After sending the waterspout drifting upstream, Heukjeom swam back toward me, fluttering as if asking for praise.

But I couldn’t immediately respond to his cuteness.

Normally, I’d have rushed over and petted him until he practically left his body from joy, but right now, I was staring in a daze at the waterspout moving slowly upstream.

The rising air currents from the spiraling vortex gently tugged at the hem of my robe, causing it to flutter.

—Thump! Thump!

That’s when it happened.

With Cheongwol’s heavy steps came a sudden darkening of the sky.

I snapped out of it when a familiar patterned shell blocked my vision—Cheongwol’s massive carapace stood protectively in front of me.

Then came his urgent voice in my ear.

—Grrr! 『Danger!』

Danger? What danger?

I tilted my head in confusion.

—Drip. Drip...

Water droplets began to fall from above.

Oh... The water got sucked up. So now it’s falling back down?

Only Cheongwol, for all his size, could notice something that subtle and react this delicately.

I smiled, thinking he was shielding me from the downpour.

That’s when a pebble clattered down through the air.

—Tock.

It hit a river rock and bounced with a spark.

And just like that, I understood what Cheongwol had meant by danger.

What happens to the stones that get sucked into a waterspout?

Everything that’s pulled up eventually comes back down. That’s how nature works.

Even in space, if there’s a black hole sucking things in, there’s bound to be a white hole spitting things out somewhere.

The waterspout had sucked up water and stones alike, and now they were falling from the sky—like hail.

—Thudududu!

—Thump! Crack!

Even though it was a relatively small waterspout, the stones falling with gravitational force shattered branches and dented the riverbank with explosive force. Some even ricocheted like shrapnel across the pebbled shore.

“Everyone take cover! No—over here!”

“Run! Take cover!”

“Run toward Master So-ryong!”

The Tang Clan warriors scrambled under trees or ducked beneath Cheongwol like sliding baseball players.

Geumdo, startled, quickly retracted his limbs into his shell—but he was a Bighead Turtle after all.

He couldn’t tuck his oversized head all the way in, so stones began bouncing off it one by one.

—Tock. Clack.

Pebbles pinged off Geumdo’s skull and shell with oddly cheerful clink sounds.

“The spirit beast is under attack!”

The warriors shouted in concern, but it wasn’t anything serious.

Bighead Turtles couldn’t retract their heads fully, true—but their heads and beak-like jaws were just as tough as their shells. The stones wouldn’t do real damage.

Still, every time a stone hit, Geumdo blinked and flinched, clearly rattled.

—Buuurrr.

And finally, Heukjeom—who had been splashing at the riverbank asking for affection—looked up at the hail of stones with a startled expression. The severity of the situation had dawned on him.

—Tzzzzrr?

“Heukjeom! Stop it—cut the waterspout!”

At my shout, Heukjeom immediately swam upstream, toward the spiraling vortex he had created.

He surged forward so fast he almost seemed to fly before plunging into the water.

The moment he disappeared below the surface, another whirlpool began to form.

But this one... was different.

Its direction.

Heukjeom must have started spinning the other way, because the new whirlpool had a reverse current.

Just like before, the new vortex twisted upward and turned into a waterspout. Slowly, it began drifting toward the first.

The two waterspouts curled and wound toward each other.

—Shwaaaaa.

And then, they collided—like two spinning tops crashing into each other.

Both lost their energy instantly and dissipated in a puff.

—Drip. Drop. Drip...

A moment later, the last of the water and stones that had been sucked up fell back down, and the riverbank went still.

I stepped out from under Cheongwol’s shadow, surveying the aftermath.

“Whoa...”

The trees had taken a beating from stone-sized hail, their leaves and branches broken and scattered. Even the deck of our barge had chunks of stone embedded in it.

—Tzzt...

Heukjeom, fully aware that he’d caused a major incident, floated at the riverbank looking utterly distraught.

I clicked my tongue, took a moment to look around, then approached him and gently said,

“It’s okay, Heukjeom. Just be careful when using that next time.”

—Tzzzz...

“You really are incredible, though.”

He was already tense and trembling. Scolding him now would probably crush his spirit, so I simply gave him a pat and praised him.

It reminded me of something from my past life—some wisdom from a friend who raised dogs.

Whenever their pup got into trouble, they’d say:

“You know what a dung-dog is?”

“Like a mutt? Some kind of stray?”

“No. A dung-dog is what you get when you keep hitting your dog for making mistakes. Eventually, it flinches at any raised hand. It stops protecting its owner or family because it’s too scared. That’s what makes a dog useless.”

