Chapter 132

Demonic Sect

When Tang Mujin revealed a side of himself unlike before, Mok Wana’s demeanor changed entirely.

“W-why are you doing this?”

Mujin’s grip on her throat tightened.

“What are you hiding?”

“I never lied!”

“You’d better think carefully before answering. You only have one life.”

“What do you want? I’ll do anything you say—just let me go!”

She begged, but Mujin did not release her.

In other circumstances, he might have let it pass. But this was not one of those times.

A person who could withstand the venom of a Venom Bird without consequence, a person whose inner qi flowed tainted with poison unlike any ordinary martial artist—how could anyone not find that suspicious?

Mujin’s suspicions grew darker. Could Mok Wana have been planted to watch him with ill intent?

And further still—could the masked intruder he encountered near the Cult Leader’s Hall be connected to her?

No—assuming there was no connection would be the strange conclusion.

What secrets lay hidden behind that pale face?

With a dry expression, Mujin’s fingers toyed with his sword hilt. He knew several methods to make a person speak the truth.

A thought crossed his mind—it might be destiny, a natural outcome. Just as Goiyi had killed the Demon Physician, so too should Tang Mujin slay the Demon Physician’s disciple. Wasn’t it fitting?

But Mok Wana was quick-witted. She could read Mujin’s intentions with ease.

“Ask me anything! I’ll tell you everything!”

Mujin gave a slow nod.

“Tell me all of it. But if your story doesn’t add up, then what remains will come out only after… unpleasant measures.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Let’s see. Start with the nature of your qi. Were you born with it? Or did you learn some special cultivation method as the Demon Physician’s disciple?”

“...Neither.”

“Explain in detail.”

Mok Wana hesitated, then began an old story.

“...I’ve lived in this cavern since I was a child.”

“What do you mean by ‘child’? Since when?”

“Since I was about six years old. Just like the others.”

“Others?”

“The Demon Physician brought children here from who-knows-where. As young as five or six, at most ten years old.”

Mujin’s attention sharpened. Others? So she hadn’t been alone.

“Where are the other disciples?”

“They’re all dead. Except me.”

“Don’t skip ahead. Explain carefully. How did they die? Is it related to your qi?”

Wana nervously rubbed the forearm that still bore the marks of his grip.

“I need to show you something first. Please—just let go for a moment.”

It was obvious she wanted to put even a little distance between herself and death.

Mujin knew it, yet he loosened his hand. Whether he held her throat or not, he could sever it in an instant if he wished.

She massaged her neck briefly, then pushed aside a desk against the wall. The small hidden tunnel he had seen earlier was revealed once more.

She looked at him steadily. Was she implying there was something to show inside?

Mujin jerked his chin.

“You go first.”

She obediently crawled into the narrow tunnel, and Mujin followed.

It was dark, longer than he expected—perhaps as deep as the Poison Cavern itself.

At last it widened, enough for an adult to stand, though barely.

Light flickered as Mok Wana lit a small torch. Whatever wood it was made from, it produced almost no smoke.

“Even with fire, it’s still dim.”

Mujin muttered absently, but Wana, mistaking it for disapproval, stammered an apology.

“Sorry… we can’t make it bigger. It gets hard to breathe.”

“I see.”

Mujin scanned the chamber.

Along the walls lay human skulls and bones, arranged neatly in rows.

He didn’t know precisely the size of adult bones, but some skulls were clearly too small—remnants of children. These must have belonged to the ones Wana had mentioned.

“Why keep these bones?”

“Even if they died, their traces should remain.”

Wana sat in a corner, leaning against the rock with practiced ease, as though it had always been her place.

Mujin sat apart, studying her expression.

She looked almost relieved, as if grateful for the chance to explain, her fear lessened somewhat.

“The Demon Physician taught us cultivation methods, then used us in poison experiments.”

“Why teach cultivation at all?”

“Because an ordinary person can be subdued by any common toxin. His goal was to create a poison capable of defeating martial artists.”

“Did he teach martial arts too?”

“No. Never. We only circulated qi—building inner power through endless breathing and meditation.”

Mujin reached out and grasped her arm.

It was soft, without muscle. The body of someone who had never trained in martial skills.

“Lie down.”

She obeyed, closing her eyes, though her body stiffened involuntarily.

“Relax.”

“Mm.”

Mujin placed a hand over her dantian and probed her qi.

It was abundant—less than his own, but greater than the average first-rate martial artist.

Of course, if all one did was accumulate qi while others split their time between martial forms and sword techniques, this was the natural result.

Mujin withdrew his hand.

“You’ve built up a lot of qi.”

“If we didn’t, we’d die. Without enough qi, the poison would consume us.”

