HDCLSSRS Ch 1

Chapter 1 I Need to Get Out of Here. (1)

 

Seong Muyeon, the seventh son of the Demon Sect Leader, otherwise known as the “Seventh Young Master,” suddenly recalled his past life one day.

Just as he was drinking a decoction, he spat it out right toward the physician.

“Puh!”

“…Seventh Young Master, are you feeling unwell?”

“Cough, no, it’s nothing.”

Seong Muyeon calmly wiped his mouth with the plain cloth the physician offered, but cold sweat was streaming down his back.

‘I’m screwed.’

His eyes squeezed shut on instinct.

It was because this world was the setting of a martial arts novel called The Lone Sword Fights On (Jigeom Dokjeon).

The Lone Sword Fights On was a classic wuxia novel, a tale where a righteous orthodox protagonist crushed the Demonic Sect—a typical overpowered martial arts story.

Which meant…

His father was Seong Hyukgwang, the leader of the Demonic Sect, and he had six older brothers. In other words, Seong Muyeon was as good as dead.

He glanced around once again with new eyes.

This was his residence within the Demonic Sect’s headquarters in Singang. The physician with wide eyes, currently questioning the mental state of the Seventh Young Master, was also from the Demonic Sect. The assistant behind him, the servants passing by—everyone was from the Demonic Sect.

And this very residence would eventually be burned to the ground by the hands of the protagonist.

That was fate.

“Seventh Young Master? Was the medicine wrong?”

Seong Muyeon waved his hand while pressing his forehead.

“No. Leave me.”

It would have been better if he hadn’t remembered.

“Damn it all.”

All that escaped his lips was a heavy sigh.

Why did he have to be born into the Demonic Sect?

In the 25 years he had lived as Seong Muyeon, the Seventh Young Master, this place had been his sanctuary. But now it felt terrifying.

‘What should I do?’

“Yeona, how are you feeling?”

“Ah, Hyungnim.”

The person who came to visit Seong Muyeon’s residence was Seong Muryong, the Second Young Master.

He was the only one who looked after the otherwise overlooked Seventh Young Master.

“I heard you threw up all your decoction today.”

He asked with concern.

More than threw up, it would be more accurate to say he spewed it.

“How are you going to manage with such a weak body? You need to take your medicine properly.”

“Yes, Hyungnim.”

Seong Muyeon was so frail that he couldn’t function in daily life without medicine. Up until yesterday, he had been frustrated by that fact…

But now, it was actually convenient.

“Hyungnim, about that.”

“Hmm?”

“What if I went to the Central Plains for recuperation?”

“Recuperation?”

Seong Muyeon nodded.

Soon, their father, the Sect Leader, would fall ill, and a succession war would break out. In any case, Seong Muyeon had virtually zero chance of becoming the next leader.

The Sect Leader had six strong sons already. Seong Muyeon, as the youngest and lacking in martial arts, was insignificant. In the original novel, the Seventh Young Master, Seong Muyeon, was only mentioned in passing—he never even appeared.

‘…He probably died early on.’

He needed to escape the impending bloodbath in the Demonic Sect as soon as possible.

“But Yeona, even if it’s for recovery, the journey to the Central Plains is long. I’m not sure your body can handle it.”

“It’s all right. I’ll go slowly, resting often.”

“I’m still worried.”

“…Hyungnim, I know. I won’t live long. Before I die, I want to see the Central Plains. Is that too much to ask for?”

Seong Muyeon lowered his voice to sound as sorrowful as possible. As intended, Seong Muryong was moved with pity and didn’t know what to say.

“All right. If that’s what you want.”

‘…Got it!’

Thus, Seong Muyeon left Singang and embarked on a long journey toward the Central Plains under the guise of recuperation.

It was a lonely departure, with no one there to see him off—but Seong Muyeon didn’t mind. In fact, he was glad.

The grand and imposing main palace of the Demonic Sect was filled with people. But aside from his second brother, Seong Muryong, not a single person cared about him. In the Demonic Sect, Seong Muyeon was virtually invisible. And he, in turn, had no remaining familial affection.

To the reincarnated Seong Muyeon, this place was a world where common sense didn’t apply.

He just wanted to get out—fast.

Clatter, clatter.

The carriage shook relentlessly.

“Young Master, are you all right? You look pale.”

His escort, Ilgwang, asked. He was riding on horseback but had drawn near after seeing Seong Muyeon slumped by the carriage window. Posing as the young master of a wealthy family, Seong Muyeon looked like he was on the verge of death.

Seong Muyeon waved his hand.

“Ah, I’m fine.”

“…Yes, sir.”

Ilgwang pulled away.

