Camellia 44

There’s a limit to shamelessness. Seolyeong, who despised sexist drivel directed at women far more than sexual harassment toward himself, clicked his tongue.

“I heard from the attendants the other day that the world you built is better than the one where men who treat women like dirt run rampant in the martial world. I suppose that was all a lie.”

In the end, his chronic illness flared up again. The name of that illness was teacher complex. If there was even a sliver of something to correct, he would relentlessly nitpick it. Even Murong Wi, who cherished him dearly, had at times told him to tone it down.

“Would you have acted the same toward my little sister?”

It was a bold question, thrown purely to provoke the Sect Leader.

“Would you have treated her with the same arrogance, announcing your intent to violate her as if she were a worm to be crushed underfoot?”

At first, Seolyeong had even tried coaxing him, going so far as to let out breathy hums. Just as the Sect Leader had pointed out, he was a bride who had been sold in exchange for peace.

The blood flowing through his body was his original sin.

The blood fiends that once plunged Jungwon into hell had sated their vile appetites on the blood of virgins and children. They’d kidnapped infants, saying the blood of the young was the sweetest, killed elders for sport, and ripped out the guts of men to offer them to the Cheonma.

The weight of that sin was so immense it could never be repaid in a lifetime. That was why Seolyeong had chosen to become Sahyeol Amje’s bride. He had done so in place of his sister, and in place of the martial world. As long as he was in Yeonhu, a tragedy like before would never be repeated.

He would prevent it before it began.

So he knew he had to keep his temper in check. But it wasn’t so easy. Instinct compelled him to provoke the Sect Leader.

“You’d have nothing to say even with ten mouths, would you, Husband?”

“……”

“Haha… You won’t even offer an excuse, will you? How very dignified of you.”

Seolyeong mocked, locking eyes with the Sect Leader as if daring him to respond. His gaze burned with anger. Resting his chin on one hand, the Sect Leader nodded calmly.

“Yeah. I’m not obligated to satisfy your curiosity.”

Some people paid off debts with a single word. Others accrued them just as easily. The Sect Leader was the latter.

“You’re nothing to me, after all.”

Seolyeong, silent until now, replied coldly.

“…I am your bride, Sect Leader. Did you not send a handwritten proposal? You asked for the Camellias of the North. You even said you wanted to have a child. You were the one who said you wanted to build a family with someone from the righteous path. Am I wrong?”

His teeth ground together. Seolyeong made no attempt to hide his rising irritation. The Sect Leader stared at the vein bulging on Seolyeong’s smooth forehead with fascination. A sincere question escaped his lips.

“You don’t seem to be afraid of me.”

The way he not only talked back but demanded acknowledgment for his outrage was absolutely riveting. Especially considering that the bride before him had lost his danjeon by the Sect Leader’s own hand not long ago. The injury had been so serious that even Yuwon had rebuked him. And yet here Seolyeong was, holding his head high.

Was it empty bravado, or true courage?

Seolyeong answered calmly.

“Do you wish for me to fear you, Husband? Then become a true gentleman with honor. I’ve always feared the great warriors whose noble spirits and kind hearts were beyond the reach of ordinary people. When I stand before them, I feel unbearably small.”

Ah, so it’s bravado after all.

Tang Yujae had seen plenty like this when he conquered Mount Hwasan.

The prideful Daoists hadn’t bowed even as corpses piled beneath Nakhan Peak. In fact, the more they sacrificed, the more their resolve intensified. Only after an earthquake cracked the mountain, causing a landslide to bury villages below, did the headmaster finally surrender by throwing down his sword.

But even that hadn’t been true surrender.

The headmaster of Hwasan, walking out with his disciples, had shouted boldly,

“Do not grovel for life before the Madu! We are of Hwasan!”

Not a single one of the Hwasan disciples lost the fire in their eyes, so Tang Yujae had pressed a red-hot iron to the headmaster’s eyeballs. Even blind, the old master kept wagging his tongue, claiming the righteous path still glimmered in the dark. So Tang Yujae handed him a sword again, and poisoned him.

