I Became an Evolving Lizard in a Martial Arts Novel-Chapter 230

The head of the Sichuan Tang Clan, Tang Seong-ik, had fallen ill with an inexplicable disease, and tensions between the radical and moderate factions had escalated further.

In the Tang Clan, affiliations were not determined by direct or collateral bloodlines but rather by ideological leanings. This had led to a situation where members were poisoning each other even within the same family, an unprecedented crisis.

The moderates suspected the radicals of orchestrating the patriarch’s illness, but it was just speculation. After all, Tang Seong-ik, known to have reached the pinnacle of poison immunity (Mandok Bulchim), would be impervious to such methods.

The only plausible explanation would be the involvement of a third party, but no one could fathom who it might be. The Tang Clan was notoriously insular—who could have been brought in?

This suspicion gnawed at the moderates, while the radicals, naturally more aggressive, continued to gain ground.

Time was running out for the moderates.

With their patriarch incapacitated, their influence was inevitably waning.

This wasn’t just within the Tang Clan; the situation extended to their external standing as well.

Due to the nature of the Tang Clan, they had accumulated a vast number of enemies over the years. While their reputation of repaying kindness twofold and vengeance tenfold made retaliation against them nearly unthinkable, the patriarch’s incapacitation changed the equation.

Some opportunists believed they now had a chance.

But such challengers, of course, coughed up blood and died before making any real moves.

Even in decline, the Tang Clan was still the Tang Clan—their poisons remained potent.

Yet the mere fact that there were those daring enough to consider defying the Tang Clan was a problem.

While they hadn’t publicly acknowledged the patriarch’s condition, it had become an open secret.

This gave momentum to the radicals’ arguments.

“Our patriarch has fallen, and even lowly rogues now dare to look down on us. This cannot stand,” they claimed.

Their solution? The use of spiritual beasts.

Of course, their version of "use" meant employing methods unique to the Tang Clan.

Tang Mu-yeong, the young head of the Tang Clan and acting patriarch, sighed softly.

The situation was grim.

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As the acting patriarch, he was both capable and powerful, having reached the Super Peak. While he wasn’t quite on par with his father, his strength was undeniable.

Yet even so, things were not going his way.

The radicals continued their schemes, steadily eroding the moderates' influence.

On top of his father’s illness, his younger sister—practically a family treasure—had gone missing.

She had left a note saying she was heading off to find a rare elixir and vanished.

At first, they thought she was merely venturing into the nearby mountains. After all, her eccentric escapades were nothing new.

Moreover, she had taken Dalopo, the Tang Clan's spiritual beast, with her, so they hadn’t worried much.

But then they learned she had gone to the Ten Thousand Great Mountains.

It was the radicals’ doing.

The radicals had sent her on a false mission to the mountains, forging a letter to deceive the moderates.

Now, with the patriarch incapacitated and the youngest daughter missing, the Tang Clan faced an unprecedented crisis.

Even Dalopo, though young, had been training in the clan’s secret technique, Mancheon Hwa-u (Ten Thousand Blossoms and Rain). And Du-ul-li, a green spiritual beast known for its mysterious mastery of Hogong Seopmul (Weightless Object Manipulation), was also missing.

Tang Mu-yeong decided he could delay no longer.

Despite the radicals' increasingly suspicious behavior, he couldn’t act recklessly. After all, this was a family matter.

Everyone in the clan shared the same blood.

If he had concrete evidence, he would have cut ties without hesitation, family or not. But in a clan like the Tang Clan, leaving evidence behind was unheard of.

Still, he couldn’t afford to hesitate any longer.

With that resolve, he opened the doors to Tangmun-gak, the clan's council hall, to confront the elders.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting, but—”

He began to speak but froze mid-sentence.

The stench of blood filled the hall.

The radical faction’s elders lay scattered on the floor, their bodies in grotesque disarray.

“This... What is this...?!”

And standing amidst the carnage was a single woman, her cold gaze fixed on the scene.

When Tang Mu-yeong saw her face, his vision swam.

Silky black hair, porcelain-white skin without a single blemish.

Her delicate features seemed almost too small for her face, yet their harmony was perfect.

Each detail was flawless—not one part lacking, not one part excessive.