“You can get up. So—is that why you became the Demon Physician’s disciple? Because you had the most qi?”

She shuffled back to her corner and leaned against the wall again.

“...No. I was simply the one who lived the longest. The longest survivor usually became his assistant. Some children survived long but never became assistants—if they were too dull. But I wasn’t that dull.”

Unlike Goiyi, the Demon Physician hadn’t raised his disciples with any care. No wonder they were so unrefined.

Wana continued,

“Being his assistant had its advantages. I could volunteer for the less dangerous experiments, and I could protect friends by keeping them out of the worst trials.”

Which meant the children she wasn’t close to had been pushed into greater danger.

Mujin felt no urge to condemn her. Anyone might have done the same in her place.

Nor did he feel inclined to defend her. It wasn’t his place to judge.

“That’s enough of that. Now tell me—why is your qi like that?”

The qi that held poison within it—that was what intrigued Tang Mujin most.

If he could obtain that kind of inner qi, then even without the Poison Pill, he would be able to wield poison arts. And if he could harmonize the Poison Pill’s venom with such qi, his strength would be even greater.

But the answer that came back was disappointing.

“I don’t know the exact reason. Maybe it’s because of the cultivation method, or maybe it’s just that I was exposed to too much venom. But I think it’s the latter. My qi wasn’t like this from the beginning. After surviving several brushes with death while pushing out poison, my qi and the venom became tangled together.”

“Your qi and venom intertwined… so this isn’t the first time you’ve faced the Venom Bird’s poison, is it?”

“That’s right. I was exposed to it a few times as a child.”

Mujin rubbed his chin. If the experiments had gone that far, then surely there should be records.

“Be honest. The Demon Physician left behind notes, didn’t he?”

“There used to be. Not anymore.”

Mujin frowned.

“Then where are they now?”

“After he died, others came and took everything.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. I was hiding here when people barged in. I heard them rustling around, but I stayed hidden.”

“Why? You should’ve stopped them.”

“It was dangerous. What if they killed me for being seen?”

A laugh, half bitter, escaped Mujin. Not wrong, but still.

“At least you must have read them.”

“No. I can’t read.”

The unexpected confession of illiteracy caught Mujin off guard.

But thinking it through, it made perfect sense. The children were raised as test subjects—why would the Demon Physician bother teaching them to read? All he needed were sturdy bodies with enough qi built up to endure his poisons, not clever assistants.

“Then why didn’t you tell anyone that you could withstand the Venom Bird’s poison? You knew people were desperately searching for a solution.”

“How was I supposed to know how they’d react? From what I’ve seen, the best chance to survive is to stay quiet, like you don’t even exist.”

Indeed, every time outsiders appeared, Mok Wana had hidden herself. She would have done the same whether it was the Three-Eyed Buddha, the Great Dharma Protector, or anyone else.

Then a thought struck Mujin.

“You only eat fasting pills to avoid drawing attention, don’t you?”

“That’s right.”

Mujin pressed hard at his temples.

Every story Wana had told him, every action she had taken—everything stemmed from a single motive: the desire not to die.

He glanced at her. A faint ease had returned to her face; the tremor in her voice was gone. She seemed convinced Mujin wouldn’t kill her.

‘Quick on the uptake, aren’t you.’

Mujin muttered inwardly, then spoke.

“So your plan was to just stay holed up in this cavern forever?”

“Of course. I’ve been doing that for over a year now.”

Her face bore no trace of dissatisfaction.

But Mujin struggled to understand. Wasn’t it normal for a person to reach for opportunity, even at some risk, rather than hide away?

“...Did you never want to live more like a human being? To stay in the village instead of a cave, to eat good food?”

“Living like a human isn’t anything special. This past year has been the happiest time of my life. The best period I’ve ever known.”

Mujin exhaled a long sigh and studied her face.

She returned his gaze and asked,

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“...I’m not sure.”

He couldn’t pass judgment on her life. The countless skulls and bones scattered in this cavern testified to how many brushes with death had surrounded her.

She asked again.

“Do you think I’m pitiful?”

“A little.”

“Then bring me more tanghua. Unlike you, that alone is enough to make me the happiest person in the world.”

With that, she curled up in the corner, burying her face between her knees.

Her words were frustrating, but Mujin had gained something of value.

Whether by using her, or through training with her, he could find a way forward.

Staring at her a moment longer, Mujin finally said,

“I’ll come back tomorrow.”

Then he left the Poison Cavern. By then, the Venom Bird’s poison had faded, barely perceptible in the air.

Stretching his arms wide, Mujin turned toward the village.

The lively festival atmosphere did not reach the entrance of the cavern.