HDCLSSRS Ch 31

Chapter 31 It Wasn’t on Purpose (4)

 

“That fool. He’s going to get himself killed.”

Honestly, pride doesn’t put food on the table.

“Seventh Young Master!”

Somewhere, Ilgwang flew in.

“What is going on? Baek Ryeoil, all of a sudden…! For him to chase us all the way here—what a persistent man.”

“Indeed.”

“Second Young Master is dealing with him. We should retreat for now.”

Ilgwang reached out his arm, but Seong Muyeon struck it away.

“I’m not going. You go.”

“Seventh Young Master! This isn’t the time for that!”

Seong Muyeon narrowed his eyes and stared at the two figures fighting in the distance. At this rate, Seong Muryong was going to die.

“Haa… This is the one thing I really didn’t want to do.”

“Sorry? What do you mean…?”

Seong Muyeon swiftly snatched the sword hanging from Ilgwang’s waist. A flustered Ilgwang tried to retrieve his weapon, but Seong Muyeon somehow slipped out of his grasp with surprising finesse.

“Seventh Young Master?”

“My second brother must not die here.”

Seong Muryong needed to return safely to the Demonic Sect and take part in the succession battle. The remaining sons of the Sect Leader had to continue their long, drawn-out struggle, weakening the sect’s power by consuming each other’s forces.

Seong Muyeon steadied his breath and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, a surge of internal energy—unlike anything he had ever known—enveloped his body.

“S-Seventh Young Master?”

Ilgwang doubted his senses. Just moments ago, the frail, insignificant Seventh Young Master now radiated an overwhelming presence, on par with Second Young Master Seong Muryong himself.

Impossible.

This couldn’t be real.

“Ilgwang, keep your eyes open. When the time is right, take the Second Young Master and the others and return to the sect.”

Ilgwang felt his knees go weak just from receiving Seong Muyeon’s gaze and barely managed to stay upright.

“T-Then… what about you, Seventh Young Master?”

“You want the Second Young Master to die? He’s no match for Baek Ryeoil. I’ll handle the rest. Just shut up and do as I say.”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

Every word he spoke carried an irrefutable authority that Ilgwang could not resist.

Thud!

Seong Muyeon launched himself into the air. With a single leap, he soared upward, inhaling the crisp night air into his lungs. The air carried the scent of the season—clean and bracing.

For the first time in a long while, he felt liberated. The surging energy flowing from his danjeon(core) coursed through his meridians, stimulating and strengthening every muscle.

‘Let’s end this quickly.’

He couldn’t sustain this state for long.

But for now, this sensation of freedom and release was undeniably real.

Seong Muyeon kicked through the empty air. The battlefield where Baek Ryeoil and Seong Muryong fought rapidly closed in.

Baek Ryeoil raised his sword, imbued with internal energy. Seong Muyeon widened his eyes. The red aura of energy, far beyond mere sword force, surged toward Seong Muryong.

It was a power capable of rending space itself. Seong Muryong hastily gathered energy to defend himself, but it was clear his shield wouldn’t hold.

That strike would kill him.

But—

Seong Muyeon wasn’t about to let that happen.

He kicked off once more. His form seemed to stretch like molten taffy as he instantly closed the distance.

Just before Baek Ryeoil’s attack could tear into Seong Muryong’s body, Seong Muyeon’s blade intercepted it. As the opposing forces clashed, a thunderous explosion erupted.

BOOM—!

Seong Muryong couldn’t withstand the shockwave and was flung back, crashing into the ground. A startled Baek Ryeoil barely clung to the curved rooftop of the inn.

Scanning sharply, Baek Ryeoil spotted the one who had interfered. Upon recognizing him, his eyes widened in disbelief.

“Seong Muyeon…!”

Seong Muyeon had also been hit by the force but had spun midair to disperse it and landed on the rooftop of the tallest nearby building.

Baek Ryeoil ground his teeth.

“You… you lied to me again.”

Wreathed in blue internal energy, Seong Muyeon responded calmly.

“Yes. I deceived you.”

He glanced down briefly. Seeing Ilgwang lifting the unconscious Seong Muryong onto his back, he turned his eyes away. Even in that short moment, Baek Ryeoil noticed and tensed to strike the finishing blow.

But Seong Muyeon rushed in and swung his sword, forcing Baek Ryeoil to turn his attention away from the Second Young Master.

