Episode 22

A little while later, Dakam emerged from the hut, his shoulders slumped and his expression downcast.

“Chief Cheongmal, I never expected you’d go this far. You even came all the way here, and now I don’t know how to repay you properly.”

Bisa-yeong chuckled softly in response.

“Well, thanks to you, I got to see quite an entertaining show. Still, it’s a relief to see the old man so lively—doesn’t look like he’s about to kick the bucket anytime soon.”

I nodded in agreement and spoke to him as well.

“If you ever need us again, come find us at the Biryong Thirteen. We’ll help however we can. And if we ever need something, would it be alright to come to you?”

His face lit up, and he nodded vigorously.

“Of course! I’ll do anything you ask!”

His simple sincerity made me smile inwardly.

Just by indebting him, I had already achieved my main goal here.

Building connections to find the antidote herb and to get guidance deeper into the jungle—that was my original purpose.

Though I was still a bit uneasy about the old man’s true identity, there was nothing I could do as long as he remained so stubborn.

Feeling much lighter, I turned to Chief Seolpung.

“Shall we head back, Chief? If we leave now, we’ll have plenty of time.”

But Seolpung didn’t answer. Instead, his gaze was fixed intently on the hut, deep in thought.

“Chief?”

Suddenly, he started walking back toward the hut.

We exchanged confused looks.

Seolpung approached the old man and began speaking.

“Sir, I believe there’s been a misunderstanding.”

From inside came the old man’s angry voice.

“What misunderstanding? Get lost right now, you damn fools!”

But Seolpung paid no mind and continued.

“I am indeed from Biryongdae, but I am not affiliated with the orthodox sect. I didn’t come here to exploit you—I came specifically to help.”

“Shut up, you bastard! How dare you lie? You say you’re from Biryongdae but not orthodox? Might as well say you’re a dog but not a beast!”

The old man’s insults were fierce, but Seolpung didn’t get angry. Instead, he smiled faintly and spoke again.

“Then, would you care to make a wager? If I can prove I’m not orthodox, you’ll allow us to examine your condition.”

“What?!”

“Then I’ll take that as permission and come in.”

Seolpung entered, and Cheongyeon Sojeo, who had been watching, turned to Bisa-yeong.

“Is the chief really not orthodox?”

Bisa-yeong shrugged.

“I don’t know. I’ve never heard anything about his sect.”

Not just Bisa-yeong, but probably no one in the Thirteen knew the chief’s true nature—at least, not yet.

I suddenly recalled something from my past life.

The day the front lines completely collapsed, I learned his true identity.

It was astonishing.

I vividly remembered his eyes glowing red and the overwhelming martial prowess he wielded.

At that moment, the old man’s startled voice echoed from inside.

“Enemy?! Why on earth are you in Biryongdae?!”

I had seen Seolpung receive that question before.

Back then, he answered that he had been running away from himself but had come to cherish something precious.

After a while, we were allowed back inside the hut.

Seolpung was already taking the old man’s pulse, his expression grave.

Dakam and his siblings watched silently nearby.

“Hmph! Didn’t I tell you? This isn’t something you can fix! You’re just wasting your time!”

The old man grumbled, still displeased.

But his voice was softer than before, and I sensed a trace of apology and concern beneath it.

After a moment, Seolpung finished and sighed deeply.

“I’m sorry, sir. As you said, my abilities aren’t enough to help.”

Dakam and his siblings looked disappointed, while the old man scoffed.

“Of course! Even I, who’ve studied medicine and martial arts all my life, can’t fix this. What could you possibly do?”

Seolpung stood and apologized to Dakam as well.

“Sorry, Dakam. I couldn’t live up to your expectations.”

“Ah… I see…”

Dakam bowed his head in disappointment. Seolpung nodded to the old man and turned away.

“Alright, let’s really head back now.”

Then, the old man smiled bitterly and asked Seolpung.

“You’re a strange one—your identity and nature are truly unusual. Will you never tell those others?”

Seolpung looked back at him with a heavy expression, and the old man continued.

Words that shocked us all.

“I am the Madou of the Blood Sect.”

It was a staggering revelation.

Bisa-yeong’s eyes widened as he shouted.

“What?! You’re… the Madou of the Blood Sect?!”

Seolpung met his gaze with a heavy look.

Honestly, I had already suspected it.

His vast knowledge of the Mains and his deep hatred for the orthodox sect made it likely he was a retired Madou of the Blood Sect.

Judging by his expression, Cheongyeon Sojeo seemed to have guessed as well.

But according to Dakam, he had long been working to save the Mains.

He was their protector.

So, if he wasn’t a cruel man, I had thought to overlook that fact.

But Bisa-yeong, whose sect had been nearly wiped out by the Blood Sect, couldn’t let it go.

“Chief, what’s going on? Is it true? Is he really the Madou of the Blood Sect?”

Seolpung sighed.

“Sorry, Sayoung. I couldn’t tell you for the sake of Dakam and the others.”

Bisa-yeong glared at Seolpung with a look of betrayal, then furiously drew his sword.

