By Zephyria 
“It seems they are from the Old Demon Sect.”
“What a relief! I nearly had a heart attack.”
People began to whisper upon hearing Seong Mu-yeon’s murmur. Once they confirmed that the army did not belong to the Third Young Master’s Divine Demon Sect, they breathed sighs of relief, clutching their chests.
“It is too early to let your guard down. They have brought thousands of troops here without seeking any permission. They may have other intentions.”
Ma Jin-cheon warned in a heavy voice. The people fell silent, letting out low groans.
Seong Mu-yeon shared Ma Jin-cheon’s thoughts. He wasn’t certain why the Ilgongja had accompanied himself with such a massive force.
“I… will go and check.”
“Oh, would you do that for us?”
Seong Mu-yeon stared blankly at the person who had spoken. It was someone whose name and face he had never seen before, yet the man was wearing a friendly smile as if he and Seong Mu-yeon had been close for a long time.
“….”
Seong Mu-yeon did not find the stranger’s friendliness particularly welcome. Until yesterday, most of these people would have been desperate to harm him.
Seeing how they welcomed him so warmly the moment he volunteered for danger in their stead didn’t exactly leave him feeling good.
“Ahem.”
As if realizing his own unsightly behavior, the man cleared his throat awkwardly and slunk back into the crowd.
“Seong Mu-yeon. Will you be alright?”
Baek Ryeo-il called out to him in a worried voice.
“I should be fine.”
…Probably.
If the Ilgongja intended to wipe them all out, he would be heading to the afterlife anyway, so it didn’t matter how he died.
“Mu-yeon, you can’t!”
This time, Jegal Yeom-gang shouted. He hurriedly pulled Seong Mu-yeon behind him.
“What is wrong with all of you? Do you have any shred of shame? You persecuted him relentlessly, and now that you need him, you call him a friend? What on earth is going on in your heads! Don’t even dream of it!”
He scolded the crowd fiercely with a grim expression. A solemn atmosphere settled over the group.
“You don’t need to step forward. There is no need to do anything for those who would shamelessly send you into a death trap.”
Jegal Yeom-gang gripped Seong Mu-yeon’s shoulder firmly.
Seong Mu-yeon let out a sigh. The reactions were far too polarized. One side was smiling and pushing him forward, while the other was clinging to his pant legs; he felt a wave of fatigue wash over him.
“Now… isn’t that a bit harsh?”
Just then, a leisurely voice echoed from across the plain.
The two camps were positioned almost at opposite ends of the plain, to the point where Seong Mu-cheon looked no larger than a fingernail.
However, the voice sounded as clear as if he were speaking right next to them.
For martial artists, this distance was not a significant obstacle for communication. The Ilgongja had been standing there leisurely, listening to their entire conversation.
“I am aware of what you think of us, but even so, this is a bit much. You speak as if I’m going to harm the boy; surely you haven’t forgotten that he is my youngest brother?”
It was a habitual mistake made by the orthodox sect martial artists, who for many years had not treated the Demonic Cult as equals. Since bloodbaths usually ensued whenever the Orthodox and Demonic sides met, they were unfamiliar with situations where they had to gauge and coordinate intentions at such a close distance.
“Well… given the circumstances, it’s not an absurd misunderstanding. But you, youngest—do you think so too? Are you afraid of your older brother?”
Seong Mu-cheon laughed lowly, almost self-mockingly. He spoke calmly without taking any action, but perhaps because of his arrogant and confident demeanor, a strange pressure could be felt.
Seong Mu-yeon grew tense. No one doubted that the Ilgongja, Seong Mu-cheon, would inherit the position of the next Cult Leader. The gap between the First Young Master and the Seventh Young Master was as wide as the distance between heaven and earth. Seong Mu-cheon had always been busy assisting the Cult Leader in managing the Demonic Cult and had no capacity to take an interest in his insignificant youngest brother.
Seong Mu-yeon couldn’t tell if Seong Mu-cheon’s question about whether he was afraid was a joke or a serious inquiry. He needed to know at least a little about him to decide whether to smile or remain solemn, but he had absolutely no idea how to deal with him.
When Seong Mu-yeon didn’t answer, Seong Mu-cheon burst into laughter again, interpreting the silence in his own way.
“So he is… Second brother, what do you think?”
As it turned out, Seong Mu-cheon was not alone. The Second Young Master, Seong Mu-ryong, who had been hiding in the back row, slowly stepped forward.
“There is no need to react to everything they say.”
“Right? As expected of my brother. How wise.”
