HDCLSSRS Ch 17
by berryChapter 17 A Humble Man in a Noble Place (2)
* * *
Disciple of the Great Huashan(Mount Hua) Sect, Ma Jincheon, sensed the return of his pupil the moment the sect became rowdy. Sure enough, Baek Ryeoil flung the doors open and strode in, never failing to meet expectations.
“Ryeoil, what trouble have you stirred up this time?”
Ma Jincheon asked without even turning around.
“Trouble? Please, look what I’ve brought back!”
Ma Jincheon was confident by now that nothing Baek Ryeoil shoved in front of his face could surprise him anymore. If he set his mind to it, the boy could probably capture a dragon soaring through the skies.
But this time, despite his certainty that nothing Baek Ryeoil did could shock him, Ma Jincheon could only gape.
Baek Ryeoil triumphantly held out… a person.
“Master! I! Caught the Demon Cult Leader’s son!”
The young man’s cheeks were sunken, his under-eyes dark and hollow—he looked like he was on the verge of death.
Once again, Ma Jincheon found himself in awe of his disciple’s antics, which chilled his insides.
“You little rascal! How could you bring back a person—! Wait. Did you just say… the Demon Cult Leader’s son?”
With trembling eyes, Ma Jincheon scrutinized the man. Aside from the pale complexion, his appearance made him look more like the successor of the Beggars’ Sect than the son of the Demon Cult Leader.
“Ugh!”
The man abruptly clutched his mouth and darted outside, bending over deep into a patch of grass. And then…
“Blaaaargh!”
“……”
“……”
After hurling everything out of his stomach, the man returned—strangely enough—with a glint of clarity in his eyes.
“Ah, apologies. I tend to get motion sickness.”
He politely folded his hands.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Sword Saint Ma Jincheon. My name is Seong Muyeon.”
“……Is that true? You’re really the son of the Demon Cult Leader…?”
Seong Muyeon bowed his head even deeper.
“Yes. My father is Cult Leader Seong Hyeokgwang, and I am his seventh son.”
“……”
Ma Jincheon grabbed the back of his neck.
News of the Demon Cult prince’s appearance sent Huashan into an uproar. All the senior members were immediately summoned to convene. The round assembly hall filled with middle-aged men, their hair streaked with grey.
“What is the meaning of this! How could the Demonic Cult set foot in our sacred sect!”
“Such an atrocity…!”
“Who is responsible for this outrageous act!”
Just as Ma Jincheon, standing among the elder masters, tried to slip quietly backward…
“It was me.”
Baek Ryeoil stepped forward boldly and raised his hand.
“Of course. Who else but that Baek Ryeoil brat.”
The sharp stares of the elders turned toward Ma Jincheon, who shrank his neck like a turtle.
At the center of the hall, Seong Muyeon stood with his hands bound, watching the commotion. During his transfer here, someone had tightly tied his wrists. He looked every bit like a notorious criminal.
“Silence, all of you!”
The eldest-looking elder shouted, calming the crowd. He swept his gaze around the room before speaking again.
“Second-generation disciple Baek Ryeoil, step forward.”
Baek Ryeoil came down to stand beside Seong Muyeon.
“Baek Ryeoil, the Sect Leader trusts and cherishes you. I cannot believe you did this thoughtlessly. As the elder acting on behalf of the Sect Leader, I ask you: What is the reason you brought the Demon Cult prince here?”
“Well, that is… I mean…”
Baek Ryeoil opened his mouth, rubbed his chin, paused to think, and then answered with a bright smile, as if he’d given up.
“No reason.”
“Ugh.”
The first elder clutched the back of his neck and collapsed.
“You rascal! Can’t you give a proper answer! There must be a reason you brought him!”
The second elder, catching the fallen elder, scolded fiercely.
“There really is no reason?”
“Ugh!”
As the second elder also collapsed, the flustered Ma Jincheon ran forward.
“I-I deeply apologize, elders… It’s all my fault for raising him so poorly… You little brat!”
“Ah! Don’t hit me!”
“I’m sorry! So sorry!”
Ma Jincheon kept bowing in all directions, and the elders raised their voices with bulging neck veins. Someone shouted to fetch the medicine hall master to help the collapsed elders.
