TSBIRBV Ch 197

Chapter 197. The Venomous Viper Will Not Endure (8)

Tak Noya stood rigid, his back straight as a loyal retainer of some fallen dynasty might stand. Whatever his heart concealed, outwardly he carried himself with dignity.

“I would like to look inside. Will you guide me?”

Yegyeol’s brown eyes gleamed like polished glass beads. Tak Noya replied at once, as though he had been waiting for such a request.

“Return at once. This place is expressly forbidden to outsiders by the Heavenly Demon himself.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

His tone was strict to the point of severity.

“Then I suppose that means I may enter.”

Yegyeol stepped lightly past the old man.

“What insolence!”

Tak Noya, unthinking, lunged a step forward, chains clanking. With a metallic clatter, the lower half of his body emerged from the cavern’s shadows—at his ankle hung a long iron chain.

A caretaker?

Yegyeol bit back a laugh.

He looks more like a prisoner.

Realizing Yegyeol’s eyes had found the shackles, the old man hastily shifted his robes to cover them. Yet the long tail of iron could hardly be concealed.

“Return at once,” the old man said again, cords standing in his weathered neck.

“And by what right do you command me?”

Yegyeol gave a short, sharp laugh, and turned to Samrang.

“Senior Brother said I may go wherever I please within the Hundred-Thousand Mountains. Isn’t that so, Samrang?”

Do you not recognize his authority?

His gaze upon Tak Noya was imperious.

“Of course,” Samrang replied smoothly. She then addressed the old man in a cold tone.

“You should be the one to withdraw, Tak Noya. Young Master Mun is so valued by our lord that he appointed even a hall mistress to act as his mere guide.”

Tak Noya’s face flushed with color. Yegyeol gave a low whistle in mockery.

“Come then. Baembaemi, do you see anything you fancy?”

The golden serpent peeked its head from his sleeve, glimmering with an air beyond the ordinary. Tak Noya’s eyes twitched as this lawless intruder trampled his domain.

The Seven Terrors Cavern was like the mansion of a once-wealthy house now fallen into decline. Its furnishings and goods were many and fine, yet cracked or worn with age. The caretaker had clearly tried to dust what he could reach, but high shelves and corners were thick with cobwebs and dust.

Yegyeol’s eyes lit on a suitable target.

“Oh. That shelf is rather high.”

“It was used to store medicinal herbs… What are you—!”

As Yegyeol stretched out his hand, a yellow spark leapt forth. The corner of the shelf collapsed with a crash, spilling its contents to the floor.

Clatter! Crash!

Scratching his chin sheepishly, Yegyeol said, “That was close. Imagine if the old caretaker had touched it, and all this had fallen on his head.”

“Indeed,” Samrang nodded gravely, not a hint of rebuke.

Tak Noya’s face twisted with confusion. That shelf had been repaired merely three months past.

“And this—what is it?”

Yegyeol pointed to a calligraphic plaque.

“That was inscribed by the Blood Demon Lord himself, three centuries ago, when he attained enlightenment in this very cavern—”

But the intruder did not let him finish.

“Oh, a plaque? How curious.”

He lifted the board marked Seven Terrors Cavern and applied a little pressure. From the corner, cracks began to spread.

“No! No!”

Tak Noya hurriedly gathered the splinters.

“Hmm. Dusty.”

With a flick of her hand, Samrang conjured wind that swept the fragments away into the cavern’s depths.

“Oh? Baembaemi, is that what you like?”

The golden serpent now showed interest in a white tiger’s pelt hanging on the wall. Yegyeol laid his hand upon it, and yellow flame flared.

“Ah—!”

Tak Noya’s eyes widened. The prized pelt, awarded a century ago to the caretaker of this place, crumbled to ash.

“Hmm. Truly ancient, it seems. Quite rotten.”

“You—you burned it yourself!”

Ignoring him, Yegyeol wandered deeper. The caretaker tried to stop him, but his movements slipped from Tak Noya’s grasp like a dancer’s step.

