HDCLSSRS Ch 125

Chapter 125 The Third Prince (1)

“Ah, the Fourth…”

Seong Muguk spoke as if reminiscing casually, his fingers brushing along the rim of a round table in the center of the room, as though he were on some idle stroll.

“The Fourth was truly excellent material. From childhood he ate only the rarest elixirs bestowed by the Cult and possessed an exquisite constitution to begin with. Just like that Namgung Cheonchu you once smuggled away.”

…Namgung Cheonchu!

Muyeon’s pupils contracted sharply.

“Did you intend to turn Namgung Cheonchu into an orb as well—slaughter him as you did our Fourth Brother?”

“It seems our Sixth unearthed more than I thought,” Muguk replied. “Yes. Had you not killed Heo Jimyeong and ruined that branch hall, Cheonchu would already be in my grasp.”

“…”

“If you fear punishment for such a thing,” Muguk continued mildly, “rest easy. I am not so petty as to be angered by a younger sibling’s little prank.”

His words mimicked brotherly warmth, but his eyes and expression were utterly devoid of it. Like a man wearing clothes that did not fit—unsettling, not laughable, but chilling.

So Mujai had been correct: Muguk’s path was to seize the inner strength of others by force. In the original tale, he had risen to Cult Leader by doing just that—stealing cultivation from his own kin.

“You’ve seen the orb, haven’t you? Beautiful, isn’t it? All of Fourth Brother’s life’s cultivation distilled into that single jewel. Such material is rare indeed. But then the Sixth absconded with it…”

Muguk clicked his tongue.

“And so I came myself. The Ghostslayers were to stall and recover it; if they failed, I would act directly. And what do I find here? My youngest brother.”

His smile deepened.

“I came today to see you, Seong Muyeon.”

At last Muyeon understood—the Ghostslayers had never been meant to win. Their battles were a diversion, giving Muguk free path to him, without interference.

But why?

“…Do you mean to kill me? As you should know, Brother, my life is worth little. Even if you formed an orb from my body, it would have almost no value.”

Compared to the Fourth, compared to Namgung Cheonchu, compared to anyone—Muyeon was the weakest of them all. Even now his life hung precarious.

“Kill you? Hardly.”

Muguk shook his head slowly, extending his hand with the faintest smile.

“Come with me. Together, we shall not only rule the Cult, but dominate all under heaven.”

…What?

“Only you are worthy to share that glory with me.”

Muyeon felt his mind reel. Was he hearing correctly? For one heartbeat he doubted his own ears.

“You’re surprised? Of course. I would be too,” Muguk said, pacing the room.

“You wonder: why speak such words to you—sickly, ignored, useless? Let me ask you in return: we are seven brothers. Did you ever feel truly family with any of them?”

“…What are you saying?”

“I did. And then I realized—all of them, the First, the Second… none stood shoulder to shoulder with me. None but one. You. Seong Muyeon.”

“….”

“That night—you came bloodied to the banquet hall. That night I knew: we are the same kind. Of the same breed.”

Muyeon froze. The trembling in his body stilled completely. Muguk, seeing the shift, looked satisfied.

Yes, twice in one day his past came to haunt him. Strange fate indeed.

“Since then, I have watched you. To be head of any great house—be it Cult, Wudang, Zhuge—requires more than power; leadership demands strength and burden in equal measure. To rule all the Central Plains can never be done alone. But with a brother—my brother—beside me, sharing the weight, the task becomes possible.”

“…”

“But Muyeon, your steps since then have sorely disappointed me,” Muguk frowned faintly.

“When your illness was revealed, you hid. You let lesser men mock you, trample you, and you did nothing. How disappointing. Yet who would have thought?”

The faintest smile tugged at his lips.

“That suddenly, you would act. Wipe out Branch Chief Heo Jimyeong without hesitation. Kill Officer Wirim. With that fragile body—without flinching. That, youngest brother, I did not miss.”

Muyeon’s glare tightened.

“Yes, false virtue can mar the path. A hypocrite cannot aid me. But you—you are not that. I was right about you. Come. Stand by me. Let us conquer the Demon Realm together.”

By now, Muyeon could not restrain a bitter laugh.

“So you came here only for that?”

“‘Only’?”

“Brother, whether you drained Fourth to make your orb or committed whatever acts—you are no worse than I. I have done deeds unfit to speak of. But to rule the world? Look at me—I can barely master my own body. You’ve chosen the wrong man.”

If not for Muguk, he would already be on his way back to Mount Hua with the orb for Yakseon, the one person who might heal him. Instead—this interference.

“You don’t think I would take a man half-dead and make him my partner? Do you think I have no means to cure you?”

A low laugh purred from him.

“If you mean pills like the Mahon Shindan⁽²⁾…” Muyeon began.

“Eat the orb.”

“…What?”

“The weakness is your body. Swallow the orb, step into Flower Realm⁽³⁾ cultivation, cast off your frail shell—be reborn.”

“….”

He meant to grant him a new body—rebirth through devouring.

“…Forgive me, Brother. But I know well: even Fourth’s full life’s cultivation within that orb could not elevate anyone to the Flower Realm.”

“Then what of our Eldest Brother? Lacking still? What of our Second? Or Father himself? Even then, not enough?”

“…What are you suggesting?”

“And there is even an easier path. The ones battling outside—what of them? Elder Hyeonjin of Wudang. The Zhuge heir. Above all—the Unfeeling Sword of Mount Hua. Would those not suffice?”

The instant Ryeoil’s name left Muguk’s lips, Muyeon’s fists clenched unbidden. His pupils narrowed, jaw taut.

“I hear you’ve grown close to him. How much does he trust you? If you lured him in, you could have him so easily.”

“…No. I will not. I will never devour a man’s life, never drink an orb made of human blood. It sickens me.” Muyeon’s words grated low, every syllable bitten hard.

“Is it? If every life you’ve cut down had been refined, by now you’d not be speaking of Flower Realm—you’d stand in the Profound Realm already. Can you claim to be my better?”

“….”

Muyeon’s body shook with fury he could not unleash. If he had the strength, he would have ripped his brother’s throat out where he stood.

Muguk read the killing intent behind his eyes and only smiled faintly.

“You’ll need time. Think carefully. I’ll withdraw for now.”

“You—you won’t take the orb?” Muyeon stammered. Outside—his thoughts spiraled to Ryeoil, imagining catastrophe.

“Did I not say? I came tonight for you. The orb—I’ll leave it, a gift. But when next we meet, you had best have chosen.”

“…And if I refuse?”

Muguk’s voice fell like cold steel. “There are those even here who serve me. They would reclaim it easily enough. But I advise otherwise.”

“…Fine. Then please, just for tonight—leave.” His heart hammered with dread that Muguk and Ryeoil might clash. One exhausted, the other unfathomably strong—it could not end well.

“As for the others, though… those who dared covet what was mine will pay the price.”

“Brother—!”

“One last thing to remember, youngest.”

And like shadow dissolving into shadow, he slipped away, leaving only the final words.

“You will come to me in the end.”

Footnotes:

1. Yeongdan (영단, 靈丹) – “Spirit Core,” condensed inner power crystallized at death, here drawn by Muguk from his slain siblings.

2. Mahon Shindan (마혼신단, 魔魂神丹) – “Demon Soul Divine Pill,” a rare demonic elixir referenced earlier; highly dangerous.

3. Flower Realm (화경, 花境) – In wuxia/xianxia context, a cultivation stage above ordinary masters, roughly equivalent to rebirth and transcendence of mortal limits.