Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 11

Chapter 11

We had only just reached the safety of the cave with Elder Cheolsan and the remaining fighters, though our escape came at a cost.
One warrior from the Tang Clan, the one who had ventured too close to the Zhenbird to hurl a stone, was inevitably the last to retreat.
As Elder Cheolsan pulled him inside, the man stared at the piece of realgar in his palm, now worn down to the size of a single grain, before scrambling after us in terror.
He was alive, but his garments had been utterly destroyed. For a long time, he labored to purge the vicious toxins that had seeped into his system.
Elder Cheolsan explained that the warrior’s survival was due solely to his foundation in the Tang Clan’s poison-resistant arts. He was fortunate—had the lingering protective aura from our collective realgar not drifted back to shield him, he would have perished.
Even deep within the cave, we dared not relax.
A faint white smoke continued to rise from the realgar each of us carried.
It was no longer pouring out like vapor from dry ice plunged into water, as it had during our flight, but the mere fact that it still smoked meant poison lingered in the air.
Should the realgar dissolve entirely, we would all be doomed.
“A Z-Zhenbird?! Elder, can you be sure it was truly a Zhenbird?”
The deputy commander’s voice shook with incredulity.
In response, Elder Cheolsan recited what sounded like a passage from an ancient text.
“Its wingspan measures five *chi*. Its beak is sharp and the color of copper, and its body is sheathed in feathers of a profound purple-red. When enraged, it spreads its wings, plunging all surroundings into absolute darkness, transforming everything into a domain of venomous death. A golden crown rests upon its head, a symbol of its imperial majesty.
This being is named the Zhenbird.”
Every detail he described was a perfect match for the horror I had seen.
My own voice quivered as I asked, “I-Is that creature one of the Ten Great Venomous Beasts?”
Elder Cheolsan gave a slow, grave nod, his words confirming the impossible.
“That being is not merely one of the Ten Great Venomous Beasts—it reigns above them all. It is recognized as the Emperor of All Venomous Beasts: the Zhenbird.”
“The Emperor of the Ten Great Venomous Beasts!”
‘This is madness. Sheer madness!’
My entire impression of the Zhenbird could be summarized in that single word: madness.
Compared to this living cataclysm, the most lethal insects and serpents of my past life seemed utterly harmless.
The Zhenbird was a walking weapon of mass annihilation, and the memory of the melting corpses and dissolving creatures made my flesh creep.
Its poison was so absolute it scoured the land clean, as if wiped away by a colossal hand.
“A Zhenbird on Hainan Island… Legends say it feeds solely on venomous snakes, which must be what attracted it. The abundance of poisonous serpents here likely drew it to this place,” Elder Cheolsan reasoned.
I shook myself from my daze and asked, “I-Is it normal to come across something like that?”
“Of course not,” Elder Cheolsan answered. “If Zhenbirds were commonplace, the Central Plains would be a graveyard. A person could live a hundred lifetimes and never glimpse one. I have only ever read descriptions in ancient texts; this is my first true encounter. It is said they emerge only once every century or two.”
If his words were true, such a creature existing unchecked would mean the end of all life.
I stared vacantly toward the cave entrance and murmured, “Is there any method to capture that thing…?”
It was less a serious question and more a thought spoken aloud without intent.
Yet Elder Cheolsan smiled. “Do you wish to capture it, young warrior?”
For someone who had died in a previous life attempting to secure one of the Ten Great Venomous Snakes, the Ten Great Venomous Beasts represented an ultimate aspiration—a distant dream.
Even so, I replied in a haze, my eyes still fixed on the cave mouth. “Yes… but with venom that powerful, it seems hopeless…”
Anyone trying to approach would likely dissolve before getting within reach.
Elder Cheolsan gave a playful chuckle. “You possess a deep fascination with the Ten Great Venomous Beasts, it seems. Well, a method does exist.”
My eyes went wide. “There is a way?!”
“Naturally,” he stated plainly. “The Tang Clan successfully captured a Zhenbird three centuries ago.”
His declaration shocked me back to full alertness. If they had a history of capturing one, then they must possess records detailing how.
“Is that the truth?” I asked, my disbelief unconcealed.