Seong Mu-yeon’s eyes widened. It was a big deal enough that the busy Ilgongja had come in person, but seeing the First and Second Young Masters appear together meant that something serious was undoubtedly happening, whatever it may be.
“The youngest says he’s too scared to come over, so you try persuading him. Aren’t you two close?”
“….”
Seong Mu-ryong flinched, then lifted his expressionless face to glance at Seong Mu-yeon. However, the moment their eyes met, he immediately looked away. Seong Mu-yeon had a similar reaction.
As an awkward current flowed between the two brothers, Seong Mu-cheon rested his chin on his hand and let out a “Hmm.”
“Did you two fight?”
“We aren’t children, why would we fight…”
“They definitely fought.”
Seong Mu-ryong turned his head completely away, as if he didn’t want to hear it.
“I don’t understand why you people are holding him back under the guise of worry when my brother simply wants to catch up with his family, but since I am generous, I will make a concession. Let’s do this: three from our side and three from yours will come forward and talk in the middle.”
Though he had hesitated for a moment, upon hearing Seong Mu-cheon’s proposal, Seong Mu-yeon didn’t feel the need to resist. Judging by the attitude, there seemed to be no intention to cause harm.
“Fine! I accept!”
However, the impulsive Jegal Yeom-gang agreed before he could stop him, leaving him with no choice. Suddenly, the sibling reunion took on a strange appearance, similar to a hostage exchange.
Seong Mu-yeon was accompanied by Baek Ryeo-il and Ma Jin-cheon. Jegal Yeom-gang insisted aggressively that he should be the one to go, but he was not accepted. His dissatisfied face gradually receded into the distance.
Seong Mu-cheon stepped forward with Seong Mu-ryong and Heukmajo.
Heukmajo glared at Baek Ryeo-il with a terrifying gaze. As the distance closed, the faint traces of the previous battle could be seen across Heukmajo’s body. The person who had left Heukmajo in that state was Baek Ryeo-il.
However, when that gaze landed on Seong Mu-yeon, it became several times more vicious. The sound of her grinding her teeth pierced his ears.
“Meeting in a place like this brings back memories. Isn’t that right, youngest?”
Seong Mu-cheon stared straight at Seong Mu-yeon. In his eyes, there was a strong curiosity and interest that hadn’t been there before.
To a man who had too many things to worry about, a youngest brother with no outstanding qualities had been nothing more than an invisible man. The only time the existence of Seong Mu-yeon had ever struck his mind was over a decade ago, at the banquet where the Seventh Madam died. That had also been the last time.
The Seventh Prince, Seong Mu-yeon, who had vanished one day. Unlike when their father was in good health, Seong Mu-cheon hadn’t cared whether he ran away or not.
However, Seong Mu-yeon, who had shown no prominence within the cult, only revealed his light after going outside.
To stand shoulder to shoulder so confidently with the people of the orthodox sects, whose pride pierced the heavens. For Seong Mu-cheon, that was something impossible even in a dream.
…It seemed many things had happened for him to become like that.
Regardless…
If it weren’t for Seong Mu-yeon, a meeting like this—where they faced the orthodox sects to engage in conversation rather than swords—would never have been possible.
‘…Why is he looking at me like that?’
Meanwhile, Seong Mu-yeon found Seong Mu-cheon’s gaze strangely uncomfortable.
Since Seong Mu-yeon could never have imagined that Seong Mu-cheon viewed him as admirable and commendable, he simply found the situation awkward.
However, since Baek Ryeo-il was standing firmly by his side, he felt there was nothing in the world to fear.
As his tension subsided, his stiff body gradually relaxed.
“I heard you went through something major. Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Yes, well. Have you been doing well, Brother?”
“I have no reason not to.”
Seong Mu-yeon tried his best to ignore Seong Mu-ryong, who kept glancing at him.
“That aside… what is with those troops? How did you bring thousands of soldiers here without anyone knowing, avoiding the gaze of Kunlun?”
“There’s no rush. We should introduce ourselves first. I am Seong Mu-cheon of the Demonic Cult. This is my brother Seong Mu-ryong, and my subordinate Heukmajo.”
Once Seong Mu-cheon finished the introductions, Ma Jin-cheon gave a short nod.
“I am Ma Jin-cheon of Mount Hua. Meeting like this… hm.”
Ma Jin-cheon, who was about to habitually say it was a ‘pleasure,’ shut his mouth. After pausing for a moment as if searching for the right word, he added:
“This is interesting.”
“I agree.”
Seong Mu-cheon grinned, revealing his white, even teeth.