Once the headmaster realized he had killed his own disciples, he fell into a pit of despair. He cursed the world, wept tears of blood from his ruined eyes.

Tang Yujae made sure he couldn’t die. He struck his pressure points and dragged him to Sipman Daesan, keeping him alive until the martial world purge was complete. Once he crowned himself the ruler of Jungwon, he invited the young warriors of Hwasan to Sipman Daesan.

The Hwasan disciples, believing their master had betrayed them and joined the demonic sect, accepted the invitation and begged to see his face one last time. The ever-generous Cheonsin made it happen.

“Permission granted.”

When the disciples entered the Yurigung, the headmaster fell to his knees and smashed his forehead to the ground, weeping in terror. He could barely form words, as if he already knew what would happen. Watching this, Tang Yujae was satisfied.

Yes. No one stays courageous forever. Even the old tiger of Hwasan, who once feared neither his own death nor anyone else’s, had turned into a coward who feared death more than anything. He begged shamelessly.

“They’re just brash young ones. They are the future of Hwasan, so please, I beg you, let them go…”

Of course, Tang Yujae refused. What did any of that have to do with him?

He ordered a subordinate skilled in shadow-following techniques to control the old man’s body like a puppet. Using him as a chess piece, he had him slaughter the young Hwasan warriors. The master’s mind was shattered. Drowning in guilt and helplessness, the old man screamed until his throat tore.

“Please, no more! Haven’t you done enough to me already?!”

The tiger who once rallied disciples to die with pride had vanished, leaving behind only a plucked goose flailing in disgrace.

Once freed from the technique, the old master embraced the corpses and admitted defeat. He begged, trembling, to have his limbs cut off so he could no longer harm anyone, swearing to serve the sect as a god.

Tang Yujae nodded. Then killed him on the spot.

Offering one’s life was, after all, a valid form of devotion to a god.

It had taken just one month to completely crush the soul of Hwasan’s headmaster.

How long would you last?

Tang Yuwon took a sip of Giwon Eight Hundred Liquor, a spirit with a clean, refined finish. The drink had been personally brewed for him by Cheonwang Cho Unrim, a famed drunkard and one of the Eight Pavillons Lords supporting the Cheonma Divine Sect.

Cho Unrim, lord of the Jipilgak¹, handled diplomacy with Daemak and Pasa. Whenever he went on trade missions, he would collect rare medicinal herbs and make healing wine for the Sect Leader.

Now that a subordinate had poured him a drink, he might as well enjoy it properly.

And nothing paired with a drink better than the screams of a righteous man.

“You seem to revere chivalry, so I’ll give you a gift.”

A dark green gleam passed through his pitch-black eyes. The unbearable killing intent crashed down on Seolyeong.

It all happened before he realized.

Seolyeong fell from his chair, clutching his throat as he gasped soundlessly for air.

A burning heat radiated from his nape.

An invisible force tore through his skin, carving something into his flesh.

The character for Chivalry (俠).

A scream of agony erupted from his lips.

“Aaagh!”

The Sect Leader refilled his empty cup, calmly savoring the sound.

Blood gushed from Seolyeong’s graceful nape, pooling at his feet.

Seolyeong stared at him with dazed eyes. The Sect Leader, who had splashed some leftover wine on him, said,

“Now that it’s disinfected, we just need to stitch it up.”

“Ugh…!”

“Once the wound heals, we’ll consummate the marriage.”

Seolyeong jerked in pain like someone who had salt rubbed into an open wound. After delivering his message, the Sect Leader left him there and returned to Gwanju Hall.

Later, Si Pungjae carried the collapsed bride on his back straight to the medical wing.

Yuwon’s fury only grew when she saw that the patient she had just barely saved had been turned into a wreck all over again.

1. “Paper and Brush Pavilion” or “Hall of Writing.” ↩︎