Camellia 126

Sahyeol Amje, even with a righteous bride at his side, bore an expression of unshaken composure. In truth, Namgung Shin had harbored doubts when she first heard the rumor that a male blood fiend under the Murong clan’s protection had journeyed to the Sipman Daesan. She had questioned whether the Samasa of the Demonic Sect would truly welcome the presence of a male spouse.

It had seemed more likely that he would take offense at such a gesture, treat it as a mockery of the Cheonma Divine Sect, and retaliate accordingly. Yet seeing them today, it became clear the man had indeed won over the Samasa. The unexpected outcome left her with a growing sense of unease. If the so-called invincible blood fiend and the Samasa joined forces…

Then even the fragile order that the martial world had managed to preserve might collapse altogether.

As tension rose, a faint scent of pale orchids lingered in the air. It was the subtle fragrance of sword Qi, befitting one called the Pale Orchid Sword. The moment her wariness became visible, Tang Yujae spoke, his tone almost gentle.

“You need not worry. I have no intention of unleashing chaos upon the martial world by sending my lover to its frontlines.”

He had read her thoughts with startling precision.

In the end, it was the martial artists’ lack of trust that always proved fatal. Their blood fiend had once struggled so earnestly to preserve the martial world. Could it be that his spouse had lived his entire life branded a traitor, despite never once turning against them?

Such bitter thoughts continued to take root when Namgung Shin opened her mouth again.

“May I ask what compels your spouse to seek victory in the tournament?”

She bore the burden of maintaining peace in the martial world in her father’s place. Though she lacked the martial ability to seek leadership of the clan herself, her father had spoken clearly: when danger comes to the martial world, what is required is not strength, but strategy. And that would be the moment her era would begin.

He had been right. It was indeed the era of Namgung Shin. High-ranking figures of the Alliance now gathered in the Namgung estate to seek her counsel, and from her decisions, new order took shape.

Sahyeol Amje gave an honest reply.

“To see what it feels like to wield Gyeokroe-do.”

He could not be bothered to make up another excuse. As he recalled the famed sword forged by lightning, the contents of the Saseogyeong surfaced in his mind. How he had come to read that secret tome still tugged at him.

Love, it had said, was the condition. That only through falling in love could one’s eyes open to the text.

“Then how would this proposal sound?”

Namgung Shin, wasting no time, offered a compromise.

“I shall give you Gyeokroe-do. But in return, I ask that the martial artists’ festival remain theirs alone.”

Her strength lay in her calm judgment, her ability to navigate difficulty with composure. Rather than argue or raise her voice before the Samasa, she had concluded it would be far more rational to offer what he sought and eliminate the greater risk.

The problem was that Sahyeol Amje scoffed at the term she used, “festival of the martial world.”

“My lover is no longer of the martial world?”

Namgung Shin’s expression tightened slightly. Tang Yujae’s gaze turned cold.

“How strange. A man for whom you offered up a spouse in the name of peace, now no longer considered one of you. Surely the righteous sects have not played me false.”

“…”

“If he was not of the martial world to begin with, then what sense is there in any of this?”

“The one who wished for that union was…”

“Myself. Which is why I ask now, was I mistaken in believing peace could be achieved by taking a righteous martial artist as my spouse?”

Seolyeong felt something stir deep in his chest as he heard that voice. His heart quivered again. Tang Yujae sipped his now-cooled tea, as if giving Namgung Shin time to explain herself.

It was an excessive display of support for his bride, and yet the moment had long passed. The face of the spouse who had stood firm even before him to defend the cause of peace floated in his mind like a drifting cloud. The one who had risked his life time and again for the sake of those who rejected him.

Perhaps thinking of the one who might be listening nearby, Tang Yujae allowed a rare trace of tenderness to slip from his Qi.

Hidden behind a tree, Seolyeong lowered his gaze as the subtle presence wrapped around his ankles. For some reason, the corners of his eyes stung. The warmth in his husband’s voice, the way he stood in defense of him, filled him with something he could not name.

