The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel-Chapter 163: Inevitability - 7
“It’s far beyond what she can control.”
The medical hall leader spoke with a heavy expression, explaining Hwa-rin’s condition.
She hadn’t been able to fully bind the poison energy of the Millennium Centipede—used by Tang Geo-ho as his ultimate hidden technique—into her Poison Pellet.
During battle, the centipede’s poison, like a herd animal obeying its master’s guidance, followed the energy of the Poison Pellet. But now that the fight was over, it had begun to turn on its new host.
“What do we do?”
He had said that she could survive if we went to the Sichuan Tang Clan. I pressed the medical hall leader for details.
“We need a Poison Pellet refined from the venom of the Face-Stealer Spider to control the intense yang-type poison from the Millennium Centipede.”
A Face-Stealer Spider’s pellet... That’s no joke. The Face-Stealer Spider was a creature the size of a large predator with a human face. But just because it had a human face didn’t mean it was friendly. In the martial arts world, it was a poison-based spirit beast ranked S-tier in terms of danger.
“There’s one at the Sichuan Tang Clan?”
“There is.”
The medical hall leader nodded. At least I wouldn’t need to debate whether a greatsword or gunlance is better for hunting a giant spider. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com
“So we just go there immediately?”
“There’s a problem. The Face-Stealer’s pellet is a clan treasure. You’ll have to convince both the Clan Head and the Elders, and then the creature itself. Even if they agree to give it to her, we can’t be sure her body will endure the venom from both the Millennium Centipede and the Face-Stealer Spider.”
“Persuasion, endurance, uncertainty... Either way, staying here won’t help.”
No matter how difficult it was, we had to go to the Tang Clan and figure it out there.
“There’s an even more serious issue.”
“What is it?”
“If we leave this village, we could be targeted by the Demonic Sect’s remaining forces or a pursuit unit.”
“You’re saying that last fight wasn’t the end?”
“The main assault likely came during the night, but it’s possible they predicted we’d escape and have someone lying in wait.”
“So let me get this straight. We have to charge through a path possibly crawling with Demonic Sect bastards, risking our lives just to maybe reach the Tang Clan. Then we have to convince them to give us their most treasured artifact, which may or may not work, and then hope Hwa-rin survives the combined venom inside her body?”
My voice came out sharper than I intended. I was getting irritated.
“...There’s one more option.”
Maybe the leader sensed how hopeless the other plan sounded, because he offered an alternative.
“Let’s hear this easy way.”
“Go back the way we came. It’s easier to descend the mountain than to press on. While we retreat, we can send a message to the Tang Clan and wait for reinforcements to escort us back.”
It really did sound easy. If not for one fatal flaw, I might’ve selected that path on instinct.
“Hwa-rin would die, right?”
“Fortunately, before she collapsed, she succeeded in binding the poison energy to the pellet. She can endure for now, but we don’t know for how long.”
“Then why even suggest a method that won’t work?”
If there’s only one way to save her, what’s the point in bringing up something else?
When I snapped, the medical hall leader looked at me with some frustration and replied:
“Because we might be escorting the hope of the Tang Clan. Avoiding unnecessary risk is worth considering.”
Hope? I looked around, confused. Suddenly, I could feel everyone’s eyes on me.
You’re saying I’m the hope? Me? The black-haired barbarian? Damn, I’ve come up.
At some point, they’d all accepted the idea that I was the Tang Clan Head’s illegitimate son. I turned toward the medical hall leader. He stared back in silence—testing me.
You want me to choose.
“Hwa-rin is a daughter of the Tang Clan. A victim of the Tang Clan. A secret buried by the Tang Clan. And now, after overcoming all her pain, she’s finally grown wings—only to fall again. If the Tang Clan turns its back on her now, what honor does the clan even have left?”
I looked around, my voice calm but earnest.
There’s no way they’d say they won’t protect her now. They already risked their lives for her—and she saved theirs. But the only thing that matters now is my choice.
“Sometimes, turning away is what must be done for the greater good.”
The medical hall leader spoke, testing me once again.
“Then don’t ask me to be the one who turns away from her.”
“She could die—and you with her.”
“Didn’t you just say I might be the Tang Clan’s hope? Hwa-rin risked her life for me. If I can’t do the same for her, then don’t ever call me a hope again.”
Sure, I value my life. But if I lose Hwa-rin here, then I lose everything except that life.
I’d lose the comrade I trust with my back, the friend who believes in me, Daseogak, Ho-pil, Storm of the Tang Clan, and even the occasional eye candy from a loose front collar.
I clawed my way up from a beggarly black-haired outcast to this point.
Losing her now would mean hitting the reset button—back to the tutorial village. I’d rather gamble than go through that again.
“Very well. If that’s your will... then we go.”
The medical hall leader smiled, satisfied with my answer.
Like you were gonna say no. What was the point of the whole act?
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“We’ll split into three groups. Those who can still fight will protect Miss Tang Hwa-rin and continue forward. Vice Pavilion Head Dang-Pae and the severely injured will stay and recover, then rejoin us later.”
He began quickly reorganizing the remaining crew.
“If there are three groups, what’s the third?”
“Those of us, myself included, who still possess martial skill but are too wounded for prolonged combat. We’ll form a diversion.”
“What are you saying?”
“My injuries are no small matter. In large-scale battle, I’d only be a hindrance. If enemies pursue, we’ll split off and confuse them.”
So he’s volunteering to be the bait. A solid tactic—any pursuers would definitely get distracted—but the bait rarely survives.
“You’ll die. Just come with us...”
“Do I look like the kind of man who needs a barbarian’s concern?”
