By Zephyria 
HF 46
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Ho-yeon reflexively covered his neck. Had Mu-gyeong intended to do it, he would have left this world without even knowing his head had been severed, but it was a self-protective instinct.
Mu-gyeong approached slowly, casting a dark shadow. It served to block the sunlight that pricked the skin, but Ho-yeon looked up at him with wariness.
“If you cut off my head just for telling the truth… there won’t be any disciples left in the demon sect.”
Ho-yeon could tell his voice was trembling considerably. He had been trying to act bold toward Cheon Mu-gyeong, but after a day or two, reality had set in.
This man was not the peculiar Young Master of the Demonic Shadow Martial House, but the master of the hundred thousand great mountains and the leader of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, who had reached a supreme realm.
Recalling the martial prowess he had displayed in the Hall of Ten Thousand Demons, Ho-yeon honestly lacked confidence. Even if he borrowed the power of the ice dragon, his body would faint shortly after, whereas Cheon Mu-gyeong possessed formidable martial prowess in his own right.
He had thought deeply about why the man had pretended to be the Young Master of the Demonic Shadow Martial House; it seemed he suspected Ho-yeon of having the extreme yin constitution and wanted to keep a sly eye on him.
Looking down indifferently at the wary Ho-yeon, Mu-gyeong eventually sat on the wooden platform. Ho-yeon let out a sigh of relief inwardly. Even if he acted bold, he hadn’t completely lost his mind.
As the sunlight hit his face again, Ho-yeon desperately wanted his oil-paper umbrella. His only possession, the umbrella, should still be in the Demonic Shadow Martial House’s annex. He also had to return the seven-stringed zither he borrowed from the Jade Pavilion…
More than that, sending a proper letter to the ice palace was the most urgent priority. However, since that heavenly demon bastard had claimed he was dead, he felt hopeless.
Ho-yeon rose from the ground and stood before Mu-gyeong. Dressed in black light armor, Mu-gyeong simply tilted his wine cup, treating him as if he weren’t even there. However, because Ho-yeon’s heart fire had deepened, he unconsciously released frost energy, soothing Mu-gyeong’s boiling qi and blood just by being beside him.
“It’s the first time I’ve become a spectacle.”
As Ho-yeon continued to stare for a long while, Mu-gyeong spoke nonchalantly. Since everyone prostrated themselves before the cult leader, Ho-yeon wondered if he should do the same, but the cult leader Cheon Mu-gyeong and the benefactor Mu-gyeong were still clashing within him.
How could he deceive him so perfectly? He felt as though the joy he had felt over their “incredible fate” had been completely negated. Resentment reared its head inside Ho-yeon, but he struggled to suppress it, knowing it would only torment himself.
“Could you… send another letter to the ice palace for me?”
Unlike his tightly clenched fists, Ho-yeon’s voice trembled like the flute of an unskilled musician. Was he scared now? It was a strange sight where fear and courage coexisted.
“What kind of deal are you proposing this time?”
“You never accepted the last one either.”
He had asked to be taught martial arts as a fair price if Mu-gyeong wanted to take yin energy from him, but instead of considering it, Mu-gyeong had treated him like a fallen leaf rolling on the ground.
“In the first place, there is no need for a deal. I can simply extort it.”
“Honestly… it’s not enough, is it?”
Ho-yeon tested Mu-gyeong. Even now, he could feel an immense heat emanating from the man’s right arm. Before, he had simply thought his body temperature was higher than others, but for some reason, he could now clearly perceive an energy as if lava were pressed into the right arm. Even though he had absorbed the energy the other day, it seemed soothing the heat was only a temporary fix.
“I suspect it would be sufficient if I simply devoured your dantian.”
No distinct emotion surfaced in the black eyes Mu-gyeong used to look at Ho-yeon. Feeling the fear creeping up from his feet, Ho-yeon swallowed hard.
“…Sir.”
Ho-yeon’s voice was now like a dying flute.
“…Master.”
Whether he was ashamed of begging for his life or his cheeks had simply flushed from the sun, his face was reddish.
“I don’t recall ever having a disciple like Wi Ho-yeon.”
“If you call me that…! You said you’d be my master.”
“I never promised such a thing.”
Ho-yeon’s face flushed even more. Indeed, he had only said that if they were in a master-disciple relationship, he should naturally call him master; there had been no promise to actually take him as a disciple. Mu-gyeong rose from his seat as if he were about to rip out and swallow his dantian right then and there.
“If—if you keep me alive, it’ll be beneficial in many ways.”
As he spoke, he glanced toward where Jangun had been, and fortunately, he was nowhere to be seen. Begging for his life was miserable enough, but it would have been even more humiliating if someone were watching.
