Namgoong Myung and Hong Geolgae landed silently inside the courtyard.
If they were inexperienced rookies, they might have panicked and rushed without thinking. But both Namgoong Myung and Hong Geolgae had been through this kind of thing enough times to know better.
Instead, they stilled their movements, sharpening their senses to detect any presence around them.
Soon, they realized that while there were quite a few people nearby, none seemed to be on guard.
”…It’s strangely lax,” Hong Geolgae muttered, to which Namgoong Myung confidently whispered back.
“With the elite forces of the Demonic Cult gathered here, they probably don’t fear intruders. The only real threat would be orthodox martial artists, but most of them are severely injured…”
“Still, isn’t it too unguarded?” “It’s because it’s us. If it were some greenhorns climbing over the wall, they’d have been caught immediately.” “True, but still…”
“Of course! Even if there are dozens of half-baked experts inside these walls, how many people do you think could evade all their senses?”
Namgoong Myung’s reasoning was convincing, but Hong Geolgae couldn’t shake a nagging feeling.
‘There must be a reason for this.’
But he couldn’t abandon his duty just because of a vague unease.
Hong Geolgae decided to use his senses to explore the area instead of moving hastily. He started with his sense of smell.
Sniff.
Like a wild dog, he sniffed the air around him.
In a place with many injured people, you’d expect the smell of medicine or festering wounds. But instead, there was a peculiar, nutty aroma, like beans roasting over a low fire.
‘…This smells like roasted Baekgeup.’
Though not formally trained in medicine, Hong Geolgae had picked up a fair amount from watching Dang Mujin. He was more skilled than most amateur physicians. And he recognized the scent of Baekgeup, a common medicinal herb.
Baekgeup had many uses, but Hong Geolgae remembered it primarily for preventing wounds from festering.
Namgoong Myung understood what Hong Geolgae was getting at with the mention of Baekgeup.
“Probably because there are many with external injuries. It seems they’re managing those well enough… Shall we check how they’re handling internal injuries?”
Unless someone like Dang Mujin was helping, martial artists had only one way to treat internal injuries: carefully circulating their energy and hoping time would heal them.
The two glanced at a nearby building. Through the papered windows, they could faintly see someone sitting cross-legged, a posture that maximized efficiency.
They moved closer to the door, listening intently.
Inhale—
A slow, deep breath.
Exhale—
A long, drawn-out exhale followed.
Though each internal energy technique had its own breathing method and energy circulation path, the principle was the same: the energy taken in must exceed the energy expelled to accumulate power within.
However, when the goal wasn’t energy accumulation but healing internal injuries, the breathing was different. There was no need to force the energy to linger within, so the exhale was as long and relaxed as the inhale.
The breathing they heard was long and calm, indicating it was for healing, not energy accumulation.
Namgoong Myung and Hong Geolgae moved to another room. Though most rooms were dark, the Demonic Cult’s martial artists were diligently practicing their energy circulation even in the darkness.
And nearly all were using their breathing to manage internal injuries. In other words, the Demonic Cult’s martial artists hadn’t yet recovered from their internal injuries.
Having achieved their initial goal, Hong Geolgae sent a silent message to Namgoong Myung.
”…”
Even with his face covered and no movement, the intensity in Namgoong Myung’s eyes was unmistakable. He was unusually excited, and Hong Geolgae knew there was only one reason for that.
When Hong Geolgae called again, Namgoong Myung finally responded, albeit a bit late.
Hong Geolgae didn’t reply, just stared at Namgoong Myung.
When someone talks too much, it usually means they want something.
Sure enough, Namgoong Myung began to persuade Hong Geolgae.
As expected, Hong Geolgae firmly opposed.
Hong Geolgae understood the implication in Namgoong Myung’s words and widened his eyes.
I’m sorry, I can’t assist with that.
It was risky, but Namgoong Myung’s plan was quite tempting.
Aside from the cult leader and two guardians, there was no one who could withstand their combined attack.
But there was still something bothering him.
Still hesitant. Hong Geolgae had a peculiar tendency to stick to rules.
Namgoong Myung pondered.
‘How would Hyun Gong have persuaded Hong Geolgae?’
It didn’t take long for the answer to come to him.
Namgoong Myung added an enticing offer to his persuasion.
Hong Geolgae hesitated. Namgoong Myung’s offer was tempting.
But what came out of Hong Geolgae’s mouth was different.
Come on, we can’t lie. We’re orthodox martial artists, after all…
It’s just the two of us here. If I say it, no one will know, and no one will doubt it.
There’s no need for that.
Namgoong Myung’s eyes gleamed. People often mistake “there’s no need for that” as a concern. But it’s not a concern. It’s a polite way of saying, “I’d like that, but I can’t say it.”
Namgoong Myung sealed the deal with a ruthless tone.
As expected, Hong Geolgae began to follow Namgoong Myung’s lead. The two started to meticulously search the buildings from one corner to the next.
