Chapter 129: A Walk Into Hell

Sirak, who had been waiting all day for the Imperial Guards to come and arrest him, swallowed a sigh of relief at the news that the Minister of Rites had testified to acting alone.

Fortunately, it seemed his relationship with the Minister had not yet been discovered.

Indeed, it was an affair from very long ago.

Moreover, since Sirak’s mother had been away from the capital for a long time, there were not many who remembered.

Seeing as even the proprietress of Jayangnu was unaware of it, he felt safe assuming that almost no one knew the truth.

That night, Sirak finally felt enough at ease to catch a bit of sleep.

Of course, because he had felt a delayed surge of rage over the Empress returning unscathed, his sleep was just as fitful as before.

He thought the next day would also pass without incident.

However, no sooner had the dinner table been cleared than Yoon Seok-hwan, the Captain of the Black Shadow Unit, paid a visit to the Consort’s Palace.

Having come alone, he offered only a slight nod of greeting before delivering the Emperor’s command.

“His Majesty has ordered me to escort you.”

Had he been summoned to the Great Hall, the Emperor would have sent a court lady or a eunuch belonging to that palace.

‘Did he leave me be just to put me at ease before plotting this?’

Rather than thinking that what was inevitable had arrived, Sirak first felt a surge of rage at the Emperor’s behavior—intentionally toying with a person’s heart.

Clenching his fists within his long sleeves, Sirak asked Seok-hwan in a soft voice.

“Where has His Majesty summoned me?”

“You shall find out once you arrive.”

“It is late, so please follow me quickly.”

“His Majesty instructed that there be no delay.”

Even though Sirak’s face hardened, Seok-hwan acted as if he merely had to follow the Emperor’s orders.

He had already moved toward the inner chamber door before Sirak could even reply.

As the waiting court ladies opened the door, he looked back at Sirak.

At the man’s insolent posture, gesturing with his head toward the door, Sirak exhaled a long, furious breath through his nose.

‘Even this wretch dares to look down on me.’

‘A mere soldier who hasn’t even received a proper rank.’

Despite Sirak’s fierce glare, Seok-hwan remained unruffled.

On the contrary, he tilted his head as if urging him to move.

“His Majesty told me to escort you carefully.”

“However, he also said that if there is a delay, I am to use any means or methods necessary.”

“Therefore, it would be best for you to follow me quietly.”

Although the man used polite language, Sirak felt the subtle weight of a downward gaze and stiffened his face.

This was all because the Emperor’s attitude had changed.

There was a time when he whispered that Sirak was the most precious person to him, promising to pluck even the moon for him.

Sirak bit his lip hard and began to walk.

Before passing Seok-hwan, Sirak whispered quietly to him.

“I shall never forget this day.”

Seok-hwan offered no response and blocked Court Lady Han, who was attempting to follow Sirak.

“His Majesty ordered that he be brought in secret, so do not follow.”

Sirak turned at the voice behind him to see Court Lady Han’s shocked expression.

She looked back and forth between Sirak and Seok-hwan.

“The laws of the palace are strict; how can you do such a thing?”

“Even if you are acting on His Majesty’s orders, you cannot send His Grace alone with a strange man.”

Seok-hwan gave a rare, crooked smile and sneered.

“It seems the palace laws are above the Emperor’s command for you all.”

“However, I am not a person bound by the rules of the court.”

“So if you wish to speak such things before me, go and receive an Imperial decree first.”

Court Lady Han shivered violently with a sense of humiliation.

For a woman of the fifth rank to hear such words from a man without a rank, the insult must have been immense.

Sirak watched the two for a moment before calling out coldly to Seok-hwan.

“You said you were in a hurry; do you have time to dally?”

“Lead the way.”

‘Once I meet the Emperor, I shall soothe him first and then pester him to deal with this damned wretch.’

He figured the man was acting so coldly because they hadn’t seen each other for a few days, but was the Emperor not always weak to his tears and charm?

Was he not the one who held and comforted Sirak even when he harbored suspicions after meeting the gisaeng house proprietress?

Thus, Sirak believed it was still possible to win back his heart.

He believed the man was summoning him in secret because of the chaotic atmosphere in the palace, and that he was calling for him separately because he missed him.

But how foolish that hope turned out to be.