I couldn’t let Heukjeom become a dung stingray, could I?

Come on. No one got hurt, and he was just trying to help.

Then came a familiar voice from the sky.

“So-ryong!”

I looked up and saw Hwa-eun descending, wrapped in Yeondu’s coils, wearing a thoroughly bewildered expression as she surveyed the scene.

“What on earth happened here? You said you were coming to collect the kids’ venom.”

“Ah. Right...”

Yeah. Originally, I came to say hi to the kids after a few busy days—but also to collect venom samples.

Grandfather Mandok Shingun had asked me to collect samples from our new spirit beast companions, to analyze their toxins.

“Well... I got a little distracted by their antics.”

When I replied sheepishly, Hwa-eun gave me a look of complete disbelief.

She crossed her arms like an interrogator and asked,

“And what kind of antics, exactly, made the riverbank look like this?”

“They, uh... dug a little. And... splashed water?”

“So. Ryong.”

She said my name slowly, each syllable like a judge delivering a sentence.

I flinched.

Man, I've really become So-ryong the Dumb Dog at this point.

And in that moment, I finally understood why mothers in my past life always said: “You have to encourage your husband and your kids. You’ve got to lift their spirits.”

I was feeling that truth—deeply.

***

After collecting venom from Geumdo and Heukjeom, I returned to the Tang Clan estate with several of the other children in tow. Our destination: Grandfather’s residence.

I had brought the children because while the venom of aquatic creatures needed to be harvested at the riverside, the others could provide theirs on-site—it’s always best fresh, after all.

“We’re here, Grandfather.”

“Come in.”

Hwa-eun sent word ahead when we arrived outside, and Grandfather’s voice came in reply—somewhat distracted.

We exchanged a look and stepped inside, only to see Grandfather hunched over a table, surrounded by various medicinal jars and deeply engrossed in something.

He didn’t even glance back, too absorbed in what he was doing.

He’d mentioned preparing tests to examine the new venoms, and it looked like that’s exactly what he was up to.

“Kids, be careful not to run around in Grandfather’s study, okay? You too, Sister Jeokwol.”

—Piii.

—Chiii.

—Kyuki.

Worried they might accidentally wreck something, I warned them all, then quietly approached Grandfather and set the collected venom on an empty spot at his table.

—Click.

“Oh? Is this it?”

Only then did Grandfather, the Mandok Shingun, turn to us with a smile.

“Yes, Grandfather.”

I had brought the venom in a bamboo sprayer, which now held Geumdo’s sleep venom.

Because his venom disperses like mist, I had used the sprayer to collect and seal it off at the top.

“This is the venom of the Thousand-Year Golden Turtle. Please handle it with care. As I mentioned before, it seems to cause drowsiness even through skin contact.”

Though non-lethal, Geumdo’s venom had strong narcotic properties that absorbed right through the skin. I reminded him again just to be safe, and Grandfather nodded seriously.

“I see. And the venom of the Black-Spotted Stingray of the White Moon?”

“Oh—this one.”

At his question, I pulled a tightly rolled leather bundle from my robes and laid it out before him.

“Here it is. The stingray venom is in this.”

“In... leather?”

He looked surprised that I had wrapped it that way.

As I unrolled it, I showed him what I had brought.

“Yes. It’s safe like this.”

“...Is that the stinger itself?”

Indeed—it was Heukjeom’s entire venomous spine, laid out on the leather strip.

“The barbs on a stingray’s tail sometimes fall out and regrow, you see.”

“Really?”

Just like fingernails or claws, the venomous spines of stingrays periodically shed and regenerate.

When I first asked Heukjeom for some venom, I’d also asked if he’d lost any spines recently—and to my surprise, he had pulled one out and offered it right there.

“You didn’t have to pull it out yourself, you know?”

—Tzzziii.

He even lowered his tail immediately after, showing that a new one had already started forming.

“Wait, so they grow back that quickly?”

—TZZZT!

“Does that mean if you sting someone, it breaks off and stays inside them? That’s... terrifying.”

When I’d said that, Heukjeom had twirled his tail dramatically and launched the stinger like a dart.

Stingray spines are normally close-range weapons—but being a spirit beast, it seemed he could project them at will.

While I was still thinking about that, Grandfather spoke again.

“What about the others?”

“Yes, of course.”

At his request, I called over Sandan, the orchid mantis currently nestled in Hwa-eun’s hair, and brought her to my shoulder.

“Sandan, come here. We just need a little venom.”

—Piii.

