TSBIRBV Ch 208

Chapter 208. Revelation (3)

Bang!

The door slammed shut. Geum-ya stormed into the room, breath hissing between his teeth. Yet with every step, the rage on his face thinned, diffusing like ink into water. The hot-blooded youth was gone; his eyes settled into something darker, calmer.

“Did you gain anything?”

At the cautious inquiry of a subordinate, Geum-ya lowered himself into a chair.

“I met the one they call the Heavenly Demon’s boy-concubine.”

He drained the waiting cup in a single swallow, the cold liquid burning a trail down his throat.

“He isn’t the real thing.”

The cup clattered as he set it down.

“…Pardon? But—he dotes on him so openly, and you say he isn’t real?”

The underling stared, astonishment almost witless.

“If he truly cherished him, would he not flaunt him openly at his side?”

The sharp rebuke shut the man’s mouth.

“When Haryang suddenly brought that youth close, handing him the Cheonghae Trading Company and never leaving his side, I half believed it.”

The present Heavenly Demon left the Ten Thousand Great Mountains more often than any of his predecessors. He had always been given to vanishing, but never had he lingered outside so long.

He returned now and then to check affairs, but he was a wanderer, flitting in and out. No matter how carefully his lieutenants concealed it, the absence of the Heavenly Demon was a void impossible to hide.

“When you, Kang, came back and told me the Heavenly Demon had a paramour, I nearly believed you.”

“Yes. So it seemed.”

The man called Kang stroked the white lotus etched upon his sword sheath, the symbol of the White Lotus Sect, and nodded. To goad Tang Munyeo of the Tang clan, who bore old grudges against Cheonghae, had been no difficult task.

“You acted recklessly to speak with someone from the Tang family, but the Heavenly Demon’s reaction then was sharp.”

“I only meant to stir the water a little, but yes—it was a surprising return.”

Kang’s smile was crooked.

“As if it were true feeling.”

“Yes… I almost thought I had found a flaw.”

Geum-ya admitted it. He had nearly believed the Heavenly Demon could be so base as to be swayed by a boy.

But the strangeness did not stop there.

“He paraded him through the mountains for all to see on the day of his return, even brought in an acrobatic troupe to amuse him. All while everyone cowered, wondering if this youth truly held his affection, the Heavenly Demon used him to sweep away the sect’s most vital assets.”

It was a bold, ruthless stroke.

Geum-ya’s voice lowered.

“…And when the time comes to rebuild, what guarantee is there the new budgets will even be spent as intended?”

The Heavenly Demon could play at his whims and no one would dare gainsay it. Everyone would dismiss it as the foolishness of a spoiled concubine. By the time they realized otherwise, it would be too late.

“You think he toppled Chilgwaedong, burned Yanghwagak, ruined the archives, without the Heavenly Demon’s leave? That youth who cannot even practice martial arts, and yet was gifted a legendary beast?”

A mere boy—yet upon his wrist coiled the Thousand-Year Thunder Serpent. Its power was no myth; the lightning that smote Jinmyeongdang and the flames that consumed Yanghwagak proved it. With only the serpent’s core, a martial master could leap to a new realm.

The fact that its golden coils still lived at the boy’s side was due only to Ja Samrang, head of Mu-Wol-Dang, who shadowed him.

The Ja family, once one of the Eight Great Families, had specialized in assassination and concealment. They had been annihilated by Haryang’s hand, yet Samrang had laid her own house’s corpse at his feet.

“If he were truly the chief consort, he would not waste time breaking halls and harming men. He would be amassing silks, jewels, land. Or throwing tantrums until spirit pills and secret manuals were handed over.”

Kang inclined his head. There was sense in that. Those truly cherished by power-drunk rulers always craved wealth, fame, and might.

But this one? Dragged into the Demon Sect, he moved in baffling ways.

“And to give him the same name as the disciple who died in Haryang’s stead at Kunlun? To parade him about? It is only to mask the truth—that he cannot let go of the dead.”

Geum-ya’s murmur grew heavy.

“The Heavenly Demon seeks to bring the sect down.”

The certainty rang through the chamber.

“He bides his time, waiting to finish what he left undone.”

A nervous laugh tore from his lips.

Geum-ya feared him.

Once a prisoner, he had slain the sect master, ended the War of Righteous and Demonic, butchered the Magician and his disciples, and cut the Eight Great Families down to six. He had hesitated not at all. Back then, Geum-ya—then not yet clan head—had quaked, sure his family’s turn would come.

