The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel-Chapter 157: Inevitability - 1

If the opponent is fully prepared—avoid the fight.

That’s something martial artists always remember when facing enemies who wield poison and throwing weapons. If such an opponent has completed their preparations and even gained distance, the cost of winning will be immense.

That’s why Tang Geo-ho and the black-clad men sent bandits ahead of time—to force the Vice Pavilion’s forces to expend their stockpile of poison and throwing weapons.

Though the Vice Pavilion had now completed their battle preparations and the black-clad enemies were glaring at them, they couldn’t move recklessly, knowing their poisoned weapons and throwing arms were depleted.

“For all their shouting, they’re cowards.”

They were always all talk. Cowards who can’t do great things for fear of the insects watching them. Tang Geo-ho sneered at the unmoving Vice Pavilion, seeing their hesitation as fear from running out of weapons.

“We’re ready too.”

One of the black-clad men spoke to Tang Geo-ho.

“If they’re offering the first move, who are we to decline?”

When Tang Geo-ho nodded, the front line of black-clad warriors lunged toward the Vice Pavilion.

Even as they charged, no throwing weapons flew their way.

While the vanguard had trained in external martial arts, making them resistant to most projectiles, the complete lack of response made them even more certain of their victory.

As expected—their plan had worked. Once they broke into the center of the Vice Pavilion’s formation and disrupted it, the second line would come in to clean up.

The gap between the black-clad warriors and the Vice Pavilion was down to about ten steps. They were convinced of their win.

“All units. Fire.”

Until the low voice of the Vice Pavilion Head rang out.

“Gah!”

“Argh!”

The blossoms of throwing weapons bloomed. A black flowerbed filled with countless blades, and those struck down by the bloom collapsed after just a few steps.

The black-clad warriors had assumed the Vice Pavilion had exhausted their ammunition. In truth, it was a calculated tactic—the Vice Pavilion had merely waited until they were in the effective kill zone to conserve resources.

“Tch! Break through!”

“The left is thin!”

The survivors of the first wave charged into the left flank of the Vice Pavilion, where the hail of projectiles had been thinner.

The Vice Pavilion Head saw a few of his men cut down but remained calm, turning his gaze toward the approaching second line of the enemy—trusting those he had prepared for close combat to handle the rest.

“Lay down the Poison Spikes! Clean up the first wave before the second reaches us!”

“Loyalty!”

The Vice Pavilion members pulled out caltrops coated with poison—tools too dangerous for chaotic brawls like the earlier fight with bandits—and scattered them across the field.

“Aaagh! My foot!”

The second wave of black-clad warriors halted as the poison caltrops tore through their feet, and in that moment, the Vice Pavilion swiftly eliminated the black-clad survivors who had broken through.

“We can’t let the first line be wiped out like this! I’ll release the venom mist!”

One black-clad warrior with purple hair visible beneath his mask turned urgently to Tang Geo-ho.

“Do as you please.”

“Second line, fall back! The wind’s blowing toward the Vice Pavilion—release the poison fog!”

The black-clad warriors with the purple hair dashed forward, releasing a strange smoke.

“We must eliminate those Tang traitors before the poison fog reaches us!”

The Vice Pavilion Head shouted as the mist began to spread.

“It’s too dangerous to charge through that!”

To eliminate the traitors spreading poison fog, the Vice Pavilion would have to brave both enemy attacks °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° and the risk of poisoning.

“Tch!”

They were in a defensive formation. Sending men into the mist to stop the betrayal was as good as ordering them to die. The Vice Pavilion Head bit back a troubled groan as he stared at the traitors.

And then—

“Ack!”

A throwing weapon pierced the throat of one of the purple-haired traitors who had let his guard down.

“Wh-what?! Someone’s walking through the poison fog?!”

The black-clad man shouted, shocked to see a figure calmly moving through the poisonous haze—someone no Tang Clan member should be able to survive.

“Poison doesn’t work on me.”

Emerging from the fog was none other than Tang Hwa-rin.

“It’s a Poisoned One! A Poisoned One appeared from the mist!”

“Tang Hwa-rin! Capture her!”

“Not everyone here is from the Tang Clan. How do you expect us to catch someone hiding in a poison fog?”

“Help me!”

Unfazed by their panic, Tang Hwa-rin moved through the toxic mist, eliminating the traitors one by one, before returning to her own formation.

