The Uninvited Guests

“You look satisfied to me,” Seol Ah-heon replied, looking up at the face as bright as the moon. Perhaps because it was his original face, the feeling of refreshment was much more apparent.

“Does it look that way?”

“Very much so.”

“I’m not quite satisfied with just this, though.”

“……What on earth is the grudge you hold against the Qingcheng Sect?”

Normally, he wouldn’t have dared to ask Baek Geon-ha such a thing. But right now, Baek Geon-ha seemed to be in a very good mood, and since it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say it was thanks to him, he felt it might be okay.

“What did the Qingcheng Sect do wrong to you, Young Master?”

“Are you curious about that?”

“Yes.”

“Even though knowing certain secrets can get you killed?”

“……I’m not curious.”

Seol Ah-heon quickly changed his tune. He was incredibly curious about what the Qingcheng Sect had done to Baek Geon-ha (though it felt more likely that Baek Geon-ha had done something to them), but it was definitely not worth risking his life over.

“Is it because you’re a mouse? Your heart is small.”

His voice still carried a hint of laughter. He must be in an exceptionally good mood. In that case, maybe one more question would be alright.

“Young Master, what did you plan to do if I had lost?”

“I would have had to cut off your arms. Why carry around limbs that can’t even defeat a single fledgling of the Qingcheng Sect?”

“……No, not that. Didn’t you promise to kneel and apologize if your servant lost?”

It was a promise he couldn’t have made unless he was certain of victory. ‘Did he trust me?’ It was a bewildering yet pleasant conclusion. However, Baek Geon-ha lightly shattered Seol Ah-heon’s delusion.

“Since when are you my servant?”

“……Pardon?”

“Even if you lost, it wasn’t my servant losing, so I wouldn’t have had to apologize.”

“…….”

It seemed he never had the slightest intention of apologizing, even if Seol Ah-heon had lost. The words ‘What kind of person is this?’ naturally surged up inside him. He just felt pity for the Qingcheng Sect for incurring Baek Geon-ha’s wrath.

“I find myself wanting a drink.”

Baek Geon-ha turned around. Seol Ah-heon didn’t know why he was suddenly calling for alcohol, but he silently followed him back to the inn.

*************************************

It was too late that night to order alcohol. The next morning, after waking up from a sober sleep, Seol Ah-heon heard the news that the Qingcheng Sect had left the inn.

“Those haughty Taoists of Qingcheng fled the inn as if their tails were on fire. Ha, I thought they had a fire lit under them.”

Baek Geon-ha swirled his teacup. Judging by that action alone, one might believe the liquid inside was wine rather than tea.

“They left the inn in secret; how did you see them?”

“With them leaking their presence like that, how could I not? I only had to look down from the window. And that horse you claimed was kicked seemed perfectly fine.”

“That’s…… a relief, then.”

“Hmph. It surely took after its owner and put on a show. It is a Qingcheng horse, after all; what else could one expect?”

There was no way a horse was faking it. There was much he wanted to say, but Seol Ah-heon kept his mouth shut.

“From what I saw yesterday, the Qingcheng sword has rusted quite a bit. I wonder how they even manage to occupy the last seat of the Nine Great Sects.”

Seol Ah-heon found himself checking the surroundings due to the blunt remarks. Fortunately, no one seemed to be paying attention. Everyone was busy eating and talking.

But one never knew. Someone might be sharpening their ears. Since Sichuan was the stronghold of the Qingcheng Sect, it was beneficial to refrain from criticizing them. However…

‘How am I supposed to stop Baek Geon-ha?’

It was better for his mental health to think that if a problem arose, Baek Geon-ha would handle it. Seol Ah-heon focused on eating his noodles. He had to fill his stomach since he would have to climb Mount Emei again today.

‘Three dumplings left. Can I eat one……?’

Seol Ah-heon stealthily moved his chopsticks. The other two didn’t seem to mind. Baek Geon-ha was still swirling his tea, savoring either the brew or the lingering feeling of Qingcheng’s humiliation, and Mu Il-young was sitting primly.

They might look lost in thought, but that likely wasn’t the case. They were probably exchanging transmissions—planning some grand, wicked scheme that he couldn’t even fathom.

‘It’s better not to know those things.’

He succeeded in snagging a dumpling. Seol Ah-heon split it in half with delight. Steam rose from the filling packed with minced meat and vegetables. He ate it with gusto, and with the noodle broth on the side, it couldn’t have been more satisfying.

Just then, Baek Geon-ha tilted his cup and finished the rest of his tea.

“Good. Three more days of hard work should do it.”

“It will take at least five days.”

“Finish it in three if possible. You can do it, can’t you?”

Baek Geon-ha flipped a silver coin. It was the same hand that had been holding the teacup a moment ago. He moved so fast that Seol Ah-heon’s eyes couldn’t keep up.