‘Even the martial world did not recognize me as one of its own. So why do you…’

He steadied himself and quietly released his disguise. The illusion placed by the Sect Leader remained, but Namgung Shin would recognize him regardless of his eyes’ color.

He deliberately let his presence be known and stepped forward. As his body moved, a gentle breeze embraced him. Yes, he had no reason to fear. Not while the strongest man in the world stood at his side. Not for who he was, nor for where he had come from.

The martial artist of the Namgung clan, whom Seolyeong had always held in admiration, looked at him in astonishment.

“I am the Cheonma Divine Sect’s Gyo-mo, greet the Pale Orchid Sword for the first time. This is our first meeting, isn’t it?”

It was a bold declaration of identity, one that also marked the end of his path as a man of the orthodox sects. Even Tang Yujae furrowed his brow, unable to easily gauge his spouse’s intent.

Surely, after becoming a widow, this man should have returned to the martial world. He should have lived among them. Yet here he was, calling himself the Gyo-mo of the Cheonma Divine Sect.

Tang Yujae spoke as if to restrain him.

“Ahyeong.”

“Why has my honorable husband abandoned my match to enjoy tea and pleasantries instead? I must say, it’s quite wounding.”

But Seolyeong did not yield. With a bright smile, he placed a hand on Sahyeol Amje’s shoulder. It was his way of saying, you are the one who needs to restrain yourself.

In that moment, their two auras collided. Power clashed with a deep, resonant sound, sending the waters of the artificial pond surging with uneven waves.

“If you no longer intend to watch, then I see no reason to continue wasting strength. Why not accept Gyeokroe-do now, return to Yeonhu, and enjoy married life instead? I no longer find the tournament of interest. I shall withdraw. That is acceptable, is it not, Pale Orchid Sword?”

Namgung Shin could tell that the blood fiend was offering her an out. A tournament won by a man of the Demonic Sect, what a desolate and humiliating outcome that would be. If he was withdrawing, then they should be grateful.

“…Of course. That is acceptable.”

“I do apologize for leaving the aftermath to you, but if it is all the same, we would prefer to take our leave as soon as possible.”

As Seolyeong spoke with feigned lightness, attempting to pull Sahyeol Amje to his feet, Namgung Shin noticed the branded character ‘협’ (chivalry) on the back of his neck. She fell into a moment’s silent thought.

Surely the Murong clan had not driven him out after burning such a mark onto him. That left only one conclusion. It must have been carved into his flesh within the Sipman Daesan.

And nothing earned a brand like that for a good reason.

She spoke.

“Is the cold not too harsh where you live?”

“…Pardon?”

Namgung Shin realized she had viewed blood fiends as something entirely separate from the martial world. Even as she offered him up in place of the righteous sects, she had not let go of that prejudice.

“The frost… does it not bring you suffering, Gyo-mo?”

She was referring, clearly, to the cold of Sahyeol Amje’s heart. Understanding this, Seolyeong replied in a tone brighter than usual, as if to comfort her.

“Oh, not to worry. It’s more bearable than one might think. There are times when the sunlight follows me wherever I go. In truth, it may be warmer there than here.”

“Sunlight…?”

It was only natural that Namgung Shin looked puzzled. Martial arts that could affect nature itself, she had never heard of such a thing. Seolyeong merely lifted his shoulders.

The martial world would never know that the man who had cultivated divine brilliance now stood at its summit. But he knew. He knew that man. He received his love. And they resonated with one another.

“Yes. A most radiant sun.”

And so the Sipman Daesan had become his home. This was not a matter of preserving the teachings of the orthodox sects. It was something entirely different.

Looking at Sahyeol Amje, Seolyeong realized that he finally had a place to return to. He simply wished to sit beside the cruelest and kindest man in the world, and share a kiss.

It was no longer something he could deny. He had fallen for this man, and he would not be turning back.