I Kidnapped the Youngest Daughter of the Sichuan Tang Clan

Chapter 136



After Seol Lihyang and I absorbed our elixirs, we gave a brief farewell and left the Yeon Clan.

Peng Woojin and Yeon Ga-hye said their final goodbyes with serious expressions, declaring that next time, they would be the ones to help us...

But honestly, I’m not expecting much. Even if those two grow rapidly, by the time the Demonic Cult launches its invasion, they’ll be somewhere around the late Peak Stage or just reaching Sub-Perfection.

After all, even Tang Sowol—who reached the Flowering Stage before turning forty and after the Tang Clan had been annihilated—was an extreme outlier.

So I don’t expect much from Peng Woojin and Yeon Ga-hye.

It’s more than enough if they simply become a symbol of alliance between the Peng and Yeon Clans, just like now.

In my previous life, Hubei Province was the final bastion during the Demonic Cult’s invasion.

But back then, the Peng and Yeon Clans were destroyed in the blink of an eye, like beans roasted over lightning, and over half the province was breached before we even realized it…

That won’t happen in this life.

What remains now is to report our findings to the Murim Alliance, and ensure no one dares laugh off the Demonic Cult again— “So, Brother Cheon. You’ll be doing it tonight too, right? You’ll let me, won’t you?”

Right. There was still one more daily task left—“secret training” with Tang Sowol.

“What are you even saying? Also, could you stop using wording that causes misunderstandings?”

Tang Jincheon’s gaze is terrifying right now.

Tang Sowol giggled as if that reaction was exactly what she’d hoped for. Then, rising on tiptoe, she leaned in to whisper into my ear. Her warm breath tickled.

“My goodness. What exactly were you thinking? I was just asking how tonight’s secret training would go.”

“It’s not really a secret anymore, is it...”

The so-called “secret training” was a promise I’d made to Tang Sowol when she felt a bit neglected.

But during group travel, it’s nearly impossible to sneak off at night with just the two of us without anyone noticing.

Now, it’s become something everyone knows.

Even knowing that, Tang Sowol smiled as if she were thoroughly enjoying herself. She pulled away slightly.

A soft sigh escaped me at the sudden loss of warmth—only for her to link arms with mine and cling to my side.

“Still, it’s been a while since we’ve had some quality time together. Naturally, I’m excited.”

“Quality time... If that’s what you call trying to kill me every night.”

The only kind of training we could do together was sparring, and there was a considerable gap between us.

Which meant most of our matches on the road from Hubei to Wuhuan took the form of instructional sparring.

Typically, I would counter and break through Tang Sowol’s techniques, after which she would exhaust herself trying new ways to land a hit.

It wasn’t just because I’d just entered Sub-Perfection—I also knew her martial arts extremely well.

Yet, even knowing she couldn’t defeat me, Tang Sowol always came at me seriously.

So yes, “trying to kill me” wasn’t just a joke.

Though to her, it was clearly seen as a lovely nightly date.

“Good heavens! You have such a beautiful fiancée obsessed with you. Aren’t you the least bit happy?”

“Aren’t you embarrassed saying that about yourself?”

“Hmm.”

Tilting her head, she stretched her neck toward me.

Close enough that her green-tinted eyes reflected my startled expression.

So close I could hear her breathing. Maybe even her heartbeat.

Her eyes curved into half-moons as she smiled.

“So? Do you think I’m pretty or not, Brother Cheon?”

Long lashes, playful smile, and unmistakable affection radiating from her eyes.

For a moment, my brain stuttered like it had short-circuited. Then I replied:

“You don’t have to get that close. I already know—don’t worry.”

“Hmm. You still didn’t say I’m pretty. So shy~”

Tang Sowol giggled openly, like she’d seen something unbearably cute.

Tang Jincheon’s gaze grew more intense—but Seol Lihyang and Seo Mun-Hwarin’s looks weren’t any less sharp.

The difference was: Tang Jincheon’s eyes held a mixture of affection and resentment.

Seol Lihyang’s gaze had a hint of jealousy, while Seo Mun-Hwarin’s was filled with admiration and longing.

Noticing their reactions, Tang Sowol smiled meaningfully. A kind of “pecking order established” smile.

As if she’d gotten her full dose of self-satisfaction, she nudged me toward them, continuing in a bright voice.

“Anyway, isn’t it amazing how strong Brother Cheon became from just one elixir? Sister Harin, did you expect this? You two spar often, right?”

“Well, I more or less anticipated it. His comprehension had already reached Sub-Perfection—it was only his inner energy holding him back. I doubt anyone in our party, aside from myself or the Poison King, could even touch Hwi’s sleeve now.”

“W-wow...”

Tang Sowol gaped in disbelief.

Then again, our whole group just consisted of her, Seol Lihyang, and six martial artists from the Yeon Clan—three Peak Stage users who had taken the Blood Vitality Pill, and three first-class martial artists.

I could easily handle even people like the Master of the Black Sky Sword Sect or the Bloodflame Fist Demon, who I’d already defeated once.

As you ascend the martial path, even minor differences in level lead to massive disparities.

And between Peak Stage and Sub-Perfection, that gap was vast.

Lost in thought, Tang Sowol suddenly rushed over to Tang Jincheon and asked:

“Father, Father! Could you spar with Brother Cheon sometime?”

“Huh? That’s sudden.”

“Well, I’ve sparred with him so much, and since he’s seen so much of the Tang Clan’s techniques, he counters poison and hidden weapons effortlessly. I can’t even figure out how to beat him anymore!”

“That is a bit problematic. But honestly, it’s best to just consider him an exception.”

“Huh? Even you, Father...?”

