The Trap Within the Trap
Lightning flashed.
A bolt struck a nearby ancient tree, and the thunder that followed seemed to shake heaven and earth itself, slamming into everyone's ears.
Those who had thrown themselves into the mud scrambled back to their feet, shouting something at one another—
Beeeeeep—
But the deafening roar that had battered their eardrums at such close range left only a ringing that shook their heads.
And of course—
"—Danger—!"
"—Lightning—!"
"—We have to get clear—!"
In the midst of it all, not a single person could spare a thought for Jegal Dae-gunsa, left alone inside the armored command carriage.
As the pride of Luoyang Sword House craftsmanship, the armored command carriage completely shielded the hearing of those within from the thunder's impact. The desperate struggle outside that Jegal Dae-gunsa saw through the window became a boundary dividing the worlds within and without, leaving him feeling as though he were merely sitting in the audience, watching actors perform a silent play.
Would they feel the same, looking at me inside the carriage right now?
They would never feel the goosebumps rising all over his body, nor the cold that seemed to freeze him from toes to crown. Not a single one of those things.
"…I see."
His lips moved.
"Eldest Young Master…"
In that brief moment, having ordered his thoughts, Jegal Dae-gunsa looked at the Eldest Young Master seated across from him—Yeon So-hyeon.
"You planned this from the very beginning."
How long he had been outside, no one could say. The Eldest Young Master was already soaked through. Water dripped steadily from his collar and the ends of his hair, yet—
"The tea fragrance is excellent."
He leaned back comfortably as if nothing were amiss, picked up the teacup that had been sitting before Jegal Dae-gunsa, and savored it as though it had been prepared for him all along.
"Did you prepare the water for the tea separately? Impressive, managing all this in such a short time."
The corner of Yeon So-hyeon's mouth curved into a long, mocking smile.
"Doesn't the Military Affairs Bureau work its subordinates a little too hard?"
"You deliberately set out alone, Eldest Young Master."
Jegal Dae-gunsa ignored the Young Master's digression and continued his deduction.
"You used yourself as bait—to cull our forces that would take the bait and move rashly, before the situation even properly unfolded."
"A fine theory. However."
Yeon So-hyeon smiled faintly and set down the empty teacup.
"To be precise… it wasn't mere troops I was after."
The white breath that left his mouth, still holding the tea's warmth, was warm.
"I was after you, Jegal Dae-gunsa."
Yet to Jegal Dae-gunsa, Yeon So-hyeon's breath—close enough to feel upon his face—felt like the icy breath of a reaper from the underworld.
"…It seems…"
Jegal Dae-gunsa desperately suppressed the tremor in his voice.
"…I have had the honor of drawing the Eldest Young Master's attention."
Slowly, as slowly as he could manage, he lifted a fresh cup that had been prepared and tilted the teapot. He tried hard not to meet the other's gaze, but Yeon So-hyeon's stare was so vivid he could feel it all the way to the tips of the fingers pouring the tea—and it was clearly laden with sticky killing intent.
"How did this young and inexperienced strategist come to attract such unnecessary interest from the Eldest Young Master?"
"You lower yourself too much, Jegal Dae-gunsa."
From the beginning until now, Yeon So-hyeon had not taken his eyes off him for even a moment as he continued.
"Are you not one of only two proud Grand Military Advisors of the New Murim Alliance?"
Ordinarily that might have been true. But right now, if he could, Jegal Dae-gunsa would have flung that title far away and discarded it.
"…An empty name. And nothing more than a fox playing master of a mountain without a tiger."
Jegal Dae-gunsa forced down the urge to speak faster and faster, and took a forced sip of tea to slow the conversation's flow. The tea was already cold.
"After the Murim Alliance's fall, there was a severe shortage of qualified people."
One man sought to elevate the other; the other desperately sought to diminish himself.
"This mere pale-faced scholar was selected only by borrowing his family's prestige."
From the outside it might have drawn a snort of laughter—but for the man himself, it was a desperate struggle to buy time, to find a path to survival.
"Is that so…?"
To buy time, Jegal Dae-gunsa deliberately nodded half a beat late, then opened his mouth naturally in agreement.
"It is."
"…Hmm."
Eldest Young Master Yeon So-hyeon tapped the empty teacup in his hand. That soft tapping—to Jegal Dae-gunsa—sounded louder than the torrential rain hammering the carriage, louder even than the intermittent thunderbolts.
"That doesn't match what I know."
"That is—"
"A few years ago."
Before Jegal Dae-gunsa could launch into an explanation, Yeon So-hyeon cut him off.
"At the time, there was no shortage of formidable candidates vying for the vacant Grand Military Advisor seat. Yet from among them, the young genius of the Jegal Clan was chosen."
Yeon So-hyeon raised a hand and pointed at him.
"You."
"That is correct…!"
Jegal Dae-gunsa hurriedly nodded, scrambling to seize the thread of the conversation, and blurted out—
"At the time there was considerable uproar over the controversy that the seat had been claimed through family prestige—"
"However."
Yeon So-hyeon did not permit him to continue.
"Among the uppermost echelons of the time—where the leaders of countless factions had gathered—not a single note of discord was heard."
"That—!"
"Strange, isn't it? Back then the organizations of the Old Murim Alliance had not yet entered the main house under the New Murim Alliance's name."
Yeon So-hyeon continued seamlessly.
