The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel

No matter how skilled the archer, it’s only natural to tense up while the arrow is still in flight.

Even after a day passed, then another, there was still no news of Hwa-rin. Could my prediction have been wrong? No. I was sure my sincerity had reached her.

I’d been worrying several times a day when finally, good news arrived.

“She’s passed the critical point.”

The Pavilion Head came to me with a grave expression, like a surgeon stepping out of the operating room.

“Truly?”

“Whether it’s the Joseon ginseng having drawn out her vitality, or her body advancing rapidly as a Poisoned One, her physical condition has dramatically improved.”

It was less thanks to the ginseng and more thanks to the black-haired barbarian, but since both were made in Joseon, I decided to keep quiet.

“Whew. That’s a relief.”

I let go of the tension that had held me tight for over three days and sat down on the bed.

“But something unexpected happened.”

The Pavilion Head twisted the conversation again, perhaps to tighten the slack in my nerves. Didn’t he just say the crisis was over?

“What happened?”

“Originally, the remaining toxic energy would be formed into a Poison Pellet while the positive and negative energies of the two poisons annihilated each other, but that child Hwa-rin, contrary to our intentions, tried to incorporate even the yet-unannihilated energies into the Poison Pellet.”

“That’s dangerous, isn’t it?”

Didn’t he say survival depended on controlling only the pure toxic energy?

“We were all on edge because of that, myself included, but she succeeded in forming the Poison Pellet. Barely, she brought the energies within her body under her control.”

So Hwa-rin’s newly reinforced body is now strong enough to control even the positive and negative energies within the poison?

“Then the worst-case scenario has definitely been avoided?”

“By forming the Poison Pellet, she brought all internal energies under her control. It’ll take time, but now she just needs to steadily consolidate those toxins into a complete Poison Pellet.”

“Then that’s good.”

An unexpected two-for-one outcome—what a relief. I’d worried for nothing. I let out another sigh of relief.

“Now get some sleep. I heard you haven’t slept at all for the past three days.”

“I’ll try giving it a shot now.”

Now that I felt I could finally let my guard down, my head suddenly went dizzy. Maybe I really can sleep now. Still, I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and hear something unexpected happened.

“Click. Judging by the look of you, you’re not going to sleep properly until that child gets back on her feet. Since I finally get to breathe a little too, come to the training hall tomorrow.”

The Pavilion Head looked at me—still hesitating between sleep and wakefulness—with pity, then made a completely unexpected suggestion.

“The training hall? What for?”

“It’s something necessary. For Hwa-rin, and for you. Just come.”

He dismissed my uneasy question, saying I’d understand tomorrow, then left my room.

What in the world is he planning for tomorrow?

----------

After finally catching a few hours of sleep and waking up in the morning, the Pavilion Head came looking for me again.

“It’ll still take a few more days for Hwa-rin to convert all the toxins into the Poison Pellet. In the meantime, you should train in martial arts.”

I had a feeling it’d be the training hall the moment he summoned me—and of course, it was.

“No need. I’ve no intention of getting tethered to the Tang Clan.”

In the martial world, belonging to the same house means sharing martial arts. But to survive, I had to keep my distance from the Tang Clan. I had no interest in learning their martial arts and being bound tighter.

“You’re a child born with Tang blood. Even if you’ve given up your right to become the young clan head, everyone acknowledges you as Tang-blooded. Whether you learn martial arts or not won’t change that.”

Nope. I’m saying it because I don’t have Tang blood.

“Hwa-rin and I will return to Yichang once she’s recovered. What martial arts would I even have time to learn in the meantime?”

It’s not like Hwa-rin will be in that state for a month or a year. Once she completes her Poison Pellet, we’re going back to Daseogak. What training can I fit in that window?

“......”

“Pavilion Head?”

Why’s he looking at me like that, all sentimental? Is he pitying me for walking away from it all? Like a grandfather who wants his grandson to eat one more warm meal before leaving for war? I told you, I’m fine.

“Ahem. If you end up dying out there, no matter how much you want to distance yourself from the Tang Clan, they’ll have to step in. If you want to avoid that, just think of it as learning a bit of self-defense.”

But I’ll have Hwa-rin with me—why would I need to worry about dying? I want to say it doesn’t matter, but with the bastard-son-of-Tang persona I’ve built, it’s not easy to flatly refuse.

“Well, yeah. Someone did try to separate my neck from my body while I was alone.”

I nodded in agreement. It’s hard to completely ignore the Pavilion Head’s persistent concern.

“Ha! A single night’s sleep and already your mouth is the first to recover its strength. Worrying over that girl won’t change anything. Train in martial arts and get some sleep, so you can welcome her back with a healthy face. Vice Pavilion Head!”

“Hehehe. I’ve been waiting.”

“Dang-pae?”

At the Pavilion Head’s call, Dang-pae appeared from somewhere with a suspicious smile.

This guy. So he ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ didn’t get fired after all, huh?

“Thank you for continuing to give me chances to redeem myself, Pavilion Head...”

Dang-pae looked at me with a gaze full of emotion. Don’t tell me he’s going to teach me martial arts?

“Dang-pae. No, Vice Pavilion Head Dang-pae. I already apologized, but let me say it again...”

“Sir Kang. As I said—I understand.”

“Ah. Then...”

“Love is important, yes. More than some clan successor position, your partner is what matters. Still, couldn’t you have said at least one word to a loyal subordinate? Do you know how much I’ve suffered?”

I’m sorry. Really, I’m sorry. Dang-pae holds a grudge deeper than I expected.

“Dang-pae!”

