By Zephyria 
HF 65
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He should have at least asked where he was going. Ho-yeon felt like slapping himself across the face. A sharp exhale escaped Mu-gyeong’s throat as he used fire energy to instantly evaporate the moisture from his hands. If Ho-yeon thought the situation was absurd, he could only imagine how Mu-gyeong felt.
“Jangun.”
“Yes, Cult Leader.”
Jangun, who had been bowing deeply with his face masked, answered loyally.
“Order the Right Guardian to prepare the initiation ceremony.”
Jangun blinked. An initiation ceremony? Could it be for Wi Ho-yeon? The look of disbelief was thick on his face, but Jangun soon shouted his assent. Before Jangun could rush off to the Right Guardian, Ho-yeon shouted even faster.
“No, it’s not like that!”
Quickly catching on to the words, Ho-yeon shook his head violently.
“I really didn’t mean it like that.”
“But that is a true word that only a believer of this cult can speak?”
Ho-yeon pressed his lips tight as he looked at Mu-gyeong approaching him. Regardless of what Ho-yeon said, Jangun had already headed toward the Guardian Hall where the Right Guardian would be, having received the Cult Leader’s order.
“There’s… no rule saying only believers have to say it.”
Ho-yeon looked back and forth between Abok and Do-gyeon, hoping they would take his side and agree that no such rule existed.
“Young Master Wi, congratulations on your initiation into the Divine Cult!”
At that moment, Do-gyeon spoke up boisterously. He remained in a kneeling position on one knee, only lifting his head. When Mu-gyeong ordered him to stand, Do-gyeon rose and drove the point home once more.
“Cult Leader, this is the first time an ice palace inhabitant has joined since the founding of our Divine Cult. It is truly a cause for celebration.”
Ho-yeon’s head spun as the situation pushed him toward a confirmed initiation. In truth, it was a phrase that could not be shouted unless one was a cult member.
For it meant that defeat never exists within the Divine Cult, and that ten thousand demonic forces look up to it and surrender. Now, Ho-yeon’s only hope was Abok, and he turned his gaze toward the latter, who was slowly picking himself up. However, Abok was barely hiding a joyful curve at the corners of his mouth.
He had forgotten. Abok, too, was a fanatical believer of the demon sect.
“From now on, ensure that Young Master Wi lacks nothing in revering this seat as a god.”
At Mu-gyeong’s brazen words, this time it was Ho-yeon who was utterly speechless. A god? What kind of god in the world rubs his cock against another and tries to do even more than that? Ho-yeon looked at him, his eyes filled with his inner thoughts.
“Your irreverence is already beyond words.”
Mu-gyeong gave a short sneer. In his heart, Ho-yeon wanted to scream, You might be the heavenly demon, but you are not a god to me, but he lacked the courage to commit true blasphemy in the midst of fanatics.
Unaware of Ho-yeon’s burning frustration, Abok was moving snacks from a small tray to the table. The treats consisted of nothing more than the snow pears and preserved apricots that Ho-yeon enjoyed.
Since the Cult Leader had arrived, Abok also brought out Yeo-ah-hong, a well-aged premium liquor. Although Mu-gyeong never paired food with his drinks, Abok often served appetizers like meat pancakes on days like today.
Unlike Mu-gyeong, who sat on a wooden chair, Do-gyeon and Ho-yeon remained standing.
“You’re not serious… right? This is a joke?”
Ho-yeon asked tentatively. Dressed in black, Mu-gyeong simply drank the liquor straight from the bottle.
“Since it is a joyful day, I ask for a glass for this old monster as well.”
When Mu-gyeong gestured with his chin for him to do as he pleased, Do-gyeon promptly sat opposite Mu-gyeong. There were only two chairs, but the quick-witted Abok brought another chair from somewhere to provide a seat for Ho-yeon.
Rather than sitting there, Ho-yeon wanted to hurry to a place where Mu-gyeong’s eyes weren’t watching so he could check the letter from the Ice Palace Lord. Fortunately, judging by Mu-gyeong’s demeanor, he didn’t seem to know that Ho-yeon had hidden the letter in his sleeve.
However, the problem was Do-gyeon. There was no reason for Do-gyeon not to tell Mu-gyeong about the critical matter of delivering the Lord’s letter.
Ho-yeon attempted to sit in the chair, hoping to find a way to break the situation.
“Did I ever order you to sit?”
“….”
Perhaps because he had suppressed his demonic energy, Mu-gyeong’s eyes were black. Ho-yeon was quite shocked by those emotionless eyes. Until now, Cheon Mu-gyeong had never treated him like a cult member. But as he spoke of initiation, Ho-yeon felt as if he were facing the Cult Leader rather than Cheon Mu-gyeong.
“I thought the Cult Leader had cast aside all his mischief after ascending to the throne, but it seems I was mistaken.”
Having no intention of granting Do-gyeon’s request for a drink, Do-gyeon, who held an empty glass, poured the liquor himself from the new bottle Abok had brought.
“Bring the seven-stringed zither.”
Mu-gyeong, completely ignoring Do-gyeon’s words, ordered Abok. Since the zither had been lost during the flight on Tae-pyeong, there were no instruments anywhere in the Shadowless Pavilion. Thus, Abok hurried away to retrieve a seven-stringed zither.
