If it was Poison King, he might have noticed it—that had been gnawing at .
And it turned out to be true.
‘So then, is this blackmail?’
Teach Tang Cheonil Myriad-Flowers Rain by any ans necessary over the next half year.
If you do that, I won’t bring up your secret.
That was the real aning behind this whole conversation.
“I give you my word.”
Poison King spoke.
“Second Young Master will absolutely not show discourtesy to Young Master Bang or do anything that would get in your way.”
“......”
“And, during this half year in which Young Master Bang is extending his generosity—if Tang Clan’s power is needed for anything you must do, whatever it may be, I will do my best to provide it.”
My eyes widened at that.
Taken as-is, that was also him saying that for at least half a year, Tang Clan would be my backing.
Not a monopoly or priority over Iron River.
But Tang Clan itself becoming my power.
‘...That’s fucking beautiful.’
The admiration slipped out on its own.
It was admiration for Poison King’s way with words and the way he moved the situation.
‘The essence of it is blackmail, but he’s expressing it so damn well as a deal.’
If you don’t listen, I can use your secret to bury you.
That was the essence of this conversation.
‘And yet he’s wrapped it so well you don’t feel it.’
Poison King had buried that essence deep inside and wrapped the outside in luxury.
Like he’d fallen to his knees because he desperately needed my strength.
‘More precisely...’
He was fine-tuning every move so that I would feel that way.
He’d stuck Poison Dragon—soone who’d never gotten along with —at my side with his head bowed.
He was handing the backing I’d so badly wanted, and at the sa ti—
‘He’s seasoning it with blackmail so I actually do the job.’
He was also making damn sure I didn’t forget that we were holding each other’s leashes.
Poison King was using all of that as a calculated move.
My lips curled up on their own.
[Huh? Has this brat lost his mind...? Why are you suddenly laughing.]
Yoo Cheongil stared at strangely as I suddenly held back a laugh.
I couldn’t help it; the laughter just slipped out.
‘Been a while.’
It had been a long ti since I’d seen soone who played their moves this well. It made smile without realizing it.
It was a sha.
‘Should’ve taken this seriously from the start.’
I regretted not going all-out under the excuse of “doing it half-heartedly.”
This uncle was more than worth the effort.
But.
‘A sha is a sha.’
Right now I had to focus on the conversation in front of .
“Then what happens if, during this half year, I fail to properly teach Second Young Master?”
It wasn’t exactly a short period, but even so—what if I couldn’t properly pass Myriad-Flowers Rain on to Tang Cheonil?
To that question, Poison King replied,
“If that happens, it simply ans Second Young Master’s talent was lacking, so I will not lay the bla on Young Master Bang.”
“That’s a strange way to put it. There’s also the chance that I simply didn’t teach him properly, isn’t there?”
“Do you intend to do that?”
I shut my mouth at his question.
I thought for a very short mont, then gave my answer.
“If I’ve accepted it, I’ll do my best to teach him properly. Instead, I’d like to set a few conditions.”
“Conditions?”
“Yes. I have my own ti and things I need to do, so we’ll have to set the number of sessions and the ti.”
“...Ho.”
“That would give you more confidence as well, wouldn’t it, Clan Head?”
“So you’re saying I can take this as your decision to accept the matter?”
“Mm...”
I tilted my head a little and said,
“Let’s at least talk through the details first.”
And with that, a not-so-short exchange with Poison King began.
*****
It had been the previous night.
—However you have to do it, master it within half a year.
That was what Poison King said to Tang Cheonil, who had been summoned without warning.
Stick to Bang Sungyeon and master the Myriad-Flowers Rain he uses.
Dragged out in the middle of the night and told sothing that made no sense, Tang Cheonil, of course, pushed back.
To cling to that bastard for half a year, bowing his head to learn martial arts?
It was sothing he could never accept, so he’d been about to throw a fit at the Clan Head if he had to.
—There is no refusal.
“—Clan Head—!”
Poison King was firm. When he said there was no right to refuse, Tang Cheonil had been about to explode in fury when—
—Second Young Master.
