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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator:Bobt
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“…Excuse me? Can you hear me…?”
Jang Geon stopped trying to mount Jojo’s saddle and walked towards the direction of the voice. Jojo snorted and slowly followed behind him.
Avoiding the corpses scattered around, Jang Geon soon found a man lying on his back, gazing up at the sky. He had lost a lot of blood and his complexion was pale.
The man was trembling as he looked up at Jang Geon’s face under the bamboo hat, his back to the sun.
“…Hello?”
Jang Geon simply nodded silently. However, the man seemed satisfied with that as an answer and smiled faintly.
“Excuse me, I’m sorry to trouble you as a stranger, but may I ask one favor? My son is hiding inside that carriage. I made a small space underneath it for him.”
At his words, Jang Geon’s gaze turned towards the carriage. The thickness of the carriage walls seemed substantial, as no sound could be heard from here.
“…I’m really sorry, but I must ask this favor of the benefactor who has already driven off the bandits. Could you please save my son? He’s only ten years old… He’ll starve to death alone here. He’s a bright kid, but he’s quite timid.”
“What about his mother?”
At Jang Geon’s question as he looked at the carriage, the dying man smiled wryly.
“His mother passed away a long time ago… Not long after giving birth to him. My in-laws blamed it on the child… So I turned my back on secular life and came to this new continent… I wanted to start a new life with my son…”
The man rambled on, his mind seeming to grow hazier. Jang Geon shifted his gaze from the carriage back to the man.
“I’m not good with kids. I like them, but they bore me.”
“…Still, I beg you. Three days’ journey east from here, there’s a village called Cheong Sangok. My sister-in-law lives there. Unlike the rest of my in-laws, she liked our son and learned martial arts, so she’ll reward you well for bringing him to her. So…”
“You’re not going with him?”
For a moment, the man looked up at Jang Geon in disbelief.
“…That’s… I’ve lost too much blood already… And there’s a hole in my stomach… Of course, I’d be overjoyed if I could go with him, but…”
Jang Geon nodded and then knelt down beside the man. Ignoring the man’s puzzled look, he examined his wound. For a stomach wound, he spoke quite well, it seemed. The vital organs appeared to have been missed. Of course, he had still lost a lot of blood and was still bleeding profusely.
“…Are you perhaps a physician?”
“No.”
The man’s face twisted in bewilderment. He seemed unable to understand Jang Geon’s actions. Was he finding the request to take the child too troublesome? The man felt a sinking feeling in his chest.
Jang Geon could guess what he was thinking from his expression. He chuckled briefly before swiftly reaching out and applying pressure point strikes to the wound area. Even if he couldn’t do anything about the blood already lost, this should be enough to stop the bleeding, and that would suffice.
“Do you have any medicine or bandages?”
The man stared blankly as Jang Geon tapped his abdomen, seemingly amazed to see the bleeding stop. Then he answered with a start,
“Ah, yes. They should be in the carriage. …But what did you just do? Did you apply pressure point strikes? With your bare hands?”
Jang Geon smiled wordlessly and stood up. As he walked towards the carriage, he thought to himself how remarkable it was that bare-handed pressure point strikes were considered a rare skill in this martial arts world.
In this land, pressure point striking was a technique where experienced physicians would slowly locate the pressure points and insert thick needles. It was a skill that took a long time to learn and master, used only by veteran physicians. While martial artists who cultivated internal energy were also familiar with the body’s meridians, performing pressure point strikes was considered the domain of physicians—it was common belief.
They could not even conceive of channeling their internal energy into their fingertips to block an opponent’s meridians or induce abnormalities. Of course, this was also because martial artists only thought of using their internal energy to rip and shatter an opponent’s flesh when blocking their meridians. Jang Geon could never forget the puzzled looks his physician teacher had given him when he first learned pressure point striking.
Lost in these brief thoughts, Jang Geon approached the carriage and saw the open door and the bandit corpse lying inside. He dragged the body out and laid it beside the carriage, then searched the disarrayed interior and retrieved some bandages, medicinal powder, and an intact piece of clothing.
As Jang Geon returned to the man, he said,
“…Come to think of it, I haven’t heard the benefactor’s name yet. I’m Lee Yun.”
“Jang Geon.”
Jang Geon removed Lee Yun’s torn clothes, applied the medicinal powder, and wrapped him in bandages. Wearing the clothing Jang Geon had brought, Lee Yun struggled to sit up despite wobbling.
“I must go to my son, Hwan.”
Seeing that he might collapse again, Jang Geon sighed lightly but supported him. Staggering towards the carriage, Lee Yun knocked on the floor in one corner with his fist.
