Camellia 170 (End)

In the end, Choseon accepted Seolyeong’s request. Standing beside the Mad Bride, he took his steps in rhythm with the lively music played by the musicians. The boisterous sound filled Sipman Daesan, especially Yeonhu Mountain where the Yurigung stood. The spirited sound of the guzheng roused excitement, and the sect members carrying the red palanquin all began to chant in unison.

“Ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand years more!”

“Idiots. If you’re going to chant, you might as well sing a proper song.” Clicking his tongue, Seolyeong peeked through the small window in the palanquin to glance at Choseon’s profile. Sensing the stare, Choseon turned his head sharply and whispered.

“Fix your face, will you. What kind of bride makes that expression?”

Wearing a wedding robe of mixed black and red, with his hair luxuriously let down, Seolyeong did, as always, look like the self-proclaimed most beautiful under the heavens. But his naturally sulky expression was splashed across his face, so he didn’t look particularly radiant.

“Are you finally feeling nervous now that the wedding’s actually happening?”

Choseon asked, just in case, and Seolyeong shook his head firmly.

In truth, the camellia’s cranky mood came from a petty reason no one else could really grasp.

‘Why do I, of all people, have to be the last to see my husband?’

He was thoroughly irritated by the wedding procedure that said he wouldn’t see the groom until they arrived at the ceremonial hall. That he, the bride, would be the very last one to lay eyes on the splendidly dressed Sahyeol Amje. Honestly, what kind of ridiculous tradition was that?

Adjusting the heavy golden crown, Seolyeong stuck his face out through the window. Choseon scolded him.

“You’re the bride, act like one!”

“Even if I don’t act like one, everyone already knows who the bride is today.”

With that shameless attitude, Choseon was the only one suffering. One of the Eight Pavilion Lords, whose role had been stolen by an outsider, was already staring daggers from the end of the procession, and now the bride himself was making an absolute scene.

Seolyeong didn’t care. He secretly passed a message to Sahyeol Amje.

─You’re not allowed to sneak off just because I’m not there.

A soft reply immediately brushed his ear.

─If you’re so antsy, you can come running over yourself.

─Really?

Tempted, Seolyeong asked again, and the moment the palanquin reached the bridge connected to hall, he threw open the door. The decisive motion startled Choseon, who had been planning to open it for him.

According to proper custom, the escort was supposed to offer their hand, and the demure bride would gently place theirs over it. Seolyeong didn’t bother. He extended his own hand to Choseon and jerked his chin.

“Let’s go already, Mumyeong. I’m getting antsy just sitting here.”

“Why’d you even ask me to escort you if you were gonna scold me?”

Despite shouting back, Choseon obediently took his hand. The camellia really didn’t seem cut out for ceremonies. Then again, someone with a personality like his was never going to go along quietly with a typical wedding.

When the two of them reached the end of the bridge, a school of golden carp leapt from the blue water, as if welcoming the bride. A splash struck Choseon’s cheek. Startled out of his wits, he let go of the hand he was holding and fell on his rear. Seolyeong burst into laughter.

“Hahahaha!”

Choseon glared at him with all the resentment he could muster. The festive mood vanished in an instant.

Choseon scrambled to his feet, forgetting that this was Sahyeol Amje’s territory, and tried to shove Seolyeong off the bridge. But the heavy drumbeats of the incoming procession blocked him. The occasional clear ring of the bianzhong only added to the grandeur of the Amje’s arrival. an ancient Chinesemusical instrument consisting of a set of bronze bells, played melodically.

Lifting the red fan to cover his face, Seolyeong asked quietly.

─Is your heart fluttering too, my husband?

Wearing an ornate golden crown, Sahyeol Amje looked elegant and dignified, like a noble son who had descended through the Heavenly Gate. As expected of someone from a renowned family, his bearing was exceptional.

Now, the bride was supposed to bow toward him every few steps, but Seolyeong just stood still and asked again.

