Episode 127: The Demon Sect

Dang Mujin followed Swae Honnoong and Sam Anbul down the mountain path. Contrary to his expectations of a place teeming with criminals and outlaws, a rather ordinary town unfolded before him.

“This isn’t quite what I imagined.”

“Everyone says that the first time they come here.”

Dang Mujin glanced around, taking in his surroundings. While most of it seemed normal, there were subtle differences that set this town apart from others.

The first noticeable difference was the atmosphere—far more liberated and lively than a typical town. Perhaps it was because many here disliked being bound by rules and couldn’t endure them.

Additionally, there was a higher proportion of people who looked strong or moved with the grace of martial artists.

As Dang Mujin, Swae Honnoong, and Sam Anbul walked side by side, every eye on the street turned to them.

More precisely, the attention was directed at Sam Anbul. He was a man who naturally drew stares with his massive build, fierce appearance, and reputation.

The gazes moved from Sam Anbul and Swae Honnoong to rest on Dang Mujin.

People seemed curious about why a young man like Dang Mujin was among such renowned figures. Yet, no one was bold enough to approach and ask.

Swae Honnoong spoke to Sam Anbul.

“It’s nice to be back after wandering outside the sect for so long.”

“There’s no one stopping you from coming in. You should visit more often.”

“My duties lie outside, so staying out is part of my role. Anyway, since I’m here, I might as well pay a visit to the leader.”

“Go ahead.”

Swae Honnoong gave Dang Mujin a slight nod before disappearing into the village.

Dang Mujin turned to Sam Anbul with a question.

“The leader—he’s the highest authority in the Demon Sect, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“And yet, he mingles with everyone else?”

“He’s a humble man by nature. Besides, he can’t return to the leader’s hall right now.”

“Is there a reason for that?”

“That’s precisely why I called you here.”

Sam Anbul strode forward with long strides, and Dang Mujin hurried to keep up.

They headed out of the village, ascending a well-maintained path up the mountain. Strangely, not a single person was in sight.

“It’s odd that there’s a path but no people.”

“This used to be a bustling path. Most of the sect’s prominent figures lived up here.”

Sam Anbul stopped and asked, “Do you sense anything?”

Dang Mujin surveyed the area. There was nothing unusual—just trees and the path.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The scent of trees and grass typical of a mountain area filled his lungs, along with the crisp air.

But that wasn’t why he was asked. Dang Mujin focused his senses again.

He detected a faint trace of poison in the air. It wasn’t lethal to a healthy adult or a martial artist, but it was enough to make Dang Mujin’s expression serious. He couldn’t pinpoint the source.

The poison wasn’t in the water or soil but was spreading through the air. It would take an unimaginable amount of poison or an extremely potent one to achieve this.

“There’s poison in the air.”

When Dang Mujin murmured this, Sam Anbul looked surprised.

“You can sense it from this distance?”

“Didn’t you expect me to?”

“Half-jokingly. Your senses are exceptionally sharp for someone of your level.”

The comment was slightly irksome. As Dang Mujin frowned, Sam Anbul asked again.

“Can you identify the poison?”

Dang Mujin inhaled again to analyze the poison’s effects.

It was unfamiliar, yet distinct enough not to be confused with any other.

“This is the first time I’ve encountered this poison. It’s quite peculiar.”

“What’s peculiar about it?”

“Poisons typically infiltrate the body, affecting bones, flesh, and organs. This one does the same, but it doesn’t stop there.”

Dang Mujin continued, almost to himself.

“Like smoke from a pine torch mingling with the air, this poison seems to merge with one’s internal energy. It seems to block meridians or disperse internal energy. It’s hard to say for sure since the poison is still faint.”

“You can sense that much? Impressive…”

Dang Mujin saw great potential in this poison.

Martial artists could use their internal energy to prevent the spread of poison.

Moreover, those skilled in poison techniques could gather the poison and expel it by cutting the skin, while a master like Sam Anbul could concentrate and expel it.

However, this poison merged with internal energy. To expel it, one would need to use internal energy to push it out, but if the poison infiltrated that energy, how could it be expelled? It was an extremely tricky poison, one that might not even have a known antidote.

‘I never imagined such a poison existed.’

The reward proposed by Sam Anbul and Swae Honnoong seemed insignificant compared to this. This poison might be the greatest reward the Demon Sect could offer.

‘If I had this poison during my last fight with Sam Anbul, the outcome might have been different.’

As he pondered this, Dang Mujin felt Sam Anbul’s gaze, as if reading his thoughts.

Dang Mujin quickly changed the subject.

“By the way, where is this poison coming from?”

“I’ll show you. Follow me.”

Sam Anbul led Dang Mujin a short distance before stopping.

“Hold your breath.”

As Dang Mujin took a deep breath, Sam Anbul picked him up and tucked him under his arm.

Then, like the wind, Sam Anbul dashed up the path.

At the path’s end, the view opened up to reveal dozens of grand buildings. Not a soul was in sight, but the structures’ grandeur was all the more apparent.

‘Is this the heart of the Demon Sect?’

Sam Anbul pointed to the largest and tallest building.

“Look there.”

The building bore a plaque reading [Leader’s Hall], and perched on its high roof was a large bird.

‘Is that…?’

Though he’d never seen one in person, Dang Mujin recognized the bird.

In the Demon Sect’s poison manual, there were a few hand-drawn illustrations, including one of this bird. A bird as large as a person, with emerald-green feathers—a Zhen bird.