Lightness skill?

But there was no trace of martial cultivation in him.

Tak Noya moved to draw his blade, but Samrang’s hand caught his wrist like a clamp.

“You dare raise your hand against our lord’s guest?”

Her eyes sank into a darkness like river stones. Tak Noya tried to shake her grip, but it was like fire.

“N-no…” His voice shrank, and shame crept upon him.

Meanwhile, Yegyeol skipped further in and found sturdy wooden bars.

“These are ironwood. As strong as steel. Their durability is enhanced by repeated soaking in brine.”

“They don’t smell of salt.”

Yegyeol tilted his head at Samrang’s explanation. Tak Noya dared to hope—perhaps he would turn away after only sniffing.

Yegyeol reached out.

He hasn’t touched the bars…!

Tak Noya’s eyes fixed upon his hand. But the real threat was the golden serpent.

Baembaemi darted forward and bit into the bars. A small snake’s teeth should have left no mark, yet Baembaemi was the Thousand-Year Thunder Serpent.

From its tiny jaws, lightning flared. The ironwood, though treated with every art, split apart like brittle tinder.

“Hmm. The durability here is rather poor.”

Yegyeol murmured shamelessly at the sight of blackened wood.

Samrang hid a smile, while the old caretaker’s jaw hung slack.

“Had anyone been imprisoned here before I arrived, they would have escaped. How fortunate I came.”

He even added self-praise. Where the serpent touched, wood charred and fell apart, cracks spidering up to the ceiling.

Pointing at the damage, Yegyeol grinned.

“Oh? Have you perhaps been skimming off the maintenance funds for delicacies?”

Tak Noya could not even deny it.

Everywhere the young man touched, wood blackened and crumbled, mats caught fire, walls split. Only the pillars holding the cavern roof remained intact.

I’ve seen him craft burning wood before… but can he truly do this?

Samrang’s eyes widened in wonder. Tak Noya, by contrast, grew ashen.

“No! No, it cannot be!”

The old man cried out in despair.

Tak Noya had long served as caretaker of this cavern.

Born in the sect, he had never thrived under its law of might. Lacking talent in martial arts, he spent decades shuffling through menial posts until by chance he caught the eye of Ma-ui. That madman prized loyalty above skill.

Tak Noya, eager for advancement, accepted when given charge of the cavern where prisoners were held.

Once filled with wails and torments, the cavern had grown quiet. Only Ha Ryang walked its halls of his own will. Tak Noya served as his faithful jailer.

He still remembered their first meeting.

Ha Ryang, returning from slaughtering righteous warriors, drenched in blood, shut himself into the cavern’s depths. Tak Noya, ordered by Ma-ui, splashed him with salted ice-water to rouse him.

“Rise.”

The man stood like a painting, silent, expressionless. A chill crept into Tak Noya’s bones.

No—no.

Such a great warrior cannot even defy the likes of me.

He turned from fear to savoring his petty power.

“Tch. If you do not answer when Ma-ui summons, he will see you destroyed.”

He was only following orders. Compared to Ma-ui and his disciples, Tak Noya’s sins were light.

When the disciples secretly sought Ha Ryang’s blood, Tak Noya looked away. When others schemed against him, Tak Noya obeyed orders to cut supplies, leaving him to freeze and starve.

Better to endure his resentment than be assassinated myself.

Day or night, Ma-ui kept Ha Ryang under watch. Tak Noya reported his every move.

But I never struck him. I only obeyed.

He convinced himself thus—that was why the man spared him.

“I obeyed orders only!” he had once cried, kneeling before the newly crowned Heavenly Demon while others died.

“Then you will obey this one as well,” Ha Ryang had said, and granted him this cavern. Thus when Ma-ui and all his followers perished, Tak Noya alone remained.

So he told himself.

And now, before his eyes, the fragile sandcastle of his life was crumbling to dust.