Chapter 63
Chapter 63
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Stench or Fragrance (3)
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"Hah!"
A flash!
The swordsmen's synchronized swings were fairly impressive.
At the very least, their basics seemed solid. It was a far cry from the Flower Sword Squad.
"Not bad."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Their swordsmanship."
They weren't elites, but they were training openly without a care. That spoke volumes about their confidence.
Hong Myeong bowed his head slightly.
"It's hardly worthy of praise from Young Master Murong."
"If you saw our house's swordsmen, you'd swallow those words."
"You mean the Flower Sword Squad?"
"Not Flower Sword—more like weed whackers. All flash, no substance."
Hong Myeong glanced at Murong Bi's face.
There wasn't a hint of tension in his bored expression.
"I ignored the house for years and only started paying attention lately, but they're a disaster. Their sword paths are a mess, their stances sloppy, and they've got stamina to burn, so they just swing harder in all the wrong ways. How could that not grind my gears?"
"...I see."
"It's mostly my fault for tuning out the family. Still, swordsmen who can't even nail the basics? Useless."
He was clicking his tongue in genuine annoyance—no one could fake that reaction.
Hong Myeong was inwardly flustered.
'What kind of guy is he?'
This wasn't humility; he was straight-up trashing them.
No matter how dissatisfied he was, it wasn't easy to gripe like that to an outsider. Given the Murong family's situation, you'd think he'd inflate even the flaws.
"Your place is really nice, though."
"Is it?"
"Great location, and the buildings inside—clearly put together with real care. Classy."
He looked genuinely impressed, maybe even a touch envious.
'...I really can't figure him out.'
Hong Myeong thought he'd met plenty of people in his line of work, but this one was utterly unpredictable.
"Thank you for the compliment."
"You said this is the patriarch's quarters?"
"Yes."
"Hmm."
Murong Bi stopped walking.
"Something wrong?"
"Does the patriarch drop by the outer compound often?"
Hong Myeong tensed again, though he didn't show it. What was this guy getting at now?
"I'm not sure. I've been busy myself lately."
"Probably not often."
Why did that matter? Still, politeness demanded he ask.
"What makes you say that?"
"The whole clan's got a sharp edge to it. Disciplined, structured."
That much was true.
"But look at those training swordsmen. No tension, no pressure on their faces. They're swinging freely—fine sometimes, sure."
"...?"
"If the patriarch visited regularly, you wouldn't see expressions like that."
"You're saying the swordsmen seem lax?"
"No tension."
Hong Myeong looked at the swordsmen.
Now that he mentioned it, they did seem relaxed.
"Training vibes vary by personality, martial arts, organization. But the clan's atmosphere doesn't match theirs."
"...Is that so?"
"So here's my proposal."
Murong Bi pointed to a low, flat rock behind the training swordsmen.
"To give them a little tension, mind asking if I can grab a drink there?"
"Th-there?!"
Even the cool-headed Hong Myeong stuttered.
"Bamboo grove behind the rock. Great view—perfect for a drink. Watching them train isn't bad either."
"Young Master Murong, don't misunderstand. The patriarch has prepared extensively for you..."
"Right now, I'm not the Sword Clan's heir—I'm the Crimson Sword Captain, aren't I?"
"..."
"Ask him once. If he says come in, I will."
His sly grin said he had no intention of going inside.
Hong Myeong's eyes narrowed.
'Not a pushover.'
What else could this mean but preparing for the worst?
The outer compound was fine, but once inside the inner one, escape wouldn't be an option. Real masters lurked there.
Of course, neither he nor his father had any plans to harm Murong Bi here, but from his perspective, caution was natural.
Hong Myeong started to nod, then paused with a sudden thought.
"Feeling tense, by any chance?"
It was a subtle jab.
Scared now, after coming this far?
Murong Bi's shoulders trembled.
"Wouldn't you be, stepping into a powerhouse like the Hong Sword Clan alone? Of course."
No retort to that.
"Don't take it bad. If we're drinking anyway, might as well be comfortable. You're hosting me—least you can do is respect your guest's tastes."
Utterly shameless.
Hong Myeong stared at him for a moment, then nodded.
"Wait here a moment. I'll relay your proposal to the patriarch."
"No trouble from me—take your time."
As helpful as a kick in the teeth.
Hong Myeong turned and headed toward the inner compound.
Murong Bi inwardly clicked his tongue.
'What a messed-up family.'
He'd never met the Ten Sword Sect sisters, but the Hong Sword Clan brothers were anything but normal.
'Even after his little brother got wrecked, how's he so cold?'
Hong In had crossed a line, and Hong Myeong's response as captain had been near-perfect.
But no sorrow or rage for his battered blood kin?
'Felt more like he was thrilled.'
You couldn't hide that.
Having accepted a fragment of the demonic, his body made it even harder to evade Murong Bi's senses. The Brain Gate Heart Technique was hyper-activated.