Ho-yeon stood there blankly, fidgeting with his hands. The atmosphere of being on pins and needles was exactly what Ho-yeon had prepared for when he decided to come to the demon sect. Since he was brought as a hostage, he had guessed he wouldn’t be treated well and would have to walk on eggshells.
However, by meeting Cheon Mu-gyeong before entering the demon sect, the opposite situation had unfolded until now. It was only possible because the man was the Cult Leader. He could not deny the fact that he had been protected in some way because the heavenly demon was by his side.
“By the way, why are you looking for the seven-stringed zither?”
Do-gyeon asked, unable to contain his curiosity. Ho-yeon was equally curious.
“If there is something he can do, there is no reason to let it go to waste.”
In other words, he was telling him to play music while they drank. Ho-yeon suffered a second shock.
He had played for money at a courtesan house before, but that had been by his own will. But now, Cheon Mu-gyeong was suppressing him with hierarchy. Furthermore, if he plucked the strings, the letter inside his sleeve might slip out.
No, more than that, Ho-yeon felt a deep sense of betrayal. It had been less than half an hour since he had considered the man a kindred spirit. He realized anew how naive it had been to think Mu-gyeong might treat him as an equal.
Seeing Ho-yeon’s already pale face turn even whiter, Do-gyeon clicked his tongue inwardly.
‘It’s obvious the Cult Leader is just teasing him, but I can’t tell if the boy is just naive or if the Cult Leader is too good an actor.’
“Come to think of it, the Cult Leader once cut off my disciple’s head and threw it at me.”
“Did I?”
Mu-gyeong spoke indifferently, as if he had no such memory.
“At the time, despite being a mere Young Master with no backing, you even gave this old monster advice. You said that if I were to take another disciple, I should keep them on a tighter leash. So, what did I say? Since you killed my disciple, I asked the Cult Leader to fill that vacancy instead.”
Do-gyeon continued after taking a sip of liquor.
“Then you laughed so mischievously, asking if one could possibly have two masters under the same sky. Everyone says the Cult Leader is only immersed in demonic arts, but he was originally a jovial person who laughed often and knew how to enjoy the arts.”
In his own way, Do-gyeon was subtly signaling to Ho-yeon that Mu-gyeong was just teasing him. However, as soon as the mention of a severed head came up, Ho-yeon had instinctively stepped back half a pace.
“Someone who kills disciples is ‘jovial’?”
“The fellow committed numerous murders for fun, so it was a fitting punishment.”
Abok returned, clutching the seven-stringed zither in his arms. It was an instrument familiar to Ho-yeon’s eyes. The dark-colored zither with no particular patterns was the one Ho-yeon had used at the Jade Pavilion. Abok must have picked it up and stored it somewhere.
As Ho-yeon stood there without taking the zither, Abok stood awkwardly, unable to force it upon him. Eventually, feeling sorry for Abok, Ho-yeon accepted the instrument.
“Are you… really making me do this?”
He desperately hoped Mu-gyeong would say it was a joke. It wasn’t that he couldn’t play for Mu-gyeong, but he didn’t want to do it now, being treated as a mere appetizer for their drinks.
“Do-gyeon.”
“Yes, Cult Leader.”
“What happens when one does not follow this seat’s order?”
Though the question was directed at Do-gyeon, his gaze was fixed on Ho-yeon. Do-gyeon chuckled inwardly. Goodness, he can’t even take his eyes off him. It was refreshing to see the Cult Leader acting like an adolescent boy, trying to torment someone. Do-gyeon answered, hoping Ho-yeon would notice the Cult Leader’s true intentions, which were plain to him.
“Their head would fly off without question, but in this old monster’s view, Young Master Wi will likely remain safe.”
“Is that so.”
His tone suggested, Go ahead and try refusing my order. Ho-gyeon clutched the zither and tried to summon some courage.
“I am not a believer. Therefore… I have no reason to obey your orders.”
As their gazes clashed in a tense standoff, Do-gyeon had to suppress a sound of interest. To think that someone with such a gentle appearance had a temper. And that was against Cheon Mu-gyeong, whom everyone feared. Only the innocent Abok trembled at Ho-yeon’s irreverent words.
“And yet you spoke of this cult’s invincibility yourself?”
“People… everyone makes slips of the tongue.”
Because it was such a massive slip, Ho-yeon quickly added another excuse. However, unlike usual, he couldn’t help but let his voice tremble.
“And I don’t play for free.”
He wasn’t an artist overflowing with pride, but today he refused to back down. Most of that was likely to protect the letter in his sleeve.
“Then perhaps I should give you the position of a Hall Master.”
As Mu-gyeong stood up, Ho-yeon, holding the zither, instinctively stepped backward.
As he watched him warily, Mu-gyeong’s hand suddenly reached into Ho-yeon’s sleeve. “Ah!” Ho-yeon let out a short cry. Normally, he might have gone limp at the hot touch, but not now.
To protect the letter, Ho-yeon even dropped the zither to the floor. But it was snatched away effortlessly, and the letter burned in Mu-gyeong’s hand even faster. Ho-yeon realized that when he was too shocked and appalled, he couldn’t actually utter a word.
The name Eumbyeol Hall (Hall of Distinct Sounds) would be fitting.”
Holding the liquor bottle, Cheon Mu-gyeong smiled fiercely, baring his teeth. He had just stolen the name of the sanctuary Ho-yeon had in the Ice Palace.