By Zephyria 
Slowly regaining consciousness, Seong Mu-yeon was startled to realize he was in a wide cavern surrounded by rocky walls.
He couldn’t understand what had happened. His last memory was picking up the Nansaeng Sword to follow Baek Ryeo-il, but in the blink of an eye, the location had changed.
A massive stone pillar supported the ceiling in the middle of the cavern, and Seong Mu-yeon found himself tied to a stake near it, his arms bound behind his back.
There was no one around. He could feel the cold chill and humidity emanating from the rocky walls against his skin.
Peng Do-hwan was tied to another pillar.
“Young Master! Young Master Peng! Please, wake up!”
“Ugh…”
Peng Do-hwan, with his head slumped, only twitched slightly, unable to open his eyes. Perhaps due to the severe aftereffects of consuming his Innate True Qi, he was drenched in cold sweat, his brow furrowed in pain.
‘Am I inside Kilyeon Cliff?’
Seong Mu-yeon first calmly surveyed his surroundings. Moving rashly without grasping the current situation could invite disaster.
It was true that while fighting frantically, they had reached the vicinity of the Poison Freak’s base, as Il-gwang had mentioned.
He felt he had sensed a rustling sound the moment he picked up the Nansaeng Sword, but he remembered nothing after that. Could this happen unless he had been hit by a drug or poison?
The cavern consisted of cold, rugged rocky walls, but it was filled with various ornaments as if to hide its desolate appearance. However, the ornate folding screens, scrolls, wide Taesa tables, and vases filling the cave only created a bizarre sight, like pearls around a pig’s neck.
Whoever the owner of this space was, they seemed to possess a low-class aesthetic, believing that simply placing expensive items in a room was enough.
“Aha. You’ve finally awakened!”
A man entered, leading a group of guards. Short in stature and gaunt, draped in expensive silk and wearing glittering jewelry on every single knuckle, he was a man whose aesthetic matched that of the room’s owner.
“Even the Left Horse General… if you found things like this, you should have brought them sooner.”
The man approached Seong Mu-yeon with a smirk. As he lowered his waist to look down at him, his jewelry clinked and jingled.
“You’re the Demonic Cult’s Seventh Young Master, right? And this one is the second young master of the Habeok Peng Clan.”
The man grabbed Seong Mu-yeon’s chin and yanked it up roughly. Caught off guard, Seong Mu-yeon irritably shook his head to break free from the man’s grip.
“And who might you be?”
“You don’t know me?”
“I don’t.”
“How can you not know me!? This is unbelievable!”
The man fell silent for a moment as if speechless, then suddenly flew into a rage, stomping his feet. Consequently, his jewelry shook up and down, making an even louder noise.
‘…How could I not know?’
Though they had never properly met, if this was Kilyeon Cliff, who else could this man—throwing a tantrum and stomping his feet in frustration—be if not the Poison Freak?
However, Seong Mu-yeon did not want to react the way he wanted. He was already fuming at the fact that he had been captured without even realizing it, and he had no desire to see the person who kidnapped him looking satisfied.
“I am the great Venomous Ox-Demon General, the Poison Freak of the Divine Demon Sect! Do you understand! Carve it into your mind!”
Seong Mu-yeon let out a scoff of ridicule. Was he trying to show off in front of an expert?
He took a deep breath and let out a thunderous roar.
“Whether you are the Poison Freak or whatever, I am the Demonic Cult’s Seventh Young Master! Unbind me this instant and show proper respect!”
At the imposing shout that echoed through the cavern, the Poison Freak flinched and stepped back a few paces. After breaking into a cold sweat for a moment, he awkwardly curled the corners of his mouth.
“…Phew, I almost fell for that.”
The Poison Freak glared fiercely.
“Do you still think you’re a noble young master of the Demonic Cult? Since you’ve rebelled against the Third Young Master, you’re as good as dead!”
“Ah, I see.”
Seong Mu-yeon deflated his puffed-out chest. It seemed the bluffing technique he had used so well until now had reached its expiration date.
“How lucky I am. Three pumpkins rolled in on a vine; I guess one really should live a virtuous life. If I offer you lot to my Lord, he’ll surely reward me, right?”
Who exactly had lived a virtuous life?
“…Excuse me, but what do you mean by ‘three pumpkins rolled in’? Do you mean me, Young Master Peng, and one other person?”
When Seong Mu-yeon spoke again, his tone had become exceedingly polite. The Poison Freak, thinking he had succumbed to his status and was groveling, twitched his lips and spoke.
“Ah, a few days ago, I happened to catch a woman, and it turns out she’s the famous Yak Seon.”
