Chapter 48

Chapter 48
The moment the decision was made to undertake the Hwan-gol Tal-tae Dae-beop, both men threw themselves entirely into the preparations.

“My master happened upon an ancient treatise concerning bone transformation, composed long ago by an elder, and spent the remainder of his days unraveling its secrets. Everything he discovered was eventually entrusted to me.”

Because the text had originally been penned by an expert in venom, the study itself had developed from the perspective of an artisan of poison. That was precisely why deadly substances sat at the very heart of the grand technique.

It was likewise the reason why virulent ingredients like the Eternal Life Poison-Nether Grass—rather than ordinary spiritual flora—were indispensable components.

Their immediate task was gathering the instruments and sundries necessary for the procedure.

Fortunately, Ban Yun-saeng had previously buried the most vital reagents deep in the ground near the cavern. Regardless of how distant the possibility seemed, he had always kept the prospect of conducting the rite tucked in the back of his mind.

All that remained was to obtain common items from the nearby markets.

Together with Baek So-cheon, Ban Yun-saeng traversed the neighboring settlements to secure the missing provisions. Meanwhile, they cleared the cave of all superfluous clutter. The upcoming rite demanded absolute priority.

The newly emptied chamber soon accommodated the apparatus of the great method: a wooden slab for treatment, a pair of broad water vats, and numerous earthenware vessels meant to hold medicinal concoctions.

By the third day, the pair had assembled everything in full.

“The most critical step lies ahead,” Ban Yun-saeng noted.

“And what would that be?”

“Baek-gak Geum-sun-sa must impart its venom into the Eternal Life Poison-Nether Grass so it can produce fruit. Should the serpent fail to deliver its venom, or if no fruit emerges, we will be forced to wait three whole years.”

Hearing the span of three years, a self-deprecating laugh slipped past Baek So-cheon’s lips. By then, total war would have consumed everything, and his life would have ended long before.

Ban Yun-saeng guided him to the patch where the Eternal Life Poison-Nether Grass took root, remaining at a discreet distance so as not to provoke Baek-gak Geum-sun-sa.

One day lapsed, followed by a second, yet the creature remained entirely motionless.

As they stood watch over the plant, Ban Yun-saeng passed the hours recounting diverse lore, concentrating largely on toxic vegetation and rare venoms.

It struck Baek So-cheon quite vividly that, regardless of possessing the Man-poison Immunity Body, his knowledge regarding venoms and poisonous greenery was remarkably deficient. Having assumed such substances could never harm him, he had never bothered to learn about them.

Ban Yun-saeng spoke openly, describing which peaks harbored specific herbs and where perilous toxins could be discovered. Though their acquaintance was recent, the impending undertaking caused him to hold nothing back.

“Should this endeavor prove successful, what do you intend to do?”

“Prevent the conflict from igniting.”

“And once that is done?”

“I have not looked that far ahead.”

“Ought you not begin by considering your own desires?”

The phrasing brought to mind words once spoken by the leader of the Black Heaven Alliance. The idea of setting the very first button astray lingered in his thoughts. The circumstances were completely different, yet the sentiment made Baek So-cheon pause.

At eighteen years old, entirely naive, he had aligned himself with the alliance driven solely by the urge to defend the innocent. From that day onward, his existence had become a ceaseless, headlong sprint.

He had never foreseen that the sword arts he acquired by pure chance held such peerless depth, nor had he anticipated possessing the martial genius to be revered as a deity of combat.

There had never been room to care for himself—only to press forward into the fray.

The outbreak of war made personal care even less plausible. This was not true of him alone; every blade within the Murim Alliance had shared the exact same reality.

Even after peace settled, the devastation of his inner core and his servitude to the alliance chief left no opening for reflection.

That was the reason he could offer no response when Ga-in previously urged him to abandon the organization and forge another path. He had never been taught how to exist for his own sake. The concept of personal joy remained utterly alien to him.

Ban Yun-saeng regarded Baek So-cheon closely.

“Do not let your existence become nothing more than endless violence. Life slips past like a fleeting dream before you even realize it.”

“Understood.”

Growing weary of offering counsel, Ban Yun-saeng turned his attention back to the distant form of Baek-gak Geum-sun-sa.

“Our hopes now rest entirely upon that serpent.”

The destiny of two men—and perhaps the entire realm of Murim—hung on the actions of a solitary beast.

Fortune, it seemed, was smiling upon at least one of them.

After two additional days had elapsed, Baek-gak Geum-sun-sa discharged its deadly essence straight into the Eternal Life Poison-Nether Grass before perishing. The stalk bore its solitary fruit.

Treating the harvest with extreme gentleness, Ban Yun-saeng plucked the yield and carried it into the cavern.

Every piece of the preparation was finally complete.

The decoctions stood ready, and Baek So-cheon had already imbibed the preliminary drafts in exact measure across several intervals.