“Hwan? Are you okay, Hwan?”
After a moment, there was a rustling sound, and a portion of the floor slid open. A young boy peeked out with sleepy eyes, saw his father, and rushed to embrace him.
“Ah, Hwan! Your father’s dying! It hurts!”
Startled by Lee Yun’s cries, the boy recoiled. Only then did he notice the bandages and ask with a frightened expression,
“Papa, what’s wrong? Why is this happening?”
“Ugh, nothing big. I just got stabbed.”
“What? You were stabbed? Are you okay, Papa?”
Lee Yun finally seemed to realize he was alive and seeing his son’s face again, for he smiled faintly before collapsing.
“Papa!”
The startled boy hurriedly supported his father. Seeing Lee Yun’s closed eyes, the boy looked like he was about to burst into tears. Disliking the idea of the child crying, Jang Geon quickly grabbed his shoulder.
“He just fainted. The tension left him.”
“Huh? He’s not dead?”
“He’s not dead.”
“…Who are you, mister?”
“Jang Geon.”
The boy looked back and forth between the unconscious Lee Yun and Jang Geon with an expression of incomprehension, then said,
“So I’m supposed to know who you are just from you saying that?”
For a moment, Jang Geon was dumbfounded by the boy’s blunt words, but soon chuckled. Was this what was meant by “bright kid”?
“Is there any luggage to take?”
“…Luggage?”
“It doesn’t seem like we can tow the carriage. One of the wheels looks broken. I’ll bring a horse for you and your father to ride, so get your belongings ready.”
Before the boy could respond, Jang Geon turned away. Although most of the bandits’ horses had fled when their masters died, one black steed remained, circling near the dead leader’s body, likely his mount.
As Jang Geon led the horse’s reins, a thought occurred to him, and he approached the dead bandit leader. He picked up the large sword beside the corpse, intending to sever the head for the bounty.
However, he paused for a moment, recalling Lee Yun’s earlier words.
“…Three days. It’ll rot by then.”
Would they pass through any villages? It also seemed unpleasant to travel with a severed head while accompanied by a child.
Yet the need for money was real. Shaking his head slightly, Jang Geon beheaded the leader. Then, using the leader’s and the other bandits’ clothes, he wrapped the head tightly, nearly doubling its bulk.
After securing the head, Jang Geon searched the leader’s body. There was no money, as one might expect from a bandit preying on poor travelers, but he found a rectangular metal plaque. One side was engraved with the words “Samho Leader,” and the other side read “Gam Shunduk.”
“So his name was Gam Shunduk.”
The Samho Leader, huh? Perhaps there were also Ilho and Iho leaders. Their comrades might come seeking revenge. Jang Geon didn’t concern himself much with the thought. In fact, he welcomed them coming—as wanted men, their comrades would also fetch bounties.
Pocketing the plaque and securing the head on Jojo’s saddle, Jang Geon led the horse back to the carriage. The boy was standing there, clutching a small bundle of belongings and looking shaken, likely from seeing the surrounding corpses. Lee Yun had apparently regained consciousness and was standing beside him, stroking the boy’s head.
Jang Geon handed over the reins and said,
“Let’s go.”
“…Go? You’re taking us with you?”
“Will the capable aunt in Cheong Sangok really reward us, or was that a lie?”
Lee Yun stared at Jang Geon with a slightly dazed expression. Although uncertain about the circumstances, this blunt yet skilled swordsman did not seem to be a bad person. He had fended off the bandits and bandaged Lee Yun’s wound—he could have immediately demanded payment, but he did not.
“…No, my sister-in-law is indeed capable. With her skills, she’ll have amassed a fortune over the years. I also had some investments there.”
“Then let’s go. I don’t want to stay in this field of corpses any longer.”
As Jang Geon mounted the horse, Lee Yun hesitated briefly. He would have preferred to bury his former traveling companions first, even though they had only journeyed together for a short time—they had seemed like good people. However, he was injured, and Hwan was still a child, leaving Jang Geon as the only one capable of burying them.
“Papa.”
Hwan tugged at his father’s sleeve. Startled, Lee Yun looked down at his son’s clear eyes, then finally nodded. He helped Hwan onto the horse first, then climbed up behind him, holding the boy tightly. His hand gripping the reins trembled slightly.
“Yes, let’s go. Let’s leave quickly.”
Gauging the direction by the sun, they soon spurred the horse into a gallop, leaving the area behind. Hwan kept trying to look back, but Lee Yun stopped him.
