HDCLSSRS Ch 37

Chapter 37 Just This Once (5)

 

“Fine. I’ll duel you. Let’s go.”

“W-What? Right now?”

Baek Ryeoil grabbed Jang Hansu by the scruff of his neck and dragged him out. As the crowd poured out after them, Seong Muyeon awkwardly followed along.

Upon reaching the center of the courtyard, Baek Ryeoil roughly flung Jang Hansu to the ground.

“What’s the meaning of this? You said no.”

“Draw your sword.”

Baek Ryeoil unsheathed his sword from his waist and assumed the formal stance of salute—an official bow of respect signaling the start of a duel.

Jang Hansu quickly composed himself and returned the gesture with a nod of the head identical to Baek Ryeoil’s.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but you’d better brace yourself today.”

‘Oh dear…’

Seong Muyeon stood at the very back of the crowd, watching the duel unfold with a wistful expression.

Because he knew.

Boom!

“Gah!”

With a single strike, Jang Hansu was slammed to the ground.

‘You’ll never beat Baek Ryeoil, not in your entire life…’

Seong Muyeon covered his face.

He couldn’t bear to watch.

What followed was a one-sided beatdown.

Thwack! Thud!

“Argh! Ah!”

From the dull thuds, it sounded like Baek Ryeoil was striking with the flat of his blade or the hilt.

“W-Wait, stop! Argh!”

“Concede.”

“I-I yield! I yield!”

“Hmph.”

Baek Ryeoil turned away as if nothing had happened, completely unscathed. Sang Geol and his disciples stood dumbfounded, jaws agape as Baek Ryeoil approached.

“Are we done here?”

“……”

“……”

There had never been a duel so lopsided. Of course, Baek Ryeoil had always emerged victorious before, but only after dozens of exchanges. That gave the impression he could be overcome with enough effort.

This settled it.

Baek Ryeoil’s martial prowess was beyond reach, even for those within the same generation.

“H-How could this…”

Sang Geol turned to his senior with the look of a man who had just been swindled. Majincheon only offered a sheepish smile.

Seeing his expression, Seong Muyeon thought,

‘You finally figured it out, you idiot.’

…or so his expression seemed to say.

“Let’s go, Seong Muyeon.”

“Huh? Oh… right.”

Baek Ryeoil walked across the courtyard. Jang Hansu still lay sprawled in the middle, a pitiful sight. Without hesitation, Baek Ryeoil stepped right over him.

“Urgh!”

Jang Hansu glared up at Baek Ryeoil with murderous fury. He shot the same glare at Seong Muyeon, trailing behind him.

‘What did I even do?’

Being the considerate person he was, Seong Muyeon didn’t step on him. Instead, he carefully stepped over.

He heard grinding teeth behind him.

Seong Muyeon mourned silently in his heart.

‘You’d better get used to it…’

Even when he later earned great merit and the title of “One-Man Army,” Jang Hansu would forever trail in Baek Ryeoil’s shadow. If he couldn’t beat him anyway, wouldn’t it be better to accept it with grace?

“Hurry up!”

“Coming!”

What Seong Muyeon didn’t know—

Was the storm this incident would set in motion.

After that day, Baek Ryeoil got busy.

Countless people, eager to test his strength, requested duels nonstop.

“Ugh, how annoying!”

Baek Ryeoil would peek out the window, and the moment he saw Majincheon or anyone else approaching the courtyard, he’d bolt out the back door. But he was always caught and dragged back.

Watching this, Seong Muyeon sighed with pity.

‘That’s what you get for not living kindly.’

He shook his head and sipped his tea.

Just stepping out of Chwijungjae, he could spot second-generation disciples who had taken beatings from Baek Ryeoil scattered around the sect grounds.

Even knowing full well they’d get thrashed, people lined up for a chance to try and land a hit.

‘Martial artists, honestly…’

He truly didn’t understand them.

With more time on his hands, Seong Muyeon was on his way back from the archive hall alone.

He stepped into a quiet alley.

“Well, look who it is. Isn’t it the demonic cult’s little lord?”

Two men stood in the middle of the alley. It was none other than Jang Hansu—still bruised from his recent humiliation—and another disciple whose name Seong Muyeon didn’t know.

“Where are you off to?”

