Chapter 61: I’m More Than Enough On My Own

Just as I was about to voice the question I’d been harboring, the dotted old man, who had been unable to look me straight in the eye for some reason, suddenly offered an unexpected apology.

“I am sorry, Young Lord. I know what it is you wish for, but I cannot grant it. Not because I do not want to, but because I am unable to.”

I couldn’t help feeling disappointed.

But it was too early to give up hope. A reversal came immediately after.

“Number Three’s spirit is linked to mine. Even if I wanted to hand over or share control of her with you…”

I almost burst out laughing.

I barely managed to clamp the laugh back down in my throat and cut him off instead.

“That’s not what I want at all, Benefactor.”

I meant it. I had never wanted that part from the start.

Not because I didn’t want to enjoy the luxury of having the strongest bodyguard at my beck and call, but because I knew it was impossible.

If what the old man described were possible, do you think Poison King would have left it alone?

Of course not—he would have made sure to control that “monster” personally.

And it wasn’t like he would have just accepted the old man’s word for it and moved on. He would have investigated it thoroughly.

Then, after finally concluding it truly was impossible, he must have given up.

The old man blinked those tiny, knife-slit eyes of his like a goat.

He seemed to find it hard to believe me.

I was afraid I’d end up developing prejudice against poisoners at this rate.

Poison King or the old man—how could they both be so dense?

Anyone with half a brain could figure this out if they thought about it for just a moment.

There was no need to walk him through my chain of reasoning and convince him, so I went straight to what I actually cared about.

“About this woman’s recovery ability—do you think I could gain a similar power?”

I was desperate for him to answer yes.

If I could heal major injuries on the spot like the squat woman, my fighting ability would skyrocket.

Even if my actual martial power stayed the same, my chances of survival and victory against tough enemies would multiply several times over.

After all, if an opponent believed they had left me gravely wounded and unable to move, I’d be able to exploit that moment of carelessness to land a finishing blow.

The squat woman had gone through the same Poison Gates as my mother.

Which meant the two of them had taken the same poisons into their bodies.

If the foundation was the same, shouldn’t the result be similar?

If not my mother, then at least I—who had inherited from her exactly the same constitution and origin power—should be able to gain the same ability as the squat woman.

That was my hope.

And my calculation.

The old man faltered.

That ominous sign made me sink in advance.

This time, there was no reversal.

“Well… I do not know, Young Lord.”

“What do you mean?”

“Number Three’s iron shell, iron bones, and mysterious healing ability are a mystery even to us.

For the past seven years, all the poison masters of the Poison Heart Court, myself included, have put our heads together and researched and researched—but we found no answer.

Even my lord has personally examined Number Three dozens of times, yet gained no progress.

In the Valley, people call this child ‘the incarnation of the undying.’”

I focused on one part of what he’d said.

“Seven years, you say. Does that mean she didn’t have this ability before that?”

“That is also unclear. Because until she linked souls with me, this child remained in a stiff, corpse-like state all along.

It was only after she was able to move that we discovered her bizarre abilities.

She was injured during a spar with the poison lords, and her wounds healed immediately—everyone was horrified.

Anyhow, we cannot know what she was like before then.”

I turned to look at the woman.

If the old man’s words were true, she’d spent twenty years lying like a corpse.

No—judging from what my mother had gone through, she wouldn’t have left the stone platforms even while she was passing the Poison Gates, so it would be more accurate to say thirty years.

I reached out and grabbed her forearm.

Her skin felt both tough and hard.

Like the hide of a crocodile.

“It was a splendid fight, Auntie. My name is Jeon Chung. I’ll be in your care from now on.”

The woman didn’t react at all, but the old man looked openly flustered by how I addressed her.

“Number Three is basically Young Lord’s servant. There is no need to treat her so respectfully. She does not understand the difference between deferential and casual speech, in any case.

If anything, it would be right for her to be grateful that you treat me as a person—but she cannot even do that.

She has no thoughts and no feelings.”

It left a bitter taste.

How could someone be so lacking in sensitivity?

Explaining my feelings in detail to the old man would be a hassle, so I simply restated my decision.

“Even so, I will call her Auntie.”

There was such firmness in my voice that the old man couldn’t object.

---

The dotted old man had two names.

One was his real name, Sa-u Guru.

The other was the Central Plains-style name he’d taken, So Gu.

At his request, I introduced him to my people as So Gu.

As for Auntie, we changed Number Three to Samwol.

Of course, before presenting the two of them to my close companions, I first tested the waters with Han U-gyeong and Sword Emperor.

Unexpectedly, both elder and youth alike showed almost no rejection.

If anything, they were curious about poison arts.

Relieved, I took the dotted old man and Auntie to the Marsh—only for the last person I’d expected to blow up.

Gwaeseon.

The moment he saw the old man, he declared him “a thoroughly depraved creature” and made a huge scene about ripping out his wicked tongue immediately.

The old man turned ashen.

Taking the old man’s side, I got into quite the argument with Gwaeseon and, in the process, learned a few things.

It turned out that immortals were the natural enemies of practitioners of arts.

Just as an immortal would cringe in front of a demon, a practitioner could not so much as twitch in front of an immortal.

Only then did I understand why the dotted old man had been so reluctant to meet my people.

His worry that Auntie’s identity as a poisoner might be exposed was just an excuse.

He must have known in advance that there was an immortal hanging around me—
And not just any immortal, but Martial Immortal, regarded as the strongest in the history of the immortal line.

