The great chamber stretched into darkness where stone pillars rose like giants holding up the weight of the mountain itself. In the center of it all lay the Poison Dragon with its massive body coiled upon itself like a sleeping serpent and scales of deep emerald gleamed even in the dim light. Each breath it took sent wisps of purple mist curling through the air and the mist carried the sweet scent of death that would kill any ordinary man in moments.
But the man walking into the chamber was no ordinary man.
"Master," Tang Myeongchul called out, his voice echoed against the stone walls.
The dragon's eyes opened slowly, they glowed like twin moons in the darkness while golden irises fixed upon the human who dared disturb its rest.
"Myeongchul," the dragon's voice rumbled, it spoke without moving its mouth as the words simply appeared in the air between them. "You come at a strange hour."
Tang Myeongchul bowed deeply, he wore robes of deep green and gold with the crest of the Tang Clan embroidered on his chest showing a coiling dragon wrapped around a poison flower. How fitting those symbols seemed now.
"I come with urgent news, Master."
The dragon lifted its head, its neck stretched impossibly long as it brought its face closer to the human while those golden eyes studied him carefully.
"Speak then."
But Myeongchul did not speak, he simply stood there with his head bowed.
The dragon's mind drifted back and it remembered a different time with a different Myeongchul.
Centuries ago, the Poison Dragon had claimed a valley deep in the mountains where it cultivated the Thousand Poison Garden. Plants that could kill with a touch grew alongside, flowers that granted immortality while herbs that cured any disease bloomed next to vines that induced madness with their scent.
The dragon tended them all with care because each plant was a treasure and each flower a masterpiece of nature's cruelty and beauty combined.
One day, a young man stumbled into the valley and the dragon prepared to kill him as it killed all trespassers but something made it pause.
The young man did not rush forward to steal the herbs and he did not pluck the precious flowers with greedy hands. Instead he knelt beside a patch of common weeds growing at the garden's edge.
"Poor things," the young man whispered. "Growing in the shadow of such magnificent plants and no one even sees you."
He gently pulled the weeds free but he did not throw them away and instead laid them carefully to the side. His movements were slow and deliberate as he treated even these worthless plants with respect.
The dragon watched from the shadows and it had never seen a human behave this way. Most who sought the garden's treasures would crush a thousand weeds without a second thought or burn entire forests to reach a single valuable herb.
But this young man named Myeongchul was different.
The dragon revealed itself that day and Myeongchul fell to his knees in terror while he expected to die. Instead the dragon spoke.
"You may tend my garden."
Myeongchul looked up with wide eyes and said "I... I am not worthy, great one."
"Few are," the dragon agreed. "But you understand what others do not, because a garden is not just its rarest flowers. Every plant has its place and every weed its purpose."
From that day forward Myeongchul came to the valley and he was a simple herb vendor then who sold common medicines in the villages below the mountain. He barely earned enough to feed himself.
But in the Thousand Poison Garden he found purpose and he learned the names of every plant while understanding their properties. The dragon taught him secrets that no other human knew.
"You may take herbs from my garden," the dragon told him one day. "But you must ask first and show me that you understand their value."
Myeongchul always asked and he never took more than he needed while never damaging the plants in his harvesting. The dragon watched him grow from a simple vendor into a true master of the healing arts.
The herbs Myeongchul took began to earn him a reputation because his medicines were more powerful than any others. Warriors sought him out to cure poisons and sect leaders paid fortunes for his remedies.
Money came and then followers arrived before students appeared who wanted to learn his secrets.
The Tang Clan was born from that humble beginning and Myeongchul became Tang Myeongchul, the sect leader of the most powerful poison arts clan in all the murim.
But he never forgot the dragon and he visited often while still tending the garden with gentle hands. The dragon was pleased because it had chosen well in making this human its friend.
Or so it believed.
The memory faded and the dragon's eyes refocused on the present, on the Myeongchul who stood before it now with his head still bowed.
"Why do you not speak?" the dragon asked.
That was when the dragon heard them and footsteps echoed through the tunnels, dozens of them leading to its chamber.
The dragon's eyes narrowed as it asked "What have you done?"