Seong Muyeon felt absolutely wretched. The most common means of travel in this era was by carriage, and the roads were rough. Even just sitting on the hard seat was painful.

‘I have to endure. It’s the only way to survive.’

He burned with resolve. He could put up with something like this if it meant staying alive.

After reaching the Central Plains, Seong Muyeon planned to slip away unnoticed at the right moment.

‘The problem is the escort.’

He glanced sideways at Ilgwang, who was vigilantly watching the surroundings like a hawk. Although Ilgwang was the only visible guard, there were likely other hidden martial artists escorting them.

‘How do I shake those guys off?’

“Young Master, we’re at a fork in the road.”

Ilgwang spoke up. When outside, he used the term “Young Master” to maintain their cover.

“If we keep going straight, we’ll reach Shaanxi. I’ve heard they have excellent hot springs there. It would be good for your health…”

“Not Shaanxi!”

Seong Muyeon shouted in panic.

“Pardon? Why not?”

“Ah, no… I think Sichuan would be better. I want to try Sichuan cuisine.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ilgwang looked puzzled but didn’t press the matter and simply nodded.

Seong Muyeon kept a calm expression with effort, but his heart pounded like a drum.

“Shanxi? That’s where the Mount Hua Sect is! Are you trying to get me killed?!”

Even if he managed to avoid getting caught up in the demonic cult’s succession battle, the Central Plains were full of dangers.

And among them, Mount Hua Sect was one of the deadliest.

“That’s where the protagonist lives!”

The main character of this novel, the Plum Blossom Swordmaster Baek Ryeoil, was someone Seong Muyeon never wanted to meet. Baek Ryeoil held a tremendous grudge against the demonic cult. No demonic cult member who crossed his path had ever lived to tell the tale.

Seong Muyeon forced himself to calm down.

As long as he hid his identity well, he’d be fine. He hadn’t learned any demonic arts, so no one could tell his background just by looking. The carriage and the guards were all disguised as ordinary folk, so as long as he behaved cautiously, everything should be fine.

As long as he didn’t run into the Swordmaster, he might be able to live a peaceful life even in this brutal Central Plains.

He had to make it so.

The carriage changed direction and headed for Sichuan Province.

After a long journey, the carriage arrived at Chengdu in Sichuan. Seong Muyeon took a room at a luxurious inn and fell ill for several days.

Three times a day, he only ate the food and took the medicine Ilgwang brought him. While bedridden, he sketched out a simple plan for the future.

“If I succeed in running away, I’ll live in hiding in the countryside until the war’s over.”

He had enough money to live comfortably for a few years without working.

“Good thing the demonic cult is rich.”

Even the clothes he was wearing now would fetch a good price if sold.

“After that…”

Cough, cough!

A fierce coughing fit overtook Seong Muyeon. He coughed as if trying to spit out his lungs, and his sleeve was stained red.

“Next, I need to fix this damn body.”

His cursed body.

He suffered from a condition known as “severed meridians.” It was one of those illnesses frequently seen in martial arts stories—those afflicted with it had their energy flow disrupted and could not properly learn martial arts.

As the son of the demonic cult leader, Seong Muyeon had been expected to train in demonic arts from a young age, but this illness had prevented it. Because of that, he had fallen out of favor with the cult leader.

“Severed meridians” was a condition often reserved for protagonists or heroines.

If a protagonist had it, they’d soon encounter some miraculous opportunity: finding a rare elixir after falling off a cliff, or discovering the hideout of a reclusive master—things that would make them even stronger.

And if the heroine had it, it usually served as a strong plot device to bind her to the protagonist. Healing the illness would often require… intimate contact with the main character.

“As if sleeping with someone would magically cure a disease. Ridiculous.”

Seong Muyeon let out a sharp scoff.

“Young master, are you alright?”

Perhaps having heard the coughing, Ilgwang cautiously called out from outside the door.

“Shall I bring your medicine?”

“Yes.”

A short while later, he downed the steaming, bitter decoction.

“Looks like the medicine’s working well. That’s a relief.”

“Indeed.”

Rolling the candy Ilgwang had handed him around in his mouth, Seong Muyeon let out a bitter smile.

“Not that it’s doing anything, really.”

How could a simple tonic possibly cure a disrupted energy flow?

Fortunately, he knew of a few locations where the protagonist would later acquire rare elixirs. If needed, he could retrieve them himself.

But that was for later. Seong Muyeon, determined to live, gave Ilgwang an order.

“Ilgwang, prepare for an outing.”

“Excuse me? It’s currently a busy time of day. If you go out now…”

“I’m not some dying old man. I’ve been cooped up for days and I’m getting stir-crazy. I need to see the outside world.”

“If you insist, there’s a street performance happening at the market. Would you like to check it out?”