Namgoong Myung’s heart raced wildly. How thrilling would it be to swiftly take out the left guardian and escape? Though he pretended not to care, he couldn’t help but think about the treasures they might find.
‘If I could steal the cult leader’s sword, that would be something…’
But even after checking all the buildings, they couldn’t sense the presence of the cult leader or the two guardians. Finally, Hong Geolgae spoke, puzzled.
“Where are the cult leader and the guardians?”
Namgoong Myung frowned as he replied.
“They must have gone out.”
“Could we have missed them, or is there a place we didn’t check?” “No, that’s not it. The smallest rooms in the innermost building were empty. Those were probably the cult leader and guardians’ quarters. The faint warmth left in the rooms suggests they haven’t been gone long.”
Hearing this, Hong Geolgae seemed relieved.
“Ah, well, let’s be satisfied with the information we’ve gathered. It’s good nothing dangerous happened.”
But Namgoong Myung thought differently. They had achieved their primary goal of assessing the Demonic Cult’s martial artists’ condition. But they couldn’t return to Wudang Mountain without knowing why and where the cult leader and the two guardians had disappeared.
“They wouldn’t have just gone out for a stroll in this situation. Is there anywhere the cult leader might have gone?”
As Namgoong Myung mused aloud, Hong Geolgae casually suggested an idea.
“The great guardian and the cult leader seemed close. Maybe they went off to spend some quality time together. We could check the dense reed fields.” ”…Then why would the left guardian tag along?”
Hong Geolgae pondered for a moment before breaking into a mischievous grin.
“It might have been a protective spell for the two of them, a love spell to keep anyone from interfering with their love. Or maybe it was meant for three people…”
Namgung Myung mused to himself. It seemed Hong Kyung-gae was losing his mind, perhaps because he had never held hands with a woman, let alone experienced love.
But Namgung Myung couldn’t think of anything either. Finally, he approached the wall and said, “Let’s put that aside for now. The Eon brothers have been keeping an eye on the movements of the cult’s warriors. They might know something. Let’s go ask Eon Baek-gun and Yeon Hwa-gun.”
”…Alright.”
The two quietly climbed over the wall again.
“Is something wrong?” one of the brothers asked.
“The cult leader and the two protectors have disappeared.”
”…What?”
It was clear they had no idea. Given that they were focused on monitoring the cult’s warriors, it wasn’t surprising they hadn’t noticed the leader and protectors vanishing.
Eon Hwi-gon immediately prostrated himself. “I had no idea! I’m sorry!”
“This isn’t the time to assign blame. Is there anywhere nearby the leader and the protectors might have gone?”
Hong Kyung-gae interjected, “Somewhere secluded, like a dense reed field.”
“A reed field?”
Hong Kyung-gae seemed unable to let go of his theory. Namgung Myung waved it off, redirecting the brothers’ attention. “Ignore him. Is there anywhere else the three might have gone?”
”…I’m not sure…”
Neither Eon Beom-gon nor Eon Hwi-gon seemed to have any ideas. Instead, Eon Hwi-gon picked up a stick and drew a simple map in the dirt.
They were currently in Suchu, with Wudang Mountain to the west. Namgung Myung studied the map.
‘Did they go to Wudang Mountain?’
No, that couldn’t be. If they planned to attack Wudang Mountain again, they wouldn’t have left their subordinates behind.
As Yeon Hwi-gon’s map took shape, Namgung Myung considered the possibilities. To the south was a river and Dongcheong Lake, but it was unlikely the leader would take the protectors there for leisure.
Hong Kyung-gae clapped his hands as if he had an epiphany. “The reeds along the Yangtze River must be thick…!”
“Keep quiet.”
To the east was Wuchang, a large city, but not a place likely to interest the leader.
However, when Yeon Hwi-gon wrote two characters to the north, Namgung Myung let out an involuntary groan.
“Ah.”
The characters read Songshan, home to the Shaolin Temple.
He realized instinctively that the leader must have gone to Shaolin Temple.
The cult’s warriors had attacked from the west, targeting Wudang Mountain. If they hadn’t broken through, it would be natural to retreat west. But they bypassed Wudang Mountain and moved east to Suchu.
Would they head east without reason? Impossible.
‘It was a mistake to assume the leader would return to Wudang Mountain for another battle, given the main forces were concentrated there.’
Hong Kyung-gae was visibly anxious. “Namgung Myung, why didn’t we go to Wudang Mountain ourselves and sent Eon instead?”
Namgung Myung chuckled. “Why do you think? We need to head straight to Shaolin Temple.”
“Damn it, I had a feeling it would come to this.”
Hong Kyung-gae grumbled but didn’t suggest not going to Shaolin Temple. Namgung Myung remembered him as a friend who always complained but ultimately went along.
Namgung Myung smiled contentedly. “Let’s go.”
“Oh, what a mess…”
Namgung Myung and Hong Kyung-gae set off at a run toward Shaolin Temple.