The Pavilion Head barked, cutting off his emotional outburst.

“Gah! I’m sorry! Pavilion Head! Please, have mercy! I will always be loyal! Loyal! Loyal! Loyal!”

“Cut the nonsense and just do what I told you!”

“Yes, sir! I am forever your loyal servant, Pavilion Head! Dang-pae, at your command! Loyal! Loyal! Loyal!”

Dang-pae practically looked ready to lick the Pavilion Head’s shoes. Is this how someone who backed the wrong faction makes his comeback? I should probably take notes.

“I’ll be off, then. Learn well.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Haha. I know you put in a good word for me with the Pavilion Head, Sir Kang. I know I acted shamefully. I admit I was petty and still have a bit of a grudge, but I understand everything—rationally and emotionally. So don’t worry.”

Sorry, but if you could get rid of the grudge entirely, that’d be great. Dang-pae looked remorseful and kept bowing his head at me.

“I understand.”

I’m sorry too, so I’ll leave it at that.

“There’s not much time to train, so I’ll teach you the basics of the Tang Clan’s throwing knife techniques.”

Dang-pae, as if nothing had happened, earnestly began explaining the basics. Maybe he’s taught many people before, given his rank.

“When two opponents of unequal skill cross swords, one of them will inevitably bleed. But with throwing knives, even against a stronger opponent, the worst you lose is a single knife. In a crisis, don’t hesitate to throw.”

Dang-pae’s beginner lecture wasn’t top-tier online masterclass material, but it was solid enough to live off.

“There’s a scarecrow over there. Imagine you have a throwing knife hidden in your sleeve and try to hit that scarecrow. I’ll demonstrate the most efficient throwing forms. Please pay close attention.”

“I’m watching closely.”

After confirming my focus, Dang-pae stepped into the designated throwing range and began preparing to throw toward the distant scarecrow. With a shout, he began to unleash a series of throws.

“Die, you traitor! I trusted you!”

“Wait, what...?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Emotionally and logically, he said he understood.

“Now then. Observe. When throwing hidden weapons, one must always remain cool-headed. Success or failure depends entirely on the delicate sensitivity at your fingertips. If you get riled up like I did just now, you’ll miss!”

Funny way to put it—especially since he just landed hits on the head, groin, heart, and neck. Even a hero with seven lives would’ve died four times over from those strikes.

“You haven’t learned the Tang Clan’s inner power cultivation, so you won’t be able to learn the higher forms of Tang martial arts. But if you master the correct angle, the proper strength, and the right moment of release, you’ll still be able to learn hidden weaponry effective enough for self-defense. Here, take this throwing blade and try it.”

“Thank you.”

“Try a few throws first. If you seem to be getting the hang of it, I’ll teach you how to use qi as well. Even without the Tang Clan’s inner methods, just learning how to control your qi will make basic hidden weapon techniques nearly indistinguishable.”

I took the throwing blade from Dang-pae and stepped into the throwing path where the scarecrow was visible. It reminded me of grenade practice during training.

Seeing that I looked a little stiff, Dang-pae kept talking.

“No need to tense up. Just aim at the center and execute the series of movements as one smooth flow, just like we practiced. At this stage, simply hitting somewhere in the scarecrow’s direction would be a miracle. So don’t stress too much.”

Easy for you to say.

Place the target at the center and flow through one seamless motion... sounds like lining it up and flipping the switch.

“Let’s give it a try.”

Thwack! With a crisp sound, the throwing blade embedded itself in the scarecrow’s head.

Oh! Did I just nail it on the first try? Encouraged, I threw the remaining two blades one after another. Both hit the intended target squarely.

Hey, not bad at all.

Clap, clap, clap!

Applause erupted from behind me.

Was that the Pavilion unit? I turned around to see the Pavilion warriors along with a few unfamiliar faces watching the training hall.

“Amazing.”

“No way? He’s doing that without even using inner power?”

“He really is the Tang Clan Leader’s son.”

“He must have inherited that Tang bloodline deep in his bones. Hitting that target repeatedly from that distance...”

Nah. I’ve thrown my fair share of rocks fighting punks around the backstreets of Zhongyuan.

Besides, the internal cultivation I have been practicing is the advanced-level Soyoon Mental Resonance Technique. My physical abilities are way above average right now.

I bowed my head sheepishly in response to the distant praise and turned to look at Dang-pae, whose face was frozen in shock.

“As expected from the Tang Clan Leader’s heir. I thought just hitting the scarecrow once would be impressive, but since you’re doing that much, I’ll show you how to do double strikes in succession.”

Perhaps moved by something, Dang-pae beamed as he started explaining the next technique.

Hidden weapons, huh? As self-defense, this is actually way more useful than I expected.

----------

While waiting for news of Hwa-rin, I spent the next few days buried in training.

In baseball terms, I learned how to throw basic fastballs and simple breaking balls—just the fundamentals. But even those were Tang Clan’s signature hidden weapon techniques, so I figured they’d be plenty useful in a real fight.

“Hwa-rin. Wake up soon.”

Come on, Hwa-rin. You need to wake up healthy so we can go back to Yichang.

They say the crisis has passed, but from where I’m sitting, it feels like waiting outside the operating room for a critical patient.

And if things take too long, there’s always the chance of an unexpected complication.

“Sir Kang, are you there?”

Just as I was sitting by the window, brooding and gazing in the direction of Hwa-rin’s room, a familiar Tang Clan expert approached me.

“What is it?”

Not exactly morning—what would he want at this hour?

“Sir Kang, the Clan Leader is requesting your presence in private.”