Chapter 249: Return (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 249: Return (2)
Drip.
A cold sweat trickled down his back.
His fists were clenched so tightly they trembled. It was a clear sign of extreme tension, and Hwangbo Cheolwi was acutely aware of his own nervousness.
…I can’t even meet his gaze.
Seated cross-legged, Hwangbo Cheolwi dared not look directly into the eyes staring at him.
This was despite him being a scion of the mighty Hwangbo Clan, one of the most prestigious noble families.
The thought surfaced, only to be forcibly dismissed.
It’s meaningless now.
The world was vast, and the Hwangbo name carried immense weight, but he knew he was too insignificant to live up to it. Changing his attitude to match that honor felt like a distant, impossible task.
Enveloped by the dense, oppressive heat and the thick Qi filling the tent, Hwangbo Cheolwi wondered how he had ended up here.
Why did I come…?
His objective was unclear, yet he knew he had come specifically to see him.
Forcing his stiff neck to move, Hwangbo Cheolwi looked at the man before him.
The man who had utterly overpowered his fierce and formidable brother, Hwangbo Cheok, and brought him to his knees.
True Dragon…
The True Dragon, Gu Yangcheon.
That was the title and name of the person he now faced.
From the moment their eyes had met outside, Hwangbo Cheolwi had known. He had seen Gu Yangcheon stare back and offer a faint, knowing smile.
Did this person truly kill the Sixth Elder?
Hwangbo Cheolwi was aware that Hwangbo Cheok had sent the Sixth Elder to deal with Gu Yangcheon. That was his brother’s way: eliminate any problem or dissatisfaction with extreme prejudice. Gu Yangcheon had simply been unlucky enough to earn his brother’s ire.
…But was that really it?
Despite that logic, Hwangbo Cheolwi had felt a strange unease watching his brother deploy the Sixth Elder against Gu Yangcheon. That was the crux of it.
Could the Sixth Elder, a Fusion Realm expert—a martial artist destined to join the ranks of the world's Hundred Masters—truly harm Gu Yangcheon? A young prodigy, newly famed, who had only just earned the title of 'Dragon'?
…And I thought it was a pointless worry.
He hadn't understood why such a doubt even crossed his mind.
As he lost himself in these memories, a voice cut through the silence.
“I thought the Hwangbo Clan was full of nothing but bears.”
Gu Yangcheon’s words made Hwangbo Cheolwi’s spine stiffen instantly.
“But it seems that’s not entirely accurate.”
“…True Dragon.”
Slam…!
The moment Hwangbo Cheolwi spoke, the table beside him shattered to pieces, the force sending him tumbling to the floor.
Gulping nervously as he stared at the splintered wood, Hwangbo Cheolwi heard Gu Yangcheon’s voice again, cold and precise.
“I don’t care for titles. The next time you use one, it will be your jaw. Understood?”
The tent was small, but the distance between them was significant—not a gap one could bridge with a casual reach. Gu Yangcheon had moved, yet Hwangbo Cheolwi hadn't seen a thing.
…I was watching him directly. The gap between us is this immense?
Gu Yangcheon was roughly two years his junior. Was this a difference in raw talent?
The aura Gu Yangcheon projected, his piercing gaze, the conqueror’s energy radiating from him in palpable waves…
It’s too terrifying to be mere talent.
Their levels were simply too far apart for Hwangbo Cheolwi to comprehend.
As he nervously tried to gauge the situation, Gu Yangcheon posed a question.
“Why are you here?”
“…About that.”
“Keep it short. I’m busy.”
Judging by the frantic activity and noise outside, that was understandable.
“…Are you leaving?”
“I am. I can’t stay here forever.”
While this was good news, Gu Yangcheon’s expression was far from pleased, hinting at some underlying conflict.
“So. Why did you come?”
“…”
“Is it because I beat the shit out of your brother?”
“…!”
Hwangbo Cheolwi choked on his breath, startled by the bluntness.
Gu Yangcheon observed him from head to toe, as if reading his very soul.
“I doubt you came out of some misplaced loyalty to complain.”
Complain? After witnessing his brother's humiliating defeat, Hwangbo Cheolwi knew better.
“…That’s not why I came.”
“I thought not. Snitching to your clan would be faster.”