“I will do my best,” Mu Il-young replied, catching the coin.

“Doing your best isn’t enough. You know it’s harmful to leave the seat vacant for too long.”

“Everything will eventually be accomplished according to your will, Young Master.”

“That goes without saying.”

Baek Geon-ha stood up. Even though he was using Bone-Squeezing Art, he was tall, so Seol Ah-heon naturally ended up looking up at him.

“We’re leaving.”

“Yes.”

Mu Il-young stood up as well. Following them out, Seol Ah-heon looked back at the table. Two dumplings sat there, lonely.

‘My dumplings…….’

If he had known they’d be left behind, he would have eaten one more. Seol Ah-heon left the inn with regret.

***************************************

Today’s search was more serious than yesterday’s. Mu Il-young traveled across Mount Emei holding a palm-sized mechanical device. It was a compass, but it didn’t seem to point only to the cardinal directions like a normal one.

‘It looks like he’s looking at feng shui.’

Then again, Mu Il-young’s title wasn’t “Illusory Array Demonic Mara” for nothing. He was deeply versed in formations and would later be appointed as the Hall Master of Arrays in the Demonic Cult.

‘In the original work, Mu Il-young deployed incredible arrays. The enemies trapped in them suffered from horrific hallucinations and committed mass suicide…….’

It might be better to use such great talent for finding the Mad-Blood Demonic Sword instead. However, today was also a failure. Mount Emei was a massive mountain, soaring above the clouds. No matter how great the abilities of Baek Geon-ha and Mu Il-young were, it was impossible to search every corner of it in a day or two.

Eventually, the group descended the mountain empty-handed. While returning to the inn, Baek Geon-ha half-jokingly chided Mu Il-young.

“Was the silver coin not enough?”

“Didn’t I tell you it would take at least five days? Regardless, I will gratefully accept more if you give it.”

“That won’t happen for now. We haven’t found ‘it’ yet.”

Perhaps conscious of passersby, he didn’t refer to it as the “Mad-Blood Demonic Sword.” Even with the subject omitted, the conversation flowed smoothly.

“Still, now that I’ve confirmed the earth’s veins, I think I know the direction.”

“Can you find it tomorrow?”

“Probably with a five percent chance.”

“Five percent. Not bad.”

Listening silently, Seol Ah-heon swallowed a groan. It was good that they didn’t have to wander aimlessly anymore, but he felt uneasy about the Mad-Blood Demonic Sword falling into Baek Geon-ha’s hands. His worrying wouldn’t change the outcome, but he was still troubled.

“Mouse.”

“…….”

“Hey, mouse.”

Ping! Something flew and hit his forehead. Snapping back to reality, Seol Ah-heon looked around.

“Y-Young Master?”

“You should answer when called.”

Baek Geon-ha flicked his long finger. He must have shot a bit of internal energy by flicking it. Rubbing his stinging forehead, Seol Ah-heon said:

“I’m sorry, I was lost in thought for a moment……. Did you call for me?”

[Do you really know nothing more about the Mad-Blood Demonic Sword?]

The transmission directly into his head was creepier than a spoken voice. Seol Ah-heon shuddered slightly and replied.

“Yes. What I told you before is everything.”

[Despite knowing so little, where did you hear the information that Tak Bo-myeong obtained the Mad-Blood Demonic Sword?]

“……I don’t remember well.”

It was agonizing to make excuses, knowing they wouldn’t work. It was sunset, and the red glow of the dusk draped over Baek Geon-ha’s face. Even with the disguise, he was as terrifying as his original face—likely because Seol Ah-heon knew all too well that the inside hadn’t changed.

[Shouldn’t you be putting more effort into your excuses by now?]

“I apologize, but I have nothing else to tell you…….”

Just then, a thunderous shout interrupted.

“There you are!”

Seol Ah-heon whipped his head around. A group was standing at the end of the road. About thirty people? They were all wearing deep blue martial robes, which looked familiar.

“Q-Qingcheng Sect?”

“That’s right. It’s the Qingcheng you so boldly insulted!”

Had they come to get their revenge? He was flustered, but he was also relieved to escape Baek Geon-ha’s interrogation. Seol Ah-heon replied calmly.

“If I’ve done something wrong, I will apologize. But last night, we merely clashed swords under mutual agreement.”

Protesting against the winner after losing a duel is an act that diminishes one’s own honor. Although Baek Geon-ha’s mocking of the Qingcheng Sect weighed on his mind, it wasn’t his fault. Seol Ah-heon had nothing on his conscience.

“Ha, you speak well for someone so shameless! Ice Block!”

Seol Ah-heon flinched at the mention of his title.

‘Oh, right. I was a member of the Unorthodox Faction, wasn’t I?’