Holding only the fruit of the Eternal Life Poison-Nether Grass, Ban Yun-saeng spoke.

“Tell me, how do you feel?”

He felt detached. Baek So-cheon considered that even should he perish beneath the ritual’s weight, very little regret would follow him.

Reaching thirty-eight years of age was long enough for a man of the blade—especially one who had stood as the savior of the jianghu. What reason had he to grieve an ending after carrying such a path?

Ban Yun-saeng had previously claimed that no soul would suffer agonizing grief upon his demise. Was the case any different for himself? A handful might mourn with sincerity, but would anyone be utterly broken? Thus, his response carried an easy tone.

“I am ready.”

“Very well. We begin. Ingest the fruit of the Eternal Life Poison-Nether Grass.”

Without hesitating, Baek So-cheon placed the offering into his mouth and swallowed. Infused with the creature’s potent toxin, it flared across his palate like scorching embers.

The great art was set into motion.

“Urrgh…”

A low cry escaped his lips as the medicinal venom tore through his flesh. Deprived of the ability to steer it through his pathways via internal energy, Ban Yun-saeng’s accompanying draughts forcibly drove the essence through every corner of his form. The agony proved absolute.

The complexion of Baek So-cheon’s flesh darkened into an unnatural hue.

Ban Yun-saeng promptly eased his form downward into the vat brimming with prepared solution.

A quiet disturbance stirred the surface.

Baek So-cheon drifted beneath the water.

Once completely immersed, a soothing deadness settled over his senses, subduing the searing torment. Drowsiness pulled at his consciousness, his lids turning overwhelmingly heavy.

Ban Yun-saeng looked on with taut concentration as Baek So-cheon settled beneath the dark waters.

Long before his form rested at the bottom of the vessel, he had surrendered entirely to slumber.

The fateful day that altered everything.

“Hah… hah… hah…”

Baek So-cheon fought for breath.

Not an inch of his physical vessel remained intact. It felt as though the lightest touch would cause him to crumble like dry clay.

The weapon in his grasp seemed heavier than a thousand catties, yet he tightened his fingers upon the hilt. He needed to hold fast to hope. If his own agony was this deep, the opponent’s torment had to be equivalent—or far worse.

True to his thought, Yeom Hwa-sin, the lord of the Black Heaven Alliance, stood bent forward, dragging in raspy breaths with obvious difficulty. His imposing silhouette shook visibly under the strain.

This approaching strike represented the sole remaining chance to bring him down. Yeom Hwa-sin’s condition was secondary; once this motion was executed, his own reserves would run dry.

*This blow must strike true.*

Yeom Hwa-sin lifted his chin, fixing his stare directly upon Baek So-cheon.

For the very first time, an unfamiliar sentiment manifested in that dark gaze.

It was sheer terror.

Without a second thought, Baek So-cheon pushed forward.

He wagered everything upon the culmination of this single motion, pouring every remnant of his inner strength into the blade.

Yeom Hwa-sin hurled himself forward in response, yet sheer exhaustion crippled the speed of his motion.

A sharp wail tore through the air.

Their shapes collided and blurred into one.

Unlike all previous engagements where they traded rapid clashes, retreated like lightning, parried, and struck back, there was no separation this time.

A dull impact resounded, marking the absolute finish of the duel.

The instant the steel penetrated the rival’s torso, Baek So-cheon was certain that victory belonged to him.

*I have triumphed!*

His cherished Gui-yeong Geom had driven true, sinking straight into Yeom Hwa-sin’s heart.

Yet the moment he detected sudden amusement and fierce resolve within eyes that ought to have darkened into death, cold realization gripped him.

A thundering impact followed.

Despite being skewered through the chest, Yeom Hwa-sin drove his fist straight into Baek So-cheon’s sternum.

The fragile shell of his protective energy shattered instantly, sending a terrible wave through his ribs. Though he fought to gather strength to cushion the shock, the ruin propagated inward like fractures on thinning ice.

“Cough!”

Baek So-cheon sprayed dark crimson.

He found himself unable to stir an individual finger, yet Yeom Hwa-sin somehow retained horrifying vigor.

Lethal energy condensed upon the tyrant’s fingertips.

The instant he understood that the strike was aimed straight at his dantian—

*No!*

A sickening tear resounded.

Agony beyond imagination tore through his lower torso.

The flesh gave way; the center where his dantian once resided felt as though it had been violently scooped from within him.

“Aaaargh!”

The most gut-wrenching wail of his entire duel against Yeom Hwa-sin tore from his throat.

Blood poured freely from his middle.

Supporting the collapsing Baek So-cheon with a single arm, Yeom Hwa-sin uttered in a frigid tone,

“It was not my hand that ended you. Your own alliance chief orchestrated this.”

“…Nonsense.”

“If that were so, why do you stand here in his stead? It was your master who should have faced me.”

