MUC 10

Chapter 10

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“Well, well. You died once and came back even more arrogant. Looks like I need to teach you a lesson right now…!”

A man unsheathed his sword, and Dokgo Ryong placed his hand over his sword’s hilt, creating a tense, explosive standoff.

“Dokgo Cheonun!”

A booming voice echoed from inside the grand hall.

“I told you to let them in!”

The voice immediately calmed the tense atmosphere that had been on the verge of erupting.

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Dokgo Cheonun shot a glare at Dokgo Ryong before reluctantly sheathing his sword.

“…Consider yourself lucky.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Click—

Dokgo Ryong, who had half-drawn his sword, calmly slid it back into its sheath. Then, along with Eun Sowol, he began climbing the stairs.

As they brushed past Dokgo Cheonun, Sowol’s eyes met his briefly. A chill ran down her spine, and her vision suddenly darkened.

“Don’t look at him. It’ll rot your eyes.”

Dokgo Ryong’s hand gently covered her eyes. Knowing he was protecting her, Sowol gripped his hand tightly with both of hers.

As they entered the hall, they saw several people gathered—and seated at the head was an old man.

Sowol instinctively knew.

‘That must be my grandfather.’

His hair was more silver than black, and deep wrinkles creased his face, telling of his advanced age. His thick brows and tightly set mouth reflected his strict, uncompromising nature.

Even with a robe draped over him, his sturdy build was evident, and the overwhelming pressure he exuded made Sowol feel as though he was a towering mountain.

The moment she stepped inside, Sowol became extremely tense.

The head of the household’s gaze was so oppressive, she felt like she couldn’t even breathe.

But Dokgo Ryong seemed unfazed. He simply stopped a respectful distance away and waited.

An awkward silence filled the air.

Sowol, unsure of what to do, mimicked Dokgo Ryong and stood quietly. But soon, murmurs of disapproval began to ripple through the people present.

“How dare you stand before the family head without even bowing!”

“Even if you’re low-born, you should at least show basic manners!”

“Master! We shouldn’t have allowed him in after all! Let’s throw him out right now—!”

“Uh… Hello?”

Amid the angry shouting, a young, bright voice chimed in. All eyes turned to the speaker.

Large, sparkling eyes dominated a small face. She was so tiny, she seemed like less than half the size of the adult men present.

Her cheerful energy clashed completely with the heavy, dangerous atmosphere.

“…Was that not the right thing to do?”

She had heard everyone talk about manners and greetings, so she had simply greeted them—but now piercing stares shot toward her like arrows.

Feeling she had made a mistake, Sowol quickly grabbed the hem of Dokgo Ryong’s clothes. Sure enough, he let out a faint chuckle.

“Expecting a greeting from the son you abandoned fifteen years ago… Isn’t that a bit shameless?”

The entire hall sank into heavy silence.

“…Are you truly Dokgo Ryong?”

“If you want, I can tell you exactly how I was treated here and how I was thrown out. Would that make you believe me?”

“……”

The head of the household said nothing. Instead, one of the attendants spoke.

“Indeed, it’s been fifteen years since you left. So why have you returned now?”

“It’s not like I wanted to come back. What riches or glory would I find in a place full of stubborn, closed-minded old men?”

‘Wow… Look at Uncle go.’

Everyone standing there had gray hair—it was obvious they were all much older—and yet he spoke without the slightest ounce of respect.

Seeing several men clutching at their necks as if about to faint from rage, Sowol secretly clicked her tongue.

“And besides, do I really need to prove anything?”

Dokgo Ryong removed his black cap.

“We look like we were stamped out of the same mold.”

No one could argue.

The resemblance between the two was undeniable—sharp eyes, tightly set lips, even the frown lines between their brows.

If someone wanted to see what the family head had looked like in his youth, they only needed to look at Dokgo Ryong. Likewise, Ryong’s future appearance could be glimpsed through the old man.

Everyone clearly recognized the truth, and no one challenged Dokgo Ryong’s identity anymore.

“Before we begin… I doubt this conversation will be appropriate for a child.”

“…Ahem.”

It seemed the others realized it too, as they coughed awkwardly.

“Take the child somewhere else for now. Then we’ll talk.”

“…Very well. Chief steward!”

“Yes, Master.”

“Escort the child to the guest hall nearby.”

“Understood.”

The chief steward—who had remained silent until now—approached Sowol.

“…No.”

But Sowol immediately rejected the hand he extended toward her.

“I don’t want to leave Uncle.”

She gripped Dokgo Ryong’s sleeve tightly, her tiny fist turning white from the force.

Somehow, she knew deep down—she absolutely shouldn’t be separated from him.

“Uncle, I promise I’ll behave. I won’t cause any trouble. So… can’t I stay with you?”

Her voice trembled with the hint of tears, but she didn’t actually cry. Instead, she simply looked up at Dokgo Ryong with wide, fearful eyes.

For a brief moment, Dokgo Ryong’s eyes wavered. He clenched his jaw, then bent down to meet her gaze directly.

“It’s okay.”

His voice, always rough and gruff, was now gentle for the very first time.

That alone soothed Sowol’s terror—the fear that she might be abandoned.

“…You promise? You’ll come back?”

“I promise.”

His rough hand gently patted her small head, and only then did Sowol hesitantly let go.

Once her presence had completely disappeared from the hall, Dokgo Ryong straightened up. His expression, once warm, was now as cold and sharp as a blade.

“Now… Shall we get down to business?”