Chapter 294: Flames of Conflict

Despite Hyun Gong’s ulterior motives, Tang Mujin and his allies in the orthodox martial world faced a dire situation.

This wasn’t some leisurely tale about the Demon Cult’s leader potentially unleashing chaos in the future. The immediate threat was the wave of unorthodox warriors led by Gwang Yeom-ra, which they had to fend off at all costs.

But knowing what needs to be done doesn’t magically solve all problems.

Tang Mujin was deep in thought.

’…Forget the cult leader for now. Can we even survive this battle?’

Reflecting on how they’d managed to scrape through past challenges, he felt a flicker of hope. Yet, as always, he wasn’t entirely confident.

‘The real issue is the heavy losses we’ve suffered so far.’

Before the Great War, the orthodox faction boasted six supreme masters.

Sword Demon Namgung Jincheon, Divine Monk, Wandering Immortal, Young Heoja, Young Bojin, and the Brilliant Sword Yu Jingwang.

Except for Yu Jingwang, all had been supreme masters for over a decade.

‘Three of them are dead now.’

Divine Monk, Wandering Immortal, and Young Heoja had perished in the recent conflict.

Fortunately, Manryeokseung and Hong Geolgae had broken through to the supreme level, but the number of supreme masters in the orthodox faction had dwindled to five.

’…Manryeokseung and Hong Geolgae.’

Tang Mujin glanced at Hong Geolgae.

Sensing Tang Mujin’s gaze, Hong Geolgae grumbled.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just because.”

“Just because? Your eyes are full of mischief.”

In situations like this, it’s often easier to deflect with nonsense.

“These are the eyes of a man who captivates women. Learn if you can, though I doubt you will.”

“Great. You’ve finally lost it.”

As expected, Hong Geolgae chuckled briefly at Tang Mujin’s words before losing interest.

In truth, Hong Geolgae’s comment about his gaze being mischievous wasn’t entirely off the mark. Tang Mujin did harbor some doubts about Hong Geolgae.

‘Manryeokseung could stand shoulder to shoulder with the Six Masters of old, but Hong Geolgae… he doesn’t quite feel on the same level. Or should I say the Five Masters now?’

There were three main reasons why Hong Geolgae didn’t seem to match the former Six Masters.

First, Tang Mujin and Hong Geolgae had been close friends for too long.

Having trained together since their early days, it was hard to see Hong Geolgae as an equal to the revered Six Masters he had once admired from afar.

Second, Tang Mujin’s own martial prowess had grown significantly.

In the past, the Six Masters and supreme masters seemed like distant figures, but now, the gap between Tang Mujin and the supreme masters didn’t feel so vast.

After defeating the Blood-faced Wolf, his confidence had only grown. If the circumstances were right, and the opponent was a lower-tier supreme master, he might stand a chance.

Lastly, Hong Geolgae’s achievements as a supreme master weren’t particularly impressive.

‘It feels like Hong Geolgae’s skills are on par with the Blood-faced Wolf or the late Mu Liangja.’

So, what would happen if Hong Geolgae faced Gwang Yeom-ra?

The answer was clear: he’d lose.

‘And if Manryeokseung faced Gwang Yeom-ra?’

The outcome wouldn’t be much different. Manryeokseung might fare better than Hong Geolgae, but he’d still be outmatched by Gwang Yeom-ra.

Moreover, there was no guarantee that Gwang Yeom-ra was the only supreme master on the opposing side.

Given the current situation, it was likely that Gwang Yeom-ra would appear with other unorthodox or demonic masters. His past actions suggested he was a meticulous planner.

Tang Mujin’s thoughts turned to who Gwang Yeom-ra might bring with him.

‘How many supreme masters are there in the unorthodox martial world? Knowing their strength is crucial for preparing for the battle.’

But there was no way to find out. Supreme masters from the unorthodox world didn’t exactly announce their names and titles to the orthodox world.

Like villages separated by a high mountain, news between the orthodox and unorthodox worlds traveled slowly.

It was hard enough to gauge the number of supreme masters in the unorthodox world, let alone those at the peak or first-class level.

‘Maybe Guiwang would know?’

Tang Mujin approached Guiwang to ask.

But Guiwang, too, seemed uncertain about the forces Gwang Yeom-ra might bring.

Guiwang was from the northwest, while Gwang Yeom-ra was from the northeast.

Their areas of activity in the unorthodox world were different, so it was only natural that Guiwang wouldn’t know.

Tang Mujin felt a growing sense of frustration. An unpredictable battle always set one’s nerves on edge.

As Tang Mujin wrestled with his thoughts, Namgung Myung and Hong Geolgae approached him.

“What are you thinking about?”

Tang Mujin waved them off.

“Nothing important, don’t worry.”

“Who’s worried? We’re just curious about what’s on your mind.”

Of course, they weren’t approaching out of concern.

Tang Mujin craned his neck, searching for Hyun Gong. The one person who might be of help was idly chatting with Seolhwa.

Feeling like he was asking a child for help, Tang Mujin explained the situation.