How terrified must he have been?

Even with Poison King’s orders, he probably wouldn’t have dared come near me if not for bringing Auntie along.

That was how much he feared Gwaeseon.

Nobody had to explain: it was like a mouse feeling primal terror when it first laid eyes on a cat.

The fact that immortals and practitioners could recognize each other was fascinating from my standpoint.

In any case, before the panicked old man could unleash Auntie, I had already stepped in to calm things down.

Only after hearing that he was my mother’s benefactor and someone who would be a great help to my development did Gwaeseon finally soften.

The next step was obvious.

Everyone wanted to see poison arts.

Amusingly, all attention was focused not on Auntie, but on the old man.

As for Auntie, the general reaction was that they had no idea why she was even here.

We had walked into the Marsh without using lightness skill.

Before heading to the Marsh, I had promised the old man that I wouldn’t reveal Auntie’s secret.

If they realized she was a kind of poison corpse, things could get troublesome.

With that in mind, I smoothed over my companions’ demands as best I could.

I said Poison King had given a strict order that poison arts must never be used except in an emergency, when my safety was at stake.

I used that command as a pretext to refuse any demonstration.

Han U-gyeong was disappointed, and Gwaeseon grumbled, but I insisted that we had to understand the position of poisoners, who had to obey Poison King absolutely.

That was how I wrapped things up.

---

After introducing them to the others, I took the dotted old man and Auntie back to the Manor.

Once night fell, I met with Jin Sowol.

It was a bit awkward, seeing her face the very next day after boldly declaring I wouldn’t be coming to the Manor for a while—but inwardly, I was glad to see her.

She, too, acted as though nothing had happened and greeted me with a bright smile.

Neither of us were the type to sulk.

I told Jin Sowol everything about Auntie.

When she heard about Auntie’s astounding recovery ability, Jin Sowol went through the exact same thought process I had and voiced the same hope I’d nursed.

It felt strange.

Was this what they called hearts moving as one?

Or a husband echoing his wife?

Whatever you called it, the two of us understood each other like kindred spirits and got along disgustingly well.

I had to expend no small amount of mental strength to suppress the urge to pull into my arms Jin Sowol, who was undoubtedly my destined match both physically and mentally.

If she had deliberately tried to seduce me, I might have wavered.

But perhaps mindful of my attitude from the day before, she didn’t cross that line.

It was a bit—just a very little bit—regrettable.

---

Fifteen days after three pairs of visitors had come to see me one after another, the new year arrived.

Not knowing when Sword King might show up to drag Sword Emperor away, I clung to Han U-gyeong before he left with his disciple and focused night and day on training.

Then, out of nowhere, instead of Sword King, a pigeon arrived.

Around high noon, when the sun was at its peak, a carrier pigeon from the Manor perched on the pole we’d set up at the entrance to the Marsh.

Recently, Jin Sowol had trained the pigeons and established a swift line of communication between the Manor and the Marsh.

Thanks to that, Kang Taesu no longer had to run the twenty or thirty li back and forth, and her workload had lightened considerably.

Efficiency, too, had skyrocketed.

Using the carrier pigeons, we could share news in less than a quarter of an incense stick’s time.

I untied the slip of paper from the pigeon’s ankle.

The content was brief.

“Lou Master kidnapped. Come to Sowol Pavilion.”

The handwriting belonged not to Jin Sowol but to Kang Taesu.

It was urgent news, so she must have woken Jin Sowol from her sleep in the underground stone room—but before that, she had done as instructed and sent the carrier pigeon to me.

I handed the note to Gwaeseon, who had run up to my side.

“What do you intend to do?”

It was a question that didn’t need asking, but I am a kind man, so I answered.

“I’m going to rescue her.”

“Want me to come?”

“No need. I’m more than enough on my own.”

Gwaeseon didn’t insist on coming along and stepped back readily.

After informing the others of the situation, I set off at speed toward the northeast.

On the way, I passed the Manor, but didn’t stop there.

I flew straight on to Summer End City.

My destination was, as written on the slip, Sowol Pavilion.

At the entrance of the three-story wooden building that served as Jin Cheongun’s residence, his loyal aide Jo Bong was waiting for me.

Seeing me drop down from the sky, Jo Bong doubled over in a deep bow.

“Welcome, Demon Lord.”

It felt strange hearing that title again after so long.

I didn’t waste time and went straight to the point.

“When did it happen?”

“I don’t know the exact time, but we estimate about half a shichen ago. It might have been a little earlier. At that time, the Lou Master was taking a walk alone in the rear garden.”

Which meant he hadn’t seen the person—or people—who kidnapped Jin Cheongun.

Along with his report, Jo Bong handed me a red envelope with “To Demon Lord’s Own Hand” written in the lower left corner.

I opened it and found one line of instruction and two lines of threat written inside.

“Come alone to Sangyapyeong in Gwangju by tomorrow’s Wu hour.

If you are late or bring escorts, I will cut Sowol Pavilion’s master’s throat.

If you don’t come, his daughter will be next.”

It was ridiculous.

Gwangju’s Sangyapyeong was some two thousand seven hundred li northwest of Summer End City.

Not even giving me a full day of leeway meant they wanted to make me suffer, wear me out before I could even get there.

I, of course, had not the slightest intention, not even the size of an ant’s piss, of obeying that demand.

[End of Chapter]