The chaos of battle had separated everyone; amid the tempest surrounding Yeom Hwa-sin, only the two of them were left. The alliance leader was engaged far from their position.

“That leader of yours is an insincere deceiver who drank your very life to preserve his authority!”

“Cease your attempts to cause division. You understand nothing of him.”

“Pitiful fool.”

“Three years will tell the tale. When that time arrives, you will witness the truth of what I speak.”

Yeom Hwa-sin cast the broken body of Baek So-cheon carelessly onto the earth.

He then wrenched the blade free from his own heart and discarded the steel aside.

Coughing up blood, Baek So-cheon could only track the staggering retreat of the figure before him.

Shortly after the shadowy form dissolved into the haze, an urgent voice called out as hurried footsteps approached.

“So-cheon! So-cheon!”

It was the tone of Ak So-gun, the supreme leader of the alliance.

*Leader…*

He desperately willed his eyes to open, yet his lids refused to obey.

“Hold on! We have triumphed! The enemy forces are in full retreat! Open your eyes!”

Ak So-gun’s voice rang with frantic excitement.

Summoning the absolute dregs of his resolve, Baek So-cheon forced his heavy eyelids apart.

Through a clouded blur, Ak So-gun’s face took shape, looking down with deep distress.

It was at that exact second that Baek So-cheon caught sight of it.

A tiny crimson ember flitted within the pupil of Ak So-gun’s dark iris, vanishing an instant later.

Had it been blood dripping from his own brow? Had it fallen from Ak So-gun? Or was it merely an illusion born of a fading mind? It had come and gone far too swiftly to be certain.

“…Leader.”

With that breath, darkness swallowed him whole.

The sound of disturbed water echoed through the cave.

Turning the winch, the lower grate of the vat rose gradually, bearing Baek So-cheon’s body clear of the medicinal bath.

Ban Yun-saeng lifted him free and transferred him onto the wooden slab.

Parting his lips by force, he poured another concoction inward before instantly reaching for his acupuncture implements.

Every fraction of his concentration was poured into the effort. Though the technique was something he could have performed without sight in his prime, decades of stillness left a slight tremor in his fingertips.

*Remain steady.*

Point by point, applying boundless precision, he pierced every critical aperture.

Behind his closed eyelids, Baek So-cheon’s eyes drifted frantically, caught in the grip of a dream.

“Not quite yet. Keep them shut.”

Baek So-cheon opened his eyes.

Ban Wol-ryang, the revered medical master of the Murim Alliance, was attending to him.

“You have finally returned to us?”

“Where… am I?”

“Within the main fortress. The great struggle against the demonic factions has drawn to an end.”

At the confirmation of the war’s conclusion, an isolated drop of sorrow escaped down Baek So-cheon’s cheek.

He had not allowed himself to weep once since entering the organization’s ranks. Not even when burying brothers-in-arms by the hundreds. He had always believed that giving in to sorrow meant abandoning the fight.

Now, that inner restraint gave way entirely; the tears flowed without stopping.

Following an extended silence, Baek So-cheon murmured,

“Is the supreme lord safe?”

“Thankfully, he is well.”

The memory of the leader standing over him returned before darkness took him.

“He sustained no harm?”

“Because of your sacrifice, he remained untouched.”

“How much time has passed?”

“Twenty days.”

“Twenty days?”

He attempted to push himself upward, yet his limbs refused to comply.

“The devastation to your form is far too profound.”

Following pure habit, he attempted to circulate internal energy to stabilize his inner workings.

A catastrophic spasm erupted directly from the center of his lower abdomen.

“Urk!”

Ban Wol-ryang instantly cried out in alarm to the agonizing figure,

“Do not attempt to manipulate your internal energy!”

“Until… when?”

Ban Wol-ryang found it impossible to say the word “permanently.” The look of misery on his face forcefully dragged an old horror to the surface.

The sickening memory of flesh tearing as his dantian was gouged out.

Baek So-cheon shut his eyes tightly. The sudden realization that he possessed no inner strength whatsoever filled him with utter dread.

“Twenty days confined to bed—the leader must have been disappointed on every visit.”

“How often did he stop by?”

“He has not yet come.”

“He likely commanded that all effort be spent solely on preserving your life. The aftermath of battle keeps him occupied.”

Water churned loudly once more.

Ban Yun-saeng lowered Baek So-cheon back into the herbal vat, incorporating fresh mixtures into the dark solution.

Clusters of froth began to boil upward. The procedure was approaching its absolute threshold.

Ban Yun-saeng lingered at the edge of the rim, gazing down at Baek So-cheon.

Surrounded by rising bubbles, Baek So-cheon drifted once more into the depths.

A slight grimace crossed the submerged face, hinting at ongoing visions.

Within his heart, Ban Yun-saeng pleaded with desperate conviction.

*Endure this! Push through!*