The Successor of Taeheo (2)
Thanks to Dang Mun-yeong’s so-called “consideration,” Seomun Hwan ended up attending the Poison Emperor’s seventieth birthday banquet.
The banquet was far more lavish and grand than he had expected—and far more boring.
True to the Tang Clan’s soaring momentum these days, they had spared no expense. Rare delicacies and fine wine never ran dry, while renowned musicians and Peking opera performers delivered one breathtaking act after another.
Yet Seomun Hwan felt nothing but bone-deep tedium.
The reason was simple.
‘Yaaawn. They drag a guy all the way here and then do absolutely nothing?’
They had clearly invited him with some scheme in mind. Since the Tang Clan was famous for its poisons, he had been waiting for them to slip him something nasty—poison, laxatives, anything. But strangely, they had done nothing at all.
‘Are these really the Murim Alliance types? So soft. If it were the Heavenly Demon Cult, blades would’ve been drawn by now.’
Instead of causing trouble, they were parading him around and introducing him to every notable guest in attendance. Every person here carried a name that could make waves across the martial world with a single mention.
Before he knew it, Seomun Hwan had been dragged from one VIP to another, forced to stamp his face on the memories of the realm’s elite. They even went so far as to praise him.
“This is Young Master Seomun Hwan. The Seomun Clan is a prestigious family well known throughout Hubei.”
When Dang Mun-yeong introduced him personally, the others seemed to assume Seomun Hwan must be someone extraordinary. They greeted him with proper respect, offering polite fist salutes.
“A pleasure to meet you, Young Master Seomun.”
“The honor is mine.”
As he followed the banquet’s host, Dang Mun-yeong, a sharp female voice cut through the chatter from behind.
“What exactly are you doing here, Brother Mun-yeong?”
All eyes turned toward the speaker. A beautiful young woman stood there, her long hair cascading to her waist and tied neatly with a simple ribbon. She wore a graceful smile.
Yet something about that smile felt off. While her lips curved softly, her eyes held the chill of ice.
The contrast was unnatural, but one overwhelming advantage erased every flaw.
‘She’s disgustingly beautiful.’
Even Seomun Hwan—who had seen countless beauties across two lifetimes—had to admit it. She was breathtaking enough to steal the air from one’s lungs.
Her skin was flawlessly smooth, like the finest white jade meticulously carved by a master craftsman. Beneath elegantly arched brows, her eyes were clear and captivating. Those dark, lustrous pupils seemed to draw in anyone who met her gaze, holding them with impossible depth.
She possessed the kind of beauty one could never forget after a single glance. Her appearance made hearts flutter and nerves tighten without warning.
Compared to her, even Baekri Seonhwa—who relied on cosmetics and careful styling—looked like a firefly beside a full moon.
Dang Mun-yeong spoke in a slightly sour tone.
“...So it’s Mi-ju.”
Dang Mi-ju. Dang Mun-yeong’s younger sister, granddaughter of the Poison Emperor and daughter of the Tang Clan Lord.
‘She’s no ordinary flower.’
Her aura was every bit as lethal as her appearance. Calling her a rose with sharp thorns didn’t feel sufficient. She was more like a poisonous bloom—terrifyingly beautiful, yet carrying a deadly toxin within.
And there were those already captivated by her fragrant venom.
Namgung Baek hurried forward, greeting her eagerly.
“It has been too long, Lady Mi-ju. How have you been?”
“Oh my!”
Dang Mi-ju raised a delicate hand to her lips as if she had only just noticed him.
“It really has been a while, Young Master Namgung. Have you been well?”
When the corners of her eyes curved gently, Namgung Baek’s face flushed crimson. Beside him, Zhongli Yan—the daughter of the Zhongnan Sect Leader—pouted her lips in open displeasure.
Dang Mi-ju pretended not to notice her and turned instead toward Seomun Hwan.
“But... I don’t believe I’ve seen this gentleman before.”
Dang Mun-yeong failed to hide the panic that flashed across his face—like a child caught in the middle of a nasty prank.
Her gaze settled on Seomun Hwan. Though her expression remained soft, a spark of genuine curiosity flickered in her eyes.
“This is our first meeting. I am Dang Mi-ju.”
She stepped forward gracefully and offered a light, perfectly executed bow. Her movements were clean, modest, and dignified.
As she drew closer, a subtle, enchanting fragrance seemed to fill the air around them.
Seomun Hwan responded with calm indifference.
“A pleasure. I am Seomun Hwan.”
His reply was brief, but his gaze never wavered. On the contrary, the way he looked straight into her eyes without flinching left the surrounding guests visibly stunned.