Her venom released as a fragrant mist from the flower-like gland on her back. I gently dabbed her stamen with a cotton-tipped bamboo stick and handed it to Grandfather.

Then I turned to Sister Jeokwol, who was perched on my other shoulder, and used a small tea spoon to collect her powdery droppings—infused with natural toxins—and deposited them into a small dish.

“Here you are, Grandfather.”

“Thank you, my boy.”

“Now, for the last one... Ranghyang, I think?”

I was about to extract venom from Ranghyang, the blind millipede spirit beast, when Grandfather suddenly raised a hand to stop me.

“No need for hers. Cyanide-based venom is common enough. There’s no need to go out of our way.”

Apparently, Ranghyang’s Qinghua Poison—essentially hydrogen cyanide—was already in abundant supply within the Tang Clan, just like the kind found in apple seeds or cassava.

That’s all he meant. A simple surplus issue.

But Ranghyang didn’t hear it that way.

She had been nervously preparing to contribute, and when she realized she wouldn’t be needed, her antennae drooped visibly.

—Kyuu... Kyuki...

Her disappointment was so obvious it hit me like a punch to the chest.

Poor girl already had confidence issues—and now this?

This is bad...

I knelt beside her and spoke gently.

“Ranghyang, no, that’s not what he meant. He just meant there’s already a lot at home right now, so we don’t need more at the moment. But your venom is very special—it can do things you’d never expect.”

—Kyuki?

She perked up, her antennae twitching in surprise.

“You can do all kinds of things with Qinghua Poison.”

“You can do what with it?”

“You can do what with it?”

Grandfather and Hwa-eun, both born and raised in a clan that worships venom, looked skeptical at the idea of cyanide doing anything new.

Their eyes glimmered with interest.

I was just about to explain when—

“Honored elder, Elder Geolhwang has arrived. He requests an audience with Master So-ryong.”

A clan warrior had appeared with a message: Elder Geolhwang had come to see me.

Has the gosoa dropped?

“You mean me?”

“Yes, sir. He said it concerns the Blood Cult, from the information delivered to Yeongcheon Command.”

So it wasn’t about collecting insect feed—it was about intel.

We quickly made our way to the reception hall, where Elder Geolhwang was already waiting with a warm smile.

“You’ve come?”

“Indeed. Good to see you, Mandok Shingun.”

“Welcome, Elder.”

“Hello, Elder Geolhwang.”

“Have you been well? Seems like your crew has grown again.”

He blinked at the pack of venomous companions trailing behind me.

“Yes, they’ve multiplied a bit.”

I smiled, then took a seat and got straight to the point.

“You said you came regarding the matter in Yeongcheon?”

“Yes. I wanted to report the results of what we dug up, thanks to the info you passed along. It was important enough for me to deliver in person.”

Elder Punggae of the Yeongcheon Branch had promised to forward my intel. Still, I hadn’t expected Geolhwang himself to appear.

Raising a brow in curiosity, I listened intently.

“...So that’s been taken care of on our end. But there’s something strange going on in Gwangju.”

“In Gwangju?”

That piqued my interest.

As he elaborated, the oddity became clearer.

“Yes. We tracked some of the informants you identified. One led us to a merchant guild operating out of Daewolguk. They’re based in Gwangju and do occasional trade—but something’s off.”

“You suspect a connection to the Blood Cult or the Five Venoms?”

“We couldn’t confirm it directly, but one of the Five Venoms' agents—named in your report—used their ship to escape to Daewolguk. The goods they deal in are also... suspicious. Boheoldan, snake wine, snake skins, silks...”

“Definitely suspicious.”

“Suspicion is putting it lightly. We’re fairly certain.”

Boheoldan, snake-based alcohols, exotic hides—classic front material. But then came the real kicker:

“They also sell medicine for colds. But when we tested it, it contained powder from an unidentified animal.”

“Now that’s strange.”

“Exactly.”

Cough medicine containing mysterious animal powder?

I nodded, expression grave.

“What do you plan to do?”

“Unfortunately, we can’t move directly. They’re Daewolguk traders. Any interference would become an international issue. We’re looking for a more... indirect approach.”

Indirect attack, huh...

As I mulled it over, Ranghyang, still blind, accidentally bumped into a chair—causing a loud thunk.

—Clatter.

—Kyuu... Kyuki...

Startled, she cowered.

But it sparked an idea.

A rather... fun one.

“Elder Geolhwang, if you’d be willing to answer a few /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ questions, I might have a rather creative and effective solution.”

My mind was already racing with possibilities.

A plan was forming—and it was going to be good.