Episode 318: The Healers

Before they even left the village, following the path through the forest, Hyun Gong appeared.

He didn’t demand an explanation from Dang Moo-jin about what had happened. Instead, he simply observed him.

A few drops of blood stained Dang Moo-jin’s clothes. In front of him stood an older man, his face etched with fear.

With just that much information, Hyun Gong could deduce most of what had transpired.

“Heading out of the village, I see. Looks like the two healers have been taken somewhere?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s go together.”

Guided by the forest path, Dang Moo-jin and Hyun Gong made their way into the mountains.

The guide, constantly glancing around for an escape route, knew better than to try anything in front of them.

“Don’t even think about trying anything foolish. There’s no one left to take your place now.”

“Y-yes…”

After a considerable walk, they arrived at a hidden village nestled between low hills.

Calling it a village was generous. It was just a few crumbling houses, likely one of the hideouts of the forest bandits.

The presence of several people could be felt. Dang Moo-jin casually placed a hand on the guide’s shoulder.

“I hope you didn’t think this was some kind of trap.”

“N-no… Of course not.”

The guide had entertained the thought, but the calm demeanor of Dang Moo-jin and Hyun Gong quickly dispelled any hope. They moved forward without hesitation.

A few men sitting near a dilapidated hut noticed them.

“Who are they? Who did you bring here?”

At the sound of their voices, more bandits emerged from hiding.

Ignoring their questions, Dang Moo-jin turned to the guide.

“Where are the two healers?”

The guide pointed to a building. It was the most rundown and smallest of the lot, more of a shed or storage than a proper building. Not a place for holding many people.

Hyun Gong immediately understood what needed to be done.

He executed the Jeon Un-jong, a technique of the Wudang sect, making his body seem to stretch and elongate like taffy.

In no time, he was in front of the building where the healers were held, sword drawn to prevent them from being taken hostage.

The bandits were visibly shaken by Hyun Gong’s swift movements.

“W-what the…!”

One doesn’t need to draw a sword to gauge an opponent’s skill.

Hyun Gong’s strange and rapid technique, coupled with Dang Moo-jin’s unflinching demeanor despite being outnumbered, spoke volumes.

The bandits exchanged nervous glances. If one of them fled, chaos would ensue.

Then, a bandit with a somewhat impressive beard pointed at Dang Moo-jin and shouted.

“We can take them! If you’re going to run, break through that side!”

Like water bursting through a dam, the hesitant bandits charged towards Dang Moo-jin.

It wasn’t an attempt to rescue their comrades. They simply saw Dang Moo-jin as the easier target compared to Hyun Gong, who had demonstrated his skill.

Dang Moo-jin watched them approach, spinning two chakrams in each hand. The bandits who had witnessed the chakrams’ power trembled.

In a blink, the chakrams vanished from his fingers.

With a slight delay, the heads of four bandits flew through the air. They were still over fifty paces away from Dang Moo-jin.

“Wha…?”

The bandits were utterly bewildered. The heads of those in front suddenly fell, blood spraying everywhere.

Their advance halted as they struggled to comprehend what had happened.

They couldn’t move forward or retreat. The chakrams returned to Dang Moo-jin’s hands, only to disappear again, claiming four more lives.

“Aaah!”

Realizing their mistake, the bandits scattered in all directions. They finally understood that breaking through Dang Moo-jin was not an escape route.

But the chakrams, as if guided by eyes, targeted the fleeing bandits. From the start, there was no escape for them.

Hyun Gong watched the scene unfold from a distance.

The chakrams glinted in the light, blood spraying in their wake.

Screams filled the air, soon replaced by the rising scent of blood.

Hyun Gong thought to himself.

‘Indeed. He’s completely different.’

Martial arts are designed for one-on-one duels with strong opponents. Fist techniques, leg techniques, swordsmanship, spear techniques—all are crafted for such encounters.

The ultimate dream of a martial artist is to stand as the unrivaled champion.

But Dang Moo-jin’s martial arts had a different focus.

He had mastered three main skills: swordsmanship, poison techniques, and throwing weapons.

Of these, only the swordsmanship, taught by his master, was meant for single combat.

Comparing the throwing techniques of an assassin to Dang Moo-jin’s chakrams highlights the difference.

An assassin’s throw is silent and discreet, taking a single life. Dang Moo-jin’s chakrams, however, seem almost flamboyant.

But the true distinction lies not in the flair, but in the purpose. Dang Moo-jin’s chakrams are specialized for handling multiple opponents.

‘A martial art for facing many…’

Though it might not have been his intention, Dang Moo-jin’s path diverged from any martial art that had existed before.

While Hyun Gong pondered, the situation resolved itself.

Only one bandit survived—the guide who had led them there.

Hyun Gong sheathed his sword without having to use it. Dang Moo-jin wiped the blood from his chakrams on a dead man’s clothes.

Creeeak—

Hyun Gong opened the door to the shed, peering inside.

A familiar figure lay unconscious. Even from the back, it was clear it was Healer Yeom.

Behind him, like logs stacked together, were bundles of wooden plaques tied with leather straps.