“I’m back.”

“Hwa-rin, are you okay?”

“Hehe... were you worried?”

The Vice Pavilion Head watched the tender exchange between the two with a baffled expression, then turned his attention back to the black-clad enemies.

Thankfully, the poison fog hadn’t spread further and now formed a river-like barrier between the two forces. Their throwing weapons were nearly depleted. If they were going to use what little poison and projectiles remained, they’d have to brace for a brawl.

“Prepare yourselves!”

How much blood of the Tang Clan would be spilled today? The Vice Pavilion Head pulled a melee weapon from his robes and prayed it wouldn’t be too much.

“Tch...”

So they could push this hard. Tang Geo-ho stared at the Vice Pavilion with a disturbed expression. After a tense standoff, the fog finally began to lift.

Beyond the fading mist, he could see their empty projectile cases.

“Now. Charge!”

With all obstacles cleared, the black-clad warriors surged forward.

-------

As the Vice Pavilion Head had predicted, it turned into a chaotic melee.

When the black-clad warriors broke into their ranks, casualties began to pile up everywhere.

While Tang Clan warriors weren’t helpless in close combat, the Vice Pavilion was primarily the medical division—many of their martial artists lacked expertise in brawls.

Of course, there were some who were terrifyingly good in close range.

“I’ll deal with you all myself!”

The Vice Pavilion Head’s golden whip sent black-clad men flying with a single strike.

“Is that the Golden Dragon Whip?! Why is such a Tang Clan treasure here?!”

The golden whip the Vice Pavilion Head wielded was made from the hide of a rare spiritual beast. Its handle had scaled flesh growing along it like a dragon’s.

It was a whip that could only be used after mastering the martial art known as Golden Dragon Whip Technique—a technique perfect for chaotic battles.

“Kraaagh!”

Each swing of the whip tore chunks of flesh from the black-clad enemies.

“Golden Dragon Whip Technique?! No one said the Vice Pavilion Head had mastered that!”

“Step aside! I’ll handle the whip!”

Pushing aside his struggling subordinates, Tang Geo-ho stepped forward and faced the Vice Pavilion Head.

“You bastard! I’ll take your head and present it to the clan as penance!”

The golden whip flew toward Tang Geo-ho in an unpredictable arc.

“Ha! Just die here. I will go down in history as the man who created the Poisoned Ones!”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Tang Geo-ho lightly deflected the incoming whip with his bare hand.

“He blocked the Golden Dragon Whip? That hand... those black splotches... You! How did you master the lost Ninefold Jade Venom Palm?”

Tang Geo-ho’s hand was covered in splotches, reminiscent of Tang Hwa-rin’s poisoned skin.

Ninefold Jade Venom Palm—a deadly poison martial art said to infect the victim with one of fifteen poisons upon the slightest touch. It had vanished two decades ago when the Tang Clan purged the Poisoned Ones faction.

“If I could resurrect the Poisoned Ones, mastering this was nothing.”

“So you didn’t just experiment on your bastard children...”

“Hah! Whether the body becomes a sack of poison or just the hand, what difference does it make? I was curious, so I gave it a try!”

“You bastard!”

“Just die already!”

The moment Tang Geo-ho realized the Golden Dragon Whip posed no threat to him, he charged at the Vice Pavilion Head.

As Tang Geo-ho unleashed the Ninefold Jade Venom Palm at close range, the Vice Pavilion Head reached out to block it. A foolish decision—if even grazed, not even the great Vice Pavilion Head would survive.

Tang Geo-ho grinned, aiming directly for the hand.

But the Vice Pavilion Head didn’t bleed.

Instead, a blazing wave of intense positive energy surged into Tang Geo-ho’s arm.

“Th-Three Yang Divine Palm?!”

Tang Geo-ho recoiled, clutching his burning hand.

“Sharp eyes.”

“Why... why does someone like the Vice Pavilion Head know a secret technique reserved for the Tang Clan’s direct bloodline...?”

The Yang energy that burned poison. A martial art passed down through the Tang Clan’s core lineage to rule over a family that dabbled in toxins. How did someone of the medical branch come to learn it?

“The Clan Head doesn’t care for bloodline or status.”

“Kghh...!”

Tang Geo-ho staggered.

The overwhelming Yang energy had invaded his body. Merely being struck by the Three Yang Divine Palm caused massive internal injury—but for someone who had trained in the Ninefold Jade Venom Palm, this kind of Yang energy was absolutely lethal.

