dreams spun in berries & fluff
    Chapter Index

    Rate on NU

    Chapter 36 Just This Once (4)

     

    Suddenly, the Sword Saint sprang to his feet.

    “Who are you, exactly, to dare enter my hidden chamber?!”

    “E-Elder? What are you talking about
?”

    “Begone!”

    Seong Muyeon was thrown out for the second time.

    “

”

    “The Plum Blossom Sword Saint? How do you know of him?”

    The next morning, Seong Muyeon waited for an opportunity during breakfast to casually ask Baek Ryeoil.

    “H-He’s such a famous figure, isn’t he? It just popped into my head.”

    He made up an excuse, not wanting to admit he’d snuck out the previous night and risk stirring up trouble.

    Baek Ryeoil shook his head with a sigh.

    “It’s unfortunate. I hear his mind has begun to waver. No one seems to know where he is these days.”

    ‘Just as I thought
’

    As expected, the Sword Saint was suffering from dementia. That might explain why he left his lifelong collection of artifacts unsecured in a cave.

    “You really do seem better, huh?”

    Baek Ryeoil stared at him as he ate and made the comment. For the first time in a while, they had shown up in the dining hall—Seong Muyeon’s condition had noticeably improved starting that morning.

    Seong Muyeon nodded.

    “I told you so, didn’t I?”

    “That’s so strange. You recovered that easily?”

    After inspecting him from head to toe for a while, Baek Ryeoil clicked his tongue.

    “What a shame.”

    “Excuse me? You sound like you’re disappointed I’m not sick.”

    “Well, I mean
 never mind.”

    They left the dining hall and began walking slowly toward Chwijungjae.

    Just then, a group of disciples walked toward them. One of them addressed Baek Ryeoil.

    “Senior Baek, what are you doing here?”

    Though the man’s face wore a smile, his eyes were anything but warm. His gaze quickly shifted to Seong Muyeon.

    “
And the demonic cult’s young lord is with you as well.”

    “That’s right.”

    Baek Ryeoil simply nodded without concern and grabbed Seong Muyeon’s wrist to pull him along. But then he called over his shoulder:

    “Having fun, are we?”

    “What?”

    “Oh, nothing. It just seems you’re acting a bit too friendly. People are watching, after all
”

    The man spoke with a sly smile, glancing toward his group as if seeking their agreement. Low chuckles, laced with mockery, followed.

    “Jang Hansu.”

    Baek Ryeoil called his name coldly.

    Even Seong Muyeon, who wasn’t the one addressed, flinched at the chill in his voice. But what truly shocked him was something else.

    ‘Jang Hansu
? Jang Hansu, the One-Man Army?’

    He knew that name. In the future, he would fight alongside Baek Ryeoil in the Great War between the Orthodox and Demonic sects, earning great merit.

    ‘So even back then, they didn’t get along.’

    Despite Baek Ryeoil’s sharp tone, Jang Hansu wasn’t intimidated in the slightest.

    “You, of all people, shouldn’t be doing this. You know what they’ve done to us.”

    He swaggered forward.

    “Think about who killed both my parents.”

    ‘Ah.’

    Seong Muyeon closed his eyes tightly. He had known this would happen eventually.

    Many lives, including those of Hwasan’s people, had been taken by the Demonic Sect. It was always possible to run into a victim or their bereaved family.

    Baek Ryeoil had also lost family to the Demonic Sect. Seong Muyeon had deliberately avoided thinking about that painful truth. That was partly why he tried to stay out of Baek Ryeoil’s way.

    He glanced up at Baek Ryeoil’s frosty face as he glared at Jang Hansu.

    ‘

’

    “Mind your own business and move along.”

    With that cold remark, Baek Ryeoil walked away with Seong Muyeon.

    A persistent gaze burned into their backs.

    Ever since gaining a bit more freedom to move around, Seong Muyeon had sensed the unpleasant stares from some Hwasan disciples. The Demonic Sect was the sworn enemy of the Orthodox world, and he was, for better or worse, its heir.

    Though officially recognized as a guest of the sect leader, no one openly picked fights with him. But after the recent abduction incident, the stares had only worsened.

    ‘They were already watching me closely, and now I’ve brought in an enemy as well.’

    Thankfully, the Second Prince, Seong Muryong, had left quietly. Otherwise, there might have been massive casualties.

    And the only reason Seong Muryong came to Hwasan in the first place
 was Seong Muyeon.

    “Hey, Dojang.”

    “Jang Hansu’s been looking for any excuse to bring me down since forever. Don’t worry about it.”

    “Still, he wasn’t entirely wrong
”

    “I’d rather not talk about that.”