“The problem is…”

Namgung Myung seemed indifferent even after hearing the explanation, but Hong Geolgae, in his own way, tried to think it through and reached a conclusion.

Hong Geolgae using his brain. Perhaps this is what they mean by necessity being the mother of invention.

“If we can’t figure out their numbers, we have two options.”

“What are they?”

“First, we train hard.”

It was advice typical of Hong Geolgae. Tang Mujin sighed reflexively.

“Who knows when Gwang Yeom-ra will attack, and you want to leisurely train… No, never mind. Training is necessary, so you’re not wrong. What’s the second option?”

“We ask for help.”

Tang Mujin asked back.

“Do we have people who can help?”

“I don’t know, but you might. You’ve got connections.”

In other words, figure it out yourself.

Conversations with Hong Geolgae often went like this.

He wasn’t wrong, but his advice was always a mix of helpful and not-so-helpful.

And to be fair, this time, it was somewhat helpful.

“People who can help…”

The first to come to mind were the people of the Tang family. The Three-eyed Buddha, Jang Il-nam, and the warriors from the Demon Cult.

If Tang Mujin asked for help, they wouldn’t refuse. But there was a significant problem: the distance between Sichuan and Kaifeng was too great.

“The Tang family is out. It’s too far for them to arrive in time.”

“If the Tang family is out, what about Lady Hwayeon?”

Tang Mujin’s group didn’t know the exact extent of Lady Hwayeon’s skills, but they were sure she surpassed Gwang Yeom-ra by a significant margin.

But again, Tang Mujin shook his head.

“Chongqing is just as far. Besides, even if it were closer, I doubt Lady Hwayeon would readily help.”

“Why not?”

“Unlike us, Lady Hwayeon is a neutral figure between the orthodox and unorthodox worlds.”

Even though the Demon Cult was involved, most of the fighters were from the orthodox and unorthodox factions.

Asking Lady Hwayeon, who positioned herself between the two, to side with the orthodox was likely to be refused.

The only time Lady Hwayeon had offered martial assistance was when they escaped the Demon Cult. She might be neutral between the orthodox and unorthodox, but not between the orthodox and demonic.

Tang Mujin continued to ponder with his arms crossed.

Requesting help from the Daoist sects in the northwest was also problematic. The Kongtong Sect was in disarray, the Zhongnan Sect had lost its leader, and many Daoists from Huashan and Wudang had perished.

They couldn’t expect help from the Qingcheng or Mount Heaven Sects as before.

‘It’s a shame about the Mount Heaven Sect. If I’d known things would turn out like this, I would’ve asked Yu Daehyup to stay a bit longer instead of returning to Yunnan.’

At that moment, Hong Geolgae clapped his hands together.

“There is someone who can help!”

Tang Mujin asked, not expecting much.

“Who?”

“If we head south, there’s the Namgung family in Anhui!”

“Oh, right, the Namgung family!”

Tang Mujin and Hong Geolgae’s eyes drifted sideways. The last person to speak wasn’t Tang Mujin or Hong Geolgae, but Namgung Myung.

’…Does he even remember where his family is?’

In any case, it was an excellent idea. The Namgung family was relatively close to Kaifeng and was known for its formidable martial prowess. They were considered the second most powerful group in the orthodox world after Shaolin.

Moreover, the Namgung family owed Tang Mujin a favor.

However, there was a concern. Tang Mujin asked Namgung Myung.

“Do you think the Namgung family can help? They’re the ones holding back the unorthodox forces in the southeast.”

“Actually, that’s not much of a concern. The unorthodox forces in Jiangxi and Zhejiang aren’t very strong. The Namgung family handles things promptly.”

“What do you mean?”

“They don’t wait for a great war to break out. If a potentially dangerous unorthodox master appears in Zhejiang or Jiangxi, the Namgung warriors go and challenge them to a life-and-death duel.”

Tang Mujin and Hong Geolgae were taken aback.

A life-and-death duel, indeed. It meant eliminating threats before they could grow.

While it might be an enticing offer for desperate unorthodox masters, the Namgung warriors wouldn’t return without leaving a mark.

“How strong is the Namgung family?”

“You know my father is a supreme master. There are over ten peak masters as well.”

Hong Geolgae seized the opportunity to interject.

“Hold on a second. Let’s drop the term ‘master.’ It’s an exaggeration that needs correcting.”

“Well, most of our uncles and clan leaders are top-tier martial artists. Even among those of my generation, there are a few who’ve surpassed the pinnacle.”

Though the Shaolin might stand out, the Namgung family is formidable in its own right. Truly, they hold a unique position among the martial clans.

Dang Mujin pondered the situation, calculating the days.

“It’ll be tough for us to go there ourselves, so we should try sending a carrier pigeon. Do you think there’s one that flies near the Namgung family?”

“There might be pigeons coming from the Namgung area to Kaifeng, but none going the other way.”

Naturally, carrier pigeons don’t understand human speech or navigate on their own. They simply return to a place they recognize as home.

