HDCLSSRS Ch 148

Chapter 148 Awakening(4)

Jang Hansu crouched down and touched the nearest corpse.

“…Still warm. It hasn’t been long.”

He lifted his gaze toward Seong Muyeon.

“Are you certain Young Master Jegal passed through here just now?”

Muyeon nodded grimly. The air grew thick with silence.

Jang Hansu began walking among the pools of blood, examining each body with meticulous care. Every martial art leaves its own distinct mark — the shape of a wound, the depth of a cut, the residue of inner energy. And the older, more established the lineage, the more recognizable those traces became.

He was trying to read the scene through those marks, to see whose blade had brought death.

Muyeon also knelt beside a fallen Wudang disciple. The man’s body was soaked in blood, but there was no single, clear wound to explain his death.

“Young Master Muyeon? Are you all right?”

Bang Gyeom’s voice rang out as Muyeon flinched and drew his hand back — a sharp sting cutting across his palm. Blood welled up where a fine edge had sliced him.

Muyeon frowned and leaned closer to inspect. Tilting his head, he finally noticed the faint glint of metal buried deep in the corpse’s chest — a needle-thin blade catching what little light the torch offered.

Jang Hansu approached swiftly and pulled it out with care. The weapon was slender and delicate, more like a thread of steel than a sword.

“…Jegal Un’s iron wire.”

That alone was proof enough. The man who killed them was Jegal Un.

Muyeon said nothing. He simply wrapped his bleeding hand with a strip of cloth, face set in cold resolve.

“We need to go deeper,” Jang Hansu said. Then, turning sharply: “Yangha Pavilion Master — where are you going?”

“Wh-what? Me?”

They all looked up. The pavilion master was halfway up the stairs, poised to bolt.

“Ah— I, uh… I was just going to alert the others! I’ll be right back!”

Muyeon could’ve bet his life savings that the man was trying to flee to save his own skin.

Jang Hansu seized him by the collar.

“You know this place’s layout well. You’ll guide us.”

The pavilion master’s face turned ashen, but Hansu ignored his misery and looked to Muyeon.

“Young Master Muyeon, send someone to bring reinforcements.”

Muyeon nodded stiffly and turned to Bang Gyeom, who was standing uncertainly to the side.

“You heard him. Go — tell everyone what happened here.”

“Yes, understood.”

Muyeon hesitated, watching Hansu busy wrapping the iron thread before he reached out and caught Bang Gyeom’s sleeve — his eyes flicking up, silent but firm.

Don’t come back.

Bang Gyeom’s eyes widened, but Muyeon’s sharp glare silenced any protest.

Things were already spiraling.

Jegal Un hadn’t even tried to hide the bodies — hadn’t covered his tracks or erased the evidence. If they hadn’t found that single iron filament, anyone could’ve been blamed. And the first suspects would undoubtedly be Seong Muyeon and Bang Gyeom, the outsiders.

Even if I’m accused, I can talk my way out. But Bang Gyeom… he won’t be so lucky.

Even Hansu, who witnessed everything, might not vouch for them.

“Go,” Muyeon urged again, shoving him toward the stairs.

Bang Gyeom hesitated, then clenched his jaw and ran.

“…The door won’t open,” Seomun Yuha called. He was pushing at the entrance Jegal Un had used, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Locked?” Muyeon asked, approaching.

From the corner, the pavilion master piped up nervously, “It’s useless! The Central Hall is tightly sealed with the Jegal Clan’s secret mechanisms! Especially the back door — only authorized members can open it! We’ll have to go through the front—”

Before he could finish, the door clicked and slid open.

Yuha blinked. “It’s a sliding door, not a latch.”

Jang Hansu clicked his tongue, unimpressed, while Yuha scratched the back of his head sheepishly. The pavilion master, however, gaped in horror.

“H-how did you open it?!”

Muyeon shrugged lightly. “It just opened. I suppose Young Master Jegal forgot to lock it.”

“That… that’s impossible…” the man whispered, panic creeping into his voice.

