HDCLSSRS Ch 133

Chapter 133 Kill and Erase the Mouths(4)

“What are you doing! Why haven’t you killed him already!”

The people surrounding them were mostly young disciples of the Wudang Sect. With eyes bloodshot red, they cried tears as they wailed.

Seong Muyeon snapped back to his senses when he saw crimson blood dripping on the ground.

“If Master Je Cheondeuk has died, then does that mean someone attacked him?”

When he asked this, someone shouted back in a voice inflamed by rage.

“Why are you asking me that? You know better than anyone else! You killed him!”

A spark of anger made Muyeon grip the dirt floor until his fingers clenched full of soil.

“I did not kill him.”

He muttered between his teeth as he began to rise. Then he turned toward the Wudang disciple who had attacked him.

“Put away your sword. Even if I’m to die, shouldn’t I at least know how things turned out before I do?”

The words sounded calm, but inside, his fury had sunk cold.

“How shameless! Still intent on denying it?”

The Wudang disciple gave a contemptuous snort. Around them, sneers and derision burst out openly.

‘…What crime did I commit, exactly?’

He had not killed Je Cheondeuk. He had done nothing else wrong. There was nothing weighing on his conscience.

So when Muyeon didn’t react excessively and simply gazed at him steadily, the unexpected composure caused the Wudang disciple to falter and take a half-step back.

Without a word, Muyeon shoved aside his sword. The bloodied blade slid back with a hiss.

“Someone explain to me. What exactly happened?”

At that moment, a middle-aged man broke through the group of disciples and shouted.

“What nonsense are you lot up to! You haven’t even gathered your senior brother’s corpse!”

Elder Hyeonjin swept his gaze across his disciples, who’d surrounded Muyeon in hostility. From the looks of it, as soon as they had discovered Je Cheondeuk’s death, they’d barged out in a blind rush to blame him.

The disciples all burst into tears at once.

“Elder! It must be him… it must have been him who killed Senior Brother! Just yesterday Senior Brother had awoken, and the last person he saw was him!”

“…”

Moved by a disciple’s tearful plea, Elder Hyeonjin turned his head toward Seong Muyeon. His face was wrinkled with grief. His Adam’s apple bobbed heavily, as though struggling, before he finally spoke with hesitation.

“Let me ask you directly. Did you harm my disciple?”

“No.”

The answer came without a blink.

Hyeonjin exhaled a thin sigh and turned away.

“Your senior lies upon a cold bed now. Let us first collect his remains—other matters can be dealt with afterward, it won’t be too…”

“Don’t be deceived! That man is a demon!”

A sudden outcry rose from the crowd. The one who had spoken was Lord Yang of Ha Pavilion, who, judging from his wide eyes, had shouted on impulse. Noticing his slip, he slapped his hands over his own mouth, darting glances as unease rippled through his face.

Muyeon frowned. That man, who’d been nowhere to be found no matter how he searched all day, had suddenly appeared. Meeting Muyeon’s stare, Lord Yang flinched and tried hurriedly to slink back into the crowd. But Elder Hyeonjin strode forth and demanded an explanation.

“Lord Yang, what did you mean by that just now?”

“Well, that is…”

Yang stole a blatant glance at Muyeon. Fear filled his eyes.

“You know something, don’t you? Speak. Was it him who killed Cheondeuk?”

“T-that, I do not know for certain…”

Yang answered in a voice that wavered with weakness.

‘What in the world…’

Muyeon felt something ominous coil around him. Instinctively he wanted to silence the man, but by the time he stepped forward, it was already too late.

As Hyeonjin turned, prepared to brush things aside, Yang cried out again at his back.

“S-Seventh Young Master Seong Muyeon has a past of slaughtering hundreds before even reaching adulthood! What’s one more death to someone like him?”

Startled himself at what he had just blurted out, Yang immediately shrank back behind Hyeonjin’s shoulder. The crowd gasped as one.

“Is what he says true?”

