HDCLSSRS Ch 67

Chapter 67 Antidote (1)

The three of them put their heads together and began to discuss how to obtain the antidote. As Seong Muyeon was completely drained from battling the poison, he couldn’t even lift a finger—so in effect, it was just the other two yelling and pointing fingers at each other.

“So if we find that poison freak, can we get the antidote or not?!”

“Thanks to the Seventh Young Master, we’ve bought some time, but it’s only a few days at best. Are you confident you can find the poison freak and get the antidote in that time?”

“Then what do you suggest we do?”

Baek Ryeoil and Ilgwang were locked in a heated argument. Seong Muyeon leaned back in a high-backed chair someone had brought for him and watched the two.

“Don’t fight…”

Seong Muyeon tried to speak, but his voice was too faint for anyone to hear.

During the peak of the Great Demon War, the Contagion Poison had spread. Though the original poison freak had died, someone had inherited the poison. Ordinary antidotes had no effect, and the more inner power one used, the faster the poison spread—making it fatal for the martial artists fighting in the war. With the combat power compromised, the original Baek Ryeoil had been forced to find a solution.

“Who knows. Unless a ‘Herbal Sage’ appears out of nowhere.”

“You idiot. The Herbal Sage doesn’t stay in one place. If your luck’s bad, you might never find him.”

Their shouting grew louder. Only after Seong Muyeon feebly waved his arms a few times did they finally fall silent. The arm that had absorbed the poison was stained black.

“I know where the Herbal Sage lives.”

At those words, both of them were left speechless.

Seong Muyeon had no grand sense of chivalry or lofty ideals of justice. He hadn’t acted out of some noble willingness to die in place of Ma Jincheon. He had simply done it because it was the only way to survive.

“You should’ve told us something that important earlier!”

Baek Ryeoil yelled, and Seong Muyeon grumbled back.

“…I tried to, but who was it that didn’t listen?”

“So, where does the Herbal Sage live?”

“Not far from here.”

Back during the war, when their allies were afflicted by the Contagion Poison, Baek Ryeoil had taken matters into his own hands. Though he was someone who usually didn’t concern himself with such trivial matters, the scale of the loss was too great to ignore.

After torturing a few of the Herbal Sage’s disciples, Baek Ryeoil managed to uncover the location of his laboratory. He had rushed there immediately, but the Herbal Sage, having long since lost interest in worldly affairs—especially matters of the martial world—had shut the door in his face.

When words failed, Baek Ryeoil had a favorite method.

Force.

He broke down the lab’s door and wreaked havoc, demanding the antidote. He threw everything in sight, including assistants, and even lay sprawled on the floor in protest.

With a deep, world-weary sigh, the Herbal Sage had finally handed over the medicine.

Thanks to that, Seong Muyeon now knew where to find him.

“But Seong Muyeon, how do you know that?”

Baek Ryeoil narrowed his eyes at him with suspicion. Ilgwang’s expression darkened as well.

“Indeed. Hasn’t the Seventh Young Master never set foot outside of Shin River?”

For once, the two teamed up to corner Seong Muyeon.

“Is that really important right now? And Ilgwang, how do you know whether I’ve ever left or not? Are you my mother or something?”

“…”

At any rate, both men could agree that it wasn’t the issue at hand.

“I’m not sure the Young Master will last until we return with the antidote. You’ll need to accompany us so he can take it immediately once it’s obtained.”

“Well, that’s going to be a problem… I can’t feel my legs.”

Seong Muyeon gave a weak smile. He was trying to lighten the mood with a joke, but the other two didn’t seem amused in the slightest. Instead, the atmosphere turned cold.

“Then get on my back.”

“I’ll carry him.”

Baek Ryeoil and Ilgwang reached out at the same time, then scowled at each other.

“My master is the reason he’s like this, so it’s only right that I do it. You step aside.”

“You’re the one who should step aside. This man is practically my liege.”

“Oh please. Do you people even know what loyalty means?”

“You’d better watch your mouth.”

“Enough. That’s enough.”

“Then you decide. Me or him?”

“Yes, please let the Seventh Young Master choose.”

Seong Muyeon looked helplessly between the two. After a moment of deliberation, he jerked his chin toward Ilgwang.

“Ilgwang, carry me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ilgwang lifted Seong Muyeon with a victorious smile. As they exited the tent, Baek Ryeoil was left behind, looking deeply shocked.

“…”

“Well then, let’s get moving.”

Ilgwang said coldly, and Baek Ryeoil followed after him mechanically.

As they crossed the forest, he occasionally cast sidelong glances at Seong Muyeon. Seong sat calmly in Ilgwang’s arms, gazing blankly ahead, lost in thought.

Baek Ryeoil gave a dry laugh.