A simple message—'Hwangbo Cheok was beaten and threatened by Gu Yangcheon of the Gu Clan'—would suffice. His brother’s reputation would plummet, known as one who lost to a young prodigy and was cowed by him. For a noble clan like the Hwangbo, the matter would be handled efficiently.
Yet, Hwangbo Cheolwi hadn't done that. He had merely watched his brother be defeated and threatened.
Why?
…Why.
Why had he felt a secret thrill seeing Hwangbo Cheok utterly destroyed?
He didn’t know.
“Hey. Wake up.”
“…!”
“Why do people always space out on me? Do I look like a joke?”
“…N-No, of course not.”
Who in the world would dare think of Gu Yangcheon as a joke? Hwangbo Cheolwi found the idea absurd.
“I asked why you came.”
“…I came to ask the Tru— no, Brother Gu, a question.”
“You used to be casual with me. Why the sudden formality? It’s creepy.”
“…”
Because I’m afraid you’ll beat me to a pulp…
He didn’t dare voice that thought, fearing it might become a reality. Feeling the cold sweat on his back, Hwangbo Cheolwi finally asked his question.
“…Why didn’t you stop me?”
That day, their eyes had met. Gu Yangcheon could have easily captured or eliminated him then and there. Hwangbo Cheolwi needed to know why he hadn't.
Then.
Ha-
Gu Yangcheon let out a short, soft laugh. What was so amusing?
“You should be grateful I let you go. You came all this way to ask that?”
“…I felt I needed to know.”
“No. That’s not it.”
“What…?”
Gu Yangcheon leaned forward slightly, a spark of interest in his eyes. If that wasn't the reason, then what was?
To Hwangbo Cheolwi’s confusion, Gu Yangcheon spoke slowly, deliberately.
“It’s not that you wanted to know. You came here hoping for something.”
“…!”
“Am I wrong?”
Gu Yangcheon’s soft voice turned into sharp daggers, piercing straight into Hwangbo Cheolwi’s heart.
“Stop playing games. Be clear. I find it irritating.”
Hwangbo Cheolwi was speechless.
When did it start?
When had he begun to realize that the Hwangbo blood he believed was supreme was, in fact, not so special? When had he started feeling ashamed of his former arrogance and condescension?
He couldn’t pinpoint the moment. The embarrassment he felt for his brother, the doubt that things should continue this way—these fragments of rationality had slowly piled up.
“So speak clearly.”
Gu Yangcheon drove the final dagger home.
“Tell me you want my help to take your brother’s place because you think he’s shit.”
Despite the crude phrasing, the words carried immense weight.
“It’s strange you’d ask me of all people, but isn’t that what you want to say?”
Hwangbo Cheolwi wanted to deny it immediately. The struggle for the position of Young Lord had been ongoing for years, and he had been out of the running from the start. He had talent, but not compared to other blood relatives. He wasn't the firstborn, held no significant authority—his situation was far from ideal. How could he even aspire to be Young Lord?
Yet, despite these thoughts, his reply to Gu Yangcheon was clear, though his voice shook.
“…Can you help me?”
“Hmm…”
Gu Yangcheon stared at him, his expression unreadable. To Hwangbo Cheolwi, it felt as if he were being weighed on a scale, with the image of his brother, Hwangbo Cheok, on the other side.
But he felt no regret for his words. Strangely, unlike the hostility directed at his brother, he saw no malice in Gu Yangcheon’s eyes.
* * *
Shit-flavored stew or stew-flavored shit?
That was the problem before me now.
You might wonder what kind of disgusting analogy this is, but it’s what came to mind after sending Hwangbo Cheolwi away.
Hwangbo Cheolwi was the shit-flavored stew. Hwangbo Cheok was the stew-flavored shit. Neither option was particularly appealing.
But if I had to choose, the shit-flavored stew is marginally better.
If pressed, Hwangbo Cheolwi was the slightly preferable choice. I’d intended to use and discard Hwangbo Cheok anyway, which is why I'd laced him with demonic Qi—a convenient disposal method whenever I wished.
Though Hwangbo Cheolwi was a bit different than I expected.
I didn't know much about the guy, just that he was a Hwangbo blood relative. The fact that he hadn't made a name for himself in my past life meant he never truly excelled or gained much influence.
The Lord position, huh.
I couldn't understand why either of them was so obsessed with it. It's a bothersome, responsibility-laden role.
They have no idea how lucky they are to even have a choice.
