The Coiled Trap and the Crimson Dawn

“Grand-Disciple Ancestor, please take Sorin and flee. When Master sees that her quarters are empty, he will have no choice but to stand down and return.”

Great Master Wonhyun looked utterly dumbfounded. “And why on earth should I do that?!” he roared in sheer fury.

“Can you not do it for Sorin’s sake, Grand-Disciple Ancestor?” Gwangyeon countered, his resolve unyielding.

“I will go,” I interjected. Understanding both of their positions and fearing we might lose the window to convince Great Master Wonhyun altogether, I spoke up. At my words, both of them snapped their heads toward me simultaneously.

The moment the words left my lips, I bolted. Within heartbeats, Gwangyeon appeared right by my side.

“Gwangyeon! If even you flee, what will become of this situation?” Great Master Wonhyun demanded, matching our pace as he ran alongside us.

Gwangyeon shook his head. “Master does not know I am here.”

“There is no need to rush like this. The Abbot is well aware that Sorin is here. He will act as her shield, even if I fail to hold Hwangeon back on my own.”

Great Master Wonhyun possessed more than enough strength to stop Hwangeon single-handedly. He simply refrained from unleashing that power because doing so would inflict a deep, unhealing wound upon Shaolin itself.

By now, I too was aware of that truth.

“You do not need to run, Gwangyeon,” Great Master Wonhyun said, attempting to slow the boy down. Yet, Gwangyeon did not break his stride, and the grim shadow over his face never lifted.

Instead, he spoke with chilling certainty. “Master is already aware of that fact as well.”

“What do you mean by that? Are you saying he still intends to target Sorin, knowing full well the Abbot is aware?!” Great Master Wonhyun was visibly shaken, his voice trembling with profound shock and mounting indignation at the unexpected revelation. Even so, we did not stop running. Though we hadn’t fully deployed our movement techniques yet, we were steadily pulling away from the quarters.

“Master sensed something was amiss and deliberately herded him into a corner. It seemed the Abbot only realized the gravity of the situation too late. The Abbot walked right into the trap Master had laid.”

Great Master Wonhyun skidded to a dead halt. Consequently, Gwangyeon stopped, and so did I.

“If that is the case… the Abbot himself might be placed in jeopardy.”

“Precisely, Grand-Disciple Ancestor. That is why I believed it best for you to take Sorin and empty the quarters for the time being.” Gwangyeon then added, “However, it might actually be better if I am the one to disappear. Master harbors great expectations for me. If I vanish, he will have no choice but to consume his resources looking for me. He may not cherish me as a disciple, but without me, his path to becoming the next Abbot will be severely compromised. He will have to find me.”

It was astounding that Gwangyeon was capable of such calculating thoughts at his age. It was equally heartbreaking to watch him speak so dispassionately about the reality that his master did not love him, but merely kept him close for political leverage.

Gwangyeon spoke with absolute finality, his mind clearly made up.

“Return now, Grand-Disciple Ancestor. Act as though Sorin was never at the quarters from the very beginning, and aid the Abbot instead of letting yourself be dragged along by my master’s whims. If this matter comes to light, it could deal a fatal blow to the Abbot’s authority. If that happens, my master will ascend to the position of Abbot, and then…”

Gwangyeon trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

“But has the Abbot not already spoken of Sorin’s involvement?”

“It is not quite that. Rather, he simply failed to refute my master’s assertions. The entire narrative was spun by my master, and the Abbot was merely caught in a position where he could not deny it.”

Great Master Wonhyun seemed to grasp the vague outline of how the plot had unfolded. If so, it meant there was still a sliver of hope.

“I understand. I leave her in your hands. Please, keep Sorin safe and bring her back to me when the time is right. The moment Hwangeon retreats, I will leave Shaolin with Sorin. I have been far too complacent for too long.”

To leave with me. The weight of those words resonated deeply within my chest. Yet, there was no time to voice my thoughts to him.

Great Master Wonhyun turned back hastily toward the quarters, leaving only Gwangyeon and me behind.

“Sorin, get on my back. I can utilize my movement techniques, so it will be faster.”

“But—”

“We have no time to dither. You do not know my master. If he believes you are clouding the judgment of the Grand-Disciple Ancestor and the Abbot, he is a man who wouldn’t hesitate to take your life.”

How could I not know Hwangeon? Few could ever survive twenty strokes of the penal paddle. Because one was forbidden from utilizing internal energy while undergoing the punishment, it was an agonizing ordeal even for seasoned martial artists.