Even if you send pigeons all over the central plains, it’s not like they find their way to every corner. It’s more about people delivering messages to major cities where the pigeons are trained to return.

While there are plenty of pigeons trained to return to big cities like Kaifeng, there are virtually none for remote areas like Tianzhushan, where the Namgung family resides.

“Still, we can receive a reply via pigeon. We might need to send someone. Or, Namgung Myung, would you consider going back to the Namgung family to ask for help?”

“No.”

Namgung Myung shook his left hand instead of his right, hinting at the subtle tension between him and his father.

“If I go, it might complicate things. It’s better if you send a letter in your name asking for assistance.”

“Alright.”

“And while you’re at it, I’ll give you a list of other families and sects to contact for help.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

Unbeknownst to him, Dang Mujin’s eyes grew misty.

It had been so long since Hong Geolgae or Namgung Myung had been of any help without wielding weapons.

‘Yes, this is how it should be if you’re human…’

As soon as Dang Mujin reached Kaifeng, he sent someone to Anhui Province.

The man, carrying Dang Mujin’s letter, rode southward.

About ten days after the man set off, Dang Mujin received a reply via carrier pigeon.

As expected, the response from the Namgung family was positive.

[By the next new moon, warriors from the Namgung family will arrive in Kaifeng.]

Not all of them would come, but surely Namgung Jinchun wouldn’t miss such a significant event, promising substantial support.

‘I’ve done all I can to prepare.’

Dang Mujin set the letter down with a satisfied smile, feeling a sense of relief.

Dang Mujin’s days in Kaifeng were a whirlwind of activity.

Even with his rigorous training schedule, he also had patients to care for, leaving him with barely two hours of sleep each day.

Monks from the Shaolin Temple and members of the Beggars’ Sect frequently expressed their concern.

“Mr. Dang, are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“If you push yourself too hard, you might end up doing more harm than good. It would be wise to take a day off every three days.”

“Thank you for your advice. I’ll do that if it becomes too much.”

Yet, Dang Mujin had no complaints.

Being a physician was his true calling, and he could see the fruits of his labor in the work he had been doing.

Several doctors had come to Kaifeng upon hearing of his presence, and among them were two familiar faces. Though their names were hazy, they had once studied medicine at the Dang family estate.

The two doctors, along with a few others who accompanied them, greeted Dang Mujin with deep bows.

Even when showing respect, it was rare to bow so deeply, a gesture reserved for those of much higher status. Yet, Dang Mujin was young enough to be their son or nephew.

Flustered, Dang Mujin waved his hands.

“Please, there’s no need for such formality. Treat me casually.”

“Though we may be older, the head of the Dang family is like a mentor to us, so this level of respect is appropriate.”

“And those who came with you…?”

“They’re learning medicine from us, so technically, the head of the Dang family would be their grandmaster.”

The doctors chuckled, half in jest, half in earnest, but the words stirred something deep within Dang Mujin.

What moved him most, however, was not their deference but their approach to treating patients. Their methods bore a familiar touch.

Dang Mujin asked one of the older doctors, “What remedy did you just prescribe?”

“Sa-gun-ja-tang. Is there something wrong with it?”

“No, it’s an excellent choice.”

Prescribing Sa-gun-ja-tang instead of Li-zhong-tang for patients with a slender build, poor appetite, chronic fatigue, and edema. Using Bai-zhou-san and Da-huang instead of Da-huang-fu-zi-tang or Da-jian-zhong-tang for those with blood stagnation. These and many other prescriptions.

As far as Dang Mujin knew, only Gwai and he used such treatments.

With dozens of doctors having left the Dang estate to return to their hometowns, it wasn’t just Kaifeng that had adopted these medical practices.

Gwai’s medical knowledge was spreading across the central plains, through Dang Mujin, and through Tang Jiesun and Chu Sam.

Though this realization filled Dang Mujin with pride and joy, it also left him feeling inexplicably lonely.

Unable to sleep, Dang Mujin climbed a nearby hill.

At the top stood a solitary walnut tree.

Walnut trees are known for their toxicity, often preventing other trees from growing nearby. It was the loneliest of trees.

But for Dang Mujin, it was a blessing. The walnut tree’s isolation provided a clear view. He sat down in front of it.

He pulled out a bottle of liquor he’d brought along.

It was an expensive drink, the kind that pretentious types might enjoy.

But there were no fancy snacks to accompany it. Just the moon and the bottle.

Under the moonlight, Dang Mujin drank alone.

He didn’t sip leisurely, savoring the moment like others might.

Instead, he drank with the urgency of a parched man reaching a stream, gulping down the liquor.

With just two swigs from the bottle, a significant amount of the drink disappeared into his stomach. It would take a little longer for the alcohol to take effect.

Dang Mujin looked up at the sky. The moon, slightly waning but still round, gazed back at him.

The scent of the liquor, reminiscent of pear blossoms, lingered in his mouth and nose.

As he waited, the intoxication slowly crept up to his head.

Dang Mujin smiled broadly, then leaned against the walnut tree and fell into a deep sleep.