Hyun Gong approached Healer Yeom, frowning at the sight. The method the bandits used to knock him out was far from gentle.

Dang Moo-jin, who had joined him, reacted similarly.

“Doesn’t look like they used pressure points.”

“Those guys wouldn’t know how to use them even if they tried.”

Healer Yeom’s body was covered in bruises.

His lips were split, and blood trickled from his nose.

Sigh—

Dang Moo-jin let out a deep sigh.

He turned to the guide.

“Why did you beat him up so badly? It’s not like Healer Yeom would have done anything to deserve it.”

The guide stammered in response.

“Beating them makes them more cooperative…”

Dang Moo-jin’s expression twisted, prompting the guide to hastily add.

“It wasn’t my idea! The leader always said that if you beat them until they beg for mercy, they’ll become obedient!”

“Really? And where’s your leader now?”

The guide pointed outside the shed. There lay a corpse.

It was the one who had shouted to break through Dang Moo-jin’s side. Dang Moo-jin considered kicking the body but decided against it.

“Why did you take Healer Yeom?”

“We heard there was a skilled healer in the new village.”

The answer was so straightforward that there was little to say.

“You trade with outsiders, don’t you? Why go through the trouble of kidnapping?”

“This way is simpler. No cost involved. But it wasn’t my idea, it was the leader’s—”

The guide hurriedly tried to explain, but Dang Moo-jin couldn’t hold back and kicked the guide’s shin.

He felt the bone snap under his foot.

“Aaaargh!”

The guide collapsed, clutching his leg, gasping in pain.

But Dang Moo-jin felt no satisfaction. A troubling thought lingered.

There were supposed to be two healers. Yet only Healer Yeom was in the shed.

That’s right. Healer Yang was missing.

Dang Moo-jin asked.

“Where’s the other one?”

“Huff, huff!”

Despite the pain, the guide reacted to Dang Moo-jin’s question. He knew that pleasing him was his only chance of survival.

But the guide’s answer was somewhat off-topic.

“I-I really… I said we shouldn’t do it!”

Dang Moo-jin pressed his foot on the guide’s uninjured shin.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“There, there!”

The guide pointed to a well a short distance away. Its lid was closed.

A sense of dread washed over him. He had a feeling he knew what had happened.

But he needed to confirm it. Dang Moo-jin and Hyun Gong approached the well and opened the lid.

Healer Yang lay dead at the bottom of the dry well. It seemed he wasn’t the only one to meet his end there, as a considerable number of bones were piled beneath him.

“Sigh…”

Hyun-gong let out a sigh full of regret and climbed down into the well. Before long, he emerged, carrying the decaying body of Doctor Yang, whose flesh had begun to rot and ooze. He laid the body gently on the ground.

Tang Mujin and Hyun-gong stood over the corpse, taking in the sight. A large hole gaped in Yang’s abdomen, and his once robust face was now ghostly pale, drained of all blood. The stench of decay was overpowering, though the cold season kept it somewhat at bay. In the heat of summer, it would have been unbearable.

Hyun-gong considered digging a grave but shook his head. This was no place for Yang’s final resting place.

He turned to Tang Mujin. “Should we wake Elder Yeom?”

In their world, one could forcibly awaken someone by pressing certain pressure points, but Tang Mujin thought better of it. “No, let’s wait until he wakes naturally.”

People faint when overwhelmed, and in Tang Mujin’s experience, it was best to let them come around on their own.

Tang Mujin’s gaze shifted to the lone surviving bandit, who crawled over and clutched at his pant leg. “Please, I’ll do anything you say! Just spare my life!”

Tang Mujin almost snapped the bandit’s neck but instead shook him off with a flick of his leg. He headed toward the storage shed, recalling the stack of bamboo slips he had seen behind Elder Yeom.

“Why are those bamboo slips here?” he asked.

The bandit replied, “We brought them when we captured the doctor, thinking they might be useful.”

“From the village below, I presume?”

“Yes.”

Tang Mujin examined the slips, which were filled with medical knowledge. But his interest lay in the back of the slips, where he found a diary written by a mysterious figure.

[Doctor Shim suggested I learn martial arts, perhaps intending to pair me with Lady Ye-hye.]

[The person meant to teach me was not impressive. I didn’t expect a renowned master, but my teacher was an old potter named Elder Jeong. People said he was a second-rate martial artist in his youth.]

[I tried to learn earnestly, but Elder Jeong seemed displeased with me. After about two weeks, he told Doctor Shim that I lacked talent, and that was the end of it. I wasn’t too disappointed. What use is it for a doctor to learn the art of killing?]

The diary ended there, offering little insight. As Tang Mujin prepared to deal with the bandit and leave, the bandit spoke again.

“Are you interested in the diary?”

Tang Mujin paused. “Do you know something?”

“The one we captured claimed it was his diary. We were about the same age, so we talked a bit.”

“Do you know what happened after the diary entries?”

“When the bandit camp first settled here, the leader intended to capture Doctor Shim.”

The old bandit recounted slowly, perhaps thinking that as long as he talked, he wouldn’t be killed. Tang Mujin didn’t rush him.

