HDCLSSRS Ch 38

Chapter 38 Just This Once (6)

 

Suddenly, Jang Hansu’s internal energy surged violently within him.

Even Seong Muyeon could sense the unstable flow. Jang Hansu staggered, exhaling in erratic, broken breaths.

Seong Muyeon’s eyes widened.

‘This is…!’

Qi deviation.

“Senior! Please, calm— Gah!”

Gripping the edge of the wooden sword’s blade, Jang Hansu struck his junior and sent him flying.

Though swaying like a drunk, he turned his body toward his target—Seong Muyeon.

“Because of you… My father…”

Faced with the savage energy, Seong Muyeon instinctively took several steps back.

Qi deviation—when a martial artist’s accumulated internal energy goes berserk and begins to reverse its flow. In such a state, they lose all rationality and go on a mad rampage.

Having suffered a crushing defeat by Baek Ryeoil days ago, Jang Hansu was left mentally wounded. Then, while revisiting the memory of his father’s death, he seemed to have triggered a heart demon, resulting in a full-blown deviation.

“Please, calm yourself. Try to breathe deeply.”

Seong Muyeon desperately tried to pacify him.

But it was futile. After all, Seong Muyeon was the very cause of the heart demon.

“Revenge… I’ll kill you…”

Jang Hansu’s eyes turned bloodshot. The veins in his face burst, coloring it bright red.

‘Damn it.’

It was already too late.

Just then, the junior who had been knocked away earlier lunged forward and grabbed Jang Hansu around the waist.

“Go call someone! Quickly!”

“Let go! Let go of me!”

Seong Muyeon immediately turned and ran.

Hwasan was one of the most renowned sword sects in the central plains, home to hundreds of top martial artists. Surely someone capable of stopping this would be nearby.

Since a commotion had already begun, help would arrive soon.

The problem was…

A wooden sword came flying from behind and embedded itself at Seong Muyeon’s feet. He barely managed to halt in time.

‘There’s not much time left.’

Jang Hansu, who had hurled the sword, was already rising to his feet. His junior lay unconscious and sprawled across the ground.

“I’ll kill… you…”

While not on Baek Ryeoil’s level, Jang Hansu was still a formidable second-generation disciple. And someone in a state of qi deviation exhibited strength far beyond their usual capabilities—because they charged in without any regard for their own body.

And now, that terrifying force was entirely directed at Seong Muyeon.

“What’s going on…? What happened?”

To make matters worse, a group of young disciples had heard the commotion and were running down the alley toward them.

“Don’t come! Run away!”

Seong Muyeon waved his arms frantically, but the children, failing to grasp the situation, tilted their heads in confusion and continued to approach.

‘What kind of education does this sect give its kids?!’

Even Seong Muyeon, treated like a grunt in the demonic cult, knew this much: if you couldn’t take down an opponent immediately and they entered qi deviation, you must retreat and wait for a senior to arrive.

It was something all sects taught as an annual lesson. But those boys hadn’t been here long enough to receive it.

‘Damn it, damn it! Someone, anyone, hurry!’

Seong Muyeon scanned his surroundings with desperation. But if anyone had been nearby, they would’ve shown up by now.

“Where do you think you’re running?!”

The fallen junior’s wooden swords were still scattered across the ground. Jang Hansu flicked one into the air with his toe, then launched it with a powerful kick.

Shweeee—!

Seong Muyeon rolled his body and narrowly avoided the flying sword. Before he could even get back on his feet, another one came crashing down.

One after another, over a dozen wooden swords came raining down, embedding themselves in the ground. It all happened in the blink of an eye.

“Ugh!”

He barely avoided any critical injuries, but one final sword grazed his shoulder before sticking into the earth.

Only then did the children grasp the seriousness of the situation and scurried back the way they came. Some tripped, others got tangled with each other—complete chaos.

Through the bobbing heads of the retreating kids, Baek Ryeoil came charging like a storm.

“Master! Hurry!”

Baek Ryeoil took in the sight of Seong Muyeon, then glanced at the staggering Jang Hansu behind him. Realizing the situation, he unsheathed his sword.

‘…I’m saved.’

Relief washed over Seong Muyeon.

For all his flaws, no one was as dependable as Baek Ryeoil. Now he could take control of the situation—

Sring.

