HDCLSSRS Ch 149

Chapter 149 Awakening(5)

But Jegal Un moved faster. The thin strand of iron wire in his hand flicked through the air — and the metal fan-blade embedded itself into the chest of the fleeing Yangha Pavilion Master.

“Kuhh!”

At the same instant, Jang Hansu kicked off the ground. Jegal Un, holding the Spirit Seal’s box in one hand and his weapon in the other, clashed with him in a violent flurry of steel.

“So you’ve chosen the path of folly after all!” Jang Hansu shouted, slashing fiercely.

“You won’t silence us all!”

Having only ever seen Jang Hansu crushed under Baek Lye-il’s power before, Young Master Muyeon couldn’t help but marvel at the deadly precision and speed of his swordsmanship now. Jegal Un, for once, was driven purely to defend.

Seizing the chance while Hansu kept him at bay, Muyeon rushed to the fallen Pavilion Master. Jegal Un’s strike had aimed for a fatal point, but it seemed the cowardly man had twisted his body at the last instant — the wound was deep, yet not immediately lethal. Still, he had lost consciousness.

“Seomun Gongja, please — handle the Young Master Jegal,” said Muyeon, his voice steady with grim resolve.

Seomun Yuha nodded, eyes sharp with determination.

“Dojang! Can you hold him just a moment longer?”

“What nonsense are you— Ghhk!”

Jang Hansu leapt backward, narrowly dodging Jegal Un’s upward strike.

“I’ll explain later!” Yuha drew his Hwaryeon Whip, joining the fray.

Hansu hesitated briefly, but he knew the truth: though his skill was formidable, he could not overpower Jegal Un for long. Even here — where the narrow space limited Jegal Un’s movements — true victory would demand sacrifice.

His eyes hardened with resolve. He lunged forward, unleashing the full fury of Mount Hua’s blade. His strikes rained down like a storm of needles — swift, precise, and merciless. Jegal Un faltered, forced back step by step.

Yuha’s whip snapped forward, weaving through the air. Together, their combined assault left Jegal Un no room to counter. At last, a flicker of weakness opened in his defense. Jang Hansu struck the side of his head with the sword’s hilt, and as Jegal Un staggered, he seized his shoulders.

Yuha didn’t miss the chance. His whip coiled with a sharp crack, his eyes locking with Jegal Un’s.

“Drop your weapon, Young Master,” he commanded softly — yet firmly, his voice laced with the alluring force of the Huajeong Valley charm.

Jegal Un’s eyes widened, trembling under the compulsion — but he resisted, muscles tightening, refusing to let go of the wire.

“I said, drop it!” Yuha cried, his voice ringing like a bell.

Muyeon, watching, felt his tense heart ease when he saw Jegal Un’s shuddering cease — the tremors fading, the charm taking hold.

A metallic clatter echoed across the floor.

But it was not Jegal Un who dropped his weapon.

The sword fell from Jang Hansu’s grasp instead. His mouth hung open in shock — and then his eyes rolled back as he collapsed to the floor.

Before they could react, a pale hand slipped out from behind Jegal Un and seized Seomun Yuha’s face.

“Well, now… how fascinating.”

Jegal Un stepped aside, revealing the owner of that gentle voice.

Muyeon froze. His blood turned to ice.

“I didn’t expect to meet a young Huajeong Valley here,” said the man, studying Yuha’s face as if examining a rare artifact.

“P-Paeng Gongja…? What are you doing here…?” Yuha stammered.

“Greetings, Young Master Muyeon.”

Paeng Wongeum smiled warmly, his tone perfectly polite — absurdly so, given the bloodied chaos around them.

“Hand it over,” he said casually. Jegal Un obeyed, placing the Spirit Seal box into his outstretched hand.

Yuha’s lips trembled, his complexion ashen, but he couldn’t move. Neither could Muyeon. A chill unlike any other clawed up his spine; it felt as though every drop of blood had drained from his body.

Paeng Wongeum examined the box briefly, then looked up with a faint smile.

“Oh dear. I seem to have frightened you.”

“Y-you… you can’t be serious. You’re… you’re the spy my third brother planted?” Muyeon’s voice cracked, disbelief thick in his throat.

