By Zephyria 
“I’ll be out soon.”
Mu-gyeong didn’t say much, but he stepped into the bath as if telling Ho-yeon to leave when he was ready. The man, as large as a mist-shrouded mountain, sat in the center of the bath, resting his massive forearms on the edge.
“You played the part of a wife so well, and now you’re suddenly acting modest?”
Having missed the chance to snap back, Ho-yeon used Mu-gyeong as an excuse. He felt incredibly awkward that the man had heard his song, so he piled on the excuses.
“The song I sang earlier… it wasn’t really some grand ambition to seize the world or anything, I just made it up because I was in a good mood.”
“You play instruments and compose songs, but it seems you lack talent when it comes to singing.”
How could he put it so meanly?
“Just because someone is skilled with their hands doesn’t mean they’re good at everything in the kitchen,” Ho-yeon replied somewhat bluntly, intending to leave the bath immediately. However, since he had only just entered, he didn’t want to give the impression that he was avoiding Mu-gyeong out of self-consciousness.
Besides, he couldn’t remain awkward with him forever. After all, it was thanks to the fact that Mu-gyeong was a young master of the Demonic Shadow Martial House that he had been able to send a letter.
“Chief Han let me send a letter to the ice palace.”
As Mu-gyeong pushed his wet hair back, Ho-yeon swallowed hard, his throat moist from the steam. Now that his face was fully visible, Ho-yeon realized once again that he was strikingly handsome.
“Thank you. It’s thanks to you.”
Ho-yeon offered his gratitude while submerged up to his chin in the water.
“What did you write?”
Mu-gyeong asked, watching Ho-yeon brush away the moisture clinging to his eyelashes. He was foolish, unaware that his eyes were stinging even more from the damp hands.
“Just… I asked for money.”
Ho-yeon answered honestly.
“Other than that?”
“I didn’t write anything about the demon sect or the ice palace, just in case the letter leaked elsewhere.”
Mu-gyeong slowly tilted his head back, casting his gaze toward the ceiling of the bath.
“I… I told you before that I was thinking of pretending to be dead to escape, or something like that. I’m just going to act like that never happened.”
Ho-yeon’s voice lacked confidence. Mu-gyeong had thought of Ho-yeon as a child who laid everything bare, but upon reflection, even children lied for their own gain.
“Based on what Chief Han said, I think it might be okay even if the Cult Leader emerges from closed-door cultivation…”
With a slight movement, Mu-gyeong turned his head back to look at Ho-yeon. His pitch-black eyes were like those of a beast, devoid of readable emotion. He had used a hot spring with him once before while camping out, but because this was an enclosed space, it felt even more suffocating.
“That’s the only way the ice palace avoids becoming a wasteland.”
“Huh…?”
Ho-yeon asked back, sounding momentarily dazed.
“Even if you flee elsewhere, if it’s the Cult Leader, he’ll start by smashing the ice palace.”
“That’s why I said I won’t pretend to be dead—I mean, I’m not going to do that anymore.”
Ho-yeon hadn’t given up on escaping yet, but he had decided to be careful with his words around Mu-gyeong. And Mu-gyeong seemed to be the type—the kind of person who didn’t mind insulting the Cult Leader himself, but couldn’t tolerate others doing the same.
“I’ll get out first.”
As Ho-yeon stood up, the water cascaded down his naked body, making his hair cling to his skin. It looked as if the Milky Way, wandering through the water, had been etched onto his fair and delicate skin. Perhaps because the warm water felt so good, his already drooping eyes looked even more languid.
It was just as Ho-yeon, conscious of Mu-gyeong’s gaze, tried to move toward the edge. With a short cry of “Ah!”, Ho-yeon tripped over his own feet and splashed right toward Mu-gyeong.
Plunging straight into the water, Ho-yeon struggled, unable to find his balance. He was unaware that Mu-gyeong had shifted the current to grab his legs.
The moment his flailing hand touched Mu-gyeong’s body, his submerged face collided with something hard. He couldn’t open his eyes to check, but based on the position, it was exactly where he imagined. In his panic, Ho-yeon flailed further, and soon his neck was gripped and pulled upward.
“Puh…!”
Ho-yeon’s neck was barely a handful in Mu-gyeong’s large hand. If he was going to help, he could have just lifted him up gently. Ho-yeon let out a small cough, kneeling before Mu-gyeong. Since his neck was still being held, a ticklish vibration resonated through Mu-gyeong’s hand.
Ho-yeon hurriedly pulled his two hands away from Mu-gyeong’s stone-like thighs. But then, instead of his face, his hand brushed against Mu-gyeong’s member.
