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    Chapter 30 It Wasn’t on Purpose (3)

     

    “What’s with that face? You don’t like my gift?”

    “
No, Brother.”

    Sung Muyeon’s expression darkened. It was all in the past now. Back when he hadn’t yet regained memories of his previous life—when he, too, had desperately longed to be recognized as the son of the cult leader, when that desire alone had consumed his entire life.

    If he took the Demon Soul Pill, his body and spirit would become tainted with demonic energy. He had to master demonic arts and internalize them before the energy clouded his mind. Which meant—he would have to live the rest of his life as a true demon cultist, to his very bones.

    He would never be able to escape the cult, never be rid of its name. He would become the embodiment of the cult itself.

    Tap.

    A pale hand suddenly reached forward and shut the medicinal box.

    “Brother?”

    “I said it was a gift, but that doesn’t mean I’ll just hand it over for free.”

    With graceful fingers, he took the box from Muyeon’s grasp. The next moment, it disappeared into his sleeve.

    “If I give you a gift, isn’t it only fair that you give me one in return?”

    “…What?”

    “It’s nothing big. All I want is for you to make a pledge.”

    Sung Muryong stood from his seat and slowly circled around the round table.

    “A vow that you will never betray me. Words alone won’t do. I need your sincerity—your life on the line—an oath that can never be broken again
”

    He leaned against the table and gently lifted Muyeon’s chin with his hand.

    “Let me place a Soul Binding Curse on you.”

    “Brother!”

    Muyeon hastily pulled away from his grip. In the process, the chair toppled over, and the items on the table shattered into pieces.

    The Soul Binding Curse was a fearsome spell that used the subject’s soul as an offering to control their mind. If one tried to forcibly break it, it could lead to mental collapse.

    Muyeon was visibly shaken. This was not the brother he had known. As far as he had known, Muryong had been the only person in the cult with whom he could form a genuine bond.

    They say betrayal cuts deepest when it comes from those you trust. He had always thought that was just a saying—until now. For the first time, he questioned whether this really was the same brother he had once known.

    Sung Muryong slowly rose from his chair with a calm expression, as if he hadn’t just uttered such terrifying words.

    “Don’t worry. I won’t harm you. I promise to only use it to keep you from leaving me—or the cult.”

    He stepped forward, crushing the shards beneath his feet.

    Muyeon instinctively stepped back until his back hit the wall.

    “I won’t hurt you. You trust me, right? Hm? Muyeon-ah.”

    “

.”

    Sung Muryong braced both arms against the wall, trapping him between them.

    With feigned softness, he let his voice trail.

    “You probably don’t know much since you’ve been away from the cult. While you were gone, the cult leader—our father—collapsed.”

    “

.”

    Muyeon swallowed hard. So the cult leader had finally fallen.

    “It’s a tragedy. Look at us brothers—after losing both our mothers, now we’re about to lose our father too. And instead of mourning, we’re already at each other’s throats.”

    “
Brother, what happened?”

    “The fourth is dead. The sixth has disappeared.”

    “Already?”

    Only then did Muyeon begin to grasp the change that had come over Muryong.

    “Can you believe it? The moment Father collapsed, this is what happened. Even the eldest has faced several assassination attempts. In times like these, we must be able to trust one another.”

    “
Brother.”

    At last, the brutal succession war between the cult’s seven princes had begun.

    And of course, it would breed anxiety.

    Muryong had tried harder than anyone to maintain at least a minimal camaraderie with the other brothers. Perhaps they didn’t share that sentiment—but among them, he had been the only one with any shred of humanity. This recent turn of events must have been a terrible blow.

    ‘Still
 is this any way to treat the little brother you cherished?’

    Muryong smiled, just as softly as before.

    “Muyeon, I don’t want to doubt or hurt you. That’s why. The Soul Binding Curse isn’t a dangerous spell by nature. It’s only dangerous when misused. As long as you trust me, nothing will happen.”

    He whispered sweetly, like coaxing a child.

    “Hm? Muyeon-ah, you trust your brother, don’t you?”

    “

.”

    Muyeon clenched his fists.

    This wasn’t right.

    “I think
 you’re misunderstanding something, Brother.”

    “Hm?”

    “Trusting someone doesn’t work that way.”

    When Muyeon raised his head, his face was cold and composed. No trace of helplessness or fear remained.