Poison King’s sharp pressure crashed down on him.
—I only tolerate your nonsense because you are my son. And furthermore—
KGGGGK—!!
Tang Cheonil clenched down on a groan as his bones felt like they were being crushed.
—You yourself declared you would give up the Young Clan Head’s position so as not to infringe on First Young Master’s standing. # Nоvеlight # You know full well that is the only reason I have not blad you up to now.
CLICK.
The hand that had been radiating that pressure moved. A drawer slid open and an envelope slid out.
It floated up into the air on its own. Poison King had used his ability to seize it out of thin air.
The slowly moving envelope unfolded in front of Tang Cheonil’s eyes.
Tang Cheonil still couldn’t move; he could only scan the letter with his eyes.
—...!
His body jolted hard as he saw what it was.
“—Kh...!! Why...!”
—I no longer have any reason to indulge your nonsense.
“—C-Clan Head...!”
—I have let you have your way until now. In accordance with our agreent, you have kept your position and fa as one of the Seven Prodigies, so I have left that child alone to live as he wished.
RUSTLE.
The opened letter folded itself back up and returned to Poison King’s hand.
—But thanks to your pathetic behavior, even that has started to crumble. I see no need to do so any longer.
“—That’s...!”
“—Do you an to make excuses for your defeat, Second Young Master?”
“......”
Tang Cheonil fell silent at Poison King’s words.
Was there any excuse he could make for this loss? He tried to think of one, but there was nothing he could say.
He had been completely defeated by Bang Sungyeon. That bastard.
“......”
Poison King watched him quietly, then turned his gaze aside for a mont.
—However, seeing that child has produced a proper result, I will overlook the matter of Iron River.
“......!”
Tang Cheonil’s expression changed in shock at those next words.
—But that is all. Nothing will change on account of that. Least of all the contents of this letter.
“—Clan Head... that’s...”
—So carry it out properly.
Poison King spoke and looked back at Tang Cheonil.
—If you do not, I will carry out what is written in this letter. Second Young Master. You know very well what that ans.
SSSSSSS...
The pressure that had been bearing down on him thinned and thinned until Tang Cheonil’s body was free again.
But Tang Cheonil didn’t move an inch.
—This is the last generosity I am willing to show in order to indulge you.
“......”
—If you bear a grudge against it, or you do not wish to do it, say so. The Young Clan Head has many duties, but this is a matter of the clan. I could always tell him instead—
“I’ll do it...”
Tang Cheonil spoke with his fists clenched.
“...Half a year. I’ll manage it sohow in that ti.”
He would get it done, by whatever ans necessary.
Seeing the resolve burning in his eyes, Poison King nodded after a mont.
—You may go.
“Yes.”
Tang Cheonil imdiately turned his back.
His eyes were bloodshot with rage, veins standing out—but he swallowed it down.
Half a year. At that point, he had sothing he absolutely had to accomplish within that ti.
CRRRUNCH—!
The stone under his stepping foot crumbled to powder.
In front of Poison King’s quarters, face twisted into a snarl, Tang Cheonil vented his anger as much as he could.
“...You fucking bastard.”
CRRRUNCH—! THUMP—!
He spat a curse and stomped the ground over and over.
This was the only place he could vent his shattered pride.
“Goddammit...!”
That smug, slithering expression he’d seen that morning still wouldn’t leave his mind.
The mont he’d gone to him and bowed his head, Bang Sungyeon had smirked like he’d figured sothing out.
Tang Cheonil hated that expression so much he could taste it.
‘Like...’
Those eyes and that curl of his lip, like he already had everything figured out.
Just seeing those arrogant eyes made him want to grind the bastard under his heel.
‘...That son of a bitch.’
THUD—! He stomped the ground again, but with less force than before.
“Huuuu...”
He let out a sigh. The match against Bang Sungyeon ca back to him.
At first, he’d picked a fight just because he was the Sword Saint’s successor.
After that, other reasons had piled on.
In the end, they’d ended up crossing blades.
‘...Shit.’