Since there was no answer from Mu-gyeong, Ho-yeon instinctively felt that he had failed to spark any interest. It had been a great delusion to think that Mu-gyeong was an arrogant yet blunt and kind man.
Standing at the peak of ten thousand demons, he was simply cold toward everything. He had only become interested because Ho-yeon, who didn’t even have the extreme yin constitution, could soothe his heat.
Ho-yeon focused his gaze on Mu-gyeong’s hand. Imagining that hand reaching out to pierce his stomach, he quickly spoke. He was so desperate that the hair tied up on his head swayed.
“I…! I’m good at embroidery, and as you’ve heard, I’m quite decent at playing the seven-stringed zither.”
“Ah, the dragon spring silk embroidery.”
Mu-gyeong spoke bluntly while lifting the wine bottle. It was a technique he had made up to bluff the owner of the silk shop to sell the clothes at a high price. But since things had come to this, Ho-yeon chose to be brazen.
“That’s right. If I can get ice silk thread, I can add my energy to embroider it with an even colder nature.”
Ho-yeon knew he was spouting nonsense. Mu-gyeong looked down at him and tilted the wine bottle, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Ho-yeon’s Adam’s apple moved in sync as he gulped in tension.
“It might be better to skin Wi Ho-yeon and wear him instead.”
Ho-yeon flinched and stepped back. As Mu-gyeong approached, he felt as if he were being crushed by a massive mountain. Suddenly, he remembered what the children of Eumbyeol Hall had said.
That the leader of the demon sect skins people to make clothes and fills his bath with blood to replenish his demonic energy. It was truly an absurd tall tale that only children would tell.
But then again, why couldn’t he? In this place, the heavenly demon was a god-like existence. If he desired it, there was nothing he could not achieve.
“Your body is so huge, if you skinned someone like me, it would be nothing more than a rag!”
Ho-yeon poured out the words without taking a breath.
“Your frame is so much larger than mine that it wouldn’t even fit…!”
Then, Ho-yeon suddenly doubted his own ears. He couldn’t believe the sound of laughter coming from Mu-gyeong. It was just a passing sound, but it was a low and refreshing resonance. Ho-yeon’s blue-gray eyes widened.
Had it not been for the sound of something falling on the ground, Ho-yeon would have remained entranced by Mu-gyeong for a long time.
Turning quickly, he saw Jangun, who was bringing out a small tray from inside, had dropped a dish. In truth, Jangun had been so shocked he could have dropped the entire tray, but thanks to his quick recovery of balance, he only dropped one.
“Please kill me!”
Having set down the tray, Jangun drew the sword from his hip, knelt, and offered it up to Mu-gyeong. Though Jangun, known as the shadow of the cult leader, rarely wavered, he had now acted rashly twice. And Wi Ho-yeon was present for both instances.
Jangun had served by Mu-gyeong’s side without leaving for a single moment since he ascended as the cult leader, yet he had never once heard him laugh aloud. Thus, Jangun truly felt it would be fine if he died.
Taking the sword from Jangun, Mu-gyeong flicked the blade toward the ground. Before Ho-yeon could even admire the smooth movement, which looked like a single line, the sword seemed to point toward Jangun. Ho-yeon hurriedly lunged forward and hugged him around the waist.
Whether it was the man offering his life over a minor mistake, or the one intending to kill without mercy, it was a situation Ho-yeon found difficult to accept.
“I wonder who is saving whom.”
Mu-gyeong continued speaking as he felt the cool energy of Ho-yeon, who was clinging tightly to his waist from behind.
“This is the sword that will carve out your flesh.”
Ho-yeon pulled away even more swiftly than he had hugged him. His eyes darted around looking for a corner to escape to, looking like a white deer.
What was the white deer he had encountered in the main sect a long time ago like? Had he killed it, or let it go? He couldn’t remember well. However, he felt no desire to let the one before him go.
“O-once a day!”
Realizing that not only his skin but also his neck could be severed by the sword, Ho-yeon shouted quickly.
“I’ll give you my energy.”
That meant he would faithfully faint once a day.
“Wi Ho-yeon is performing an act of charity for this seat.”
Charity… if anything, he was sacrificing himself in exchange for his life.
“My life is in your hands, so how is this charity? Just… if I do that, promise you won’t harm me.”
Perhaps it was because he had stayed shut in Eumbyeol Hall with the children since leaving the ice dragon’s dwelling, making him far too ignorant of the ways of the world. Ho-yeon was the one who first proposed the deal, yet he was gaining nothing. Ho-yeon realized that deals, too, were conducted according to the law of the jungle.
“I will change the condition. Whenever I desire it.”
Mu-gyeong pointed the sword at Ho-yeon.