This was bad.

Tang Geo-ho began to realize that things might not go according to plan.

********

Are we... winning?

I clamped the Antidote Orb between my teeth and observed from a safe spot—an ideal position honed by the CBRN training of a proud conscripted Korean soldier.

Victory seemed within reach.

The Poisoned One faction had been dealt with by Hwa-rin, and most of the black-clad attackers sent to cause chaos were already neutralized.

The Vice Pavilion had suffered losses and people were dying, but barring any surprises, this would end in our victory.

If not for those guys...

Even now, I glanced at the handful of black-clad warriors watching from afar, arms crossed.

If the ones being dealt with were extras in a tokusatsu show, those guys were the giant monster bosses that show up in the final three minutes.

It’d be great if they just had VIP seats and walked off after the show—but yeah, no chance.

“Ugh!”

Just then, Tang Geo-ho’s flesh was ripped from his body by the Vice Pavilion Head’s whip. All that martial arts bragging, and yet it seemed the Vice Pavilion Head had the upper hand.

Did he eat all the good medicine himself? Despite being the head of the medical division, he showed no signs of fatigue. Truly reassuring.

Tang Geo-ho now looked like he needed to scream, “How could the Three Yang Divine Palm burn the Ninefold Jade Venom Palm?!”

“I can’t just stand by and watch.”

And here we go.

One of the distant black-clad warriors darted in an instant and grabbed the Vice Pavilion Head’s whip, pouring some strange energy into it.

Startled, the Vice Pavilion Head let go of the whip and jumped back.

“That’s demonic energy?! Tang Geo-ho, you bastard! You’ve allied with the Demonic Sect?!”

A member of the Demonic Sect—figures. The situation just took a turn for the worse.

Tang Geo-ho, either shocked from being bested or from having the Demonic Sect exposed so suddenly, avoided the Vice Pavilion Head’s gaze.

“To dare speak of the Greatest Clan Under Heaven while groveling to the Demonic Sect!”

“I’ve done all I could. I’ll step in now.”

Ignoring the Vice Pavilion Head entirely, the black-clad man turned to Tang Geo-ho.

“...Spare half of them.”

---------

We’re screwed.

Once the black-clad elites joined in, it became a massacre. The Vice Pavilion Head and his men were swiftly overwhelmed.

The remaining survivors were herded into one spot. They dragged Hwa-rin to the front.

“Let go!”

Though Hwa-rin struggled, one of the black-clad warriors forced her to her knees, then stepped back.

Tang Geo-ho silently stared down at her before pulling out a small box from his robe.

“This is a Poison Pellet made from a Thousand-Year Centipede.”

A Poison Pellet from a thousand-year-old centipede? It reeked to high heaven.

“And? What’s your point?”

“Swallow it. Form the poison core in your body.”

“Screw that. Why the hell would I eat something that’ll kill me?”

Atta girl, Hwa-rin. Sure, they could force it into her mouth, but only she could form the poison core. Without her will, the process would fail.

“You refuse? Very well.”

Here we go again. Tang Geo-ho raised his sword and beheaded one of the wounded Vice Pavilion members.

“Are you insane?!”

“If you won’t swallow it, I’ll kill one member of the Tang Clan for every refusal. Now eat.”

He held the poison pellet out to her.

Hwa-rin’s eyes quivered. She pressed her lips together tightly and looked toward us.

No, Hwa-rin. Don’t.

“Tch. Why would I risk my life for people I barely know? No thanks.”

Good answer. Hwa-rin scoffed and rejected the offer like it was a bad joke.

She’s gotten so much better at acting. A true student of Master Kang Mo’s Drama School. If she could just stop her lips from trembling, she’d look completely indifferent.

“Fine. You make a good point. Then how about this?”

At his signal, one of the black-clad warriors dragged in a bound woman.

“Let go of me, you fuckers!”

The middle-aged woman screamed.

She had a voluptuous figure and a face that had clearly been beautiful in her youth, but time and bitterness had left her looking downright nasty.

She looked... familiar. Who was she?

I caught a glimpse of Hwa-rin’s face—frozen in shock. Ah... she resembled her.

“W-why the hell is that crazy bitch here?!”

The middle-aged woman was none other than Tang Hwa-rin’s mother.