The assembly hall had become…
“…a complete mess?”
Seong Muyeon murmured to Baek Ryeoil.
“You’re telling me.”
Baek Ryeoil, the very cause of this chaos, casually cleaned his ears like it wasn’t his problem.
‘Damn lunatic…’
Seong Muyeon figured it was time to step in.
“Excuse me! May I say something?”
He tried to raise one hand, but since both were bound, he ended up lifting both and shouting. Yet no one paid attention to him.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry! I’ll train him properly…”
“You’ve brought disgrace to Huashan!”
“Ancestors, forgive us!”
“……”
‘They call themselves a grand sect, but everything’s just chaotic here too.’
Thud—!
A loud thump rang out nearby. The hall immediately fell silent. As everyone looked around, they quickly located the source.
Baek Ryeoil had struck the floor vertically with his sheathed sword. As all attention turned to him, he gestured toward Seong Muyeon with a tilt of his head.
“He says he’s got something to say.”
Though two or three more elders collapsed clutching their necks, Seong Muyeon cleared his throat and stepped forward.
The elders all fixed him with grim expressions. Some even reached toward their waistbands, ready to react instantly.
A tense silence gripped the hall—until Seong Muyeon shattered it.
“My, I see I’ve startled you all so early in the morning! That wasn’t my intention, I promise. I apologize for the trouble. Please, everyone, calm down. Hehe.”
“……”
“……”
The flirtatious tone and gestures left the elders flustered as they glanced at each other.
Seong Muyeon added another line.
“Let me first make clear that I have no political agenda.”
“……”
A hush fell over the room.
“You are the Cult Leader’s son. How can you claim to have no agenda?”
The first elder, having recovered, asked suspiciously. Seong Muyeon nodded.
“Of course, it sounds suspicious! I get it. I’d doubt me too if I were you. After all the suffering the martial world’s endured because of the Demon Cult—always aiming for domination, constantly stirring trouble—it’s no wonder just hearing ‘Ma’ (Demon) gives people headaches. You’re probably wondering what trick I’m pulling now!”
Some elders nodded in agreement.
“Exactly! But I! Today! Did not come here to torment you!”
Seong Muyeon shouted, his voice backed by strength from his lower abdomen.
“I only came here to cling to the great Huashan Sect!”
Murmurs spread through the hall.
“…That’s nothing to brag about.”
Baek Ryeoil muttered, but Seong Muyeon ignored him and stepped forward again.
“Yes, I am the Cult Leader’s son—but the seventh. On top of that, I have no talent for martial arts and couldn’t even learn any demonic techniques. That’s the honest truth, and you’re free to verify it. You can’t imagine how hard it is to survive as the weak one in a brutal place like the Demon Cult.”
He mimed wiping away nonexistent tears with his sleeve.
“…You truly have not learned demonic arts? May we verify?”
“Of course! Go ahead!”
One elder stepped down and placed a hand on Seong Muyeon’s shoulder. Seong Muyeon obediently let the elder channel internal energy into his acupoints, circulating it once through his meridians.
“…It’s true. This man has not learned any demonic arts.”
“That can’t be.”
The greatest issue with the Demon Cult was their unique martial arts—“demonic arts.” Whereas orthodox martial arts emphasized inner struggle and self-cultivation, demonic arts were inherently harmful to others. Though each sect differed, those who mastered demonic arts to their extremes typically succumbed to “demonic transformation,” losing their will and becoming murderous fiends.
That was why the Demon Cult was reviled. If Seong Muyeon hadn’t learned demonic arts, there was no justifiable reason to cast him out.
Taking advantage of the elders’ unease, Seong Muyeon raised his voice again.
“Right now, I’ve not only been disowned by my father, I’m being hunted down by my third brother! I’ve heard that Huashan is the first to raise its sword in defense of the weak and helpless! That’s why I came here, shameless as it is. I apologize for causing such turmoil.”
Seong Muyeon bowed deeply.
“I know full well what a vile place I come from. But if you would grant me a chance, I would be forever grateful. And if not, I will harbor no resentment. Sob.”
Pretending to cry into his sleeve, Seong Muyeon accidentally locked eyes with Baek Ryeoil, whose jaw was hanging open.