Dang Mi-ju possessed an almost demonic charm. Even if a man met her as an enemy, few could keep their knees from weakening. Yet here was Seomun Hwan, staring at her as if she were nothing more than a plain rock.
Namgung Baek unconsciously clenched his fists.
“So that’s why Brother didn’t introduce me earlier. How interesting, Young Master Seomun.”
The corner of Dang Mi-ju’s mouth lifted slightly. Something sharp glittered in her eyes—not wariness, but curiosity.
“How are you finding our banquet?”
This was no casual question. It came directly from the Tang Clan’s prized daughter, Dang Mi-ju herself. Any other man would have showered her with flowery compliments.
Seomun Hwan simply answered, “It’s been average.”
“...”
For once, even Dang Mi-ju seemed momentarily lost for words. She quickly regained her composure, however, and continued with clear amusement.
“I see. That is unfortunate. But I doubt you’ll find it boring for much longer.”
Her tone suggested she knew something he didn’t.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me—I have many duties to attend to.”
With that, she turned and walked away. Her departure was like a cold snowflake carried on a gentle wind—soft, yet chilling.
Namgung Baek reached out desperately. “Ah, wait, I—”
But she had already moved far beyond his reach. He swallowed repeatedly, his throat painfully dry.
‘Interesting.’
Seomun Hwan let out a small chuckle.
It was because of the whispered message Dang Mi-ju had left him as she passed.
-Looks like my brother’s bad habits are acting up again. Be careful if you don’t want to become his toy.
Since he had already expected as much, the warning didn’t surprise him. What did catch him off guard was that she had bothered to give it at all.
‘She didn’t strike me as the kind type.’
Perhaps because of her intervention, Dang Mun-yeong stopped dragging Seomun Hwan around. He muttered something about having matters to attend to and disappeared with the others.
With the annoying pests finally gone, Seomun Hwan sat alone and watched the banquet unfold.
“What a wasteful display of money.”
In his previous life, the Heavenly Demon Cult would never have indulged in such extravagance, no matter how rich they were. Ruthless practicality had been one of the keys to their strength.
“These orthodox sect types are all lungs stuffed full of vanity. Tsk, tsk!”
The words came out like an old man’s grumbling.
Soon afterward, the Poison Emperor finally made his appearance, and the real banquet began. His past achievements and merits were listed at tedious length.
Next came the martial demonstration.
Tang Clan warriors took the stage one after another, showcasing their signature hidden weapons and poison techniques.
BOOM!
Whenever black smoke bombs erupted, stealth techniques followed instantly. Throwing knives spun four times in midair before striking their targets with perfect precision.
The crowd erupted in continuous gasps and applause with every display.
“As expected of the Tang Clan.”
“Their reputation is well deserved.”
“That speed, that power—it’s pure practical combat.”
Seomun Hwan remained in his quiet corner, nibbling on fruit.
“They’re putting in effort, I’ll give them that...”
He swallowed another piece and added, “But it’s sloppy.”
The moment the demonstration ended and the host prepared to move on to the next event, Dang Mun-yeong strode confidently onto the center of the stage.
He adjusted his long sleeves and offered a respectful fist salute to the audience.
“I am Dang Mun-yeong. First, I would like to express my deepest gratitude to all the honored guests who have come to celebrate my grandfather’s seventieth birthday.”
After bowing to every corner of the room, he continued.
“Before everyone gathered here today, I wish to demonstrate a recent insight I have gained, offered to my grandfather as a token of respect.”
The crowd stirred with excitement.
Martial demonstrations were usually reserved for established experts. For the Tang Clan’s second young master—and the Poison Emperor’s own grandson—to step forward personally set the entire hall ablaze with anticipation.
“However, this technique cannot be properly displayed without a partner. Would any of you be willing to assist me?”
Dang Mun-yeong let his gaze sweep across the audience.
And then—
“I believe Young Master Seomun Hwan of the Seomun Clan would be the perfect candidate.”
Namgung Baek suddenly stepped forward, his voice solemn and measured.
Under the weight of everyone’s attention, he added respectfully, “Young Master Seomun is the one who slew the Mountain Leopard Ghost that attacked the Baekri Clan. Someone of his caliber should have no trouble receiving Brother Dang’s new technique.”
His words were calm and carried such conviction that no one could easily doubt them.
The hall immediately broke into murmurs.
“The Mountain Leopard Ghost? Wasn’t he the Peak realm expert who escaped even the Huashan pursuit?”
“That’s right. The authorities spent years trying to catch him and failed. You’re saying this young master took him down?”
