HDCLSSRS Ch 126

Chapter 126 The Third Prince (2)

“…”

Seong Muyeon stood in shock for a long moment, too dazed to move.

Too many things had unfolded in too short a span, and his head was churning with chaos.

He had never imagined Seong Muguk would be watching him. And to be called “of the same kind”… The words left him both unsettled and repulsed—yet not something he could wholly deny. At that time in the past, he had never held back his own cruel impulses.

And the yeongdan… Could the orb truly contain a cure for his body?

Rebirth was not simply the result of advanced skill; it demanded both monstrous cultivation and deep enlightenment. No matter how much inner force was poured recklessly inside, transcendence would not come so easily.

At that moment, a rustling sounded—Kang Ung groaned back to awareness. In the turmoil of Muguk’s sudden appearance, Muyeon had nearly forgotten him entirely. He dashed over quickly.

“Are you alright?”

“Y-yes… What happened? Who was that man?”

Likely because he had fainted so suddenly, Kang Ung did not recall Muguk addressing Muyeon as “youngest.”

“He was—”

Muyeon began to tell the truth, but the words withered on his lips. It was not that he had reason to hide. Whether it was Je Cheondeuk’s injuries or Zhuge Manor being attacked—it was all done openly by Muguk and his Ghostslayers. Muyeon could have revealed this and washed his hands clean.

But tell them this, and questions would arise inevitably—questions about his Third Brother’s true purpose. Could he truly spin lies fast enough to deceive someone as sharp as Zhuge Yun?

Fortune—or misfortune—spared him choice, for the time was ripped away.

Crash!

The outer window exploded inward as two bodies slammed together through it.

Dust plumed up. One wore the black uniform of Ghostslayers; the other, the wide sleeves of Zhuge Clan retainers. Their mingled bodies twitched faintly—they were still alive.

Muyeon and Kang Ung froze, staring fixedly.

Then the Ghostslayer threw aside the limp Zhuge warrior and rose, eyes flashing. His killing gaze turned sharp toward them.

“Run, Young Master!”

Kang Ung seized Muyeon’s wrist and bolted.

An icy chill sliced at their backs. Muyeon shoved Ung aside, both rolling across the floor just as throwing knives buried themselves where they had stood.

“Ghh…”

Muyeon clutched his shoulder—struck hard in the fall. Raising his eyes, a scene of chaos stretched before him.

“Protect the Young Lord!”

“Uaaagh!”

The Ghostslayers had reached their goal—there was no need to keep fighting in tight knots. The entire manor devolved into scattered slaughter, crimson spurting on every side. The enemy’s numbers were greater than expected.

Behind them, one Ghostslayer stalked close, blade dripping cold light. With nowhere to flee, they plunged directly into the hellish battlefield.

Strangely, no one paid heed to their presence; yet every swing of swords risked cutting them down. The two stumbled, shoving and pulling at each other, searching desperately for some space of safety.

And then Muyeon heard it—clashing steel, a blaze that lit the rooftop in white brilliance.

Baek Ryeoil—locked in combat with Seong Muguk.

“Young Master! This way!” Ung dragged him forcefully. Muyeon tore his eyes away from the roof and allowed himself to be pulled into the ruins—what was left of a wooden building. Between shattered wall and collapsed roof was a narrow nook large enough for them both to squeeze inside.

“Hah… hahhh…”

For the first time, they caught breath.

Dojang…

Ryeoil’s figure burned at the edges of his vision. Muyeon ached to look—see if he yet stood—but dared not peek for fear of being discovered.

Ung, calmer than any boy his age ought to be, kept his blade close and listened to the chaos around them. After long silence he spoke with decision:

“Before leaving Mount Hua, Master entrusted me with something. He said never to bring it out unless the need was dire.”

From his robe he produced a small box.

“Medicine?” Muyeon asked.

“Yes. But there were strict conditions: only if we were alone, with no aid from Master or anyone else… only if we were under siege, when the foe was far too strong or too many to handle. I think… it means now.”

