Chapter 110

CRRRRACK—!

“Khk!”

CRRRUNCH—!!

“Guhk!”

Screams tangled through the air as something rough hammered around the space.

It all came from a young man rolling across the ground.

“Kh-rk...!!”

The young man twisted his body and scrambled in a panic.

His body jolted again.

I knew the attack was coming, so I raised both arms to guard.

Something crashed straight through it and slammed him in the chest.

PAAAK—!

“Ghk!”

He pinwheeled away. The hardened qi around his body might as well not have existed.

It crumbled under the shock.

Damn it.

Gritting his teeth, Poison Dragon Tang Cheonil shifted his stance, stomping the ground with everything he had and whipping up his internal energy.

From his sleeve he snatched a throwing knife and hurled it; the moment the throwing blade rode the flow, he grabbed a dagger.

KANG—! KANG!

The thrown blade fell miserably. It didn’t matter. Making even a fleeting instant was what mattered.

But—

WHOOSH—!

Along with a rough gust, something had already driven itself right before his eyes.

An elbow? The moment I identified the limb, his jaw popped up again.

PAAAK—!

“Kruk!”

Poison Dragon flew through the air from the impact. Then he rolled across the ground.

Those watching swallowed their breath.

“...Huh.”

“Poison Dragon...”

The one collapsing so miserably was none other than one of the Seven.

He might’ve been called one of the weaker among the Seven, but among late-stage first-rate fighters his age, he was still hailed as a genius among geniuses.

He was also called the Return of the Poison Sovereign, who alongside the Zenith Under the Heavens Yoo Cheongil had contributed greatly to victory in the Orthodox-Demonic War—and he was famed throughout Tang as their Heaven-Beyond-Heaven prodigy.

He was supposed to be the one to glorify the Tang Clan’s name for generations to come.

And yet that same person was rolling on the floor like that.

Do Hyeong and Cheon Eujin were turning pale.

Of course they were.

Because the one beating Poison Dragon like a rat—

“How is the Young Lady of Tang....”

—was his own older sister, Poison Blossom Tang Yeran.

Tang Yeran beat Poison Dragon as if it were nothing.

Her small fist cut through the air and rammed into Poison Dragon’s solar plexus with absurd ease.

CRRRUNCH—!

The blast wasn’t small at all; with a harsh sound Poison Dragon screamed again.

Fast, and precise.

And strong.

Every single movement carried so much within it.

Tang Yeran’s motion, without a trace of hesitation, drew raw awe just by watching.

...Huh.

I couldn’t help sucking in a breath.

...So she really is stronger than Poison Dragon.

I had only half-believed what Yoo Cheongil said. Seeing this, I felt ridiculous.

I mean, come on.

Back in the pavilion she was such a helpless mess.

There she couldn’t even move properly.

“KAAAAAAH—!!”

And now she was toying with Poison Dragon, one of the Seven.

...If she could do this, then why was she like that back then?

It was completely different from the way she’d stood in front of Pal Duyeok when he came for me.

That had been impressive, sure, but that was stubbornness and courage.

This wasn’t that.

Fast.

So fast I could barely follow with my eyes.

...Precise.

Every motion was precise, as if she had full command of that speed.

I was sure of it.

I can't beat her.

I can’t beat Tang Yeran.

Of course not.

I doubt I could beat Poison Dragon right now either, and she was beating him like that—how would I ever beat her?

Amazing.

It was surprising. Yoo Cheongil had been right, but honestly, I never expected Tang Yeran to be this strong.

Right then—

“Kruk! You damn—!!”

Poison Dragon, who had been beaten endlessly, suddenly changed. He evaded Tang Yeran’s barrage for a moment and roused all the energy in his body.

“...!”

My body reacted to that energy.

This is...

It didn’t feel like ordinary force. A thick green energy slithered up from Poison Dragon’s body.

[Look at that brat.]

Seeing it, Yoo Cheongil laughed as though thrilled.

[He’s risen to three stars at least.]

[Four stars.]

[Huh? Four?]

Poison Sovereign corrected him, and Yoo Cheongil clicked his tongue in amusement.

[Four stars in the Tang Fang-Ringing Internal Art at that age? Not bad at all.]

Tang Fang-Ringing Internal Art—that was the Tang Clan’s core art.

It sounded like he’d reached the fourth star...

Is four stars high?

I didn’t know, but judging from Yoo Cheongil’s reaction it was certainly high.

If the old «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» man is surprised, that says everything.

For Yoo Cheongil—who treated most of the world as trivial—to praise someone meant they were truly exceptional.

And—

Even I can tell it’s incredible.

Just looking at him, anyone could see he wasn’t ordinary.

“...You dare.”

Wreathed in green energy, Poison Dragon gripped his dagger and leveled it forward.

And then—

Ssssshhh—!!

Huh?

Poison Dragon’s presence began thinning.

He was clearly in front of me, so how was that happening?

Even though it was night, lanterns were glowing nearby. Yet within that light Poison Dragon’s body kept dimming.

Strange.

And dangerous.

...To disappear like that right in front of someone.

What was that? He wasn’t hiding—he was vanishing in plain sight.

A terrifying ability in a direct fight.

What principle was behind it? Narrowing my eyes, trying to read the method—

[He used his energy to erase his presence. He’s also blurring the surroundings to create an illusion. He hasn’t truly vanished, so use your Moon Eyes.]

Yoo Cheongil explained it for me.

The moment I heard it, I focused my gaze.

ZAP.

Energy bled into my eyes. Then I saw it.

Poison Dragon, wreathed in rippling energy.