The Zhen bird was known to consume only poisonous substances, making it extremely toxic. Its poison was so potent that it was said to wither crops beneath its flight.

Still holding Dang Mujin, Sam Anbul turned back and returned to their original spot.

Finally, he exhaled deeply, having held his breath the entire time. His lung capacity was impressive, befitting a master.

Dang Mujin asked, “That bird you showed me, it’s a Zhen bird, isn’t it?”

“Yes. You know of it?”

Dang Mujin almost mentioned the poison manual but stopped himself. That could be a dangerous admission. Instead, he replied vaguely.

“Yes, I happened to learn about it.”

“You have a broad knowledge for someone your age. It’ll make things easier. After the death of the poison master, that bird settled on the leader’s hall. We need to drive it away, but it’s not easy. It senses anyone approaching through the poison and escapes quickly.”

“Hmm.”

“The most urgent task I have for you is to find a way to drive that Zhen bird away.”

The problem was, Dang Mujin had no idea how to do that. The poison manual only detailed the bird’s toxic properties and how to use its poison.

Seeing Dang Mujin’s troubled expression, Sam Anbul patted his back encouragingly.

“Don’t worry. You won’t be doing it alone. There’s a young one who was learning the poison arts. Work together to find a solution.”

Sam Anbul led Dang Mujin to a small cave. The cave was short and sloped slightly downward. It was far enough from the Zhen bird’s perch that the poison hadn’t seeped in.

At the cave’s end was a wooden door with the words “Poison Pit” written on it—a straightforward name.

“Do your best. If you need help, come find me.”

With that, Sam Anbul left, his task seemingly complete.

After a moment’s hesitation, Dang Mujin opened the door.

Creak—

The rusty hinges groaned loudly, and a woman inside turned to look at him.

She appeared to be around Dang Mujin’s age, perhaps a couple of years older. Her skin was pale, almost ghostly, and her features were delicate.

She raised an eyebrow and spoke.

“What do you want?”

“Sam Anbul told me to come here.”

The woman stared at Dang Mujin for a moment, then turned away, resuming her work.

’…What was that?’

On his way to the Demon Sect, Dang Mujin had imagined the poison master’s lab countless times.

In Tang Mujin’s imagination, a grand hall should have been bustling with countless disciples of the Ma-ui, all eagerly bombarding him with questions.

But reality was the complete opposite. There was no grand hall, no throng of disciples, and the only question he got was a simple, “What’s up?”

Tang Mujin settled into a corner, pondering.

“Are they in a hurry? Maybe they’ll introduce themselves after a while.”

He waited patiently, observing the surroundings and occasionally glancing at the woman’s back.

Yet, even after nearly half an hour, the woman showed no sign of acknowledging his presence, as if she had forgotten he was there.

“Hey, is there anything I can help with?”

Tang Mujin finally broke the silence. After all, the sooner he finished whatever task was at hand, the sooner he could head home.

But there was no response. He wasn’t here by choice, but surely this wasn’t how you treated someone who came to help.

Resigned, Tang Mujin leaned against the wall and began to doze off. After traveling so far without a break, it was only natural that sleep would catch up with him.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep when a loud crash jolted him awake.

Crash—

Tang Mujin lifted his head.

A porcelain bowl lay shattered on the ground, and a transparent green liquid, presumably stored inside, pooled on the cave floor. The stone surface of the cave prevented it from soaking in.

A faint, acrid scent of poison lingered in the air.

The woman, her face full of irritation, donned a pair of leather gloves and crouched down with a bundle of white goat wool, muttering to herself.

“Damn it… That was the last bottle.”

Just as she was about to dip the wool into the poison, Tang Mujin spoke up.

“What are you trying to do?”

He half-expected to be ignored again, but she grumbled a reply.

“I’m already annoyed, don’t make it worse by talking.”

“Leaving someone who traveled a long way just sitting here, and you’re annoyed? You could at least explain.”

“I’m busy. If I want to salvage even a drop, I need to hurry.”

”…Are you seriously trying to soak up the poison with that wool?”

“Yeah. If I squeeze it out, I can save a few drops.”

Horrified, Tang Mujin approached and nudged her aside.

She instinctively moved away, and without hesitation, Tang Mujin dipped his right index finger into the green poison. The woman gasped in shock.

“Hey! Do you even know what that is? Get your hand out of there!”

But the poison began to absorb into Tang Mujin’s fingertip. The woman’s voice trailed off as she watched in disbelief.

“You’ll get poisoned…”

In the blink of an eye, the poison that had pooled on the floor vanished without a trace. Tang Mujin glanced at her. Surprised by something like this? For someone who deals with poison, she seemed to lack any real expertise.

He found it amusing, then realized something. Aside from himself, he had never seen or heard of anyone with the ability to handle poison like this. Perhaps it wasn’t as common a skill as he thought.

Still, he kept his thoughts to himself and spoke in a nonchalant tone.

“I thought it must be something serious, but it’s just Banmyeo poison? It’s impressive you managed to gather so much of a poison that’s hard to get even a drop of from a hundred cats.”

He gestured to the Ma-ui’s disciple.

“Bring me a clean bowl.”

The disciple, seemingly intimidated by Tang Mujin’s confident demeanor, fetched a clean porcelain bowl.

As Tang Mujin brought his fingertip to the bowl, droplets of the transparent green liquid fell into it.

Though some had splattered, most of the poison that had pooled on the floor was now back in the bowl.

The disciple watched in a daze.

Tang Mujin, observing the expression, grinned.

“So, do you think that helps?”