Elder Cheolsan didn’t answer directly but instead offered a cryptic smile before looking back toward the entrance.
“If one masters the Tang Clan’s poison arts, they become immune to all poisons, even the venom of the Zhenbird. Our martial arts are the only ones in this world capable of countering its toxin.
However… our clan’s laws forbid imparting our techniques to any who are not family… A true pity. I would gladly assist you, but rules cannot be broken. Hahaha.”
His laugh bordered on teasing, yet I understood. The secrets of their poison arts were undoubtedly the Tang Clan’s most prized legacy.
Hesitantly, I inquired, “If I were to become a member of the Tang Clan, would I then be permitted to learn?”
I needed certainty. Merely joining wasn’t enough; I had to know they would truly instruct me.
Elder Cheolsan smiled once more, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“If you decide at this very moment, I will teach you everything I know, holding nothing back. I will even include some additional rewards. But if you take too long to consider…”
‘Did this man also get reincarnated? He sounds like a pop-up advertisement.’
Elder Cheolsan’s proposition was overwhelmingly tempting, worded like a limited-time deal.
‘Very well. I can’t remain alone in the wilderness forever. Personal hobbies can wait. This is an chance I cannot refuse.’
My choice was made.
“I accept! I will join the Tang Clan! Please look after me, Elder—no, Clan Leader!”
Elder Cheolsan laughed, a hearty sound that filled the cavern. “Splendid! From this moment forward, you are one of us—for all time!”
His jubilant laughter was cut short as the grim truth of our predicament returned. We still had to find a way to survive and escape the cave.
***
A full day passed before we could finally venture out.
The faint smoke that had been wisping from our realgar finally ceased its reaction, granting us a measure of relief.
Had it continued for another hour or two, the protective stones would have been entirely consumed.
“What… is this?”
“Heavens above…”
“The bodies… they’ve vanished!”
What met us outside was a scorched and blackened desolation.
The ground, once littered with piles of the dead, was now a barren patch of black earth extending twenty to thirty meters in every direction.
Not a single blade of grass or sign of an insect remained.
The vibrant plant life, the tall trees, and the mounds of corpses had all been erased, leaving behind only dark soil and scorched rock.
It was as if the horrors of the previous day had been a fleeting nightmare, leaving a stark, lifeless reality in their wake.
“Can we safely walk on this earth?”
“I tested it with the last of our realgar as we exited. Strangely, the poison has entirely vanished,” Elder Cheolsan reported.
The venom that had saturated the area had apparently evaporated or dissipated entirely.
Assured of our safety, our next duty was to honor those who had fallen.
The Tang Clan warriors found an old bottle of liquor in a nearby mountain hut. With it, we performed a simple rite to pray for the souls of the departed.
“May they find peace in the next life…”
Once the brief ceremony concluded, I turned to Elder Cheolsan. “So, we proceed to Sichuan now?”
“Yes, it is time we did.”
“First, I must go to the Daoist temple to free my companions. I cannot take them with me to the Tang Clan.”
“Agreed. We will go to the temple first. You will need to collect your belongings as well.”
“Let’s depart.”
“Indeed.”
Elder Cheolsan had already retrieved the secret manual of the Blood-Handed Rakshasa. I had thought he might destroy it, but the Tang Clan prioritized pragmatism above all. They planned to study the manual for any useful knowledge before discarding the rest.
No matter how evil the arts, the Tang Clan believed there was always something to be learned.
It felt like looting a powerful foe in a game after defeating Tak Wonyang, and now, as a clan member, I assumed their gains could eventually benefit me too.
With that thought, I climbed onto Elder Cheolsan’s back as we prepared to set out for the ruined temple.
That was when I spotted something glinting at the heart of the blackened waste.
I pointed toward the faint shimmer. “There’s something over there.”
“Hm? What is it?”
We all moved toward the gleaming object at the center of the barren ground.
It was a single feather, its purple color shimmering with an iridescent green sheen under the light.
How could I forget that hue?
It was unmistakably a feather from the Zhenbird.
“This… this is…”
“A Zhenbird feather!”
I longed to touch it but held back, fearing it might still carry poison.