─You won’t be looking away from me from now on, will you?

Choseon stepped back in a hurry, overwhelmed by the force of Sahyeol Amje’s presence coming from afar. That kind of terrifying aura couldn’t be endured by an ordinary civilian. How his friend was withstanding it bare-handed was a mystery. The world of martial artists truly made no sense.

Seolyeong asked again.

─No matter what hardship comes our way, you’ll put me before fate, won’t you?

─If it’s for you, anything.

Tang Yujae glanced at the wedding fan covering the bride’s face, as if it were a nuisance, and replied. Even after that, Seolyeong kept asking him this and that. Each time, Sahyeol Amje answered with, “For you,” and as Seolyeong’s face lit up with satisfaction, he asked one final question to confirm his sincerity.

─Will you love me as we wait together for that faraway day to come?

Only with this question did his voice tremble slightly at the end. Sahyeol Amje nodded and said,

─Yes. That’s for me.

That short answer made Seolyeong overwhelmed with emotion. He gripped the end of the fan more tightly. He wanted to run into his husband’s arms right that moment, but if he did, the Eight Pavilion Lords’ fury would surely turn the wedding into chaos. He took a breath and slowly moved his feet.

Crash! A thunderous crash tore through the sky, and between the clouds appeared a brilliant, multicolored light. Surrounded by that light, something was falling at terrifying speed.

The Mad Bride and Sahyeol Amje both turned instinctively. Even Seolyeong dropped the fan in a daze.

“…Mutt!”

Order is reversed, Heaven is overturned.

Strange characters were inscribed on the body of Seonwol-do, which had pierced through solid marble and embedded itself into the ground. Seolyeong’s eyes turned red. He looked at Sahyeol Amje, his expression asking what in the world this meant. Tang Yujae took the fan from his hands and gently pushed his back.

“Seems even the new heavens are watching over you.”

A peaceful smile played on his lips. Still stunned, Seolyeong approached Seonwol-do. Up close, it was even clearer.

Mutt had returned.

The sword’s warm energy swirled like a dance. Though it was a joyful reunion, Seolyeong’s eyes filled with tears. A sword he thought he’d only meet again in the afterlife was now radiating such a brilliant glow. And judging by its aura, it had gained even greater power than when it disappeared behind the Heavenly Gate after ascending the stairway of light.

Seolyeong, who had secretly held resentment toward the imugi, hesitated for a moment, but soon looked up at the sky with a moved expression. Then he carefully picked up Seonwol-do. Boom! The earth shook again and a tremor surged through the air.

The ascended imugi spoke, its voice playful as always. Tang Yujae etched it in his mind.

─The Wonsi Cheonjon seemed to have a special fondness for that one. I figured I’d take the chance to leave an impression too.

The imugi turned dragon laughed lazily, then spoke again, this time in a divine voice.

─But… lucky mortal.

Seolyeong quickly turned to his husband.

─How does it feel to find love beyond death?

Tang Yujae slowly opened his arms. So that his bride could run into them as he wanted.

That would be answer enough.

Seolyeong dashed toward the husband waiting for him, his footsteps swift. The sword in his hand pulsed with joy. Sahyeol Amje embraced his beloved bride with all his strength. At last, Seolyeong could truly believe it. That this great man, who could make flowers bloom even in the middle of winter, had come to love him.

And so he could swear it with confidence.

‘I’ll love you more.’

There was no need for a wedding banquet. Forget formalities and rules. Seolyeong buried his face in his husband’s shoulder, and Sahyeol Amje gently kissed his soft hair.

Of all the flowers he had ever made bloom, the one that bloomed most tenderly had finally brought a single flower of pure love to bloom in his own life. Like a fresh blossom celebrating its first full bloom, it filled their hearts with endless warmth.

The soul of the strongest man under the heavens, who had achieved an unprecedented level of mastery, now belonged to a camellia.

<The Camellia of the Demonic Sect Blooms with Pure Love>

The End.