Even when viewed individually, each feature was enough to call her a peerless beauty. Together, they created a visage so radiant it seemed the moon itself might hide behind the clouds in shame.

The only flaw, if one could call it that, was her emotionless blue eyes.

They were so devoid of feeling that one might lament never seeing her smile.

Tang Mu-yeong, stunned by the surreal sight, quickly shook himself out of his daze.

This was no time to be captivated by her appearance.

The reality before him was clear: an outsider had killed the clan’s elders.

“You... You’re—!”

He tried to shout, but no sound came out.

Her emotionless eyes locked onto his, freezing him in place.

“You’re perceptive. If you had screamed, it would’ve been troublesome.”

Tang Mu-yeong’s heart pounded furiously.

He immediately recognized the feeling gripping his body: primal fear.

How could he, who had reached the Super Peak, feel such terror?

Tang Mu-yeong’s poisons were so deadly that even a Hwagyeong master hesitated to face him. Yet this woman was different.

Here she stood, at the very heart of the Tang Clan, having slain their elders without so much as a flicker of unease.

It wasn’t hard for Tang Mu-yeong to realize she was a Hyeongyeong master.

But she wasn’t someone from the orthodox sects—they would never launch such an attack.

Nor did she seem to belong to the unorthodox sects; no one in their ranks would commit such a brazen act by invading the Tang Clan’s stronghold.

Who, then, was this woman?

Black hair.

Blue eyes.

An aura of ruthless cruelty.

Tang Mu-yeong knew who she was.

“Ma... Ma...”

The leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult, Baek Yeon-yeong.

He felt as though he should scream something like “Ai-yeei!”, but he knew that if he so much as uttered a word, he’d likely end up in the same state as the elders lying on the floor.

However, he couldn’t just outright call her the Leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult (Ma Gyoju).

The thought alone made him feel as though he’d soon have the opportunity to personally examine the structure of his own spine.

“I was simply strolling through the village, and... what is the meaning of this?”

His voice came out as a low mutter, as if to convey: I have nothing to do with these people, nor do I know that you’re the leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult.

He was desperately hoping this was all some sort of dream—or perhaps that the radicals had used hallucinogenic poison on him. But no signs of such toxins were apparent.

Still, the reality of the scene was too bizarre to accept.

Why was the leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult, who was supposed to be deep in the Ten Thousand Great Mountains, here of all places?

If it had been any other member of the cult, he might have cursed under his breath and tried to make sense of it. After all, the radicals had once lost a jar of their Solitary Poison, which hinted at some connection with the cult.

But for Baek Yeon-yeong to personally appear? That was unfathomable.

Masters of Hyeon-gyeong rarely moved. Their mere existence was a deterrent, a strategic force so overwhelming that they needed no action to impose their will. Should a Hyeon-gyeong master take action, another master of the same rank would inevitably have to move in response.

And this wasn’t just any Hyeon-gyeong master—this was the Leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult, rumored to be at the late stage of Hyeon-gyeong. If word spread that she was on the move, at least three other Hyeon-gyeong masters would mobilize to counter her.

Surely, she knew this. That was why she’d never left the Ten Thousand Great Mountains—until now.

So why, of all places, had she come to the Tang Clan?

It wasn’t like the Tang Clan was a symbolic location such as Shaolin or Wudang. Why here?

Tang Mu-yeong’s thoughts spiraled as he was forced to consider one terrible possibility:

What if the Tang Clan had somehow touched her reverse scale?

Even if he didn’t know what they might have done, the idea that something had driven her to act personally made his legs weak and sweat pour from his body.

Standing before him was a being so powerful that even if every martial artist in the Tang Clan banded together, they wouldn’t leave so much as a scratch on her.

“The acting head of the Tang Clan, I presume?”

Her voice was devoid of interest, as if she found him beneath her concern. She casually returned to what she was doing.

Crunch.

She gripped one of the elder’s necks.

Squish!

With a gruesome sound, she yanked it clean off.

Tang Mu-yeong didn’t even have time to react, nor would his intervention have made any difference.

“Wh-what is this madness?!”

Tang Mu-yeong, trembling, braced himself for death and shouted in desperation.

The rumors about the leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult’s cruelty were well known. But what he witnessed now far exceeded anything he’d imagined.