In my past life, even Gwangyeon—who had already achieved a respectable level of martial prowess when our fates intertwined—had lost consciousness before the full sentence could be carried out. What made Hwangeon truly terrifying was his ability to orchestrate such atrocities without ever dirtying his own hands.

I would meet my end by his command, yet Hwangeon would not feel a single shred of remorse for my death.

I climbed onto Gwangyeon’s back. Immediately, the wind began to howl past my ears, and the surrounding scenery blurred into a rapid backward rush.

A crisp, clean scent wafted from Gwangyeon—a scent akin to the first breath of a breaking dawn.

There were so many things I had wished to experience with him, starting just like this.

What will become of me now? What will happen to Great Master Wonhyun and the Abbot?

I prayed that those two would not fall into peril because of me, yet I could find no certainty to assure myself.

I knew people like them all too well.

They were the type who could utterly crush their political adversaries in a single stroke if they chose to unleash their true power, yet they would willingly choose self-exile out of their profound devotion to the sect.

Both Great Master Wonhyun and the Abbot were precisely that kind of men. Despots like Hwangeon, terrified of any faction rallying around such figures, would never cease to squeeze them into submission.

Please, let the two of them be safe. Let them come to no harm.

Gwangyeon maintained his breakneck pace without pause for about fifteen minutes before finally coming to a halt. I slid down from his back. Despite running that far, we still hadn’t managed to escape Mount Song.

I realized anew just what a colossal fortress Mount Song truly was. What was more terrifying, however, was that even after sprinting this distance, we had failed to shake off our pursuers.

My eyes met Gwangyeon’s. I had always suspected he possessed formidable internal cultivation, but right now, he looked as though he had been pushed to his absolute limits. The sheer pressure and anxiety of being hunted seemed to have disrupted the smooth circulation of his internal energy.

He blindly grabbed my hand and tried to sprint again. But the hunters trailing us were undoubtedly the elite of the elite, handpicked by Hwangeon. If we kept this up, both of us were bound to be captured.

No matter how much Hwangeon supposedly favored him, that man would hesitate at nothing to break and tame Gwangyeon. If Gwangyeon were caught in my company, his own safety could no longer be guaranteed.

I could vividly picture it: Hwangeon would have him beaten to the brink of death, only to casually appear afterward, infusing him with internal energy to nurse him back to health. Even if Gwangyeon survived, that sense of utter helplessness and bone-deep terror would be permanently etched into his marrow, brutally violating his soul.

With that harrowing thought in mind, I was just about to speak to Gwangyeon when the very thing I dreaded most began to manifest.

A symptom. A cruel omen.

‘No… not now!’

To turn into a snake? Right now?

The sudden realization sent my mind into a frantic spin.

I absolutely could not let him witness that transformation. While it was imperative that our pursuers didn’t catch me turning into a serpent, I was even more desperate to hide it from Gwangyeon.

Yet, trying to tell him to leave me behind would be an exercise in futility; it was blindingly obvious that this stubborn boy would never abandon me.

“Brother, if we keep running in the same direction, we will both be caught. Right now, it is better if you are the one they find. In your current position, you have done nothing wrong. Just tell them you came out here to practice your movement techniques, lost your bearings, and wandered off. You need to hold them off for as long as possible. Feign an injury and cling to them.”

With that, I dashed ahead of him. Gwangyeon did not pursue me any further. He likely reasoned that buying me time in this manner was the wiser choice.

I estimated I had less than seven minutes left. I hastily dug a hole beneath a tree, stripped off my clothes, and buried them. If luck wasn’t on my side, they might be discovered, but right now, I had no alternative. Once the transformation took over, I wouldn’t even have the means to hide my garments.

Just then, the distant clamor of voices reached my ears, followed closely by Gwangyeon’s raised voice.

“Master! Thank heavens I have found you, Master! I had lost my way and was deeply worried about how to find my way back. Thank you for coming to search for me.”

His voice rang out with crystal clarity. He was undoubtedly shouting at the top of his lungs on purpose, ensuring that I could hear him.

‘Hwangeon is here. He finally caught up to us!’

With that frantic realization, I ran with all my might. Yet, I had barely covered any ground when a man dropped out of the sky, landing squarely in front of me. Clad in monastic robes, he landed with his back to me before slowly turning around.

The sheer, overwhelming terror made me feel as though my entire being was dissolving into nothingness.

A scalp branded with the sacred ordination scars. And beneath them, gleaming with an unfathomable depth, were his eyes.

‘A foreigner?’

His eyes shone with a mysterious, striking green hue. I had never heard a single whisper in my past life that Hwangeon was a man of foreign blood. The shock of it struck me like a physical blow.