TSBIRBV Ch 324

Chapter 324. The White Lotus Cult (7)

Yegyeol responded calmly, “True. The Martial Alliance would crumble if its sense of justice were ever compromised.”

Haryang gave a slight nod of agreement, then added as though something had just occurred to him, “I heard that the vanguard leading this subjugation squad includes Gwaiho Peng Munhyeong.”

At that, Yegyeol clicked his tongue. It hadn’t even been a full day since the Martial Alliance meeting, yet Haryang already seemed to know the outline of the subjugation team.

Haryang had left the room while Yegyeol was speaking with Peng Muguk and returned only at dawn, his robes still damp with dew. Seeing that, Yegyeol had realized how busy his Senior Brother’s night had been.

And that’s exactly why the righteous sects always end up helpless whenever the Demonic Cult attacks, he thought drily.

It was true that heroes had always emerged in time to stop the Cult from conquering the Central Plains…

But now that the one who would’ve been that hero is actually the current Lord of the Ten-Thousand Mountains… won’t the Cult just conquer everything unopposed?

That Haryang had no intention of doing so was, in itself, the righteous sects’ greatest stroke of luck.

“You mentioned before, didn’t you? That even the Geumeo Chamber had channels through which Jinju Eon Clan’s money flowed into certain brothels.”

“I did,” Haryang replied simply.

“And the Peng Clan has been under attack by bandits pretending to be from Gyoryong Fortress… and their relationship with the Jinju Eon Clan isn’t exactly good.”

Yegyeol spoke as if to himself. It was still too early to jump to conclusions, but wasn’t there something suspicious between the two? The fact that the Jinju Eon Clan and the Hebei Peng Clan had been rivals for dominance in the same region was another thing that nagged at him.

“That’s a sound deduction,” Haryang said, the corner of his lips curving in a composed smile — which, from him, meant tacit agreement.

Yegyeol sighed quietly. If this were true, it would mean that the so-called righteous sects were working hand in hand, conspiring and deceiving behind the scenes.

“This is a mess,” he muttered.

“Indeed,” Haryang agreed. “But those people have survived for hundreds, even thousands of years by acting exactly like that.”

His voice carried neither disdain nor admiration — only fact. He turned his head slightly toward the window. “It seems you have a guest.”

Following his gaze, Yegyeol looked out the window and spotted a neatly dressed young man standing outside. His eyes widened slightly.

“Judging by the timing,” Haryang said, “he must be bringing an official letter from the Martial Alliance, inviting you to join the subjugation team.”

“Ah. So they can move fast when it suits them,” Yegyeol said dryly.

It wasn’t difficult to understand why they’d sent him. Namgung Un was one of the few young heroes Yegyeol was on friendly terms with, not to mention the winner of the last Dragon and Phoenix Assembly — and heir to the Namgung Clan. He had also stepped up to defend Yegyeol during the false accusation incident.

For the Alliance, there could be no better messenger.

“Shall I give you two some privacy?” Haryang asked lightly.

He already knew the contents of the letter and the nature of the visit — there was little need for him to stay. But Yegyeol understood why he asked.

“No,” Yegyeol said softly. “I’d rather you stay.”

When he reached out and gently intertwined their fingers, a faint flicker of warmth passed through Haryang’s eyes.

“Namgung Un,” came a voice from the doorway. “Mister Mun, may I have a word?”

Instead of answering, Yegyeol opened the door for him.

Namgung Un bowed slightly, then noticed the man standing behind Yegyeol. The presence of two distinct auras in the room had already told him someone else was there, but seeing who it was made his heart tighten.

No, this is good, he told himself. Better this way.

He began by explaining why he had come. Fortunately, Yegyeol helped him along.

“Namgung-gongja,” Yegyeol asked politely, “what brings you here at this hour?”

That formal title — gongja — made Un’s chest ache faintly.

Ever since the mistake he’d made in Seonyeong, he could no longer bear to hear Yegyeol call his name as he once had. Each time he was reminded of that fact, his heart grew heavy.

“First… I should tell you where I was last night,” Un began.

What? Yegyeol blinked. Isn’t he here to invite me to join the subjugation squad?

“I was at Wuhanjeyillu,” Un continued, “the most prosperous pavilion in the entire city of Wuhan, spending the evening with my father.”

Yegyeol blinked again, unsure where this was going.

“At nearly midnight,” Un went on, “as we were boarding our carriage to return home, I saw you — in the alley beside the tavern.”

His gaze shifted to Haryang.

Since Yegyeol already knew his Senior Brother had been out that night, he wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t as though it was unusual for the Heavenly Demon to wander Wuhan by day or by night.

“My Senior Brother has been residing in Wuhan for some time now,” Yegyeol said evenly. “Why do you feel the need to confirm that?”

He stepped subtly between them, a quiet but unmistakable gesture of protection, his hand reaching back to link with Haryang’s.

Haryang’s voice came low and calm. “If you’re referring to Huayeon Pavilion, yes — I was in that area.”

Namgung Un’s complexion grew pale.

