Chapter 14

“Guard Yeon.”

Wang Ga-hwa called Yeon Mujin.

“What?”

He answered curtly.

“…?”

Wang Ga-hwa twitched an eyebrow and glared at him.

“You call someone and then don’t speak to them?”

“Excuse me, but your words are rather blunt.”

“And so?”

Wang Ga-hwa gave a hollow laugh at his brazenness.

Jeong Yeo-gwang stepped closer to her and whispered, “Just don’t mind him. He’s a madman by nature.”

“Shut up.”

The guard head obeyed and fell silent.

“Tonight after the banquet, I thought we’d hold a duel between Guard head Jeong and Guard Yeon.”

“A duel?”

“Just to see what the great Bukgung Guards Tournament winner’s skill is like. And since someone dared speak ill of our manor, surely you won’t be backing out now, will you?”

Wang Ga-hwa flashed a coquettish smile.

She had laced the food Yeon Mujin ate for the duel with poison. When Bukgung Yoon served those strange dishes she was slightly startled, but the overall plan held.

The poison was a compound—each ingredient harmless alone, but when taken in sequence they combined to become lethal. The final cup that would trigger the compound’s effect was in her hand.

“Of course it will be a light duel. You needn’t worry too much. After Guard head Jeong sees Guard Yeon’s skill in the duel, he’ll be assigned formally to guard duty…”

There would, of course, be no “after.”

Yeon Mujin listened to Wang Ga-hwa with a faint smile and then said, “Fine. Do it.”

“Wonderful!”

She produced a sake bottle from within her clothes. “This is Female Dream Alcohol prepared to welcome Guard Yeon. It’s a precious type of alcohol—please taste it.”

It was truly a rare wine, able to fetch a fortune for a single bottle. Even the wealth‑boasting Bukgung Family did not often have it. That single cup was the final finishing touch of her scheme.

Wang Ga-hwa filled Yeon Mujin’s cup, and to avoid suspicion, she handed the remaining wine to Guard head Jeong and the other martial men.

If one avoided the food, alcohol alone would have no effect—meticulous calculation.

Jeong Yeo-gwang raised his cup. “For Flying Swallow Manor!”

The women of the internal affairs section echoed, “To that!”

“For mu lady Bukgung Yoon!” the martial men chimed, their expressions uneasy.

“To that…!”

“For the Great Bukgung Family!”

“To that!”

Finally Yeon Mujin raised his cup and led the chant loudly: “To the death of traitors!”

Two faces in the hall hardened at his words. The room chilled.

Ssshhh!

Yeon Mujin tilted his cup and drained the alcohol in one gulp. No one echoed his shout.

Clack!

He set his cup down and declared, “Today is the day to draw swords.”

After the banquet ended and while the duel was being prepared, several martial men from the guard unit came to see Yeon Mujin.

He sat alone, immersed in qi cultivation.

“Oh dear!”

“Should we call him cold‑hearted or just carefree…?”

“Hey, Guard Yeon!”

Yeon Mujin paused his breathing exercise, opened one eye, and said, “You don’t disturb someone who’s concentrating on qi.”

“Anyway, you’re not really cultivating qi. Aren’t you just pretending?”

He didn’t reply and closed his eyes again.

Yang Gwan-wol stepped forward as spokesman. “Don’t do this duel.”

Yeon Mujin stayed silent with his eyes shut, but Yang Gwan-wol knew he heard everything, so he pressed on.

“Something about the housemistress—her movements seem suspicious. Do you know what Guard head Jeong told us? This is a trap. So avoid it. Why get soaked when it’s raining? I know you dislike the housemistress and Guard head Jeong, but now is not the time. I think they tampered with the food you ate. They intend to use the duel as an excuse to do something to you.”

“…”

“Hey, are you listening?”

“There was poison in it.”

“What?”

“The alcohol Wang Ga-hwa handed at the end. That seems to be the trigger. What they prepared was poison.”

“…What?”

Shock flitted across the faces of the martial men who had partaken.

“Don’t worry. It’s a poison cleverly calibrated to compound through the food. Truly, as you expect from the Bukgung Family—to use such high‑grade poison in this scheme, think of how much it cost…”

Not merely slipping in poison, but arranging foods so the poison combined—this was sophisticated work. Only someone with considerable expertise could pull it off.

“You lot are safe. Of course Bukgung Yoon is too.”

The martial men sighed in relief at Yeon Mujin’s words.

But.

“Then what about you?” Seo Nak-il asked. “You ate all of the compound poison, didn’t you?”

Yeon Mujin opened one eye and said, “Do I look like someone who would be felled by such petty poison?”

His tone was the same as always—wild, arrogant, disagreeable.

“Are you perhaps ‘immune to a hundred poisons’?”

Yeon Mujin snorted. “Is ‘immune to a hundred poisons’ the name of the dog next door?”

“Then how are you so fine?”

“Hey. Do you know why a wandering warrior is strong?”

The men shook their heads.