Wongeum’s eyes curved gently as he smiled.

“Please don’t look at me like that. I’d intended to explain properly, once I returned. But you see, you Seventh Young Master were rather impatient — so you came to me first.”

“How could you…” Muyeon whispered, stunned beyond words.

He had known Paeng Wongeum through the original story — a man as noble and trustworthy as Baek Lye-il himself. The revelation struck like lightning, impossible to accept.

Baek Lye-il turning traitor would have been just as unthinkable. Yet here it was.

No. Not him. Not Paeng Wongeum.

Then his gaze fell to Seomun Yuha — still held fast in Paeng Wongeum’s grasp. The sight snapped him back to clarity.

“Please,” Muyeon said, his voice low but urgent. “Let Seomun Gongja go. He’s not involved in any of this. Don’t harm him.”

“This Huajeong Valley child? Are you worried I’ll hurt him?”

Muyeon bit his lip, saying nothing. He could barely think straight — his mind screamed confusion while his instincts screamed to act.

Wongeum chuckled softly and tapped Yuha’s cheek.

“Don’t worry. Living Huajeong Valley heirs are rare these days. I wouldn’t waste such a precious one.”

It took a heartbeat before Muyeon understood his words — and then his stomach dropped.

He looked to Jang Hansu, unconscious like a puppet with its strings cut… and to Jegal Un, who now stood vacant and glassy-eyed.

“You… you’re…”

Paeng Wongeum’s smile deepened.

“Yes. I’m a Huajeong Valley as well.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Seomun Yuha crumpled soundlessly to the ground, just as Hansu had.

“To think you only realized it now, despite being so close to one of my kind… I’m almost offended,” Wongeum said lightly.

Muyeon’s gaze dropped. The truth unraveled all at once — Jegal Un’s erratic behavior, his unnatural composure, the vacant look in his eyes. He’d been under the control of another Huajeong Valley’s enchantment all along.

A soft laugh drifted from above his bowed head.

“You think avoiding my eyes will save you? That trick only works on fledglings. Once a Huajeong Valley matures, we no longer need eye contact to use our power. Still,” he said, voice dropping to a calm murmur, “I won’t use it on you. Relax.”

“…”

“You don’t trust me? I can’t blame you. But trust, Young Master Muyeon, would make things easier for you. Some paths cannot be forced.”

“Why…” Muyeon’s voice shook. “Why are you doing this? Since when have you been working with the Demonic Sect?”

His body trembled violently.

“You’re the Young Master of the Paeng Clan in Hebei! What could you possibly lack? Why betray your clan — the entire martial world — for this?”

“Why did I join the Demonic Sect?” Wongeum repeated softly, his steps echoing lightly as he walked closer.

“You must have felt it too — haven’t you? The hypocrisy of the Nine Great Sects, the Five Noble Clans…” He smiled faintly, but his eyes were sharp as glass. “They prattle about righteousness while dripping with filth. Parasites, every last one of them.”

His gaze turned cold — the kind of cold that cut deeper than steel. He looked over Jang Hansu, the Pavilion Master’s corpse, and the hollow-eyed Jegal Un.

“I don’t want to see their smug, self-satisfied faces anymore. I want them ground into dust — until even their souls can’t remember hope. But my strength alone isn’t enough.” His tone softened, almost wistful. “So I found someone greater to help me.”

A storm swirled in his eyes — hatred thick and suffocating, boiling beneath the veneer of calm. It was almost impossible to believe this same man once smiled so kindly.

“Tell me, Young Master Muyeon,” he said, voice smooth again, “don’t you wish for revenge too? To make those who stole your loved ones suffer?”

He smiled — the same warm, gentle curve of his lips as always.

“Take the Spirit Seal and serve the Third Young Lord. He’ll grant you that wish. When the Central Plains is unified under him, both the orthodox sects and the old Demonic Cult will perish — and a new world will rise.”

His lips smiled, but his eyes did not.

And in that moment, Young Master Muyeon’s heart grew unbearably heavy. Because if there was one thing a Huajeong Valley could understand… it was hatred for a world that had wronged them.