Wasn’t Ilgwang the one who had been with Seong Muyeon since childhood? Compared to that, Baek Ryeoil hadn’t known Seong for long. It was a natural outcome.

That thought made his stomach twist.

Why had he assumed Seong Muyeon would naturally choose him? He didn’t even have the mental space to examine why the rejection had stung so much.

‘He’s from the Demonic Cult, after all.’

Could an organization like that even understand things like friendship and camaraderie—bonds formed through shared hardships, like in the Mount Hua Sect?

Just earlier, Ilgwang hadn’t batted an eye when his fellow cultists were struck down by Shaolin’s mighty fists.

And besides, bonds were more about quality than duration.

Baek Ryeoil had just begun to nod to himself in satisfaction when his expression froze.

‘…Why do I even care?’

What did it matter who Seong Muyeon was close to? What did it have to do with him?

And yet, he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering toward the man.

“Let’s rest here for a while.”

As night fell, Ilgwang found a suitable place to camp. With time too tight to stop at a village, they had moved in a straight line, unable to avoid camping outdoors.

It was a hollow space at the base of a closed-off slope. Ilgwang set Seong Muyeon down in the most comfortable spot and started building a fire. Meanwhile, Baek Ryeoil stood awkwardly, scanning their surroundings.

The location wasn’t bad, but something was bothering him. Ever since they left the village, the presence of the Black Shadow Corps had followed them like a shadow.

“Please wait here. I’ll check the perimeter.”

Ilgwang left with a few members of the Corps.

“…”

Baek Ryeoil glanced over at Seong Muyeon, who sat by the fire. The flickering flames cast a reddish glow over his face, but his expression was unreadable.

Seong had been especially quiet the entire way. Baek Ryeoil hadn’t spoken either, so only silence hung between them. Other than the soft crackling of the fire and the sound of insects, it was as quiet as death.

They were always hurling curses and shouting at each other, so this silence was unfamiliar. On top of that, Seong Muyeon was keeping a physical distance as well. The man who never hesitated to trample boundaries was suddenly withdrawn—it was deeply unsettling. Baek Ryeoil found himself restless and uncomfortable.

“Why did you do it?”

At last, he broke the silence. Baek Ryeoil tried to sound casual as he flopped down a bit away from him.

“What do you mean?”

Seong Muyeon replied without even taking his eyes off the fire.

“Why did you risk your own body to save my master?”

“…”

Baek Ryeoil’s gaze cooled instantly.

“To relieve your guilt?”

“Excuse me?”

“If my master died at the hands of those Demonic bastards, you’d never be able to ask me for help again.”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Am I wrong?”

“Think what you want.”

Baek Ryeoil couldn’t understand why Seong Muyeon was angry. He fell into thought before speaking again.

“Then why’d you choose him over me earlier?”

Only after saying it did Baek Ryeoil realize that this had been his real question all along.

Seong Muyeon finally frowned and looked at him.

“Are you curious?”

“Yes.”

“I thought it might upset you.”

“Huh?”

“I’m from the Demonic Cult, remember? After what happened at the dojo, I figured you’d only get angrier seeing my face. I wanted to give you space to sort out your thoughts.”

“Really?”

Only then did Baek Ryeoil feel the warmth of the fire spread through him. The flames flared up, devouring the wood.

But Seong Muyeon’s furrowed brow didn’t ease.

“And I only saved the dojo because I could. It’s not like I can control all the cult members. Honestly, it wasn’t my fault, was it? Do I have to feel guilty?”

Being accused of acting out of some petty calculation felt more insulting than being called a demonic bastard. He wasn’t in a position to feel things like guilt—he was barely keeping his own head above water.

Baek Ryeoil shrugged.

“That’s your call.”

“Exactly. And I don’t feel it. Even if this incident hadn’t happened, if the dojo ever needed me, I would’ve dragged it through the mud and used it just the same.”

Baek Ryeoil let out a quiet laugh. It was the first time he had laughed since Ma Jincheon was injured.

“I’ll look forward to it.”

“Yes, please do.”

Not long after, Ilgwang returned from his scouting.

“For now, it seems safe. We’ll take turns keeping watch, so please get some rest, Young Master.”

“Okay.”

Seong Muyeon lay down on the bedding Ilgwang and the Black Shadow Corps had made by laying out their outer garments. But he couldn’t fall asleep and kept tossing and turning.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“It’s cold…”

Seong Muyeon murmured, curling his shoulders tightly. Though it wasn’t quite winter, it was still cold enough to affect him.

“I’ll go gather more firewood.”

Ilgwang was just about to move when—

“No need for that.”

Baek Ryeoil strode over to Seong Muyeon and lay down behind him, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

Ilgwang’s brow twitched.

“…What do you think you’re doing?”

“He said he’s cold.”

Baek Ryeoil replied with a smile.