Episode 277: Bloodstained

Tang Mujin and his companions made their way along the mountain path of Gilyeonsan.

Though their pace was somewhat slow, the constant chatter of the two children kept the journey lively and entertaining.

Suddenly, Hong Geolge, who had gone ahead, returned, signaling with a wave of his hand. It meant a village lay ahead.

Without needing to be told, the group halted.

“Why did we stop?” Yaryulan asked, looking at Hyeongong.

Hyeongong had a special fondness for the two children, and they, in turn, adored him. It seemed the old saying that children can see through deceitful adults was just a myth.

Hyeongong replied succinctly, “Even adults get tired after walking a lot.”

“I can still walk more,” Yaryulan protested.

“That’s because you were just napping on my back a moment ago.”

The stamina of Yaryulan and Yaryulhwan was impressive. They kept up with the group with their little steps, and even when they grew tired, a short rest on someone’s back would quickly revive them. In some ways, their endurance surpassed that of the adults.

But their decision to pause before approaching the village wasn’t due to fatigue. If the village was deserted, it would likely be filled with corpses, and if it was occupied by enemy warriors, they would have to fight, creating more bodies. It was best to handle things while the children slept and move on.

Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long. After feeding the children an early dinner, they soon dozed off, allowing Tang Mujin and his group to approach the village. There was no sign of life.

‘Another empty village. The enemy must have already left. I wonder if the bodies are outside the village.’

Just as they were about to leave, Namgungmyeong sensed someone approaching. Whoever it was, they were confident enough to approach despite seeing the group.

‘Could it be the Ghost King?’

Namgungmyeong drew his sword and hid behind a building. But it wasn’t the Ghost King who appeared; it was a middle-aged man.

He hadn’t approached because he was confident in his skills, but because he hadn’t noticed the group.

Namgungmyeong sheathed his sword and stepped out.

The man jumped in surprise upon seeing him.

“Who are you?”

“Just a traveler passing through.”

“A traveler in Gilyeonsan?”

The man scrutinized Namgungmyeong, finally noticing the sword at his waist. He tensed up, clearly wary.

“Don’t worry. We mean no harm.”

Jinhae stepped forward, holding the sleeping children under his arms, trying to reassure the man. But the sight only made the man more suspicious.

“Uh…!”

“Please, don’t misunderstand. We’re not kidnappers. There was trouble in the village ahead, and we took in these two survivors.”

“Ah… I see.”

Now it was Tang Mujin’s turn to examine the man. His clothes were stained with blood, not from splatter, but from carrying bodies. He must have been burying the villagers.

“So, what brings you here alone?” Tang Mujin asked.

“I’m an herbalist. I roam Gilyeonsan, gathering herbs to sell outside.”

“And how did you survive the trouble in the village?”

The herbalist’s face darkened. “I was out gathering herbs and returned this morning to find everyone dead. I’ve been burying them since.”

As Tang Mujin stepped closer, he caught a whiff of the herbalist’s scent, a bitter aroma that even the smell of blood couldn’t mask.

‘He’s telling the truth about being an herbalist.’

Herbalists often carried the scent of the plants they worked with, and this man was no exception.

“You’re fortunate to have survived,” Tang Mujin said.

“Do you know what happened?”

“It seems martial artists passed through and attacked the villagers. The same thing happened in the village ahead, leaving only these two children alive.”

“Ah…”

The herbalist sighed, finally understanding the situation.

Tang Mujin pointed west. “Is the next village in that direction?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Thank you. If we find any other survivors, we’ll let them know you’re alive.”

With the herbalist having taken care of the burials, Tang Mujin’s group could move on without delay.

As they prepared to leave, the herbalist spoke up, his voice tense. “I can guide you to the next village. Would you like me to come with you?”

“It might be dangerous. You should wait a day or two before going.”

But the herbalist insisted. “My master is in the next village. I need to see if they’re safe.”

“A master, you say.”

Like martial artists or blacksmiths, herbalists often learned their trade from a master. Without proper training, they risked gathering the wrong herbs and causing harm.

The herbalist pleaded again. “You’re not from around here. The path can be confusing. Let me guide you.”

”…If you insist.”

And so, their group gained an unexpected member.

This was actually beneficial for them. With the herbalist carrying the children, Tang Mujin’s group could focus their full strength if a fight broke out.

The next village wasn’t far, but it was different from the last. Even at night, there were signs of life.

Instead of approaching directly, they climbed a nearby hillside to observe. Sure enough, people were moving about.

The herbalist squinted. “Strangers.”