S-sorry.
“Why… why is it hard?”
Not only had he fallen onto him like a fool, but the words from his inner thoughts had slipped out instead. Mu-gyeong, still holding the nape of his neck, looked down at the crown of Ho-yeon’s head as he leaned forward.
“I wonder.”
His voice was so low it made Ho-yeon’s ears itch. As Mu-gyeong pressed his face against Ho-yeon’s head and inhaled deeply, Ho-yeon trembled slightly. It felt as if, if he were pressed down any further, his face would end up right against that member. It wasn’t the first time he had seen Mu-gyeong’s aroused state, but this position was something he could never get used to.
Ho-yeon managed to pry the hand gripping his neck away. When Mu-gyeong suddenly raised his hand, Ho-yeon flinched. However, he was simply shielding the top of Ho-yeon’s head. Tuk, a droplet of water from the ceiling fell onto the back of his hand.
Under the eaves created by Mu-gyeong, a flustered Ho-yeon looked up at him. Meeting his eyes, Ho-yeon gasped. It was because of the red glow lingering in Mu-gyeong’s eyes. Unlike the black eyes that hid his emotions, these seemed to contain a deep fire. Wondering if he had seen wrong, he blinked, and in that instant, the crimson light vanished without a trace.
“I-I’ll get out first.”
Ho-yeon put all his strength into his legs and headed out of the bath. Just in case, he glanced down at himself, and his member, which usually behaved, was slightly lifting its head. Ho-yeon wondered, Why am I like this too?
Completely frazzled, Ho-yeon wrapped himself roughly in a cloth and hurried out of the bath. Just as he had at the thatched cottage, Ho-yeon had a knack for escaping. Mu-gyeong stared blankly at his now-empty hand.
He brought his palm to his lips and took a deep breath. However, there was no energy left to soothe his own breath.
Even for a child.
Whether he was truly innocent or just pretending, Mu-gyeong let out a hollow laugh. He thought he knew everything, yet there was something he knew nothing about. That was why he was a variable.
The news of Eum Yohwa’s death spread rapidly throughout the demon sect headquarters.
She had disappeared while overturning the cult in search of her son, Young Master Yeom, and her disciples had vanished with her. While disappearances were frequent, it was the first time a master of Eum Yohwa’s caliber had gone missing.
The cult, realizing the situation was unusual, set out to find her and discovered the bodies of her and her disciples in Bangobong Forest, away from the main sect.
“It is presumed to be the work of the blood cult.”
Ji Hyeok-gyeong, the left guardian, announced this to the elders at the Hall of Elders. Since the Cult Leader had ordered silence among the general members, other practitioners believed the baseless rumor that Eum Yohwa had died after getting into a dispute with a hermit demonic practitioner while searching for Young Master Yeom.
Eum Yohwa had always been one to call for blood. Since she had committed a cruel massacre at the Jade Pavilion toward the end, few mourned her death. On the contrary, the merchants were secretly glad she was gone, as the dog’s death of the Jade Pavilion’s master had been a great shock to them as well.
And especially those of lower rank than her were the most pleased by her death. Do-gyeon suddenly became fourteenth in rank, and a vacancy opened up behind him.
“Demonic practitioners have begun a struggle for the fifteenth rank.”
Ho-yeon, who was embroidering a dragon, widened his eyes at Han Hee-ryeong’s words. He was currently embroidering in an inner room with the doors wide open to the courtyard.
“On the Cult Leader’s birthday?”
“So they say.”
No matter how surprised he was, he had work to do, so Ho-yeon resumed his busy hand movements. Since the Cult Leader’s birthday was the day after tomorrow, he absolutely had to deliver it to the Neungra-bang by today. While his hands moved, he focused on Han Hee-ryeong’s story.
Those called the 15 Great Masters of the cult often changed ranks without formal duels. It was a system where an individual would challenge another to a martial arts duel, and the victor would take the loser’s place. Unlike the ice palace or the orthodox sects, the demon sect’s duels were life-and-death duels, so the loser usually lost their life.
However, one could not simply request a duel with the eighth-ranked master just because they wanted to be eighth. The rule was that one had to climb up in order starting from the fifteenth.
Indeed, if that weren’t the case, the first-ranked master would be bombarded with duel requests incessantly. Ho-yeon understood that the rule had its reasons. In a way, the fifteenth rank served as the gatekeeper for the 15 Great Masters.
“Then the fifteenth-ranked master must have received a huge number of duel requests.”
“Not necessarily. Do-gyeon was the fifteenth. Though he is now fourteenth.”