“They almost captured Doctor Shim, but he resisted fiercely and was accidentally killed. His daughter was already half-mad from the ordeal.”

Tang Mujin could guess the nature of the ordeal without needing details. The bandit seemed disinclined to elaborate on his misdeeds.

“So they decided to use the one who wrote the diary. They locked him in this shed for nearly a month. They brought these bamboo slips then, thinking they could use him if he had medical skills.”

“Did they kill all the villagers then?”

The bandit shook his head. “No, the villagers didn’t resist, so there was no need. They were all cowards, hiding in their homes and trembling whenever we appeared. Even when misfortune befell their neighbors.”

“How did the captured person escape?”

“The man who was supposed to teach him martial arts, the potter called Jeong, came secretly and killed the bandit leader and two others, rescuing him. The current leader was the cousin of the one killed back then.”

“So Jeong was a hidden master?”

“Not a top-tier one, but skilled enough among second-rate fighters. He was very good with a sword. Not as good as you, though…”

Reflecting on past events, Tang Mujin recalled that when he and Hong Geolgae killed the leader of the Jangsan bandits, the leader was about a first-rate fighter. For a small bandit camp, second-rate skills were likely sufficient.

The bandit noticed Tang Mujin’s interest was more in the captured doctor than in Jeong or the bandit leader.

“The one captured back then… I think his surname was Hwang. Anyway, I heard he was more tormented after being rescued than when he was captured. He cried for three days and nights.”

Tang Mujin could imagine the situation. The potter, Jeong, wasn’t exceptionally skilled, but even that level of skill was enough to fend off the bandits. However, the young doctor, lacking even that, lost his mentor and fiancée. The shame of losing them to such mediocre foes must have been overwhelming.

“And after that?”

“He disappeared. A few months later, someone poisoned the village well, killing everyone. Only a few bandits survived. There were rumors that the Hwang fellow was responsible.”

Those rumors were likely true. It was a tragic and frustrating tale of mediocre villains and a young man unable to overcome even them.

Tang Mujin and Hyun-gong finally understood why the doctor fled west. He couldn’t forgive even the neighbors who turned away in the face of misfortune.

As the sun set, Elder Yeom stirred and awoke. He looked around, bewildered to find himself outside the shed, and soon spotted the decaying body of Doctor Yang, his face filled with despair.

Tang Mujin approached Elder Yeom, bowing his head. Though it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt.

Elder Yeom remained silent for a long time, so Tang Mujin asked, “What happened?”

“We stayed in the village for a few days, then suddenly bandits appeared and took us…”

Elder Yeom took a deep breath and continued slowly, “Yang was quick-witted. Realizing only one of us might survive, he stood up and fought the bandits.”

The outcome was predictable. Both Yang and Yeom had some martial training, but their skills were barely above that of street thugs. They stood little chance against the numerous bandits.

Elder Yeom gazed at Yang’s body for a long time, then looked around. The ground was littered with bandit corpses, blood seeping into the earth, the air thick with the stench of blood.

He turned to Tang Mujin and Hyun-gong. Hyun-gong’s clothes were spotless, while Tang Mujin’s had a few bloodstains but no wounds. Not even a scratch.

Elder Yeom began to weep uncontrollably. His friend had died in his place, and he felt both pity and guilt. He resented his own helplessness against the bandits that Tang Mujin had dispatched so effortlessly. It pained him that he didn’t need the extraordinary skills of Tang Mujin and his friends, just enough to make a difference.

Tang Mujin and Hyun-gong sat silently with Elder Yeom, watching over him.

Tang Mujin’s mind drifted to other memories. He recalled the story of the legendary doctor who had sealed away his medical skills after his son was killed by martial artists. He remembered the doctors who fled during the last great conflict, and the old woman who had developed a life-saving medicine only to meet a senseless death.

Finally, he thought of the young doctor who had lost everything and was left in despair.

Why must doctors live like this? Why must they fear malice and flee, even as they offer kindness and healing? Why must they die at the hands of those they help, or at the hands of strangers?

Tang Mujin looked at Elder Yeom again. Elder Yeom had cried himself out and slowly stopped.

He turned to Tang Mujin and spoke, “Master Tang.”

The voice carried a heavy, almost tearful determination. Dang Mujin nodded in response.

“Go ahead.”

“Teach me the way of the sword. Even if it means giving up medicine, I must learn martial arts.”

Dang Mujin shook his head.

“It won’t make much difference. You’re too old, and you don’t possess any special talent for martial arts.”

“Ah…”

Physician Yeom lowered his head in despair. But Dang Mujin sat down in front of him, meeting his eyes.

“However, there is another way. I can teach you something other than the sword.”

“What is it?”

“Poison. You don’t need martial talent to handle it to some extent.”

This solution wasn’t something Dang Mujin had come up with himself. It was discovered decades ago by a young man who had lost everything and turned to darkness. For physicians without the strength of warriors, could there be a better option?

Dang Mujin concluded the tale by snapping the neck of the last surviving bandit from the Green Forest Sect.

“From now on, every physician who comes to the Tang family will learn the art of poison alongside medicine.”