Brotherly Love
Brotherly Love
The Gu Family is an extraordinary lineage.
To give you an idea of just how extraordinary—they could manipulate national leaders like puppets if they so desired.
Of course, the same could be said of the other Three Great Families, so it's not exactly a unique boast. And they rarely interfere in ordinary human society anyway. It's easier to just think of them as beings who wield that kind of power.
At this point, someone might ask: Why don't they exert influence over human society? Or perhaps, Are they holding back because they see the Management Bureau as a thorn in their side?
A fairly reasonable question.
But at the same time, it's also a stupid one—one that betrays a fundamental misunderstanding of mages.
The families don't extend their hands into human affairs. Not to maintain balance, nor because someone is stopping them.
The reason is simple: human society is beneath their notice.
Think about it. A person climbing a mountain spots an anthill by the path. What do they do next?
Do they linger for days, fascinated by the ants? Do they scatter snacks and become worshipped as gods by the insects? Or do they pour water from a bottle into the anthill and laugh as the ants float away, drowning?
Wrong on all counts. The correct answer is: They ignore it and keep walking.
To the mages of the great families, ordinary humans are no different from ants.
A single gesture could crush them—whether human or insect, it makes no difference.
So unless they intrude into their domain, the families leave ordinary humans alone. They don't even spare them a second thought.
But magicians are different.
The mages' rejection of magicians stretches back to ancient times. Mages, by nature, are an exclusive bunch, and they've never taken kindly to the Mysteries of magicians—an entirely different power from their own magic.
Just how much do they dislike them? Enough to hurl abuse at the mere sight of one. Enough to take their lives if provoked.
In short, mages loathe magicians.
But the reasons go beyond the absurd ones mentioned above.
In the past, during the Industrial Revolution, as the unknown corners of the world were being mapped and the power of Mystery waned, magicians declared war on the mages. Countless mages lost their lives in that conflict, and their influence shrank.
Put simply, they really didn't like being attacked. That's the biggest reason for their hatred.
Of course, the magicians only started the war because the mages had been treating them like slaves. Frankly, the mages got what they deserved. The oppression must have been unbearable for the magicians to rise up despite the overwhelming difference in power.
But honestly, debating who was right or wrong now is pointless.
In the past, one might cautiously argue that the mages—who exploited and abused magicians—were the villains. But considering the atrocities magicians committed in their struggle for sovereignty in modern times, they don't exactly come off as the good guys either.
Everyone knows this, but the difference in combat power between mages and magicians is vast.
Magic can be wielded freely from the moment of awakening, like an extension of one's body. But mastering sorcery takes years of dedication. The baseline output is different, and magicians have never been numerous. The advantage has always lain with the mages.
But the magicians of old devised weapons to counter them.
The most infamous of these weapons were the Ghouls—beings with high resistance to Mystery, serving as tanks to push forward. Even now, they remain a significant threat to mages.
Well, creating Ghouls to fight mages was one thing.
No one could blame them for struggling to break free from slavery.
But in the process, the magicians crossed a line.
They used ordinary humans—those ignorant of Mystery—as materials to create Ghouls.
Unsurprisingly, it wasn't the mages who objected.
Even as enemies, mages had no taboo against involving ordinary humans.
If they could have used them, they would have rounded up tens of thousands to forge into weapons.
Some magicians did feel pangs of conscience, but those desperate to escape slavery weren't about to protest.
Of course, there were those with a shred of decency—but they were swiftly lynched by their peers.
So who did raise objections?
That would be one of the 9th Class Mages who stood at the pinnacle of power at the time.
A quick aside: by the time a mage reaches 9th Class, they stop caring about factions.
They couldn't care less how many mages die.
But she was different. Despite being a 9th Class Mage, she had an inexplicable interest in ordinary humans. Horrified by the civilian casualties in the war between magic and sorcery, she intervened.
Naturally, her appearance brought the war to a stalemate, and soon after, the fighting ceased.
The mages hoped she would side with them, but to their dismay, she only cared about the civilians. In the end, the magicians won their freedom, and the mages were left battered and robbed.
After the war, she brought the organization she had been managing into the open as a safeguard—what is now known as the Management Bureau.
Since then, the Bureau has mediated conflicts between mages and magicians. And to this day, it has done so without major incident.
That's not to say there haven't been smaller incidents. The events in Korea at the turn of the century would make anyone gasp.
Back then, there was a barbaric custom where mages gained recognition by slaughtering magicians.
Displaying magicians' heads on the Great Gate was part of daily life.
But all that is ancient history now.
Few mages today harbor that level of hatred for magicians, and the magicians who remembered the days of slavery have all passed on.
Even now, with mages oppressing magicians and the latter unable to resist, it's a relatively peaceful era compared to the past.
That said, some who lived through those times still remain.
One of them was Elder Woo.
Recognized for his achievements in beheading countless magicians, he was appointed as a family elder despite barely qualifying as a 7th Class Archmage.
A true case of being born in the right era.
Even now, twenty years later, he remains at 7th Class. Had he been born in a different time, he would never have come close to the elder position.
Despite his luck, Elder Woo made it his hobby to nitpick and boss around MZ-generation mages.