But Haryang had stopped. As if it were enough.

He had become inhuman with slaughter, and yet what terrified Geum-ya most was that he had ceased. He had no reason to, no restraint, and no one could stop him—so why had he halted?

Geum-ya had brooded on that question endlessly. But Haryang had given no answer.

Until now.

“In the end, he was still human. He must be. He must…”

Geum-ya whispered it as if to bind himself. To learn this, he had gone so far as to meet Mun Yegyeol face to face.

“How troublesome… The Grand Design is near, yet he moves before its time.”

Kang muttered, shaking his head.

“Then the Geum family will withdraw from the other Five Families.”

Drawing breath, Geum-ya spoke in his truest voice.

“I cast insults at his concubine in public, showered him with filth. At the least, I’ll be placed under probation.”

“The Gong clan master extended his hand…”

“Abandon him. The Heavenly Demon has already cast him out. His house’s new master will be nothing but Haryang’s puppet.”

What use was a fool who had already been caught and broken?

“Only the Geum family stands for the true dominion of the Demonic Dao. The other five cannot be trusted.”

Geum-ya’s whisper was fervent.

“Our Lord will return. He must return. And when he does, we will cut the Heavenly Demon down and lay the traitor’s head at his feet, restoring him to his rightful throne.”

The thought alone made his face flush, intoxicated. Still he saw before him the torn corpse of Wi Ji-cheon.

He could hardly believe it even then. Everyone had been certain Wi Ji-cheon would be the next Heavenly Demon. Unlike the sect master who had once leaned on sorcery, Wi Ji-cheon had needed no crutch. A true heir of the Wi family, he had everything.

And then Kang had come.

Geum-ya’s mother, matriarch of the Geum clan, had died. He, once sidelined in the succession struggle, became clan head.

Kang had told him: Wi Ji-cheon would return.

Geum-ya chose not to believe what he had seen, but what he longed for.

“The Heavenly Demon shall be reborn.”

“And all demons rejoice.”

His subordinate’s lips curved upward.

Yegyeol, meanwhile, was half-asleep in Haryang’s lap.

“Gyeol-ah.”

Haryang called him softly, but the youth showed no sign of waking.

Holding that warm, pliant body close, Haryang guided his energy into gentle circulation. Feeling the cool stream, Yegyeol burrowed closer in his sleep.

The arms looped around his neck made him smile faintly.

Of late, Yegyeol slept often. And he refused to leave Haryang’s side.

After wandering all day through the mountains, he returned weary. The only comfort was that he now ate more.

Yet still, no weight gained.

He remained light. Even if he were a great boulder, to Haryang he would weigh no more than a pebble. Half of that was love’s blindness, the other half the truth—that he was strong enough to toss aside true stone as if it were a toy.

“Mmm… so sleepy.”

When Yegyeol mumbled, Haryang soothed him with a gentle pat.

“Still, you must wash.”

He did not know the reason: Yegyeol had been exhausting himself with his “remodeling” of the sect.

He was indeed a powerful Esper, but not yet seasoned. In his former world, he had suppressed his unstable power for lack of a guide, and when lightning had first erupted from him, it was in a frenzy to kill.

Even here, he had hidden his strength—once against the Demon at Kunlun, once against bandits, once in crafting ironwood for trade.

But here, in the Demon Sect, he toppled buildings and lit fires near every other day.

The strain on his body was of another order.

At least he need never lack guiding energy.

“Gyeol-ah, wash before sleep.”

When Haryang called again, Yegyeol yawned wide and rubbed his head against his senior brother’s chest.

“…Ah. If only I could fall asleep and wake to find myself washed clean.”

His drowsy voice was perfectly clear.

“Mm?”

“Hands scrubbed bright, hair dried soft and fluffy… clothes changed, too…”

His mumble was precise. Haryang looked down at the face nestled against him. The youth’s eyes were shut, but beneath the lids his eyes shifted.

Plainly awake, feigning sleep.

And plainly intent on sloth, with no attempt to hide it.

At such barefaced scheming, Haryang chuckled low. Such a request was hardly difficult.

“Shall I? And what else?”

Yegyeol cracked one eyelid half-open.

“And then…”

His voice shrank to a whisper, so faint that Haryang bent his head to catch it.

But what he received was not words—

—only a kiss.