Their tone and demeanor were laced with hostility.

Word of Jang Hansu’s crushing defeat at Baek Ryeoil’s hands had spread throughout Hwasan, so he had every reason to be in a foul mood. He hadn’t liked Seong Muyeon from the beginning either.

Seong Muyeon merely gave a curt nod and tried to pass.

Tap.

“I asked where you’re going.”

Jang Hansu extended an arm to block his path. The alley was narrow enough for only three or four adults to pass side-by-side. As Seong Muyeon tried to squeeze past, Jang Hansu casually moved to trap him against the wall.

With a weary sigh, Seong Muyeon asked,

“Is there something you want from me?”

The two exchanged a laugh.

“Haha! Did you hear that, junior? He wants to know what we want.”

“Indeed, senior! Hahaha!”

Their laughter abruptly vanished.

“A lowly demonic brat, acting all high and mighty.”

“……”

“You must’ve enjoyed the show, huh? Watching me get humiliated by my senior?”

Not at all. Seong Muyeon wasn’t some sadist who enjoyed others being beaten. But saying that now would do no good.

Jang Hansu wasn’t interested in the truth—he was venting his inferiority complex.

“Wandering around without Baek Ryeoil? That’s a bit careless, don’t you think? This is enemy territory, after all. And you’re a demonic cultist.”

“I don’t want trouble. Just let me go.”

“What trouble? The world’s not going to end if something happens to scum like you. What kind of person are you, huh?”

“……”

I should’ve just stayed in my room.

“Tell me. How did you worm your way into Baek Ryeoil’s trust? What about the sect leader? I just don’t get it. How does someone like you get to sit in a sacred place of the Tao? Isn’t that right, junior?”

“Absolutely. Senior’s right. Out there, someone is dying to the demonic cult even now.”

“So shameless.”

Jang Hansu sneered, eyes bloodshot despite his smile.

“You people took my father away. Yours did.”

“……”

“He died fighting the demonic cult.”

So it wasn’t just an inferiority complex toward Baek Ryeoil after all.

Seong Muyeon had known this—Jang Hansu bore a personal grudge against the cult. Who didn’t? Here, the demonic cult was the enemy of all.

His mouth tasted bitter. Surrounded by people like Baek Ryeoil and the sect leader who treated him kindly, he must’ve deluded himself.

‘I have no place here.’

“Your father’s about to die too, right? Mine died in some distant land, on cold, hard ground. And that bastard gets to die in his own home, on a warm bed, surrounded by family? How is that fair? Doesn’t that piss you off?”

Jang Hansu’s eyes glinted with madness.

“If you had a shred of decency—if you were even remotely human—you wouldn’t just let that slide!”

The One-Man Army, Jang Hansu.

Seong Muyeon knew he wasn’t a bad person. He’d grow into a great hero one day, once he matured.

Even now, he wasn’t really yelling at the wrong person. Beneath the anger was unmistakable sorrow—a longing for the family he’d lost.

“…What do you want me to do?”

Seong Muyeon responded softly.

But he shouldn’t have.

He should’ve ignored him and walked away.

A strange light flickered in Jang Hansu’s eyes.

“I didn’t want it to come to this, but I’m just so angry.”

He glanced around. His junior was carrying a bundle of wooden swords for training.

Jang Hansu pulled two from the pile and tossed one at Seong Muyeon’s feet.

“Pick it up.”

“S-Senior, wait! He’s a civilian. He doesn’t even practice martial arts—this is going too far.”

Even his junior, who had been backing him earlier, now looked alarmed. But Jang Hansu only scoffed at the objection.

“You really expect me to believe that? That he’s never learned a thing? I don’t buy it.”

He clearly just wanted an excuse to beat Seong Muyeon senseless.

“……”

When Seong Muyeon didn’t move, Jang Hansu pressed the wooden sword against his chest.

“What are you waiting for?! Pick it up! If you have even the slightest bit of conscience after what your father did to mine!”

“Senior, please stop! This is too much!”

“Move!”

Jang Hansu shoved his junior aside. The look he gave Seong Muyeon was savage.

Seong Muyeon flinched—not out of guilt.

Something was wrong.

The leaps of logic, the violent behavior…

‘Could it be… this guy… right now…’