They probably couldn't appreciate the luxury of having options.
I’ll worry about the Hwangbo bastards later.
I'd acted as if I could help Hwangbo Cheolwi, but in reality, my influence was limited. Placing a blood relative on the clan lord's throne required significant power.
I might be able to pull it off if I were one of the Three Venerables.
It would be possible for one of the omniscient Three Venerables, or perhaps the Four Emperors and Five Kings who ruled the Unorthodox Sect. For me, it was currently impossible.
Though I could probably offer him some assistance.
But that was a problem for Future Me.
I just hope that Hwangbo fatso takes good care of the Silent Fist.
I'd warned both Hwangbo Cheok and Hwangbo Cheolwi to go easy on the Silent Fist, so they should comply. It was oddly amusing, looking out for a subordinate from my past life. A pointless generosity, but it gave me a sense of satisfaction.
But I’ll do it while I still remember. I’ll forget later.
I couldn't possibly help every single person I encountered, so I assisted them one by one as I met them. Otherwise, it would become far too troublesome…
“Young Master, the preparations are complete.”
“Alright.”
A day had passed. As I stretched, a servant approached.
“Shall we depart immediately?”
“Yes. We’ve informed the Alliance. You can transfer to the carriage they send.”
“They should just let me go. How bothersome.”
I had to stop at the Murim Alliance branch on the frontline for an inspection—a tedious but mandatory procedure for those affiliated with the Orthodox Sect.
Tsk.
Clicking my tongue in annoyance, I turned to the person beside me.
“Do you have to go through it too?”
“We’ve already completed the formalities.”
It was Moyong Hi-ah, her face concealed behind a mask.
“You’re done already?”
“We merely needed to send a message.”
“…This unjust world.”
As part of the Four Noble Clans, the Moyong Clan could simply send a letter, unlike my Gu Clan. Power was everything. What a disgusting world.
“What about her? Does she have to go?”
I gestured towards Namgung Bi-ah, who was shuffling toward us, half-asleep.
Moyong Hi-ah’s shoulders twitched slightly at the sight of her.
“…The Sword Dancer has no clan representatives with her. She will likely have to go in person.”
“How bothersome. They really make things complicated.”
As I complained, Namgung Bi-ah approached and rested her chin on my shoulder. It probably wasn't as comfortable as when I was smaller, but she did it anyway, seemingly unconcerned.
“Did you not sleep well?”
She shook her head in response.
“Then why do you look so tired?”
“…I’m… sleepy.”
“How can you be sleepy if you slept? Go lie down if you’re tired.”
“…Kay.”
Namgung Bi-ah began to move, then suddenly shifted her gaze to Moyong Hi-ah. Their eyes locked, and both stared without flinching. As I wondered what this was about, since it had been going on for a while,
“…Hmph.”
Moyong Hi-ah snorted and turned to rejoin the rest of her clan.
Watching her leave, Namgung Bi-ah clenched her fist lightly and whispered to me.
“…I won.”
“…Huh?”
What did you win? A staring contest…? It seemed like some bizarre competition, but her unusual reaction made me decide not to pry. I had other things to focus on anyway.
“I had no plans to take a break…!”
It was Gu Huibi, being seen off by members of the Swordsmen Army. Her constant complaints whenever she was sent away were a headache.
Sighing deeply, I walked over to her.
“Stop whining. You were the one who once begged to come with me.”
“My brother should be enough… so why am I being dragged along!”
“Did I ask you? It was Father’s order. Seriously, scheming to get out of it? You’re the eldest daughter.”
There was no special reason Gu Huibi had to return to the clan with me, especially since she claimed she’d received no such order. I’d simply gotten a letter commanding her return as well.
You are not running away.
Considering Mi Hyoran’s personality, I could understand why Gu Huibi was so reluctant to go back. She was the only one who could make Gu Huibi obey like a scared mouse. But her incessant complaining was still frustrating.
“Jeez, let’s just go!”
In the end, I had to drag Gu Huibi along myself.
Gu Jeolyub was once again tasked with leading the carriage. Seeing him prepare without being told gave me a rare sense of pride.
If only he were this proactive about everything else. I’ll have him learn his lesson by making him roll around later.
“Hgh…!?”
I saw Gu Jeolyub glance around warily, sensing something amiss. He was sharp when it came to things like that.