He glanced toward the main gate.
'That guy's got some moves, at least.'
The activated technique quickly detected the shadowy figure stealthily scaling the high wall.
He'd known about the shadow already. Without prior awareness, spotting it from this distance would've been tough.
'Figured the slave bit bruised his pride, but he's still doing his job.'
If the shadow had sensed the clan on the way back, he might've split from the Crimson Swords trio at the market. Not fully trustworthy yet.
Shaking off thoughts of the shadow, he scanned the surroundings again.
'No demonic shadow hanging over this place.'
Where true demonic humans lurked, the air itself changed.
A stifling heaviness you couldn't quite describe—a mood-killing aura.
Others might miss it, but Murong Bi knew. That's why demonic humans were treated like plagues.
'Looks normal. No real backup? Or...'
He pondered deeply, then shook his head.
'Can't say for sure yet.'
Nothing certain until he spoke with the patriarch.
'Man, I've been pretty impulsive.'
He'd always been that way, but given the stakes, some restraint might've been wise.
Not for any grand reason.
'Wonder if she's stomping around in a panic right now.'
Murong Sujing and Murong Suhyang came to mind.
Sujing would be fine—worried, but not reckless. She aimed to be patriarch, wise and naturally calm.
Suhyang was the issue.
...Tch.
Probably snorting like a wild boar, telling him to get beaten black and blue first.
A peaceful smile crossed Murong Bi's face.
Not long since his resurrection, yet the girls felt like old friends after years together.
Just thinking of them brought a grin.
'You two, train hard. Power turns lies into truth. Shouldn't be that way, but the world doesn't touch the strong.'
Thinking of them naturally led to his older brother and Daeho.
'Big brother.'
Why now?
Suddenly, he recalled the report of his brother ambushed by Holy Blood Palace demonic humans.
Furious, he'd insisted on rushing over, but somehow his brother had come to the Martial Alliance.
'Brother! You okay?'
'Haha, fine. Lucky Old Man Gwak was there.'
'Those sneaky bastards—how long had they been gunning for you?'
'Ahem! Alliance Leader, mind your dignity.'
'Dignity? Screw that. These maggot scum—we declare all-out war and crush them to the ends of the earth...!'
'Hey, calm down and hear me out first.'
'Grand Marshal! Where's the Grand Marshal!'
'You idiot! I came to report—settle down!'
His fond smile turned bittersweet.
'Good times.'
War raged, but it reeked of humanity.
Grateful to return in this old body and serve the clan again. Got to see grown Sujing and Suhyang too.
Still, his identity was Murong Cheon.
Those chaotic times were tough for all, but he'd wanted to grow old peacefully with his peers—not drop twenty years into the future.
Not that he'd ever imagined it.
'...'
Recalling that conversation, his wry smile slowly grew serious.
'What is it?'
Something itched at the edge of his mind.
'Why this nagging feeling...'
Something was on the tip of his tongue.
Why this unease now? What was wrong?
'Huh?'
Replaying his talk with Murong Heon, Murong Bi's eyes widened.
"No way?"
Old Man Gwak surfaced.
Gwak Hogun's battered form escorting his brother aged gradually into the current Old Man Gwak.
"...!"
A chill ran down his spine.
"Gwak... are you perhaps...?"
Then—
Creeeak.
Far off, the inner compound gate opened, the sound carrying all the way here.
Murong Bi, staring blankly at the sky, hardened his expression.
'Yeah, maybe that's it.'
Empty dantian, no inner power. Crippled legs.
And that nagging sense in his head.
'If I'm right...'
Murong Bi closed his eyes.
Gwak Hogun's younger self appeared: eyes full of loyalty, honest face mismatched with his stubbornness, straightforward personality.
'Gwak. No, Old Man Gwak.'
His fist clenched involuntarily.
'Looks like we've got a lot to talk about.'
Whoosh!
A subtle breeze carried a powerful presence.
Murong Bi slowly opened his eyes and turned.
A man in his late forties or early fifties approached, carrying a bundle. Taller than the eldest son Hong Myeong despite his age. His robes hid a well-honed physique, steps light as a feather.
Zuuum.
The dormant Brain Gate Heart Technique stirred.
A deeper, richer resonance than with Hong Myeong.
"I glimpsed you once before, but you look entirely different now."
The man—Hong Junak—smiled.
Over his sharp, irritable features, a ghostly mask flickered like an illusion before vanishing.
"Allow me a proper greeting. I am the one leading the Hong Sword Clan."
Murong Bi slowly formed a fist salute.
"Murong Bi."
"Meeting the most famous man in Wushan like this."
Hong Junak's smile deepened.
"A rare sight, wouldn't you say?"
A similar smile touched Murong Bi's face.
One that hid true feelings while looking down on the other.
"Treasures are hard to come by, after all."