She reached into the neck of the incapacitated elder and pulled something out—something squirming.

For a moment, Tang Mu-yeong doubted his eyes.

On Baek Yeon-yeong’s palm wriggled a living insect.

“Go. I thought this technique had been lost to time, yet here it is, being cultivated as if it were nothing.”

“Did you just say... Go?” he stammered.

“Yes, Go,” she replied.

Rumors had circulated that the radicals were secretly researching forbidden techniques, but Tang Mu-yeong had assumed it would stop at mere experimentation.

After all, Go was a technique thought to be lost long ago.

And yet, Go.

Not just Go, but Go thriving inside the elders' bodies?

What on earth was going on?

“If I had my way, I’d erase the entire Tang Clan from the map,” Baek Yeon-yeong muttered.

Tang Mu-yeong swallowed hard.

Here was an opponent he couldn’t possibly defeat, casually declaring his demise as though it were a simple afterthought.

And yet, he knew she wasn’t bluffing.

But at the same time, her phrasing gave him a glimmer of hope. If I had my way—she hadn’t outright declared the destruction of the Tang Clan, which meant she was holding back.

Moreover, the fact that she was extracting the Go from the elders' bodies suggested that her anger was related to Go.

Tang Mu-yeong took a deep breath and did the only thing he could.

“Go! How dare you use forbidden sorcery!” he shouted, grabbing an elder by the collar, even though the man was barely clinging to life.

Feigning outrage, he quickly turned and bowed deeply to Baek Yeon-yeong.

“As the acting patriarch of the Sichuan Tang Clan, I humbly apologize. I was unaware that the elders of my clan were cultivating Go. It is my failure as a leader. I will fully cooperate with you to rectify this and will consider it a lifelong debt if you temper your anger.”

I didn’t know.

This was all their doing.

I have nothing to do with this, but if you want, I’ll find whoever’s responsible.

Just spare me this once.

I’ll give you poison, money, information—whatever you want. Just let me live.

He conveyed all this with the utmost humility, carefully watching her reaction.

Baek Yeon-yeong ignored him entirely, focusing instead on collecting the Go.

As if she had a specific purpose in mind, she carefully placed the extracted Go into a prepared wooden box.

The Heavenly Demon Cult now possesses Tang Clan's Go!

If word of this ever got out, Tang Mu-yeong himself would become a public enemy of the martial arts world.

But worrying about that was almost laughable.

The greater concern was that his head might not remain attached to his shoulders much longer.

Baek Yeon-yeong finally spoke, her voice as emotionless as ever.

“Consider yourself fortunate. By chance, I share a connection with a child of the Tang Clan, so I won’t engage in unnecessary slaughter.”

Tang Mu-yeong let out a long sigh of relief.

At least his life was spared—for now.

But he couldn’t afford to relax just yet.

Baek Yeon-yeong began asking him questions, providing instructions he had no choice but to follow.

She inquired about the uses of Go, and even posed odd questions like who would take over as acting leader if the head of the Wudang Sect were to die unexpectedly.

It was deeply suspicious, but he had no other options.

Casting aside the dignity of the acting patriarch, Tang Mu-yeong answered her questions with sincerity and humility.

“How commendable.”

Tang Mu-yeong blinked, doubting his ears.

Had he just been complimented by the leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult?

Sure, he thought his answers had been good, but to be praised by her? Could this incident actually forge a connection with the cult?

It was a reckless, borderline treasonous thought, but with his father incapacitated and the elders dead, Tang Mu-yeong was desperate for any lifeline.

Even if that lifeline had just murdered those same elders.

His fleeting hope, however, was quickly dashed.

Baek Yeon-yeong wasn’t addressing him—she was muttering to herself.

“If only he had spoken up sooner. He stayed silent to avoid implicating me... how commendable and infuriating.”

She stared at her left hand.

“What does he think he can achieve with such a small body?”

Tang Mu-yeong felt as though he were dreaming.

The entire sequence of events—from the leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult storming in and killing the elders, to pulling Go from their bodies—was surreal enough.

But then something even more unbelievable happened.

The leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult... was smiling.

Ever so slightly, but undeniably, she was smiling.

And she wasn’t even looking at him. Her gaze was fixed on a ring on the fourth finger of her left hand.