He sneered at me.
“Ha.”
Hope, huh? And now I’m back to being a barbarian. Guess I shouldn’t have worried.
“I can escape from the jaws of death. Don’t worry.”
He tried to reassure me and gave me a long look. The sneer was still there, but his gaze was definitely softer than when we first met.
“Take care of yourself.”
We didn’t get along, but anyone willing to stake their life for me deserves at least that much.
“Let’s move out.”
-----------
“Tang Geo-ho, you bastard! If you failed, then find the Poisoned One!”
Crisis struck again, fast.
As soon as we left the mountain village and returned to the mountain road, a squad of black-clad assailants attacked.
They were clearly weaker than the ones we faced the night before—but their persistence was impressive. The medical hall crew launched throwing weapons and poison in all directions, but the pursuit didn’t stop.
“I’ll head southwest. You all go northwest!”
“Damn it—we’re splitting up!”
When it became impossible to shake them off, we finally enacted the plan. One team became the bait.
“Urgh!”
“Argh!”
The pursuit was weaker now, but it hadn’t stopped.
One by one, exhausted warriors fell. The carriage we were riding in toppled.
“Goddamn it!”
I was flung from the carriage like a ragdoll, spinning a full 720 degrees like a triple axel on steroids.
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
“Kill them a—!”
“Fight to the en—!”
“The wagon—!”
What are they shouting? I can’t hear properly—everything’s ringing. It feels like I just came out of major surgery and the anesthesia hasn’t fully worn off. My mind is foggy.
What happened? Right... I got thrown from the wagon when it tipped. My body won’t move properly. Did I get seriously injured? Luckily, I can still feel my fingers and toes.
Swimming through water is hard enough—diving headfirst into the dirt with a 720-degree spin must’ve done a number on me.
Never been in a car crash back in my world, but I guess I’ve checked that box now—in a wuxia visual novel, no less. I couldn’t hear clearly, couldn’t move well, so I just used my eyes to scan the surroundings.
I could hear things. I just... couldn’t see anyone. Did I fly that far? My back was wet, and there was pain. Did a wound reopen?
If I close my eyes now, I’ll probably pass out. So I stared at the sky.
When was the last time I lay on the ground staring up at the sky?
I forced myself to think, anything to stay conscious. Something I could recall fast. The déjà vu in my body helped me trace the memory.
Unfortunately... it wasn’t a good one.
Of all things, why did I remember getting beat up in Chilgok County? Mugged by third-rate thugs, beaten bloody, lying in the mud in the rain, wondering if life could sink any lower.
I remember crying out to the sky, asking why there was no chivalry in this world. Why no one came to help.
“Find the writer Ho-pil!”
“Where’s Young Master Kang?!”
Looking back now, despite my cynicism, there were people in this «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» world who lived with some sense of justice. Maybe not the heroic ideals from the martial novels I grew up reading, but still...
“Gah!”
“Damn Demonic Sect bastards!”
“The wagon! The Poisoned One is inside!”
Of course, realizing that some chivalry exists doesn’t mean this world is like the martial arts stories I once dreamed about.
This isn’t a place where a righteous warrior magically appears to save the day. It’s a world where everyone’s just struggling to survive.
“I’ve got to help too.”
I have to stand. Muttering to myself like self-hypnosis, I pushed strength into my arms and legs.
I have to protect Hwa-rin. If I don’t get up now, I’ll lose her. Just like back in Chilgok. I won’t cry helplessly at the sky again. Once was enough.
I slowly lifted myself and scanned the scene. A standoff. Tense. Maybe someone would swoop in and fix this—but this isn’t a heroic wuxia novel.
This is a martial arts visual novel world.
The only one who can save me... is me.
I have to get to the fallen horse, at least—help get it back up—
“Ah!”
My body buckled.
Damn it. I collapsed again. My body was heavy, but my eyes annoyingly sharp—everything felt like slow motion as I watched myself fall.
I braced for impact, expecting to slam into the hard ground—but instead, I landed on something firm... and warm. A body.
“I understand your courage—but please, lie down.”
“...Who?”
A figure appeared, unexpected. They gave me a small smile and walked past, toward the enemy.
**********
There was once a man.
He wondered if there was any chivalry in this world.
He wondered what kind of martial world he had dreamt of.
A world where no one reached out to a black-haired barbarian. A world of foul-smelling shanty towns. A rainy day. A man lying in the mud, body ruined, screaming at the sky.
That man wanted to find hope. He wanted to write something that could bring hope into this world. He wanted someone—anyone—to read his desperation and his dream.
He decided to write wuxia.
And so, on barren ground, the man planted a single seed.
Contrary to his wishes, that seed didn’t sprout. But the man wasn’t the kind to just cry to the heavens. He brushed off the dust and began walking again.
But make no mistake—he did plant that seed.
And just as every cause has an effect, that planted seed would eventually bear fruit in many forms.
“Who are you?!”
Some seeds rot unnoticed, some are eaten by birds and vanish, and some take root and sprout.
“From the Grand Wudang Sect.”
Coincidence. That one man’s hope, by sheer coincidence, took root at the heart of the Daoist martial sect.
“A third-generation disciple.”
Fate. A third-generation disciple found a connection to Wudang in a poorly written book. And so, the seed sprouted.
“Successor of the Eight Trigrams Sword Art.”
A fated opportunity. That disciple discovered a miraculous flower within that seed—a miracle called opportunity.
The bloomed flower birthed new seeds. And those seeds created new connections.
That is why this meeting today is not coincidence, nor destiny, nor fortune—
But inevitability.
“My name is Cheong-un.”