“Madou of the Blood Sect! I may not know the chief’s true nature, but I will never forgive you!”

Startled, Dakam and his siblings hurriedly shielded the old man with their bodies.

“No! Please don’t! We’re sorry! Please forgive us!”

“Don’t kill him! Please, sir!”

The old man chuckled, mocking Bisa-yeong.

“Ha, ha. That’s the orthodox sect I know. You’re just children who can’t stand being left alone, always ready to fight to the death no matter the situation! Hahaha! ‘Fight to the death’—what a ridiculous phrase!”

“Shut up, Madou!”

Bisa-yeong raised his sword as if to strike, but his hand trembled like a storm-tossed leaf.

Dakam and his siblings clung to him, begging.

“Please, brother! Stop!”

“Don’t kill Dokno, sir!”

“No! He’s our grandfather!”

Bisa-yeong looked at the old man with a twisted expression, moved by the children’s desperate pleas.

But the old man just kept chuckling and mocking him.

Then Bisa-yeong shouted in anger.

“Madou of the Blood Sect! How dare you mock the orthodox sect?! What have you done to deserve that?”

But the old man didn’t back down.

His eyes blazed with fury.

“Mock them? Why not? I can mock them all I want! Hypocrites! I lost everything to you! I can mock you as much as I please! Think I’ll just stop at mocking? I’ll erase you from this world! Come on! Even if I’m not whole, taking down one of you is no problem!”

“Is that so? Fine! I’ll grant your wish!”

“Ah! No!”

“Please, spare him!”

Bisa-yeong, who looked ready to strike, couldn’t bring himself to push away the children clinging to him.

His expression flickered several times.

Finally, with a twisted face, he looked at the children and lowered his trembling hand.

Then he spat out bitterly.

“I am Bisa-yeong, the greatest disciple of the Bijong Sect. My sect has disciples no less capable than these children. Hiding behind such children is the height of cowardice. Well, I suppose that’s why you’re the Madou of the Blood Sect.”

With that, Bisa-yeong sheathed his sword, his face hollow, and turned away.

“I’ll erase today from my memory. I never saw you, Madou of the Blood Sect.”

Then, the old man, looking shocked, suddenly asked Bisa-yeong in a trembling voice.

“Did you say Bijong Sect? You mean the Bijong Sect from Guangxi Province?”

Bisa-yeong scoffed without turning around.

“Hmph. Is there another Bijong Sect somewhere else?”

The old man muttered softly.

“Muhwangchong Blood Clan.”

Those words reignited the fury Bisa-yeong had been trying to suppress.

“What did you say?!”

Furious, Bisa-yeong spun around, eyes blazing.

“How dare you speak of that in front of me?!”

But the old man didn’t say it to provoke him.

He sighed deeply, then, using his only movable arm and leg, he struggled off the bed and knelt before Bisa-yeong.

“My family, everything I had, was lost to the Zhenchang and orthodox sects. I do not regret my revenge, but… if you are a descendant of those unjustly killed at Muhwangchong, then you have the right to kill me.”

“…What nonsense are you spouting?”

Confused, Bisa-yeong asked.

The old man’s confession was beyond anything we could have imagined.

“The one who planned the Muhwangchong massacre alongside Mugwang was me. I’m the very enemy who killed the elders of your four sects.”

Boom!

It felt as if a drumbeat thundered inside my head.

What did he say?

He planned the Muhwangchong massacre?

Could the Mugwang he mentioned just now be none other than Jeon Mugwang, the leader of the Blood Sect, Sa Hyehyeolma?

We were all left speechless, mouths agape.

Bisa-yeong’s eyes trembled as he asked, “What the hell are you talking about? You planned the Muhwangchong massacre? That’s nonsense! Why are you even here acting like this?!”

The old man answered calmly, “You don’t need to know my reasons. I’m not asking for your understanding. Just… I’m sorry. So, kill me and settle your grudge.”

Bisa-yeong shouted in anguish, “Shut up! Don’t speak for yourself! Whether I understand or not is my decision! You’re going to tell me everything—what really happened!”

At his desperate plea, the old man met his gaze with heavy eyes and slowly began to speak.

His name was Seok Gyeongdal, once the chief overseer of Jeon Gajang, a righteous faction in Yunnan.

He was also a close friend of Jeon Mugwang, the head of Jeon Gajang at the time.

Back then, Jeon Gajang’s treasured sword technique—the Jeongwang Sword Style—had been lost for over a hundred years. It was the unique martial art of Jeon Pyo-seung, one of the Ten Swords of the World.

Restoring this lost sword style had been Jeon Gajang’s long-cherished goal.

Jeon Mugwang and Seok Gyeongdal, longtime friends, had been working tirelessly to revive it.

One day, they discovered a secret training chamber left by their ancestors.

Inside, they finally recovered the fully realized Jeongwang Sword Style.

It was an incredible breakthrough.

Everyone in Jeon Gajang was overjoyed.

But they didn’t realize then…

That this discovery would sow the seeds of disaster.