Elder Cheolsan, however, produced a pair of gloves from his robe, carefully lifted the feather, and placed it into a protective case.
“I will have this analyzed at the main estate and give it to you later. You seem to desire it greatly. Let it be your first gift as a member of the Tang Clan.”
“Th-Thank you, Elder—no, Clan Leader!”
The feather would soon take its place alongside the leg of the Blue-Spotted Centipede as one of my most cherished possessions. I was already envisioning crafting it into an ornament for my belt when Elder Cheolsan’s voice broke my reverie.
“That is well, but I am still not entirely pleased with how you address me. We will correct that after the ceremony.”
“Ceremony?”
It appeared there was a formal initiation ritual for becoming a full member of the Tang Clan. I could only hope it would be swift and straightforward.
***
For the first time in months, a sense of vitality replaced the grim silence at the entrance to the Sichuan Tang Clan.
The cause was the return of Tang Mu-seong, the Heavenly Poison Deity and grandfather to the clan leader’s sole daughter, Tang Hwa-eun. He had journeyed far to acquire the cure that might spare her life.
Yet his own state was far from reassuring.
The face of the Tang Clan’s foremost master was haggard and pallid, a clear sign he had driven himself to the brink, expending every bit of his inner energy to hasten his return.
“E-Elder!”
“How… how is Hwa-eun?”
These were the first words from Tang Mu-seong’s lips, his concern for his granddaughter paramount.
Ordinarily, a low-ranking warrior would not dare speak out, but this man’s trembling voice betrayed his shared anxiety for the young mistress.
“She… she still lives! Did… did you succeed? Did you obtain the cure?”
Every guard held their breath, their eyes locked on Tang Mu-seong’s mouth, awaiting his answer.
A faint smile touched his lips as he delivered the news they all desperately yearned to hear.
“I have obtained the Neidan of the Blue-Spotted Centipede.”
“Waaaaah!”
The warriors burst into cheers, their cries of relief echoing through the Tang Clan compound.
The commotion swiftly reached the inner family quarters.
From the main hall, a middle-aged woman rushed out, using her light-footed Qinggong to dart toward the entrance. Her face, initially tight with worry, transformed into a shout of astonishment. “What is all this noise?! F-Father?!”
The woman, Naeng So-ryeon, the matriarch of the Tang Clan and mother to Tang Hwa-eun, saw Tang Mu-seong.
“Come, daughter-in-law,” Tang Mu-seong said, his voice weary but firm. “I have brought the Neidan of the Blue-Spotted Centipede.”
“You… you succeeded! Oh, merciful heavens!”
Naeng So-ryeon burst into tears—tears said to be as venomous as the poisons the clan commanded.
Without a moment’s delay, the two hurried to the pavilion where Hwa-eun lay.
Inside the chamber, Tang Mu-seong was met with the sight of his granddaughter, her entire body tinged a dreadful, deathly blue.
The clan’s elders were gathered around her, their faces dripping with sweat as they channeled their internal energy into her, fighting to sustain her life.
Seeing Tang Mu-seong, they greeted him with profound relief.
“Elder!”
“You have returned!”
Tang Mu-seong wasted no time with formalities. His focus was entirely on Hwa-eun, whose condition was far more critical than he had feared.
Her breathing was barely perceptible, and the poison’s advance was terrifying.
“This was too close… Had I delayed, she would have been lost.”
“Please hurry, Elder,” one of the elders urged, their voice tight with desperation.
Tang Mu-seong swiftly drew a silk pouch from his robe and extracted a green orb, about the size of a walnut, from within.
With great care, he placed the Neidan into Hwa-eun’s motionless mouth and began guiding his own depleted internal energy into her body.
Though he was exhausted from his relentless journey, his first priority was to alleviate his granddaughter’s suffering without a second’s delay.
After a full quarter-hour, a soft sigh escaped Hwa-eun’s lips.
Soon after, the dreadful blue tint began to recede from her skin, replaced by her natural, porcelain complexion.
It was a miracle—a recovery made possible by the Neidan, which Tang Mu-seong would never have obtained without the aid of a certain mysterious young warrior.