“…If he truly is the spy, and he’s killed these people, aren’t we too few to confront him?” the pavilion master stammered. “Shouldn’t we wait for reinforcements?”

“He could destroy the evidence while we wait,” Hansu replied.

“I-I’m still recovering from my injuries—”

Hansu grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck and shoved him through the door. The pavilion master yelped, stumbling forward as Hansu’s expression hardened with disgust.

“Are you two coming?” he asked over his shoulder.

Yuha rolled his eyes. “Of course we are. After coming all this way, you expect us to turn back? Right, Young Master Muyeon?”

“It may be dangerous,” Hansu warned. “Especially for you, Seong Muyeon—”

“I’ll protect him!” Yuha cut in sharply, bristling with indignation. Then, just as quickly, his tone softened; he turned to Muyeon with a warm, almost dazzling smile. “You trust me, right?”

His lashes fluttered, eyes shining with conviction. Muyeon couldn’t bring himself to disappoint him.

“…Of course.”

“Then let’s go!”

Hansu sighed and strode toward the passage. Muyeon followed — his curiosity burning too hot to suppress. Why had Jegal Un done this? What could he possibly gain?

And besides, with Seomun Yuha’s Huajeong Valley talent, they could probably avoid most traps.

But the danger ahead was of a kind no charm could ward off.

The moment they stepped inside, both Muyeon and Yuha froze.

The underground chamber stretched vast and deep, the ceiling covered in a lattice of crisscrossing beams like a woven go board. The same pattern spread across the floor, where countless intricate traps waited — hidden weapons, pressure plates, and glinting blades all poised to strike.

Reaching the center, where the Spirit Seal was kept, meant threading through this deadly maze. The air itself felt heavy — thick with killing intent. One wrong step could trigger a volley of arrows… or something worse.

Muyeon swallowed hard.

“Pavilion Master — I hope you at least know something about these traps.”

Jang Hansu shoved the trembling man forward. The pavilion master crouched near the first set of mechanisms, muttering nervously as he inspected them.

“See any signs of movement?” Hansu asked sharply.

The man hesitated. “The traps…”

“What about them?”

“They’re… all disabled.”

He said it with certainty.

Hansu stepped forward, testing the edge of the lattice floor. For a moment, they waited — but nothing happened.

Indeed, the traps were silent.

“It’s safe,” Hansu said. “Let’s go.”

He dragged the pavilion master along, leading the way without hesitation. Muyeon and Yuha followed close behind.

“The Spirit Seal should be in the center,” Hansu said. “We have to stop him before he escapes with it.”

The passage twisted and turned like a labyrinth. Walls rose high, and sharp blades jutted unpredictably, forcing them to detour again and again. Anyone careless would lose their sense of direction almost immediately.

Yet Hansu pressed on with unerring precision, as if guided by instinct.

Muyeon couldn’t shake the feeling that the silence around them was wrong. It was too still — the kind of stillness that comes before a storm.

After what felt like an eternity, the corridor opened into a vast square chamber. In the center stood a narrow stone pedestal — and atop it, encased in a dark wooden box, lay the Spirit Seal.

And beside it—

“…There,” the pavilion master whispered.

They saw Jegal Un. He was lifting the box.

“Young Master,” Hansu said coldly, stepping forward and drawing his sword. “Put the Spirit Seal back.”

Jegal Un turned his head slightly, meeting Hansu’s glare without flinching.

“It’s over,” Hansu continued. “Don’t waste your strength. Surrender quietly.”

Jegal Un’s gaze drifted over the others — past Hansu, to the pavilion master, to Seomun Yuha, and finally to Seong Muyeon. Yuha instinctively shifted to shield Muyeon from view.

They stood in tense silence, breath held.

Muyeon’s brow furrowed. Something about Jegal Un felt… off.

Even exposed, even surrounded, he showed no fear, no anger — no emotion at all.

His eyes were utterly void.

And then—

The pavilion master suddenly turned on his heel and bolted.