“All the weak ones are dead. Unlike the prestigious families who care about duels and honor, a ronin’s fight has none of that. A wanderer’s life is to fight in any situation. To survive, you must grow strong.”

“…”

“And I survived.”

Their mouths twisted into bitter smiles at his bravado.

“Words alone won’t do it.”

“Is that all you’ve got to say?” Yang Gwan-wol sighed. “Taking control of the manor from Lady Wang and Guard head Jeong should be done slowly, over time. You can’t take them down right away. There’s no need to fall for a trap we know exists. We’ll… help you.”

The last words were soft as an ant’s whisper.

Yeon Mujin frowned. “What did you say?”

“…I’ll help.”

“What? Speak up like a man. After eating well, why’s your voice so small?”

“Aiy, we’re saying we’ll help you! We’ll help set Flying Swallow Manor upright! So, uh? I don’t know if it’ll work, but we’ll lend the miss some strength! You won’t just be pushed around by Guard head Jeong!”

“We’ve gathered only those who share the same intent to come find you. At first we thought, ‘what a bunch of madmen,’ but we know you didn’t act with ill intent.”

Seo Nak-il added his words.

Yeon Mujin closed his eyes and smiled quietly. He hadn’t expected this; it was an unexpected gain.

“Idiots. Your skills will be of great help.”

He never said thanks.

At that moment, word came that the duel preparations were complete. Yeon Mujin uncrossed his legs and slowly rose.

“What are you doing? Going?”

“I’m going.”

“Did you not even hear what we said? This is a trap!” Yang Gwan-wol shouted.

Screech!

“Ack!”

“I know that too.”

Yang Gwan-wol grabbed his forehead and looked at Yeon Mujin with a pale face.

But then he noticed: Yeon Mujin’s face was flushed, his body trembled slightly, and sweat had soaked his shabby tunic—far more than brief qi cultivation could explain.

“You lot,” Yeon Mujin said. “Anyone can babble. What’s important is not words but action. Prepare yourselves. From today everything in this manor will change. Those who board the new ship live; those who can’t keep up die. Do you know why?”

No one answered.

Yeon Mujin answered for them. “Because I came here.”

“—Guard head Jeong. There’s only one thing you need to do. Stall for as long as possible. If you buy time, the poison he ate will begin to take effect. It’s a toxin that brings tremendous pain, so at that moment feign a mistake, you understand?”

Wang Ga-hwa’s request to Jeong Yeo-gwang.

She deliberately delayed the duel, pushing back the time to wait for the poison’s decisive moment.

“—Guard head Jeong. This is your last chance. If you don’t handle it properly I’ll report to the Sixth Young lord. You know you’re replaceable to him, don’t you?”

Of course he did.

Jeong Yeo-gwang faced Yeon Mujin. Standing on the duel stage, Yeon Mujin looked perfectly fine. Had the poison not fully spread yet? Should he stall for more time?

Jeong Yeo-gwang spoke, “Guard Yeon, do you know that—”

“…?”

“In truth, my origins are not good.”

Jeong’s hometown was a small martial arts clan in Lanzhou, Henan Province. His father was a peddler, not a warrior. His mother died before he was born, so he didn’t even know her name. Jeong grew up under his widower father’s care.

Scraping together what little money he had to send his son to learn martial arts—that was the fatherly love of a poor peddler. Jeong’s martial talent wasn’t bad, but learning higher arts required more money than his aging father could provide.

Talent, first class.

Master, second class.

Family, third class.

That summed up warrior Jeong Yeo-gwang in three lines.

His background was his inferiority complex. Jeong always clutched the rotten rope of power if it meant protecting his bowl of rice, even when that choice meant groveling. That was Jeong Yeo-gwang’s life.

But…

“So what?” Yeon Mujin answered. He wasn’t even angry anymore—he had expected the mutt to react that way.

Seeing the mongrel of a man before him, Jeong felt ashamed, as if Yeon Mujin were mocking his petty scrabbles over a small bowl of rice. They were of similarly low birth, yet Jeong Yeo-gwang and Yeon Mujin were entirely different.

So, at least for this final moment—

“Guard Yeon.”

“…?”

Before drawing his sword, Jeong Yeo-gwang offered a respectful bow. “I will do my best.”

He intended to end this duel swiftly and decisively, throwing everything he had into it.

Yeon Mujin did not respond to the salute. He neither returned the bow nor accepted the greeting. He drew his sword as well—it was the first sword he had drawn since the regression.

Thus the two lowly swordsmen pointed their blades at each other. Heavy tension hung over the duel stage.

“You said this was a practice duel, right?”

Sensing the ominous atmosphere, Bukgung Yoon asked Wang Ga-hwa, who ignored her and smiled as she watched the stage.

“My lady, don’t worry. Everything will go well.”

Not for her, but for Wang Ga-hwa.

Yeon Mujin said, “Yeo-gwang, you fool.”

“…?”

“For someone who couldn’t even be cowardly to the end, why did you live like that?”