The cold metallic sound of a real blade being drawn made Seong Muyeon’s skin crawl.

Shweeeeee—!

A chilling sound of slicing air came from behind. Seong Muyeon instinctively turned his head.

Jang Hansu’s real sword gleamed as it flew straight at him.

Packed with deadly sword energy, the blade cut through the air with precision and power, incomparable to the earlier wooden swords.

‘I have to dodge—!’

Just as he twisted his body to evade, Seong Muyeon realized—there were still children behind him. If he moved out of the way, they would be in danger. Baek Ryeoil wasn’t close enough to protect them yet.

His eyes met Baek Ryeoil’s, who was rapidly closing the distance.

The course of action was already decided.

‘That’s right.’

He rapidly summoned his internal energy.

He pulled the wooden sword embedded at his feet.

‘This time…’

Clang!

The movement of blocking the steel blade was fluid as water.

‘…I’m not alone.’

The moment the wooden sword and the steel blade collided, the wooden one shattered into countless pieces that scattered into the air.

Before the now-powerless sword could even hit the ground, a silhouette darted past it, stirring the wind.

Seong Muyeon’s hair floated weightlessly in the air.

In the next moment, both Jang Hansu and Seong Muyeon collapsed to the ground.

Thud…

“Huff…”

A tremendous shock struck Seong Muyeon’s body.

Thump… thump. thump. thump.

THUMP!

Each beat of his heart, now ten times louder, pounded through his body mercilessly.

“Hansu!”

“Senior Jang!”

People began to gather and swarmed around Jang Hansu. As everyone rushed to him, only one person—Baek Ryeoil—walked against the current of bodies.

One step. Then another.

Seong Muyeon sat alone, clutching his chest, when he noticed black leather shoes appear before him. He didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

“There’s no other choice now…”

Seong Muyeon coughed up blood-tinged phlegm and, catching his breath, barely managed a smile.

“Fine. Damn it, let’s do it.”

No one paid them any attention. No one even noticed when Baek Ryeoil carried the fallen Seong Muyeon away.

Even deep into the night, the fires of Hwasan remained lit.

The medical hall was brightly illuminated. A disciple in qi deviation would receive meticulous care throughout the night to recover without any lasting side effects.

A little farther from that bright glow—

Inside a dark room within Chwijungjae, a single candle flickered.

After lighting the candle, Baek Ryeoil turned around.

Seong Muyeon lay curled up on the bed, trembling violently. Despite shaking, he was drenched in sweat—it was unclear whether he was cold or hot.

“……”

While one person received the devoted care of their master and elders, another had to suffer alone in a dark room.

How many nights had he survived in this position?

And why was Baek Ryeoil hesitating so much?

“What are you doing? Cough… Don’t tell me you’ve lost your appetite now. That’d be a problem. As you can see, I’m on the verge of death here.”

“Hey…”

From the darkness, Seong Muyeon let out a labored breath.

And in a small but unmistakable voice, he whispered,

“Please help me.”

Help me.

At those words, Baek Ryeoil finally calmed. All distractions and doubts melted away.

He slowly stepped toward the bed.

Seong Muyeon, who had kept his head lowered the entire time, looked up. With the candlelight behind him, Baek Ryeoil’s face was hard to make out.

‘No… maybe my vision’s just gone blurry.’

It didn’t matter either way. Whatever expression he wore—whether he liked it or not—Seong Muyeon needed him desperately. His entire body was trembling. The pain was unbearable.

‘Hah…’

〈It’s only a temporary measure. Push too hard, and your condition will end up even worse than before.〉

That was what the Sword Master had said.

‘So that’s what he meant.’

He’d done a decent job of managing his body until now. But this was the first time the symptoms had grown this severe.

It was the kind of pain that might inspire fear of death. But to Seong Muyeon, death had always been like a lifelong companion. This wasn’t enough to make him despair.

‘It’s nothing to despair over.’

In this moment, how lucky he was—to have someone nearby who could solve the problem.

He raised his trembling hand and untied his sash.

Slip.

His robes dropped away, revealing his emaciated shoulders. A thin line of blood trickled down where the wooden sword had grazed him.

“You… You do know how to do this, right?”

Seong Muyeon asked with forced composure.

Baek Ryeoil didn’t answer. Without revealing a hint of emotion, he leaned over the bed.