Yes. Don't worry."
"Hey! Don't leave his side. And keep changing the cloth on his forehead."
"I said don't worry!"
As Pyeong-u grumbled, many stole glances at him. He was only barely past twenty. How could he be a supreme master? It was hard to believe.
Truth be told, if not for Cheon Ryuyeong overshadowing him, Pyeong-u's martial prowess would already have shaken the world.
Everyone was curious about his sect and true strength. But now was not the time.
Moyong Rin swept a look around the chamber.
"If things are unfolding as Young Master Cheon planned, then we still have time. But if we delay too long, we will regret it forever. We must move quickly."
As all prepared to leave, Tang Cheolhyeon called out.
"Hyemi."
"Yes, Grandfather."
Tang Hyemi answered respectfully, and Tang Cheolhyeon smiled gently.
"You will stay."
"What?"
"Help Young Hero Pyeong-u care for Young Master Cheon."
Tang Hyemi stiffened.
For Tang Clan women, tending or nursing an unrelated man was strictly forbidden. Though not publicly known, it was an unspoken rule they had always lived by.
At his words, Tang Cheonwi, Dokchalnyeo, and several others in the chamber held their breath.
The Tang Clan was a martial household that practiced the son-in-law succession system. At that moment, Tang Cheolhyeon was already thinking of making Cheon Ryuyeong a part of the Tang Clan.
He continued speaking as though it were nothing unusual:
"Do not leave his side. And… be the one to soak the cloth in cold water and change it. He is the benefactor of our house, is he not?"
Tang Hyemi bit her lip slightly, then smiled and answered:
"Yes. Do not worry. I will serve him with all my heart."
Everyone but the Tang Clan smiled warmly at that exchange. Yet Dokgo Seol alone wore a displeased expression. The strange looks on the Tang Clan members' faces weighed on her chest.
One by one, the others filed out.
Soon, only the unconscious Cheon Ryuyeong, Pyeong-u, and Tang Hyemi remained inside the chamber. Dokgo Seol, however, still stood by the doorway.
Pyeong-u glanced at her and asked:
"Do you have some instructions?"
Dokgo Seol did not answer. Her gaze was locked on the back of Tang Hyemi's head.
At some point, Tang Hyemi had taken her place beside the bed.
She recalled the moment when, during the carriage accident, Cheon Ryuyeong had grasped her hand and smiled at her while she wept. From then on, the proud and astonishing moments he had shown her passed before her eyes like lantern slides.
"He is the benefactor of our house. I must devote myself."
She lightly dabbed at Cheon Ryuyeong's cold sweat with a cloth, each gesture imbued with sincerity.
Pyeong-u followed Dokgo Seol's gaze to Tang Hyemi, then turned back to ask:
"Sister Seol?"
Dokgo Seol bit her lip hard, then spoke:
"Pyeong-u!"
"Yes, say it."
"Guard Young Master Cheon properly!"
"What?"
"And you be the one to change the cloth on his forehead."
At her cold tone, Tang Hyemi's hand froze mid-motion. Pyeong-u gave her a look of exasperation and replied indifferently:
"Why make a fuss over something so trivial? Anyone can do it."
"You're a supreme master!"
Pyeong-u's jaw dropped in disbelief.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Act like one. Don't shirk your duties. You are his guard! That means anything related to him is your responsibility."
"What kind of twisted logic is that?"
"I'll come back to check, so keep that in mind."
With that icy declaration, she turned and left.
Pyeong-u stood there dumbfounded before turning to Tang Hyemi.
"What's wrong with her?"
Tang Hyemi gave a faint smile.
"Who knows? I don't."
"Hmph. Could it be… does Sister Seol like Brother Ryuyeong?"
At his offhand mutter, Tang Hyemi's expression stiffened. But she quickly returned her focus to wiping Cheon Ryuyeong's sweat as though nothing had happened.
Meanwhile, Noeakcheon's group moved quickly for several li before stopping.
"We must halt briefly and reorganize the formation," said Noeakcheon.
Hyulsa Je replied with a nod:
"Yes, let us do so."
Indeed, their current state was a mess.
They had scattered and regrouped only haphazardly, making it impossible to even tell how many remained.
As they watched subordinates slowly trickle in, silence fell.
It was hard to believe these were the same men who had once marched proudly at their side.
Their faces were heavy with defeat and shame. The higher-ups silently recalled the Black Wolf Leader's earlier words, questions that had gnawed at them all along.
Was the Invisible Deadly Poison truly fake?
The more they thought, the more the doubt grew like a snowball. Yet none dared speak it aloud.
To admit it would mean acknowledging their future held only ruin.
Meanwhile, Elder Monghyeolbi sent a carrier pigeon to the Heavenly Demon Sword at Mt. Cheongseong, reporting the current state and urging his swift return to the Sichuan branch.
An hour and a half passed.
Jeokrang Leader Geotap approached Noeakcheon and said:
"Most of those who escaped have gathered. In total—three hundred and forty-eight."
The leaders fell silent, sighing heavily.
From one thousand seven hundred, only three hundred and fifty.
It was laughable in its misery. Every single one had been a precious elite subordinate.
Elder Hwangmagek spoke weakly:
"When the Black Wolf Unit or the scattered stragglers arrive, perhaps…"
But he could not finish. None knew how many would return, if any.
One thing was certain: they had been utterly defeated.
Mabul muttered darkly:
"The Black Wolf Unit still shows no sign of coming."
At his words, the leaders swallowed hard. Could it be that the poison was fake, and they were still locked in battle even now?
All shook their heads violently.
Ironically, they now prayed the poison was real. At least then, they could excuse this catastrophic loss.
Noeakcheon swept his gaze over the despondent faces and declared:
"Maintain formation. Return to the Sichuan branch!"
"Yes, sir!"
The three hundred and fifty survivors answered as one—but their voices held no strength.
Noeakcheon and the leaders marched on. In the distance loomed mountains upon mountains.
Another stratagem of Cheon Ryuyeong's awaited them there.
Their nightmare was not over. It had only begun.
Back at the Tang Clan estate—only a hundred Tang warriors remained, with all others having marched out. From the second floor of Taedang Hall came a scream from Tang Hyemi.
"Young Hero Pyeong-u! Young Master Cheon is acting strange!"
Cheon Ryuyeong's face flushed bright red.
Pyeong-u, who had been seated by the window, rushed to the bed.
It wasn't just his face—his neck and exposed torso, not covered by bandages, were also reddening rapidly.
Pyeong-u frowned in alarm as a thought struck him.
"That pill earlier—what was it?"
"The Man-aek Hwan-dan, the treasure of our house!"
Tang Hyemi explained quickly. Pyeong-u's brows knit tighter.
"So for someone without martial cultivation, it acts only as a tonic or restorative?"
"Yes, that's right."
He tilted his head, then muttered:
"Strange. Has such a treasure ever been given to someone without cultivation before?"
Tang Hyemi's eyes widened, her mouth falling open. She shook her head.
"Never."
"Then what you said earlier?"
"It was only… what everyone has always assumed."
She trailed off, realizing belatedly that something taken for granted might not hold true.
Pyeong-u's expression twisted.
The Man-aek Hwan-dan.
It was the Tang Clan's greatest gesture of goodwill—but for Cheon Ryuyeong, it might prove fatal.
At that moment, Cheon Ryuyeong's eyes flew open.
The black of his pupils vanished, leaving only whites.
"Khhk!"
He choked, coughing violently.
"Cough! Cough!"
From his mouth and nose, black blood poured forth.