Martial artists poured into the chamber and they wore the colors of a dozen different sects. Orthodox sects and righteous sects who called themselves the protectors of the murim.
And at the front stood ten figures who made even the dragon pause because they were the Top Ten Martial Masters of the Murim Alliance. Each one was a legend in their own right and together they had never been defeated.
"Myeongchul," the dragon's voice shook the chamber while purple mist exploded from its scales. "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?"
Tang Myeongchul finally raised his head and his face was calm, too calm. There was no fear there and no regret either.
"Master," he said quietly. "You have lived too long and your power has grown too great. The Murim Alliance has decreed that you are a threat to the peace of our world."
"I have harmed no one!" The dragon's roar cracked stone and it continued "I tend my garden and I live in solitude so what threat do I pose?"
"Your core," one of the Top Ten Masters spoke and he was an old man with a white beard. "A divine beast's core contains power beyond measure and with it we could protect the murim from the demonic sects. We could bring true peace."
The dragon understood then because it was not about threat but about greed. The same greed it had seen in countless humans before and the same greed it thought Myeongchul did not possess.
"So you bring an army to murder me for my core?" The dragon's voice was cold now and it was cold as death itself. "You betray centuries of friendship for power?"
"For peace," Myeongchul corrected and his voice remained steady. "The demonic sects grow stronger every day, without your core we cannot match them. Sacrificing one life to save thousands... that is the righteous path."
"Righteous," the dragon repeated. "How righteous you have become, Tang Myeongchul. How far you have risen from the gentle boy who mourned for weeds."
The poison mist grew thicker and it filled the chamber until visibility dropped to nothing. The martial artists coughed and stumbled but they had come prepared because pills made from the dragon's own herbs protected them from the poison.
How fitting that the dragon's own gifts were turned against it.
"Attack!" Myeongchul's voice cut through the mist.
They came at the dragon from all sides with hundreds of warriors carrying swords and spears. The dragon's claws tore through them like paper and its tail swept dozens away with each swing but there were too many. For every one that fell three more took their place.
The Top Ten Masters moved like ghosts through the chaos and their swords found gaps in the dragon's scales. Each strike drew divine blood and each wound weakened the ancient beast.
The battle raged for hours and the chamber floor became slick with blood both human and divine. Bodies piled high but still they came and still they attacked.
Finally the dragon's movements grew slow because it had too many wounds and too much blood lost. It crashed to the ground and the entire mountain shook.
The Top Ten Masters surrounded it and their swords rose as one.
"Wait," the dragon gasped and it looked at Myeongchul who stood at the chamber's edge. "Look at me and look at what you have done."
Myeongchul met the dragon's gaze and there was sadness in his eyes now but also determination. He believed his choice was right and he believed this sacrifice was necessary.
"I am sorry, Master. But this is for the greater good."
"Greater good," the dragon whispered. "There is no greater good in betrayal."
The ten swords fell as one and they pierced the dragon's body before burying themselves deep. The dragon's divine core shattered under the assault.
As its life faded the dragon saw Myeongchul smile with a small smile of satisfaction. He stood with the other Masters and they smiled too because they had won and they had obtained the power they sought.
In that final moment something changed in the dragon's dying eyes and the sadness vanished. It was replaced by something darker and something ancient and terrible.
The dragon's last breath carried words that froze the blood of everyone present.
"I curse you all and I curse your righteous murim. I curse your precious peace because you have slain a guardian this day. You have murdered one who never wished you harm and for this betrayal..."
The dragon's body began to dissolve into purple mist and the mist swirled and concentrated. It formed symbols in the air that were ancient symbols of power and binding.
"I vow upon my dying breath and upon my shattered core. Upon every herb in my garden and every drop of poison in my veins..."
The symbols burned brighter and they seared themselves into the walls. Into the floor and into the very mountain itself.
"The murim shall fall with every sect and every clan. Every master who calls themselves righteous and I will return. And when I do..."
The dragon's body vanished completely and only the voice remained. It echoed through the chamber and beyond as it traveled through the tunnels. Through the mountain and through the valleys before crossing the entire murim.
"I will bring annihilation."