    Seong Muyeon shut his mouth immediately.

    ‘Right. Best keep quiet while he’s being lenient.’

    That Baek Ryeoil hadn’t blamed him was honestly unexpected.

    Seong Muyeon glanced back at the retreating figures of Jang Hansu and his group. Jang stood slouched, staring back at them.

    ‘I’d better lay low from now on.’

    Given his lineage, drawing attention would only bring trouble.

    But the incident came just a few days later.

    “A duel?”

    “Yes. Your master’s peer asked if you could spar with his disciple.”

    It was Ma Jincheon who spoke.

    Seong Muyeon stood in a corner, silently listening to the conversation between the two senior disciples.

    ‘Why am I even here
?’

    Since that day, Baek Ryeoil had taken Seong Muyeon everywhere he went.

    <I said I’d keep a close eye on you.>

    It was like he was ready to follow him to the restroom.

    Even when summoned by his teacher, Baek Ryeoil had dragged Seong Muyeon along. As a result, he found himself awkwardly curled in a corner during a serious conversation between disciples and masters.

    “Who’s the opponent?”

    “Jang Hansu.”

    Baek Ryeoil’s eyes turned icy.

    “No.”

    He immediately turned his head away. A vein bulged on Ma Jincheon’s forehead.

    “What’s the point? We all know how it’ll end.”

    Apparently, Baek Ryeoil and Jang Hansu had crossed swords many times before.

    “You can’t know that for sure.”

    A sudden voice interjected. A middle-aged Taoist entered Ma Jincheon’s quarters with a group of disciples—Jang Hansu among them.

    “Senior Brother Sang.”

    The man was Sang Geol, Ma Jincheon’s fellow disciple.

    “Our Hansu has made significant progress in his training through tireless effort. He’s eager to settle the humiliation he suffered before. He pleaded with me to arrange this duel.”

    Sang Geol patted his disciple’s shoulder, then glanced at Seong Muyeon, who stood in the corner.

    “Hmm?”

    Seong Muyeon bowed politely. But Sang Geol didn’t return the greeting—instead, he openly frowned.

    “What is he doing here? Get him out.”

    ‘
Yes, please. Get me out of here
’

    Seong Muyeon wholeheartedly agreed. But Baek Ryeoil, apparently oblivious, ignored the request and addressed Jang Hansu.

    “Jang Hansu. You must really want to be humiliated again. I’m getting tired of this.”

    Jang Hansu’s lips twitched.

    “We won’t know until we compare.”

    “That only applies when the difference is subtle.”

    Baek Ryeoil strode up to him.

    “When it’s obviously one-sided, there’s no need to compare at all.”

    “

”

    Even height-wise, Jang Hansu seemed to be a couple inches shorter.

    He trembled with rage.

    “Baek Ryeoil! How dare you provoke someone in front of your master! Master Ma, please arrange the duel. I won’t be so easily defeated this time.”

    Ma Jincheon looked weary. Having such a talented disciple could be exhausting.

    “Ryeoil, are you going to do it?”

    “No.”

    “You little—!”

    Even under his teacher’s scolding, Baek Ryeoil remained unfazed.

    ‘Why am I even here
?’

    Meanwhile, Seong Muyeon was miserably uncomfortable, as though sitting on a bed of nails. He didn’t know where to look. Why were they acting like he wasn’t even there?

    But one person was definitely looking at him—Jang Hansu.

    “Why don’t you say something, Your Grace? Ask him to spar. You two seemed close.”

    “
What?”

    Jang Hansu continued with a sneer.

    “Or better yet, why don’t you spar with me instead?”

    All eyes in the room turned to Seong Muyeon.

    “
Pardon?”

    “Haha, Hansu, don’t be ridiculous. That guy hasn’t even trained in martial arts, has he?”

    Sang Geol waved it off, but Jang Hansu took a step closer to Seong Muyeon.

    “No, I’m serious. Weren’t we trying to determine if he practiced demonic arts or not? Who’s to say? He’s the son of the Demonic Cult Leader—can you really believe he’s never picked up a sword?”

    Apparently, Jang Hansu had been present the day Seong Muyeon first arrived at Hwasan.

    His words seemed to pique Sang Geol’s interest as well.

    “Hmph. Your Grace, speak honestly. Have you ever trained in swordsmanship?”

    Seong Muyeon panicked. Why had the arrow suddenly turned toward him? He was just a bystander caught in a power struggle.

    One by one, everyone seemed to shift their attention to him, waiting for his answer.

    “I-I
”

    Just as Seong Muyeon hesitated—

    Note