He’d lost. Every one of his moves had been penetrated, and in the end he’d been defeated.
It burned. It burned worse than when he’d lost to that bear-like bastard from Peng Clan in Hebei.
‘Why?’
To the eye, the kid had clearly looked weaker than him. But the mont the match started, he’d shown a completely different side.
He’d looked full of openings, like every attack would go through easily—
And yet none of his attacks had really landed.
‘Those eyes.’
Those arrogant eyes, like they knew everything.
And inside them, that ominous blue.
Those eyes really had felt like they were reading every one of his movents.
Not only moving before he could, but dodging or blocking as if he knew in advance exactly where Tang Cheonil would end up.
And on top of that—
‘That hardened qi, what the hell was that...’
That shining hardened qi wrapped around his blade.
The mont he saw it, Tang Cheonil had felt a distant gap.
So he really is the Sword Saint’s successor?
Back when he’d heard Bang had beaten Little Azure Sword, he’d honestly thought, what’s the big deal about beating Little Azure Sword?
But then—
‘...He killed Demonic Leather Spear?’
A master far beyond the pinnacle that Poison King himself had once said he’d killed.
It was strange enough that soone who was supposed to be dead had shown up again.
‘And this bastard killed him?’
Alone, at that.
Tang Cheonil hadn’t been able to believe that absurd story.
“...Haa.”
But having experienced him firsthand, even with his pride wounded, he could kind of see it.
After seeing that sword force, there wasn’t much left he couldn’t believe.
The problem was—
“...I have to learn Myriad-Flowers Rain from that bastard?”
Putting all of that aside—what really grated was that he had to go to Bang Sungyeon, that shitty bastard, and ask to be taught.
‘How the hell is that even possible?’
Myriad-Flowers Rain, the Tang Clan’s secret art.
It was already insane that Bang Sungyeon was using it at all—and now he had to master it from the bastard in half a year?
It was utterly ridiculous.
He couldn’t begin to understand how any of this made sense.
“...Fuck.”
But it wasn’t like he had any other way out.
He had to do it.
By whatever ans necessary, he had to pull it off.
Only then—
Would he be able to keep the things he wanted to keep.
“...Huuu...”
Tang Cheonil forced down his emotions and steadied his breathing with a long exhale.
CREAK—!
The door to the Clan Head’s quarters opened and the one he’d been waiting for stepped out.
A handso young man in blue martial robes, with blue eyes.
Bang Sungyeon.
“Heh-hehem.”
He humd a little tune as he walked, like sothing had put him in a very good mood.
Then he t Tang Cheonil’s eyes.
“Oh! Our Cheonil. Your big brother was waiting.”
“......”
BBRRRRR—.
The first thing out of his mouth was so bullshit like that.
Big brother? Big. Brother?
That bastard...?
‘I’m at least five years older than him.’
From what he’d heard, the kid wasn’t even past twenty yet.
Big brother?
At that ridiculous line, Tang Cheonil’s eyes sharpened for an instant.
“Got sothing in your eye? They’re looking kind of sharp.”
“...N-No, nothing.”
“Good. Wouldn’t want that, hahahaha.”
TAP TAP.
Bang Sungyeon kept patting Tang Cheonil’s shoulder with his hand.
“You’re not glaring at your big brother or anything, right? Yeah?”
“...Nghs....”
“Relax your mouth when you talk.”
“...Yes.”
“Good boy.”
KGGGGGK.
Should I just quit right now? He seriously considered it.
Should I just say screw it and pick another fight?
If he put all this emotion into it and challenged him again, he was sure he could win.
That was what he decided for a heartbeat as he curled his fist and was about to swing it.
“Then go pack your bags.”
“...What?”
He froze at Bang Sungyeon’s words.
Pack...?
“Yeah, pack. What are you doing?”
“...What...?”
“What do you an, what.”
Bang Sungyeon grinned.
“I’m going ho, obviously. You’re coming too.”
“......”
“Go pack. We’re leaving first thing tomorrow.”
“......”
Tang Cheonil, age twenty-three.
That was the mont his sudden trip to Henan was decided.
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