    “How can one earn trust by suppressing freedom? If you can’t even trust me, how can I trust you?”

    A visible crack ran through Muryong’s smiling expression.

    “Do you truly want to trust me, Brother? Then why won’t you give me even a single chance?”

    Baek Ryeoil had given him another chance—because he wanted to trust him, even if he couldn’t yet.

    That was what trust truly meant.

    “
You.”

    A terrifying aura began to pour from Muryong. He was no longer smiling.

    Then, it happened.

    KWAANG—!

    A deafening roar shattered the air as the wall exploded. Broken debris and a thick cloud of dust filled the room.

    When the dust finally settled, the cause of the destruction became clear.

    “
Didn’t you say you wouldn’t run?”

    Baek Ryeoil stood there with a murderous expression. He looked utterly terrifying—but Muyeon was so relieved to see him, tears welled up in his eyes.

    “The Ruthless Sword, Baek Ryeoil.”

    Muryong instantly recognized him. He twisted his body to stand between Muyeon and Ryeoil. His broad back naturally blocked the view.

    “And who might you be?”

    “I heard you were tormenting my brother.”

    “Hah, Sung Muyeon. So you ran crying to your big brother that fast?”

    “I did not!”

    Muyeon tried to raise himself on his toes, stretching to peer around him, but it was hopeless.

    “A backwater cult brat should’ve stayed put in his corner. You dare crawl in here?”

    Shrring.

    The chilling sound of a blade being drawn echoed through the air with Ryeoil’s icy voice.

    Muyeon’s eyes fell on the scabbard lying on the ground.

    A cold jolt struck his heart. When a swordsman discards his scabbard, it means he fully intends to kill.

    Muryong scoffed.

    “There is no place in the Central Plains I cannot tread.”

    He, too, drew a blade from his sleeve.

    As the two masters faced off, their auras clashed violently. The very air around them bristled with sharp tension.

    The shockwaves knocked over furniture and sent items flying.

    And the one caught in the middle—was Muyeon.

    “Ugh
”

    Unable to endure the pressure, he let out a soft groan. Both men instantly turned their heads toward him. Their murderous intent vanished in a blink.

    Without hesitation, both Baek Ryeoil and Sung Muryong leapt out through the gaping hole in the wall.

    The next moment, an earth-shattering boom exploded in midair. The pitch-black night sky flashed bright for an instant before returning to darkness. Screams of civilians rang out from below. Ryeoil and Muryong were locked in a fierce battle.

    Muyeon snapped out of his daze. He leaned through the hole, but the combatants were hidden behind rooftops and walls.

    He hurried to the stairs, stumbling and nearly tumbling down in his haste. Forcing his trembling legs to move, he rushed downstairs.

    “They say you can’t trust a single soul in this world
 Soul Binding Curse, huh?”

    That was just a fancy way of saying, I want to play with you like a puppet. The moment that curse was placed, Muyeon would be living at his beck and call. He had thought Muryong was one of the good ones, simply because he had treated him well.

    It had all been a delusion.

    “Some nerve he has, treating people like they’re nothing.”

    In the martial world, weakness was a sin. That was the law.

    “Huff, huff!”

    At last, Muyeon reached the first floor and, seeing no one, bolted out into the street.

    “Huff, huff, huff!”

    Just then, something came hurtling down and struck the ground to his left.

    KWA-GWA-GWANG—!

    The person crashed so hard they dug a crater into the earth and smashed through a wall as they skidded backward. From the debris of what had moments ago been a fence, Sung Muryong staggered to his feet.

    He wiped the blood from his lips with his sleeve and twisted his lips into a crooked grin.

    “
Not bad.”

    He vanished again in the blink of an eye.

    “

.”

    Muyeon stood frozen like a stone statue beside the wreckage.

    “Hiccup.”

    From a short distance away, he could barely see the two figures in combat. They leapt across rooftops and off walls, their swords clashing midair.

    At a glance, they seemed evenly matched—but Baek Ryeoil clearly had the upper hand. To fight him evenly, one would need to be the First Prince or an elder.

    BOOM! CRASH!

    If anything, the only reason Muryong was still alive was because Ryeoil was blinded by rage. Had he been a bit more calm, he would’ve already taken Muryong’s head.

    “Stay out of this! This is my fight!”

    Muryong shouted furiously at the Black Shadow Squad, who had been looking for an opening to intervene.

     

     

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