Seong Mu-yeon swallowed hard. The situation wasn’t great, but his heart began to race at the thought that Yak Seon was nearby. He could think of a way to break through the situation after meeting Yak Seon first.
“And? Where is Yak Seon now?”
“So I offered her straight to the Third Young Master. Seeing as he rushed over the moment I sent the Communication Device, she must be quite important. He didn’t show it outwardly, but he gave me a look of inner appreciation! Haha!”
“…So, is Yakseon Daein here or not…”
“What? Were you poking around like that to find that woman?”
Only then did the Poison Freak notice something strange and looked down at Seong Mu-yeon.
“But too bad! You’re a step too late! My Lord already took her away this dawn! Hahahahaha!”
“Then you should have said so from the start! Argh!”
Seong Mu-yeon was infuriated. After all that struggle, he had finally found her, only for her to be gone again! What a waste of effort!
“Haha! Don’t worry! Soon, such trivial matters won’t matter anymore! You have to pay for the Spirit Pill you devoured…”
The Poison Freak sneered at Seong Mu-yeon with a deep gaze.
“What does that mean? Pay for a Spirit Pill?”
“It means you’ll be following in the footsteps of your fourth brother who went first.”
The Poison Freak chuckled.
Spirit Pill…
It was the essence containing the Jin-gi of Seong Mu-yeon’s fourth brother, and it had been the cause of a frenzy throughout the Habeok region for some time.
Rumors had spread that if one consumed the Spirit Pill, there was no disease that couldn’t be cured, and one’s inner force would increase exponentially.
Some of it was true. The Magyo Fourth Young Master had been a Master who had accumulated a significant amount of Internal True Qi for his age, having washed his acupoints with Beolmo Sesu since birth, eaten spirit pills like meals, and trained with high intensity. If one absorbed his Jin-gi, they could become a Master in the blink of an eye—a height others could only dream of.
However, that medicine could not cure Seong Mu-yeon’s illness. Ultimately, since Meridian Disorder occurs when the body and Jin-gi are incompatible, increasing the amount of Jin-gi was nothing more than making the illness worse.
Seong Mu-yeon had pretended to eat the Spirit Pill so that people would stop chasing it, and he had fooled everyone. Afterward, the Spirit Pill fell into the hands of Yak Seon, but…
“You’re going to make a Spirit Pill out of me?”
“Yes! Scared? Make the most of the little time you have left.”
“I don’t know. Unlike my brothers, my martial arts aren’t great and I’m sick, so it’ll be useless even if you make a Spirit Pill. It’s a waste of effort.”
“Stupid. That’s just what you think! A Spirit Pill is…”
“It doesn’t matter how great the martial arts are. What matters is the amount of innate Jin-gi within the body.”
The sound of someone entering was heard.
“Left Horse General!”
The Poison Freak turned around and shouted.
‘Left Horse General?’
If the Venomous Ox-Demon General was the Third Young Master’s right hand, the man called the Left Horse General seemed to hold the position of the left hand.
‘Somehow, he sounds familiar.’
But the identity of the voice’s owner didn’t immediately come to mind. A faint, blurry image appeared and vanished, as if he almost remembered.
The man approached with slow steps and gradually revealed himself. The first thing that caught the eye was a white bamboo hat. Because a black cloth was wrapped around the brim, his face was hidden, as if he were wearing a veil hat.
The Left Horse General was a textbook Demonic Cult figure, exuding an air of secrecy. When had he heard that voice? No matter how much he racked his brain, no face came to mind.
The Left Horse General laughed lowly and pulled down the bamboo hat. The black cloth slid away, and his face was slowly revealed.
And then, Seong Mu-yeon realized why the voice had been familiar.
The reason he hadn’t immediately remembered who he was was because he was a dead man. He had thought he would never hear that voice again.
“Peng Yuan-jin… you are definitely dead.”
The owner of the voice was none other than Peng Yuan-jin.
To see the man he thought was dead walking in perfectly fine—the sight was so unbelievable that Seong Mu-yeon’s voice trembled miserably.
“It has been a long time, Young Master Seong Mu-yeon.”
Peng Yuan-jin smiled casually.
“Were you the one who brought me here, Young Master Peng Yuan-jin?”
“Yes, it was me. On my way back from an outing, I happened to witness a commotion and watched to see what was happening, only to find Do-hwan and Young Master Seong Mu-yeon. Fearing that the Heartless Sword might notice, I acted first without giving you prior notice. You must have been very surprised. I apologize.”
“…”
He expressed his apology in a gentle voice, just as he had in life—or rather, three years ago.
His appearance was so composed and natural that Seong Mu-yeon wondered if he was dreaming. Perhaps the part where Peng Yuan-jin died was the dream.