He offered it into Muyeon’s hands.

“I don’t understand why he gave it. But he said Master Yakseon used it on you once, that it doesn’t heal the root, only strengthens the vessel—‘A stronger cup leaks more slowly.’ What does it mean?”

Muyeon smiled faintly, awkwardly. It was no wonder Ung didn’t understand—he did not know what Muyeon still hid.

Ryeoil’s intent had been clear when he gave it: when danger came, use it to preserve his life.

Muyeon peered again through a crack in the wall. Beyond, the manor swirled with mayhem—and by chance, one building caught his eye. The prison. He had been dragged closer and closer without realizing.

Within it, Seong Mujai and Bang Gyeom lay captive.

“Damn you!”

Nearby, the Yangha Pavilion Master fought desperately. But a small sect head could last little against such enemies. His footwork faltered, his sword blunt.

“Krghh!” He collapsed, blood spraying. His body landed, by cruel chance, right beside the hiding place. His eyes locked with Muyeon’s.

“Pl-please… help me…”

“Ah, damn it—”

For a moment, Muyeon and Ung exchanged glances. In Ung’s eyes burned a plea: we cannot let him die.

I hate this.

The Ghostslayer who had struck him down turned his gaze elsewhere for the moment. It was opportunity. Together, Muyeon and Ung dragged him behind the wall. The cramped hollow pressed painfully with the weight of three men huddled close.

“I’ll cover the blood.” Ung whispered fervently. From the master’s belly gushed too much crimson, already trailing outside. Ung piled broken debris over stained floor, trying to hide the trail.

But the foe quickly noticed. Slow, deliberate footsteps drew near. From beyond the wall, Muyeon heard the subtle scrape of steel along wood—the blade sniffing the trail.

Ung froze like a startled mouse.

The tip pierced through, glinting dark—settling upon Ung. The enemy raised his sword…

Muyeon leapt between them.

“—!”

The Ghostslayer jolted, locked in tense stillness, weapon raised. Muyeon frowned.

Surprisingly—the blade did not fall. Slowly, the enemy turned and walked away.

Ung and the Pavilion master stared wide-eyed, bewildered. Muyeon himself was stunned. But as he thought back to Muguk’s earlier words and proposals, it became clear. Muguk had already ordered his men not to harm Muyeon.

Privilege of blood. A bitter favor.

And Mujai was not so fortunate.

“Let me go, you dogs! Do you know who I am?! Touch my body and—urk!”

From the prison, familiar screams rose. Mujai flailed pointlessly, and the Ghostslayers hauled him over their shoulders like refuse.

“Sixth Prince!”

Bang Gyeom’s frantic howl echoed as his master was dragged out.

“Tha-that’s the Sixth Prince, isn’t it?” Ung whispered, horrified.

“Looks like it. My elder brother being kidnapped, yes.”

“…Shouldn’t we save him?!”

“Frankly? I’d rather not.”

Muyeon’s lips curled bitter. If they were to do it, he would be forced to act personally. Wasting Yakseon’s priceless medicine only to save Mujai? That was sheer folly.

“But he’s still your brother… surely he won’t kill him outright?”

“He will.”

“…What…? But siblings—”

“You saw the orb, didn’t you? Muguk killed Fourth Brother himself to forge it.”

Ung blanched, his youthful face drained of color, nearly fainting in shock.

“…Still… we’ll have to retrieve him. Without my brother… Yakseon will never craft the cure.”

Muyeon’s eyes slid to where the Pavilion master lay, grimacing.

“…Why… why are you staring at me?”

Already moaning, the man flinched at Muyeon’s look, trying to crawl back despite the agony of wounds.

“Stay away…! Aaaaghhh!”

Footnotes:

1. Yeongdan (영단, 靈丹) – “Spirit Core,” a crystallization of a cultivator’s lifetime of inner energy. Central to the brothers’ conflict.