Camellia 43

But the ruffian who had turned the entire martial world upside down and even abducted the pillars of the Nine Great Sects and Five Noble Clans showed no interest in the bride’s pleading. A breeze from the river stirred the silk curtains. Behind the soft fabric, the silhouettes of thickly grown maple trees flickered faintly.

The robe worn by the Sect Leader looked smooth on the surface.

An embroidered sash cinched tightly beneath his chest, and beneath the collar, which dipped especially low, his collarbone jutted out in a near-straight line. Seolyeong’s gaze slowly drifted to the pale blue blotches scattered across his skin.

The man Seolyeong had seen at Gwanju Hall had been writhing in desire, overcome by yin energy. Thinking back to that moment, he now found himself filled with a deeper, more fundamental doubt.

From what Seolyeong could estimate, the martial level of Sahyeol Amje was at least at the Hyeongyeong realm¹. The level said to be attainable only by the top martial artist of the era.

Then how had you ended up like this?

Diamond Body, Poison-Proof Flesh.

A body that could not be pierced by any weapon in the world, nor brought down by any poison. Wasn’t that supposed to be you? Rumor had it you’d snapped a Mudang Sect sword with one hand.

The Sect Leader lightly stroked his wine cup.

“You don’t have the right to disobey.”

His murmured voice was low and calm.

“If I say drink, you drink. That’s what you were sold here for.”

‘Sold.’

The chill in that word made Seolyeong uneasy.

He had responded only with silence, but now he raised his sharp gaze to meet the Sect Leader’s.

“…Forgive me for the rudeness, but this lowly bride must ask. Does the man who brought home a bride as if he were merchandise… still count as human?”

If the blood fiends who once led the bloodshed of the Cheonma Divine Sect saw Seolyeong now, they might spit in contempt, calling him a disgrace to the blood fiend race. His upright posture and expression, reminiscent of martial artists who walked the path of righteousness, were admirable.

Which only made the Sect Leader want to break him even more. With a faint smile, he opened his mouth.

“Pungjae. Do you think I’m still human?”

Shhhh. The curtain to the left was drawn open. Seolyeong’s gaze naturally shifted toward the river. Maple leaves swirled through the air. Was it wind summoned by the Sect Leader, or just nature’s doing?

At the center of the whirlwind of red leaves, Si Pungjae knelt reverently.

“You are my god. A god has no need to be human.”

The wise answer earned a nod of approval. Si Pungjae looked even more pleased with himself for satisfying the Sect Leader. As the zealot stepped back, the curtain fell once more. Seolyeong grew heavy-hearted.

Right. The demonic sect revered their leader as a god sent by the heavens.

And with power like his, defeating elite masters in mere seconds, covering even the densely packed gorges of Yeonhu Mountain in blizzards, he truly didn’t seem human.

But that didn’t make him worthy of ruling others as a god.

What Seolyeong had learned of righteousness (의) was to stand on the side of the powerless and fight against injustice.

Chivalry (협) was the resolve to uphold that righteousness, like a plum blossom blooming unbroken in the depths of winter.

Only when those two virtues came together did one achieve true honor (의협심). And to reach that goal, one had to train, grow stronger, and use that strength to save those they had vowed to protect and defeat those they had sworn to resist.

Even after reaching the height of power, complacency was forbidden. The moment one trampled the weak or exploited them, all honor was shattered.

Just because the Jungwon was a world where the strong reigned didn’t mean the weak were bugs to be toyed with.

If that were acceptable, why would there be a distinction between the righteous and the demonic paths? Why would righteous sects fight so hard to uphold their mission of justice? If it didn’t matter, anyone could go around killing at will.

Supremacy of strength only holds meaning when rooted in honor.

It’s not a law made to justify tearing people apart, which is why the Madu who led massacres in the Jungwon were condemned as butchers.

So if you’re a god, you must be an evil one, rejected even by the gods.

Seolyeong wanted to say it aloud.

But there were too many other things he needed to say, so the words stayed stuck in his throat.

The Sect Leader watched his bride’s trembling expression with amusement, then floated the wine bottle into the air. With a pop, the cork flew off.

“Since you seem unable to grasp the situation, I prepared this space to teach you personally.”