It seemed the village was occupied by enemy warriors. His gaze then fell on a small house where a sturdy-looking old woman stood.

The herbalist sighed in relief. “My master is safe.”

“Is that your master?” Tang Mujin asked.

“Yes, she’s an herbalist and healer. I only learned the herbalist trade, as healing was too difficult for me.”

The herbalist’s master was an unusual figure. Female healers and herbalists were rare, often shunned due to superstitions about their work.

Yet, there were exceptions, like the legendary Yi Hu or Bao Gu. But they were so few that Tang Mujin had never met a female healer before.

The real concern wasn’t the herbalist’s master, but the person in front of her.

All they could see was his back, but the shriveled arm and neck, and the single remaining arm, suggested it was the infamous Twin Pole Hermit.

Though with only one arm left, the name seemed a bit of a misnomer now.

Tang Mujin narrowed his eyes, watching the old woman’s treatment. There was no miraculous technique to regrow a limb, just herbs ground and applied to the wound. Whatever the herb was, it likely only prevented infection.

Jinhae spoke to the group. “You’re not planning to rush in, are you? Will you wait until they’re asleep?”

“Rush in?” Tang Mujin echoed.

“Yes. We can take them. There can’t be many of them in the village.”

Jinhae’s assessment had merit. The village had only four houses, none large enough to hold many people. At most, there might be a dozen or so.

Assuming the Twin Pole Hermit and a couple of top-tier fighters were present, with the rest being first-rate, a surprise attack could tip the scales in their favor.

With Tang Mujin’s skills, they could eliminate a couple of top fighters before the battle even began.

‘Not just favorable, but advantageous.’

According to other martial artists, two members of Tang Mujin’s group had previously held off the Twin Pole Hermit’s attacks. It was Hong Geolge and Namgungmyeong, if he recalled correctly.

With three of them, they could handle the Twin Pole Hermit comfortably, and with four, they would have a clear advantage.

There were five top-tier fighters in their group, including Jinhae.

Moreover, the Twin Pole Hermit had lost an arm. A fighter accustomed to wielding two weapons now had only one, effectively halving his strength.

Even two of them could likely subdue him.

Jinhae’s heart raced. Though Tang Mujin’s group had advised him to ignore others’ opinions, he couldn’t completely shake off his lingering doubts.

If Jin-hae could lend a hand in taking down the notorious master of the dark sect here, his name would surely gain some renown.

However, Tang Mu-jin, who had been quietly listening to Jin-hae’s plan, disagreed.

“No, that’s not a wise choice.”

“Why not?”

“There’s a flaw in your assumption.”

“What is it?”

“Why do you think the dark sect warriors would split evenly into three groups?”

“Isn’t that the most natural thing to do?”

Tang Mu-jin shook his head.

“Not at all. Imagine you’re the Ghost King. Would you stick with the Twin Blood Lords, or would you split up?”

“Ah!”

Tang Mu-jin’s words struck a chord Jin-hae hadn’t considered.

The Twin Blood Lords and the Ghost King had fled far from their base, all the way to Mount Gireon. It was clear they were wary of pursuers.

Given the difficulty of finding food and water, splitting up might seem necessary.

Would two top-tier masters really separate to ensure the safety of their subordinates?

Unlikely.

In the end, the most important thing is their own survival. They would naturally want to stay with the strongest fighters. Those with lesser skills wouldn’t dare to object.

“There might not be a single low-level warrior in that village. It’s not surprising if they’ve left behind the weaker ones and gathered only the best.”

The more Jin-hae thought about it, the more it seemed less like a suspicion and more like a certainty. He was convinced the Ghost King was in that village.

Facing two top-tier masters with just five men was clearly a dangerous move, even if the Twin Blood Lords weren’t in peak condition.

A chill ran down Jin-hae’s spine. His ambition had nearly cost him his life.

“So, what will you do?” Jin-hae asked.

Xian-kong, settling into a more comfortable position, replied, “We should keep an eye on the village to see if the Ghost King is there, and wait for the others who took different routes to find us. If we don’t leave Mount Gireon, they’ll come back to look for us.”

It was a sensible decision.

The enemy was scattered, and many of them would likely be picked off individually in the mountains.

If they could gather their remaining forces and surround the enemy, they could easily take the heads of the Ghost King and the Twin Blood Lords.

Jin-hae relaxed, letting go of his worries.

But unlike Jin-hae, Tang Mu-jin and his friends didn’t look so relieved.

They knew all too well that no matter how meticulously you plan, things rarely go as expected.