Naturally, he was widely disliked.
But at the same time, he occasionally received looks of awe—not because of his position, but because of his realm.
7th Class.
Far below the other elders, but his status was undeniable.
From 7th Class onward, one is truly recognized as an Archmage. He had reached the realm countless mages dreamed of.
Many frowned at his nagging, but just as many shone with admiration at his power.
That's the kind of man he was.
"Elder Woo!!"
Now, you might wonder why I'm bringing him up.
The reason is simple.
The headless corpse lying there was him.
"What the hell happened?!"
"I don't know either!"
His subordinates, who had been following him, panicked noisily.
The other mages who had been awaiting his arrival were no different.
They couldn't hide their shock. None dared move. A 7th Class Mage had died suddenly for no apparent reason—who would be next? Fear kept them rooted in place.
"Heh heh."
But Gu Se-chan was different.
"What's all this about?"
He glanced at Elder Woo's body, then walked toward Si-woo.
Se-chan didn't know why Elder Woo had died. And he didn't care.
He didn't fear death.
"Huh?"
On his way to Si-woo, his eyes met Yu-jeong's as she crawled along the ground.
"Oh, impressive."
He marveled at her stealth. She moved like an assassin—unnaturally skilled at concealment.
Si-woo's group crossed the corridor of a traditional Korean hanok, the air thick with old-world charm. Each step on the wooden floor sent pleasant vibrations through the soles of their feet.
Since this was the family's outer grounds, laborers were busy with chores—hanging laundry, sweeping floors.
"Ordinary humans?"
"A bit different. They were born here, raised alongside mages their whole lives. They handle all the tedious grunt work."
Se-chan explained casually as he led the way. Si-woo watched his back and asked,
"So where are we headed now?"
"The treasure vault. Might find what you're looking for there. I'll grab a few things for myself while we're at it."
Despite the audacity of bringing an outsider into the family vault, Se-chan's face was playfully smug. Si-woo inwardly praised his own luck in making such a friend and matched his stride.
"Originally, I planned to sneak in, but since you got that symbol, I adjusted the plan. With that, we can walk right in."
"Is that so?"
Se-chan glanced over his shoulder at Si-woo.
"By the way, why not take off that stuffy bandage? You look like a proper mage without it. Any reason you keep it on?"
"Well..."
Si-woo hesitated, searching for an excuse.
Sshhk—
A chilling, razor-thin sound split the air—like flesh being sliced.
A vivid red line appeared across Se-chan's pale nape in an instant. Then, as if suppressed pressure had burst free, blood sprayed in all directions.
Se-chan's head tumbled to the ground.
"KYAAAH!"
Yu-jeong screamed.
Watching a person's head get severed isn't an everyday sight, so her reaction was understandable.
But what shocked her even more was the grotesque spectacle that followed.
"Oof. Now, that was just rude."
Despite having lost his head, Se-chan's body didn't collapse. Instead, it remained standing, perfectly balanced.
His torso bent at the knees with eerie naturalness, then scooped up his own head with both hands as if retrieving a precious object.
"You've returned alive from your mission."
"The Great Young Master himself coming to greet a mongrel like me? Did the sun rise in the west today?"
A man in golden robes emerged from the blind spot as if he had always been there. His features were sharp and cold.
In his hand was a sword, its edge gleaming lethally—yet not a single drop of blood clung to it despite having just beheaded Se-chan.
"No need for such words. Celebrating my younger brother's safe return is only natural."
"Haha! Didn't know you had it in you to lie so brazenly."
Se-chan acted as though losing his head was no big deal.
Holding his own head in one hand, he tilted his body and shot his half-brother a crooked look.
"So, what's the occasion?"
"Hmm. Shouldn't you answer my question first?"
The Great Young Master dismissed the query lightly. His sharp gaze shot past Se-chan, landing on Si-woo like an arrow.
"Answer me. Why is an outsider wearing the family's sacred treasure, the Black Star Heavenly Silk?"
The moment the question left his lips, Se-chan's mouth twisted into a grin.
"Keh, kuh—HAHAHA!"
He tried to cover his mouth, but the mocking laughter spilled out.
"Why the hell should I tell you?!"
The Great Young Master's eyes darkened at the taunt.
"If you need a reason, I'll give you one."
His hand moved in an invisible arc—far faster than human eyes could track.
Swish—CRACK!
A single slash, yet the sound of dozens of cuts overlapped.
A moment later, Se-chan's body was reduced to an unrecognizable pile of meat.
Blood spilled across the freshly cleaned floor, staining it red. The scattered chunks of flesh were another matter entirely.
Yu-jeong, who had witnessed the horror head-on, was on the verge of fainting.
Despite having weathered countless storms as an idol, even she couldn't remain composed before such a sight.
But Si-woo was the exact opposite.
"You two get along well."
He nodded sincerely, as if envious, and stared at the pile of meat that had once been Se-chan.
Yu-jeong turned to him, bewildered.
"I used to be like that too."
His eyes, visible through the bandages, were filled with nostalgia.
Si-woo meant it.
Not that he'd ever not meant it.
He was always sincere.