The wind, rain, and beasts of the field would now erase their traces. Jang Geon did not know if they would become resentful ghosts wandering the realms, ascend to peaceful heavens, or perhaps be reincarnated. However, he hoped they could go somewhere free from the sufferings and hardships of life. That brief contemplation was the only tribute he could offer in this wilderness.
Jang Geon, Lee Yun, and his son Hwan did not travel very far at first, despite initially riding the horse unhindered. Lee Yun struggled due to his condition. It was understandable—for a commoner who had been bleeding profusely from a stomach wound to even be riding a horse was remarkable.
In the end, they had to stop and set up a small camp before the sun had even begun to set. After a simple meal of dried rations, they laid out blankets and rested. Jang Geon had wanted to playfully tease Hwan, but the boy’s somber expression made him reconsider.
Instead, noticing Lee Yun’s apparent discomfort from his stomach wound, Jang Geon asked,
“Is there a village before we reach this Cheong Sangok place?”
“Yes, there is one. Namsaghore, a lakeside village. It’s a small place. I heard there aren’t even any inns there. Our group had originally planned to stop there on our way.”
“When might we arrive there?”
Lee Yun let out a light sigh.
“Well, if we were just riding horses, we should have arrived before noon tomorrow… But…”
Jang Geon nodded. Then, even with Lee Yun’s condition slowing them down, they should still reach the village by evening. And although there might not be any inns, they should at least be able to procure emergency medicine. From what Jang Geon had examined, Lee Yun’s condition did not seem life-threatening, but he had only learned basic pressure point striking as a wandering layman—he could not fully assess Lee Yun’s health just by observing his meridian flow.
It would be unfortunate if, after going through the trouble of escorting them, Lee Yun were to suddenly collapse and die a few days later. Hwan would have no one to turn to. So Jang Geon decided to make Namsaghore their next destination. Lee Yun and Hwan had no reason to object.
* * *
Under the scorching sun, the fallen corpses were rapidly decomposing. Some scavenging beasts had already landed and plucked out the eyeballs from the bodies.
Two people on horseback arrived at the scene. They were both wearing wide bamboo hats and gray windbreaker robes. After slowly surveying the area, they dismounted to examine the state of the corpses.
One person crouched down to inspect a body up close. A short but fairly wide sword, about half a span across the blade, hung from their back.
“Time of death was yesterday afternoon. They all died around the same time.”
It was a somewhat low, feminine voice. Despite the brevity of her words, her calmness and strictness seemed palpable.
“These corpses, they’re those guys, right? The Jeogsadan Bandit Clan. Looks like they were slain while trying to raid that carriage over there.”
The man holding the horses’ reins behind her tilted his bamboo hat slightly to scan their surroundings as he spoke.
“From what I can count, they all seem to be dead.”
“Not all of them. Those bastards split into three groups when raiding, then regroup later to divide the spoils. These are just one of those groups.”
“Well, I suppose fewer of them is better. I thought our orders to wipe out their entire clan with just the two of us was a bit much.”
The woman, hands clasped behind her back as she surveyed the area, chided the man.
“We have to earn the elixir we accepted from the Murim Alliance. Could you return the full price they paid?”
“…No, but still.”
The man’s deflated response earned him a slight smile from the woman, but she soon hardened her expression as she stood up.
“This is interesting.”
“What is?”
“The people in the carriage don’t seem to have put up much resistance.”
“Really? Then what happened?”
“Someone else intervened later. Someone other than the carriage’s occupants.”
“Someone else?”
“Just one person.”
The woman walked slowly, her gaze falling on each of the dead Jeogsadan corpses one by one. Finally, she stopped in front of the headless body lying face down.
“Quite the skilled fighter, this one. They might even be one of the Jeogsadan’s Three Leaders.”
“…How can you tell all that just by looking at some corpses? I can’t make any sense of it.”
“You should study more instead of just frequenting taverns.”
Deflated by her successive rebukes, the man’s expression turned sullen. However, the woman seemed to have no attention to spare for his reaction. She swiftly circled the area, muttering to herself.
“…They fought one-on-one duels. The opponent was also a master. The remaining bandits couldn’t put up any real resistance against this master and died… Most of the carriage’s occupants seemed to be civilians… But one person survived. No, two—a child and… a father, perhaps? They rode off with the master. Though the father appeared to be injured.”
The man clicked his tongue in dismay.
“Honestly, you’re better at surveying sites than our Chief Inspector, who just flatters his superiors instead of doing actual work. Why don’t you take his position?”
At that moment, the woman suddenly crouched down again to examine the ground. The man quickly approached and asked,
“What is it? Did you find something else?”
After briefly inspecting the dirt, the woman removed her bamboo hat and looked eastward.
“…There were scouts here too. A small group came to survey the scene.
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