The problem was that the secret chamber was located within the territory of the neighboring Maga faction.

At the time, Maga’s leader, Ma Yongcheok, claimed that since the chamber was on their land, the Jeongwang Sword Style belonged to Maga.

It was absurd.

Did that mean if their ancestors’ remains were on their land, those ancestors became Ma clan members?

Jeon Mugwang dismissed it outright.

Ma Yongcheok then dragged in the Jomchang faction, the dominant power in Yunnan, to arbitrate.

Jeon Mugwang was confident.

He believed that the Jomchang faction, the pinnacle of the righteous sects, would never side with Ma Yongcheok.

But he didn’t know then…

That Ma Yongcheok’s son, Ma Wonwoong, was the top disciple of Jomchang’s grandmaster.

In the end, Jomchang sided with Maga.

They pressured Jeon Mugwang to hand over the Jeongwang Sword Style to Maga.

It was infuriating.

Seok Gyeongdal, as chief overseer, proposed a plan.

He would secretly visit the Martial Alliance to plead for mediation.

With no other options, Jeon Mugwang tearfully sent Seok Gyeongdal off.

Seok Gyeongdal hurried to the Martial Alliance, doing his best.

But that was the end of it.

Whether through prior arrangements or influence, no one would meet with Seok Gyeongdal.

Not the Alliance leader, famed as the world’s greatest hero, nor any elders.

His voice was completely cut off.

Frustrated and desperate, Seok Gyeongdal then received terrible news.

Jeon Gajang had been attacked by unknown assailants.

When he rushed back, the faction was in ruins.

Jeon Mugwang survived, but none of the others did.

Seok Gyeongdal’s own family was lost as well.

Weeping with grief and crying out for vengeance, Seok Gyeongdal heard Jeon Mugwang say weakly that the attackers had taken Jeon Mugwang’s young daughter.

They warned that if he didn’t stay quiet, he would never see his last daughter again.

After that, as Jeon Mugwang and Seok Gyeongdal wandered in search of a way to avenge their losses, they encountered the remnants of the Blood Sect.

Though enemies of the martial world, they were now the only means left for vengeance.

Hearing all this, we were at a loss for words.

In the martial world, avenging a friend was like law itself.

How could anyone condemn their quest for revenge after losing family and clan?

I sighed deeply for the tragic Bisa and said, “So that’s why you planned the Muhwangchong massacre. From the start, you targeted Jomchang. You knew they’d never resist greed over what happened in Yunnan.”

The old man gave a hollow smile and nodded.

“Yes. It was inevitable. They acted exactly as we expected. That’s why I’ve never once regretted it. But…”

He looked at Bisa-yeong with heavy eyes.

“I never imagined they’d try to kill every martial artist gathered there, even the weak and powerless. That was beyond my expectations. But all of this is just an excuse. The truth is, my revenge ended up creating others like me. So you have every right to hate me. And to kill me. Go ahead. Kill me. Just as you sacrificed your elders to settle your grudge, kill me to settle ours.”

As he spoke calmly, Dakam and the children clung to him.

“Tokno!”

“Grandfather, no!”

But the old man was unmoving, like a rock.

He simply stared at Bisa-yeong with quiet resignation.

Bisa-yeong, staring blankly into space with hollow eyes, suddenly asked, “But if you were such a great man, why are you here like this? Were you betrayed?”

“I came out myself. My only goal was revenge, but in the meantime, Mugwang seemed to have found another dream. I couldn’t watch or stop it.”

Bisa-yeong sneered, “So you’ve been living here caring for Miao children? Trying to atone?”

The old man smiled weakly and shook his head.

“How many lives have I taken? How could caring for a few children atone for that? I just… couldn’t forget them.”

Hearing that, Bisa-yeong chuckled darkly.

“‘Couldn’t forget them,’ huh? Heh heh heh.”

Then he suddenly exploded.

“Damn it! Do you know how I lived because of you? How my disciples lived? I was an orphan, but my masters took me in. I couldn’t leave that dying place! I did everything—running errands, cleaning! I even begged! Because the sect ran out of food! I begged so my disciples wouldn’t starve! They’re still living like that! And you say you ‘couldn’t forget’ them? Why? Damn it! If you were the Blood Sect’s Madou, you should’ve lived like one to the end! Why did you do that crap? Why live like that?!”

Tears streamed down Bisa-yeong’s face as he wailed.

The old man just closed his eyes tightly and bowed his head.

After a long silence, Bisa-yeong suddenly started chuckling again.

“You know what’s really funny? When I met Joo Tae-gyeong, a disciple of the prestigious Jomchang faction, he mentioned the name Bijongmundo. I asked him where that was, and I told him about Muhwangchong. I didn’t expect much—just wanted to see a hint of regret on his face. But that bastard laughed at my master and even tried to kill me. But now… I meet the Blood Sect’s Madou, and just hearing the name Bijongmundo, he kneels before me and swears to atone with his life. Damn it. This… this is just too much. Isn’t it?”

No one could say a word. Nothing could be said.