Hyeonjin frowned at Muyeon doubtfully. But when his eyes fell on the young man’s face, his own hardened at once.

“…No answer is needed.”

For Muyeon’s complexion had gone white as chalk.

‘How… did they know?’

Muyeon stood frozen, unmovable as stone.

‘How could they have found out?’

No other thought filled him.

“Speak in detail.”

“The day he first arrived here, Seventh Young Master Seong visited the prison and secretly overheard a conversation between my elder brother and me,” Yang explained, stammering at first. “He heard that among the Seven Young Masters of the Demonic Cult, the most heartless was Seong Muyeon himself… that killing without reason was not enough for him—he even slew my own mother! That’s what was said.”

His voice grew louder, firmer with each word.

“If that’s true, then I decided we cannot possibly allow such a vile person to remain in the manor. Otherwise, calamity would surely fall upon us! Fear drove me to investigate whether the story was true or not. And finally…”

The surroundings went deadly quiet. More had gathered, all listening intently.

“And finally, I confirmed everything. It was all true. That means what’s happening now was inevitable—the consequence of letting him linger here, hiding such a vicious past behind an innocent mask!”

People sucked in their breaths in shock. In the depths of their wavering gazes, contempt and fear now burned toward him.

He did not care how others looked at him. But when he noticed Kang Ung among the faces, eyes wide with shock, his body trembled. And among the new arrivals was also Paeng Wongeum. He, too, stood frozen, staring at Muyeon, unable to mask the confusion spreading across his features.

“Go on then, make your excuses!”

Yang’s shrill voice rang out. He clutched at his bandaged abdomen—the very wound Muyeon himself had once saved him from.

Muyeon gave a hollow smile. His body loosened, but what welled up instead was a heavy void, like sinking into futility.

‘Truly… how did I even dare to think I could step foot into this place? How could I, with blood-soaked hands, act so shamelessly?’

Now he understood why Yang had fainted when he first approached him. The man had already overheard his conversation with Seong Mujai and feared what Muyeon might do to him.

And now, having seized this chance, he exposed Muyeon’s secret before everyone present.

“W-well then, speak your defense.”

Elder Hyeonjin’s voice carried traces of dismay. Muyeon lifted his head and met his gaze, making him clamp his mouth shut nervously.

A defense. He could give one, if he wished.

Those he killed were rightly so. Vermin unworthy of living in this world, their deaths no loss to anyone. If anything, the world had grown cleaner for it. So, no, he did not regret it.

He could have said all that.

But… Muyeon found no reason to defend himself. So he merely said:

“It’s all true.”

A strained silence swept the gathering. Many instinctively edged away, as if expecting him to start swinging his sword to slaughter them where they stood.

“Sh-shouldn’t we drive him out?”

Someone broke the silence. The floodgates then burst.

“Lock him in prison! We can’t let such a man roam free!”

“That’s right! Who knows what atrocity he’ll commit next!”

“We never should have trusted some demonic cult brat in the first place!”

A cold chuckle silenced the noise. Muyeon smirked.

“When did any of you ever trust me?”

Most avoided his eyes at that icily pointed question. But one man, stung, leapt up angrily.

“T-trust or not, the fact remains you’re a killer. Twisting words won’t change that. You’ll never be someone we can rely on.”

“He speaks true! Exactly right!”

Muyeon knew then it was time to retreat. In calmer days, he would have. He would have waited quietly, biding through the tension until tempers cooled. Then, carefully, he’d reveal only the necessary fragments of truth to the few who needed to hear, hoping they would believe.

“What can one expect from a parricide who even killed his own mother?”

At those words, something inside Muyeon snapped. And he could no longer restrain himself.

“Well now… isn’t that strange.”

The words slipped unbidden from his lips. Tilting his head, he gazed intently at the man who spoke.

“W-what’s strange?”

“When that incident happened, I was in the Demonic Cult. And of course, surrounded only by cultists. Meaning the people I killed were all cult members. Whether I killed hundreds, or thousands… tell me, how is that any different from what you all gathered here are trying to do right now?”