Camellia 27

The falcon soaring through the skies had spotted its target. Its yellow ringed pupils, gleamed.

In an instant, the falcon dove and snatched Seolyeong’s hair with its curved beak. Surrounded by sharp-eyed and sharp-eared scholars, he had been listening to speculations that the lost boy might have been abducted by a human trafficking ring. He frowned.

“What the hell is this!”

As the hairpin was pulled free, his hair scattered in all directions. Silky black strands flowed down his pale face.

The sight was so sensual that the scholars all flushed. Wincing from the pain on his scalp, Seolyeong flailed his arms wildly.

“You bastard bird! You’re no ordinary fowl!”

Seolyeong, who feared no beast save the white tiger, known as the natural enemy of blood fiends, boldly grabbed the falcon’s leg.

The bird’s claws ripped into his wrist with a harsh tear. The wound seemed deep, the stream of blood thickening rapidly. Only after his wrist was soaked red did Seolyeong manage to restrain both of the bird’s wings.

In the struggle, his cheeks were scratched by the talons, leaving several marks.

“Y-young master? That animal in your hands… what is it?”

One of the scholars stepped forward on behalf of the group, voice trembling with fear.

And rightly so, the falcon that Seolyeong had subdued was almost calf-sized, no exaggeration. Unless one compared it to a desert eagle, no other bird could stand tall before this creature. Its overwhelming size evoked the image of a mountain beast.

Examining the bird’s features, Seolyeong muttered to himself.

“Back, ash gray. Wings, pitch black. Belly, a yellowish white. Its eyes are keen, and its cry carries force… this must be a falcon.”

Among birds raised for delivering messages, falcons were considered the brightest and most elusive. Watching one descend a cliff face in vertical freefall was a sight that left all in awe. If someone asked Seolyeong which animal he’d like to see one last time before dying, he’d answer “falcon” without hesitation.

“But aren’t you from Haedong?”

He asked in a puzzled tone, looking at the falcon baring its beak vertically as if to threaten him.

Haedong, the foreign martial realm hidden from the royal court, filled with hermits and reclusive masters. How likely was it that a rare bird native to that region would be here, in the middle of Sacheon, tugging at his hair?

“…Huh?”

Still puzzling over it, Seolyeong caught sight of a light pink sash tied to the falcon’s leg. It was embroidered with peonies in silver thread, its elegant coloring looked familiar.

“No way…”

What confirmed his suspicion was the scent, detectable only to a blood fiend, that lingered faintly on the falcon. More than the trace of Choseon’s fragrance clinging to the sash, it was that other scent, pungent and cold, that unsettled him.

“Has my husband come to Sacheon?”

There was no way a beast could understand human language, but he asked anyway.

“Is Choseon with him? Why?”

The falcon, which had been struggling before, suddenly stilled.

“He sent you to me, didn’t he? With Choseon’s sash as a sign? Seriously now!”

The scholars watched the beautiful young man talking to an animal with pitying eyes, then carefully interjected.

“…I’m afraid, young master, animals can’t answer human questions.”

“Yes, exactly. There’s a reason we call them beasts. Even if they’re regarded as divine creatures, they can’t rival human intelligence. Asking would only wear out your noble lips…”

“Eh?”

The falcon slipped free from Seolyeong’s grip and rose lightly into the air above his head. Its powerful wings flapped, casting a shadow over Seolyeong’s face as it hovered in place.

He tentatively reached out and grabbed its leg again, only to break into a radiant smile, dimples forming deep in his cheeks. As if it had been waiting, the falcon suddenly took flight.

“Wow! I heard the martial artists of Haedong revere falcons as sacred beings, and I understand now!”

Who needed gyeonggong? With a well-trained falcon, you could soar through the skies at will!

The falcon’s speed defied imagination. Even the most advanced martial artists couldn’t cross the skies like this.

This particular falcon was no ordinary one, it had devoured an entire crate of rare elixirs and was therefore especially fast. But Seolyeong didn’t care. He had already fallen completely for the creature. He was positively envious of Cheonsin, who could use such a magnificent bird as a messenger.

Though animals didn’t normally like him as much as humans did, he resolved to win over this one. Swaying like a fluttering leaf, Seolyeong was slightly dizzy from the bird’s rapid ascents and dives.

*

Choseon slowly opened his heavy eyelids. His blurred vision sharpened, and he took in his surroundings. He was slumped against the trunk of a tree.

“Ugh…”

A crashing waterfall and tightly packed trees surrounded him. The valley below was too deep to gauge, and the gravel and soil scattered everywhere were strangely red. They say that kind of color only comes when iron is mixed in… He was nudging the reddish soil with his toes when she flinched.

“…Why did I use my foot instead of my hand?”

Muttering to himself, he tried to move his arms but felt as though they were tightly bound by some unseen force. Glancing down, she saw that his arms, which he thought he had moved, lay limp like dead things.

“Aaaaack!”

She screamed.

“My arms, my arms…!”

They say when you’re truly terrified, not even tears will come. It was true. Hwang Choseon struggled to move his lifeless arms but couldn’t accept reality and chose instead to pass out again, hoping it was all a dream.

But the moment he turned his head to get into a more comfortable position.

“Aaaagh!”

Hwang Choseon shrieked loud enough to scare the birds away, he fainted once more. He had just realized that the ground was soaked with blood from three corpses.

The soil wasn’t red from iron, but from blood.

The corpses were the woodsmen Cheonsin had killed while waiting for the bride to return, bored after tossing Choseon at the base of the tallest tree.

Two hours earlier.

Three woodsmen had come across a beautiful woman sleeping alone deep in the forest. Creeping up with ill intent, they planned to assault her. One bald man had been groping her chest and lower body when he realized the woman was, in fact, a man, and pulled down his pants without hesitation.

‘You know what I mean, right? Nothing beats a warm, tight little hole! Prices at the brothel are outrageous these days, so this is perfect!’

If they had encountered a righteous martial artist, they would have been struck down before getting close. But Cheonsin was the lord of the demonic path, its vanguard. Those who followed the dark path didn’t care for justice.

Even so, Cheonsin killed them.

He crushed the skull of the man who had tried to rape Choseon, extracting spinal fluid. Why? Simple. The moment the man dropped his pants, he started shaking his ass.

The sight disgusted Cheonsin so much that he subconsciously unleashed a palm strike. The man’s head shattered like glass. The remaining two were sliced in half before they could even react.

Choseon, who had almost regained consciousness, fainted again after seeing the aftermath. Only Cheonsin remained, calmly waiting.

Until the bride, having ridden–no, clung to the falcon, came crashing down onto the red soil and rolled back up with a twist.

Seolyeong landed lightly and pushed himself up with a firm stance, he looked around for the falcon. He turned toward the sound of flapping wings and saw a handsome man watching him, the bird perched on his shoulder.

Seolyeong’s first thought was,

“Why is my husband always sitting in trees like a damn monkey?”

…He was screwed. That was supposed to stay in his head, but his tongue had a mind of its own.