“When my father mentioned that he might have seen you, I thought it was unlikely,” he said quietly. “But at dawn, the mistress of Huayeon Pavilion was found dead. It was staged to look like suicide, but the investigation concluded it was murder. I came to ask if you knew anything about it.”

Yegyeol’s expression turned cold.

A death had occurred, and anyone nearby at the time of the incident would naturally be questioned — that much was understandable.

But for Namgung Un to come directly to accuse Haryang… that was offensive beyond words.

Had it been anyone else, Yegyeol would have thrown them out on the spot.

“So you think that just because someone died near him, my Senior Brother must be the murderer?” His voice was soft, but sharp as a blade’s edge.

Un bit his lip and shook his head firmly. “No. I do not.”

He lowered his gaze like a man confessing a sin. “I know my perspective is narrow, but I am not so foolish as to deny what I’ve seen and heard. It’s just that… the item found near the body bore the markings of the Demonic Cult. I came to tell you that.”

He drew two envelopes from his robes.

One was the Martial Alliance’s formal invitation for Yegyeol to join the subjugation squad. The other was an investigative report from the scene at Huayeon Pavilion.

“I had doubts,” Un explained, “but when the chance arose to deliver this personally, I came straight here.”

Yegyeol glanced through the documents, then quietly set aside the Alliance letter.

“First… I apologize,” he said simply.

It was a sincere apology.

“I’ve been on edge about certain matters lately and ended up taking it out on you, Namgung-gongja.”

Behind him, Haryang’s hand brushed lightly over his shoulder — a quiet gesture of reassurance.

“There’s no need to apologize,” Un said. “It’s my poor way with words that caused the misunderstanding.”

His tone was so genuinely self-effacing that Yegyeol couldn’t help but believe him.

He really is like that, Yegyeol thought, studying him anew. So honest and upright that it almost defies logic.

To think he’d come directly to the so-called Heavenly Demon to report a murder that looked like the Demonic Cult’s doing — most people would have gone to the Alliance Leader or even raised an army first.

“This report looks freshly written,” Yegyeol said. “Are you even allowed to take it out like this?”

“My father and I were both questioned as witnesses,” Un explained, “so I believe it’s permissible.”

The seriousness on his face — the kind seen only in people too righteous for their own good — made Yegyeol sigh inwardly.

Why were all the guides he met such good people?

There was a saying among espers: if one is born an esper, check for an energy stream under the house; if one is born a guide, erect a monument to your ancestors for three generations of accumulated virtue.

And truly, he couldn’t disagree.

“Well then,” Haryang said smoothly, pulling Yegyeol’s attention back, “since Namgung-gongja went to such trouble, let’s take a look.”

Yegyeol turned toward the report Haryang was already opening, oblivious to the flicker of disappointment that crossed Un’s face.

“…This,” Yegyeol murmured.

A sigil was drawn on the page — a carved flame, white and shapely like a bud just before blooming.

A white fire that’s neither hot nor cold…

It immediately made Yegyeol think of Bi Huyeon — the intense holy flame that had once burned at the heart of the Demonic Cult.

“It resembles the sacred flame of the Demonic Cult,” Haryang noted.

“It’s almost too obvious,” Yegyeol said.

The Demonic Cult, for all its scale, was a reclusive sect. They didn’t advertise their involvement in external affairs.

Especially after Je Haryang became the Heavenly Demon, even their minor activities in Qinghai had completely ceased.

Whenever rumors flared that the Cult might rise again, Kunlun had always been the first to suffer — but since the bloody massacre twenty years ago, it had been eerily peaceful.

“The Martial Alliance thinks so too,” Un said. “They’re currently investigating whether the mistress of Huayeon Pavilion had ties to the Demonic Cult.”

“She was not one of their agents,” Haryang said simply, shaking his head.

Un didn’t doubt his words. What startled him was the casual way the Heavenly Demon spoke — revealing intelligence most would guard even from their own subordinates.

Sitting across from the very man the world called Cheonma, calmly discussing the Cult’s spies, made Un suddenly realize how surreal this morning had become.

“Still,” he said cautiously, “her background is rather unclear. There are already rumors claiming she was a planted agent of the Cult.”

“So fast,” Haryang murmured.

He glanced sideways at Yegyeol, whose lips quirked slightly.

Having become something of an expert at rumor management himself, Yegyeol could already tell this whole affair was a setup — a clean, calculated fabrication.

“At that rate,” he said lightly, “someone’s definitely stirring the pot.”

“Indeed,” Haryang said. “It could be someone trying to sow chaos, or perhaps someone who committed the murder and used the Demonic Cult as a convenient scapegoat.”

“Right,” Yegyeol nodded. “If they blame it on the Cult, the case becomes too big for most people to interfere — perfect cover.”

He sounded almost cheerful, and Haryang’s lips curved faintly at the sight.

Yegyeol had always been easy to please. Just having someone else believe in his Senior Brother’s innocence was enough to make him content.

“But,” Haryang said gently, watching them both, “I said the mistress of Huayeon Pavilion was not a spy for the Demonic Cult.”

He smiled, eyes glinting like polished obsidian.

“I never said she had no connection to it.”