“I told you, I can’t drink human blood!”

It was a pitiful sight. The same person who had clung to him in the bathhouse, seductively begging to suck his body dry, now protesting like this. The Sect Leader had planned to mention that night’s madness, but changed his mind.

Even without reason, Seolyeong hadn’t given in to bloodlust, and if reminded, he’d only boast of his righteous virtue. Far from shame, he’d likely puff out his chest.

Reaching out hastily, Seolyeong froze as the cork bounced and rolled across the table.

There was no scent of blood.

The liquid that poured out into the cup was odorless, as if mocking him. Even as the cup overflowed and the liquid spilled across the table, the Sect Leader didn’t stop pouring. Only when the bottle was completely empty did he end his bizarre display.

The stream flowed over the table’s edge and splashed onto Seolyeong’s thigh.

“…As you know, my body isn’t what it used to be.”

The quiet whisper carried no shame. The Sect Leader tugged his collar downward, revealing the blue spots extending to his chest. He casually mentioned what Seolyeong had kept secret, the events of their wedding night’s dawn.

“That night, I was drugged, so the lust was amplified. But normally, I show symptoms of Nine Yin Blockage Syndrome. My danjeon fills with icy yin and my breathing stops. Boiling the Solar White Stallion root is useless, and even absorbing extreme Yang bodies has its limits. That’s why I need you.”

This was yet more evidence that he carried the blood of the Tang clan.

Nine Yin Blockage Syndrome was the very affliction that forced the Sacheon Tang clan, one of the Five Noblr Clans, to bow to the lesser Habuk Peng clan.

The Peng clan often gave birth to children with extreme Yang bodies, as if they were connected to their mothers not by umbilical cords but by the blazing sun. While the Peng clan was not known for martial prowess or renown, the fact that nearly all their sons became sons-in-law of the Tang clan gave them a high status.

But something bothered Seolyeong.

“You said even the extreme Yang bodies didn’t help?”

Blood fiends could infuse yang Qi through biting, but ordinarily, the exchange of energy came through sexual contact. So, did that mean the Sect Leader had been with Peng clan members?

Just as Seolyeong was recalling how this man had rubbed his face against his thigh, whining like a seasoned courtesan…

The Sect Leader asked an unrelated question.

“Did you know that to an extreme Yang body, Yin-tainted poison feels like opium?”

Seolyeong flinched.

He remembered how aroused he had felt when his lips brushed the back of the Sect Leader’s neck.

“I barely feel anything, but those who hold me show signs of addiction. They beg me to love them. I can’t stand it anymore. I killed them all and sent a message to the Murong clan. Told them to send me the camellias.”

So that was it. The mystery behind the sudden threat was finally revealed.

You got tired of toying with other Yang bodies, killed them all, and then picked me? …Wait.

Seolyeong, nodding blankly, stammered,

“Th-then, does that mean… I have to lie with the Sect Leader…?”

“Lift the cup, Ahyeong.”

“Sect Leader, this is, this is too much…”

“It’s a sleeping draught I had specially prepared for my new bride. Once you drink it, you’ll sleep for three days straight. So don’t worry.”

That only made him worry more. Goosebumps ran up Seolyeong’s arm. His lost gaze trembled without direction. The Sect Leader smiled.

“If you don’t drink, we’ll both suffer. You’ll be violated while conscious, and I’ll be annoyed listening to your moans.”

“……”

“And if I impulsively kill you in the process… that would be troublesome, wouldn’t it?”

He said nothing further, but Seolyeong understood his meaning well enough.

If I die, Seolhyeon will be next. That innocent girl will have to become this man’s bride in my place.

With a cold expression, Seolyeong glared at the bastard who dared to threaten him using the one person more precious to him than his own life.

The Sect Leader saw the look and almost said he would’ve treated her like a princess if she had come instead, but swallowed the words.

In truth, this mad bride suffered only because he was a man.

If Seolhyeon had come to Yeonhu, Tang Yujae would have acted out the role of a doting husband as promised to Yuwon beforehand. At the very least, he wouldn’t have been this cruel.

1. 형 (Hyeong, 形): form, shape, body 경 (Gyeong, 境): realm, state, boundary ↩︎