"Even after the Murim Alliance that had defined an era collapsed, those who remained clustered together—so fixated on power. And yet not a whisper of doubt about a suspicious appointment…?"
It was impossible.
"Th-that is…!"
Jegal Dae-gunsa could not tell whether what ran down his forehead was cold sweat or rainwater leaking from the ceiling.
"It was all thanks to the exceptional prestige of the Jegal Clan—"
To stop the desperate attempt to keep speaking, a single word from Yeon So-hyeon was enough.
"Grand Madam Ha."
Flash.
Outside, lightning struck, and Jegal Dae-gunsa's face shone deathly white. Was it the lightning—or because every last drop of color had drained from his face?
"The mother of my younger sisters, the twin Third Young Lady Yeon Da-eun and Fourth Young Lady Yeon Da-hye."
"I'm not as easy as your mother, Sister Soyu, you know."
The last words of Grand Madam Ha that young Yeon So-hyeon had heard. That sweltering summer day. Just like now—after a fierce cloudburst, beneath a brilliant rainbow hung in the sky, the pale corpse of Grand Madam Ha, already decaying. That smell. The smile that, as always, had lingered on her lips until the very end—had looked especially strained.
"To go boating for pleasure at a time like this…."
"There was torrential rain upstream, they say. No way that little skiff could have withstood the sudden flood."
"But to enjoy a boat ride alone, without a single escort…?"
"Shh. Quiet."
As always—Yeon So-hyeon remembered everything. Every last detail.
Flash.
Crash of thunder. As the aftershock faded, the heavy sound of rain hammering the carriage roof returned—thud-thud-thud.
"The death of Grand Madam Ha—Mother Ha—that was—"
Into the ear of Jegal Dae-gunsa, whose pupils had dilated to their limit, came Yeon So-hyeon's soft, measured voice.
"That was an assassination staged as an accident."
Yeon So-hyeon's fingers tapped the teacup at a steady pace, yet somehow, to Jegal Dae-gunsa's eyes it seemed to grow faster and faster, and to his ears the sound only grew louder.
"The culprit was never found. Neither was the mastermind who gave the order."
"Th-that was an accident—"
Jegal Dae-gunsa tried to speak, but his voice would not form properly.
"Not long after, the forces of the Old Murim Alliance successfully gathered under the Third Young Master. And as you know, with all that uproar, the matter of Mother Ha faded quietly away."
A crescent curved at the corner of Eldest Young Master Yeon So-hyeon's mouth—but neither Jegal Dae-gunsa nor even the Eldest Young Master himself regarded it as a smile.
"But I remember."
"With Mother Ha's death, the businesses of the Ha Clan—which consequently lost its influence within the main house—took a steep step backward across the entire Central Plains."
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound of the teacup being struck.
"At the time, the Third Young Master's side amicably carved up and devoured that vacant space."
Though not a single drop of rain had touched him, Yeon So-hyeon's gaze swept over Jegal Dae-gunsa's body as it trembled like an aspen leaf.
"Your appointment as Grand Military Advisor came immediately after."
Wherever Yeon So-hyeon's gaze landed, goosebumps rose on Jegal Dae-gunsa's skin.
"Everyone else may have forgotten that matter by now."
"But from that day on, I never once took my eyes off you."
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"I could not forget."
Tap-tap-tap.
"Jegal Dae-gunsa."
When Yeon So-hyeon called his name—more precisely, when he reached "Jegal Dae—", the teacup in Jegal Dae-gunsa's hand flew toward Yeon So-hyeon's face—
"Hup!"
—and when the word "gun" followed, Yeon So-hyeon's hand casually shattered the flying teacup—and when he finished with "sa," from behind the fragments crumbling in midair, Jegal Dae-gunsa's white feather fan revealed itself.
Thwack-thwack-thwack!
The white feather fan Yeon So-hyeon deflected with his sleeve struck like a living snake's head, targeting vital pressure points in rapid succession—the martial arts Jegal Dae-gunsa had hidden from everyone until now far exceeded imagination.
"Oh?"
Even so—as was only natural—it could not compare to the martial prowess of Yeon So-hyeon, who could be called a Grandmaster.
Crunch-crack!
Yeon So-hyeon's pale hand, riding up along the successive deflections of the white feather fan, snapped Jegal Dae-gunsa's wrist, crushed his forearm, twisted his elbow, shattered his upper arm, then tore his shoulder to shreds.
"Guh…!"
But—
I never thought such a shallow trick would work in the first place!
In that brief instant, Jegal Dae-gunsa succeeded in pressing the small foot pedal prepared at his feet.
Click.
The Jegal Clan's specially crafted mechanism—designed to blast the person seated opposite him to death—triggered—
BOOM!
The entire wall of the carriage on the side where the Eldest Young Master had been sitting vanished—but through the smoke and dust, the figure of the Eldest Young Master who had been sitting there was nowhere to be found.
Yet without even looking back, Jegal Dae-gunsa poured every ounce of strength into escaping the carriage and, clutching his shredded shoulder, shouted without a thought for whether it had succeeded—
"It's the Eldest Young Master!"
"The target is here!"
Shing-shing-shing!
As the elite troops Jegal Dae-gunsa had led instinctively drew their swords—
"I knew it."
From the half-destroyed carriage, now catching fire and belching black smoke, a voice drifted out.
"It was you."
For some reason, that voice carried a metallic ring.