As they exchanged blows, Seong Muyeon keenly felt the force behind Baek Ryeoil’s power. With every clash, his sword vibrated painfully in his hand.

“Your acting really is something else.”

Baek Ryeoil muttered with gritted teeth. Seong Muyeon had no time to respond, too focused on defending himself. He couldn’t afford to drag this out.

He swung with all his might in a wide arc. The attack, infused with internal energy, roared toward Baek Ryeoil.

But Baek Ryeoil scoffed and easily deflected it. The stray energy shredded the inn’s roof.

By then, Seong Muyeon had already turned and retreated. Baek Ryeoil’s eyes flared.

“Seong Muyeon!”

His lion’s roar tore through the air.

Seong Muyeon leapt across rooftops, quickly distancing himself from the town center. He didn’t stop until he reached a nearby low mountain ridge.

“Haa… haaa…”

Panting heavily, Seong Muyeon had barely caught his breath when Baek Ryeoil arrived without warning.

KA-BOOM!

In the blink of an eye, Baek Ryeoil was right in front of him.

“Urgh…”

Seong Muyeon barely managed to raise his sword. The force pressing down on him from above grew stronger. He gritted his teeth and held on as his heels dug into the earth.

“I was a fool to trust you. What else are you hiding? No matter. This time, you won’t escape with any trick, Seong Muyeon.”

“Ugh…!”

Baek Ryeoil poured even more strength into his strike. Seong Muyeon’s knees were on the verge of buckling.

“Say something!”

Up close, Baek Ryeoil didn’t seem angry—he looked… sad? Was it just an illusion?

He shouted something more, but Seong Muyeon couldn’t hear it. The taste of blood filled his mouth. He was at his limit.

“You underestimate me…”

Baek Ryeoil’s pupils constricted. Blood streamed from Seong Muyeon’s ears, nose, and mouth.

Cough! Cough!

Unable to hold back, Seong Muyeon coughed violently, splattering crimson blood all over Baek Ryeoil’s chest and collar.

Seong Muyeon collapsed. Baek Ryeoil threw his sword aside and caught him just before his knees hit the ground.

“W-What…? Why…?”

Seong Muyeon no longer had the strength to hold his sword. It slipped from his hand with a soft clatter.

Only then did Baek Ryeoil realize—Seong Muyeon’s previously overwhelming energy had vanished entirely. His pale face and swordless form were exactly as he remembered him.

As if that tremendous power had been an illusion.

“Seong Muyeon! Get a hold of yourself!”

With a faint effort, Seong Muyeon cracked open his eyes.

“It’s nothing. I just… drew out my energy… and… cough! Cough!”

“You’re dying? Are you dying?!”

His other hand hovered helplessly in the air. He felt like he should do something—anything—but had no idea where to begin.

“…Cough, I’m not dying.”

Baek Ryeoil’s ashen face relaxed slightly.

“Not yet.”

“What!”

“I’m sorry, but could you speak more quietly? My head hurts.”

“O-Okay…”

Still holding Seong Muyeon, Baek Ryeoil carefully lowered them both. Seong Muyeon stretched his legs and caught his breath.

His condition was appalling. His clothes were disheveled, soaked with blood, and he bled from five different places.

Baek Ryeoil was at a loss, fidgeting like a nervous puppy, his eyes darting anxiously. But no matter how much he fretted, he had no idea what to do.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.”

After a long silence, Seong Muyeon finally spoke. Baek Ryeoil’s face contorted.

“That’s what you have to say? Why are you coughing up blood like that? When—no, the elder said you’d never practiced demonic arts…”

“It’s not demonic arts.”

Seong Muyeon slowly sat up. He felt dizzy, but he managed. He wiped the unpleasant liquid from his face with his sleeve.

“I can’t learn demonic arts. I’ve never even tried. I don’t know about proper martial arts, but demonic arts quickly destroy the body and mind. I was born with severed meridians. If things got any worse, I’d die before I even formed a danjeon.”

“Severed meridians…? Why didn’t you say anything earlier!”

Baek Ryeoil shouted sharply, and Seong Muyeon shouted back.

“Because I didn’t want to!”

Having yelled, Seong Muyeon coughed violently again. Baek Ryeoil sighed and pulled out a flask from his sleeve. It smelled of alcohol. He unwrapped his armguard, soaked it in liquor, and started wiping Seong Muyeon’s face.

Seong Muyeon didn’t have the strength to resist and let him do as he pleased.