Seeing her skeptical face, Tang Jincheon spoke seriously.

“Of course not. I could still beat him using Tang Clan techniques. I’m just saying—I could only do it once.”

“What do you mean, only once...?”

Tang Sowol tilted her head, and Tang Jincheon explained calmly.

“You’ve been feeding him all kinds of poisons and herbs since he entered the Tang Clan, right?”

“That’s true.”

“By now, minor poisons won’t work on him at all. Even if they do, they wouldn’t be strong enough to take him down.”

“Then… you mean if you used a real poison…?”

“If I used extreme poisons, they’d work. But I couldn’t guarantee his safety.”

“No way! Sparring with Brother Cheon is forbidden, Father!”

Tang Sowol crossed her arms in an “X” over her head and shook her head furiously.

Tang Jincheon let out a helpless laugh but pressed on.

“Same goes for hidden weapons. Surprisingly, for someone his age, he uses sword techniques on par with the best swordsmen I’ve seen. Unless I unleashed a lethal move like Ten Thousand Petals of Death, I doubt I could defeat him.”

“What kind of person turns Brother Cheon into a pincushion during sparring!?”

“I said I could, not that I would. Also, I don’t remember you ever raising your voice at me like this—except now. Raising a daughter really is thankless.”

Though clearly a little wounded, Tang Jincheon kept walking without slowing.

And so, for several days, we continued traveling—absorbing the lingering energy of our elixirs, training when we could, and occasionally cheering up a sulky Tang Jincheon.

Until at last, we reached Wuhuan City, and returned to the Murim Alliance.

“Is this really true, Poison King?”

“If you're unsure, examine the handwriting in the letter. An organization like the Murim Alliance must have dossiers on someone like the Bloodflame Fist Demon. And we’ve brought plenty of Blood Vitality Pills for separate analysis.”

“I’m not exactly doubting you... It’s just so unbelievable I’m having trouble processing it.”

The Alliance Leader re-read the letter several times. With each pass, his expression grew more grim.

Though he was now better known as the Leader of the Murim Alliance, in the past, he was famed as the Righteous Heavenly Saint, a warrior of unshakable chivalry.

To someone like him, the Demonic Cult’s scheme in Hubei—and the actions of the Bloodflame Fist Demon—would be absolutely intolerable.

As if coming to a decision, the Alliance Leader nodded.

“We need to investigate this matter thoroughly. Perhaps we’ve underestimated the Demonic Cult for too long.”

Finally.

The fact that those words had come from the mouth of none other than the Alliance Leader himself...

In my previous life, not even half of the orthodox Murim had been wiped out before they started to take it seriously.

I struggled to suppress the overwhelming sense of accomplishment—but even so, it was too early to be pleased.

This wasn't yet a matter of life and death to him. He was merely enraged by the Demonic Cult's cruelty, acting from a sense of duty as a righteous warrior.

He wouldn’t form an alliance and strike preemptively—nor would he ready Murim for war.

Still, at the very least, he would raise the alert level.

“More than simply keeping an eye on things, we’ll send those skilled in stealth to gather intelligence on the Demonic Cult’s recent movements.”

Exactly like that.

“If the situation is worse than we thought...The Murim Alliance will have one more war to fight.”

Sharp eyes. A firm voice. The Alliance Leader was declaring his readiness to act if necessary.

We’d gone through so much to reach this point.

Of course, when compared to the Demonic Cult’s meticulous preparation and the Heavenly Demon’s overwhelming power, this was only the beginning…

But every great endeavor begins with a single step.

Just as I nodded in quiet satisfaction, the Alliance Leader’s hardened expression softened.

“In any case, you’ve accomplished something tremendous.

White-Haired Rakshasa—no, Clan Head Seo Mun, you as well.”

“What?”

“Honestly, while I knew you sincerely wanted to leave the demonic path behind...I thought at best you’d remain neutral or mildly friendly toward us.”

“Hmph. I’ll admit, I’m a bit offended that you only half-believed me. But it’s also true that I got involved mainly because of Hwi’s request. So if you’re giving out credit, give it to him.”

“Then Young Hero Cheon Hwi must be a blessing to Murim itself.”

“You flatter me.”

I bowed lightly, and the Alliance Leader chuckled, patting me on the shoulder.

“Flattery? Hardly. You uncovered and crushed the Demonic Cult’s sinister plan. You defeated the infamous Bloodflame Fist Demon. And you even brought Clan Head Seo Mun into the fold. You deserve the recognition.”

“Actually, it was Peng Woojin and Yeon Ga-hye who first uncovered the plan. And I only defeated the Bloodflame Fist Demon thanks to Seol Lihyang’s help. As for Clan Head Seo Mun—she’s always had a good heart. All I did was bring people together.”

“Hmm. I see. Then, shall we cancel your reward?”

“But if a senior offers a gift, wouldn’t it be impolite to refuse?

If possible, I’d like to request one martial art from the Murim Alliance’s library.”

“Hah! I was only joking. Don’t worry. So, what kind of martial art are you looking for?”

Truth be told, I had been hoping for this.

After all, I had done something that helped steer all of Murim in a better direction. With the ideals the Murim Alliance was founded on, it wasn’t unreasonable to hope for a reward.

And I already had something in mind.

“Do you happen to have any sound-based martial arts?”

If Seol Lihyang would eventually cultivate a sound-based art like in my previous life, then I wanted her to learn the best from the start.

As I’d told Tang Jincheon earlier, we left for Anhui Province right after obtaining a sound art for Seol Lihyang.

And in front of the Namgung Clan, I saw a familiar face.

Familiar—not in the pleasant sense.

“What was his name again? Something Hwangbo, I think...”

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