Zhongli Yan, who had been listening nearby, smoothly added her voice.
“I heard the same rumors. They say Young Master Seomun displayed outstanding leadership and helped his clan’s warriors overcome a crisis. It would be wonderful if he could show us a demonstration here.”
One by one, the guests began to nod, turning expectant eyes toward Seomun Hwan. The looks they gave him held genuine anticipation.
Baekri Seonhwa watched him with a soft smile playing on her lips.
‘Look at these bastards.’
Seomun Hwan sneered inwardly. They had planned this from the very beginning.
Yet on the surface, their approach was so polite that he would look petty if he refused. This must have been why they had spent the entire evening dragging him around and lavishing him with praise.
Dang Mun-yeong smiled brightly and extended his hand.
“If Young Master Seomun would join me, today’s banquet would become truly meaningful.”
The entire hall erupted in warm applause, as if everyone sincerely welcomed the idea.
Clap, clap, clap!
The atmosphere made it clear that refusing now would brand him a coward.
Seomun Hwan rose slowly from his seat.
“How convenient. I’ve also gained some insights recently.”
Dang Mun-yeong smiled inwardly with triumph.
Now that Seomun Hwan had taken the bait, he would thoroughly humiliate the fool in front of everyone.
The two men faced each other on the stage.
Seomun Hwan remained perfectly calm. Behind his smile, Dang Mun-yeong hid filthy intentions.
Good. I’ll play with him for a bit, then crush him beautifully.
Dang Mun-yeong offered a light fist salute.
“I look forward to your guidance, Young Master Seomun.”
“I have high expectations as well, Young Master Dang.”
The banquet hall had become an arena.
The moment their eyes met, the fight began.
Swish!
Dang Mun-yeong moved without hesitation from the very first breath. His sword left its sheath, slicing through the air and leaving blue afterimages in its wake.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Brilliant sword light danced across the stage. The swordplay, which incorporated the Tang Clan’s hidden weapon techniques, was far more dazzling than expected. The nimble tip created the illusion of striking from multiple directions at once.
“Magnificent!”
“Truly worthy of the Tang Clan’s second young master!”
With every cheer from the spectators, Dang Mun-yeong’s confidence swelled.
Seomun Hwan moved as if in slow motion—yet always just fast enough, always just barely dodging.
Those seeing it for the first time marveled at the tension. But as time passed, the momentum clearly tilted in one direction.
Dang Mun-yeong was launching a completely one-sided assault.
“It seems Young Master Seomun isn’t particularly skilled with the sword.”
“No, Young Master Dang is simply exceptional.”
The crowd offered their evaluations freely.
Bang!
With a sharp ring, Dang Mun-yeong’s blade grazed the edge of Seomun Hwan’s collar. Though it was only a graze, many spectators saw it as proof of complete dominance.
Dang Mun-yeong thought the same.
Time to finish this.
He poured inner energy into his blade and increased his speed. He was fully prepared to sever a wrist or ankle. Imagining Seomun Hwan’s scream and the spray of blood, a faint smile touched his lips.
But then...
‘Huh?’
The moment he swung, Dang Mun-yeong felt a subtle sense of dissonance. He had aimed for a vital point with perfect accuracy, yet Seomun Hwan had evaded with the smallest possible movement.
He told himself it was luck. But when it happened a second time, then a third, the corners of his eyes began to twitch.
What is this? Why can’t I hit him?
Sweat started forming on Dang Mun-yeong’s forehead. He moved his sword even faster, finally unleashing the secret technique he had recently mastered.
“Blue Snake Ten Thousand Poison Sword!”
Along with poisonous energy erupting from the blade, dozens of blue sword qi streaks surged toward Seomun Hwan from every direction.
The spectators burst into unified admiration.
“Oh! That’s one of the Tang Clan’s supreme techniques!”
But in the very moment everyone was gasping in awe—
Seomun Hwan simply twisted his body lightly, and the attack passed through empty air.
Shrrk.
Not a single scratch. Not even a flutter in his clothing. The poisonous energy dissipated like morning mist.
A perfect evasion.
Dang Mun-yeong’s face twisted in disbelief.
He dodged that? This trash from a ruined clan?
The movements he had shown until now had looked clumsy. He had seemed like someone who hadn’t even properly learned the basics of swordsmanship...
While everyone was still blinking in confusion, Seomun Hwan slowly raised his head.
The corners of his mouth curved upward in a lazy arc.
“Is that all you have, Young Master Dang?”
At those calm words, Dang Mun-yeong’s breath caught in his throat.
“I’m a little... disappointed.”
Seomun Hwan’s smile deepened.