...Right.

The way the surrounding energy moved was strange.

So he’s using that to make the illusion?

Amazing he could create something like that.

It was my first time seeing Tang martial arts in action.

I heard he used to be an assassin. Seeing it for real makes it clear.

A martial art using throwing knives and daggers.

Anyone could tell this wasn’t a style meant for head-on fighting.

I’d heard rumors about Tang arts before—

But I never imagined he could literally disappear before my eyes.

Fighting him would be dangerous.

Especially at night like this.

How do you counter something like that?

Thanks to Moon Eyes I could see him now, but what if I didn’t have them?

I was thinking through that when—

[Boy. Don’t delude yourself. Tang martial arts aren’t frightening because of tricks like that.]

Yoo Cheongil spoke, sounding exasperated.

[Have you forgotten why the Tang Clan is feared by martial artists?]

...Ah.

His words snapped me awake. He was right.

The reason the Tang Clan was feared wasn’t petty illusions like this.

Nor the fame gained from Iron River craftsmanship.

The truly terrifying thing was—

Poison arts.

Their use of poison that threatened even top masters.

That was the most terrifying part.

[Watch closely. He’s at a level worth observing.]

With that, I fixed my eyes on Poison Dragon.

Even as I watched, Yoo Cheongil continued lecturing me.

[Poison arts, you see—they don’t carry around poison to smear on blades or scatter around.]

...They don’t carry it?

Then how did they use it? I didn’t understand, but Yoo Cheongil kept explaining.

[Tang fighters are exposed to countless poisons from childhood. They ingest them, smear them on their skin, even cut themselves to apply it.]

Just hearing it felt torturous. That was straight-up torture.

[Repeating that training means Tang bloodline fighters are often born with resistance, but few survive the actual training.]

Of course.

[However, if they survive, the poisons they’ve accumulated naturally circulate through their muscles and blood.]

[When the poison flowing through their bodies merges with the energy created by the Tang Clan’s core art, that is called toxic qi.]

[And since their internal poison is not infinite, they occasionally consume poisonous herbs to replenish it.]

Through torture-like training they store poison in their own bodies—

And combine it with their internal energy to wield as martial arts?

...And they even eat poison periodically to replenish it?

I choked at the thought of ingesting poison just to fight.

[...That rotten bastard. Blabbing Tang family secrets like they’re nothing.]

Poison Sovereign didn’t seem pleased with Yoo Cheongil’s commentary, but judging by his reaction, it was true.

So this was what a Tang martial artist had to endure.

...If it were me, I’d have run away immediately.

I’d have bitten my own tongue before enduring that training.

[Tsk tsk. So watch well. Someone like him will at least become a rare talent.]

A Tang bloodline survivor of hellish training.

Among them, Poison Dragon—hailed as Poison Sovereign reborn.

He stood as his energy surged higher.

FWWIP—!

Poison Dragon shot toward Tang Yeran.

A barely visible flicker, followed by a flash of green.

His dagger tore through the air and rained down toward Tang Yeran.

In that moment—

[No, not there.]

Yoo Cheongil said.

[I told you to watch the real one in front of her, not that foolish fake.]

BOOOOOOM—!!!

At the same time, Poison Dragon slammed into the ground once again.

“Guh-uuhk!”

The dagger he’d been holding flew up into the air.

Looked like he’d dropped his weapon.

Tang Yeran had moved her hand and smashed Poison Dragon’s neck into the ground.

“Krk!”

Poison Dragon thrashed, but Tang Yeran didn’t release him.

SSSSSSSS—

Suddenly something sizzled. The source was Poison Dragon’s neck.

That’s...

Where Tang Yeran gripped, Poison Dragon’s neck began darkening.

A foul stench rose. It wasn’t burning.

Poison...?

He was being poisoned—rapidly.

The skin turning purple was brutal to watch.

Was it okay to leave him like that? Worry rose—

“Khk—!”

Poison Dragon spat blood. It splattered across Tang Yeran’s hand.

Then—

“...Hiiik...!!”

The moment the blood touched her hand, Tang Yeran convulsed and sprang away from him.

“Ghk... huff...!”

As soon as she let go, Poison Dragon’s skin slowly returned to normal.

“Kk... huff... huff...”

Poison Dragon trembled but looked like he was ready to get up again.

Judging from the tension in his eyes, he intended to keep going.

“...Huh...”

Tang Yeran stood frozen, clearly shaken by the blood on her hand.

Just a few droplets, but she looked ready to have a fit.

“You... you damn—”

Poison Dragon lunged toward Tang Yeran again—

“That’s enough.”

THUD—!

Poison King appeared in an instant and hammered Poison Dragon’s head.

A thunk rang out as Poison Dragon crumpled to the ground.

Looked like he’d passed out.

“I will not allow any more.”

He’d already allowed more than enough—his words felt absurd.

“One Girl.”

Leaving Poison Dragon collapsed, Poison King called to Tang Yeran.

She held her trembling hand with her other hand and looked at him.

“Y-yes...”

Poison King glanced at her hand and spoke.

“Return to your quarters at once. Do not come out until I summon you for punishment.”

“...”

“Answer.”

“Y-yes... Clan Head...”

Tang Yeran answered and hesitated as she began to walk away.

At that moment—

She looked this way.

For an instant I thought she was looking at me, but that wasn’t it.

Where was her gaze directed? I shifted slightly and realized.

She was looking at Murong Yeongsun.

“Hm.”

Murong Yeongsun noticed the gaze too and murmured quietly.

“...This is a little unexpected.”

Her frown carried a strange, very palpable discomfort.