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Episode 19
Whish, thud, crack.
Baekseon watched Manyugang walk ahead with a dazed face. Even when he had borrowed that body, he had thought it strong, but—
“The level of mastery itself is different.”
Perhaps because it was his own flesh, Manyugang toppled demonic cultists with nothing more than a glance or flick of the wrist. By contrast, Baekseon had to sharpen every sense just to notice the hidden ones.
“Your dantian must be in tatters, yet you still track them well. I’m glad you’re adapting to that body.”
Manyugang spoke lightly, tapping Baekseon on the head. Treated like a child, Baekseon’s brows twitched. Seeing that, Manyugang tilted his head.
“Ah, you dislike having your head touched?”
“…That’s not really the issue.”
“Then perhaps you’d prefer this instead?”
He cupped Baekseon’s cheek with soft fingers. The touch was disarmingly intimate, and Baekseon turned away, dodging the hand. To cover the awkwardness, he spoke quickly.
“By the way, how did you know I had once used that body of yours?”
“Body, you say? I was hoping you’d call me hyung—elder brother.”
“Are you insane?”
The words slipped out before he could stop them. Manyugang only shrugged, clearly amused. Just then—
A piercing scream echoed from the depths of the tomb.
Baekseon’s face hardened instantly. He rushed past Manyugang into the darkness. And then he froze.
Splish.
His foot splashed into a pool. The stench of blood filled his nose. Scattered corpses lay across the floor—so mangled their gender could no longer be told.
But that wasn’t why Baekseon stood frozen.
The clothing.
Even with dark, dried blood caked on, he recognized them. These had been Tang family attendants.
“…The Tang clan doesn’t practice burial sacrifices.”
He bent closer, grinding his teeth. Carved into every forehead was the same character: 魔 (demon).
“…Offerings?”
He raised his head. In the shadows, a strange tower stood.
A tower of bones.
A grotesque spire built from children’s skeletons—something never found in the grave of a proper martial clan. Yet Baekseon had seen such a thing before.
“A Sacrifice Tower…”
A bitter laugh escaped his lips. Even if the righteous sect had lost the war, how could one of the Five Great Clans allow this within their ancestral tomb?
His teeth ground together. His body trembled with fury.
To see traces of the cult in the Tang tomb. To see Tang retainers slaughtered as sacrifices. To see children’s lives piled into that tower. And finally, to be sent here himself—
It was unforgivable.
Though small, the tower exuded a miasma so foul, so sticky and revolting it eclipsed even the tomb’s general corruption.
“Stay back. That body won’t endure if you go closer.”
Manyugang caught Baekseon’s wrist gently, then snapped his fingers.
The bone tower erupted into flames.
Screeeech!
It was as though hundreds screamed in unison.
“…Urgh!”
The sound split Baekseon’s skull. The surge of demonic energy lashed at his body until Manyugang pulled him into his arms, shielding him.
“Hm? I thought you could at least endure this much.”
“Kh… hhh…”
“Perhaps you’re too frail. Or perhaps it’s the spirits drifting here…”
Manyugang’s narrowed eyes studied him. If Baekseon collapsed so easily, persuading him would be harder than expected.
“I can endure… only because I can’t use internal energy right now.”
Sweat streamed down his face. Had he been able to circulate qi, such filth could never have touched him.
“When you used my body, you fought just fine without knowing any cultivation methods. So this body really is different, hm?”
“….”
“No wonder you slew those cultists so cleanly. Tell me—did you come to Sichuan seeking your lost cultivation manual?”
Baekseon nodded.
“But in this state, you can’t even step into the Tang compound, much less reclaim it.”
Catching his breath, he muttered, “So the patriarch sent me here only to kill me.”
The ground rumbled violently. From deeper within, auras fled. Then—boom—the tomb’s stone gate slammed shut behind them.
“He even prepared for the chance you might survive.”
A hollow laugh escaped Baekseon. No wonder Jinmyeong hadn’t raised a fuss about Cheonrang’s kiss—he had intended to kill him anyway.
“…Cheonrang.”
The thought of him twisted Baekseon’s chest. He had come here the moment Jinmyeong ordered it, but Cheonrang was likely still at the inn.
“I have to go.”
Half-dazed, he shoved at Manyugang’s chest. With a quiet sigh, Manyugang let him go. Baekseon sprinted to the sealed gate and strained against the massive stone blocking it.
“Ghhhk!”
The boulder didn’t budge. Of course—it was absurd to expect Tang Baekseon’s feeble body to move something that size.
“Damn it… Cheonrang!”
He drew back a fist to strike the rock—only for Manyugang to seize his arm mid-swing.
“With that body, it would be your bones that shatter.”
“But—!”
“Ahh… It pains this elder brother. Someone who could help stands before you, yet instead of asking, you struggle alone.”
He snapped his fingers. Somewhere in the darkness, a survivor writhed and screamed.
Baekseon’s breath caught. He had thought all the cultists fled before the gate shut. But one remained.
“Do you feel your helplessness now?”
“….”
He opened his mouth but found no words.
Since entering Tang Baekseon’s body, nothing had gone the way he wished. The inexplicable chill dulling his movements. The missing cultivation method that left him powerless.
But until now, Cheonrang’s presence had masked the severity of it.
“Remember the bandits when you left Yunnan? Had your disciple not arrived in time, what do you think would have become of you?”
“….”
“And now—what if I hadn’t been here? What if I weren’t treating you kindly?”
His cool fingertips pressed lightly to Baekseon’s throat.
With just a little pressure, he could cut off his breath. End him instantly.
“You teach your disciple to value every life—his own and others. So why do you treat your own life so carelessly?”
The words, paired with that faint smile, carried a chill that felt almost lethal.