Sirak felt the strength nearly drain from his legs when he realized the place Seok-hwan was guiding him toward was the Jeonokseo.

‘Why would he summon me to such a place?’

Whether it was because of the Minister of Rites or his own foster father, he had a premonition that it would not be good news.

While walking behind Seok-hwan on trembling legs, Sirak pressed his palm firmly against his pounding chest.

His heart beat as though it were in direct contact with his palm.

He felt as if it might shatter his ribs and burst out.

Sirak struggled to manage his breathing, which had begun to quicken with tension, as he entered the mouth of the Jeonokseo.

The moment the door opened, the stench of filth washed over him, causing his face to crumple involuntarily.

Covering his nose with a sleeve, he barely managed to step forward, and the sight of the cells near the entrance reminded him of a portrait of hell.

Women and men, children and adults—and even the elderly.

Those packed into spaces narrower than his own bedroom were covered in patches of blood, to say nothing of their grimy appearances.

Many bore bruises from being beaten.

There were those among them who appeared to have been tortured.

Despite their dying faces, they had no place to lie comfortably and simply closed their eyes while leaning against the wooden bars.

Their complexions were as black as death; had it not been for their lips twitching with every breath, they would have been taken for corpses.

It was a scene so wretched that even Sirak, who had personally experienced war, found it difficult to look upon properly.

The people gathered there like livestock seemed to be crushing the very filth they had excreted.

As he drew closer, the intensifying smell of waste made him feel as though he might retch.

While walking along the path lined with such sights on either side, Sirak completely forgot the plan he’d made earlier.

‘Soothe the Emperor?’

‘How was he to soothe a man who would personally show him such a hellscape?’

Sirak fell into despair, realizing that the Emperor was truly enraged with him.

‘How cruel you are.’

‘How could you summon me to such a place after once holding me in your arms?’

Sirak looked at the back of Seok-hwan’s head as the man led the way indifferently.

He wanted to turn around and run out right this instant.

However, he couldn’t do so because of the Imperial Guards who had begun to follow behind him the moment the Jeonokseo doors opened.

If there was any mercy, it was that the smell lessened once they entered the deeper parts of the prison.

Perhaps because heavy iron doors blocked the path at intervals, the stench from the entrance could not reach this far.

However, before he had even taken ten steps, he found himself thinking that smelling the filth would have been better.

The moans and screams of dying people drifted through the gaps of the firmly closed doors.

Sounds of people screaming in agony echoed along the damp stone walls, enough to make one’s blood run cold.

It was not just one or two people shouting.

With every echo of a pain-filled scream, Sirak’s steps grew slower.

Just as his legs began to give way from terror and he reached a point where he could no longer walk on his own, Seok-hwan stopped before a door.

“Enter. His Majesty is waiting.”

Creeeeeak.

The door opened with a bone-chilling metallic screech.

Through the gap in the door, the first thing he noticed was the Emperor sitting in a magnificent chair that looked entirely out of place in a dungeon.

But what caught Sirak’s attention even more was the figure of a man hanging from the wall, his originally grey hair now a matted, black mess.

Recognizing him immediately as the Minister of Rites, Sirak collapsed onto the floor.

He had heard the man had confessed obediently, but was that not the case?

The spots where the Minister’s eyes should have been were cauterized, covered in a mess of blood, pus, and discharge.

Sirak covered his wide-open mouth with his sleeve and let out a stifled groan.

The Emperor watched Sirak for a moment and then gestured toward the rear.

Sirak violently pushed away Seok-hwan’s hand as the man reached out to touch him.

Then he looked up at the Emperor with a resentful gaze.

“Your servant asks Your Majesty: why have you summoned me to such a place?”

Even while knowing he had to act fragile to survive, his teeth ground together of their own accord.

The Emperor, looking down at the shivering Sirak with indifferent eyes, replied while propping his chin on his hand.

“I summoned you so that you might share a final farewell, as I thought you might be curious about your blood relative’s fate.”

Sirak swallowed hard, meeting the Emperor’s gaze as the man scanned him intently.

‘So the Emperor found out after all.’

While the two watched each other in silence, a rough cough burst from Yun Hyeon-pyeong, who was hanging from the wall.

After spitting out a cough that sounded like he was vomiting blood, he interjected in a voice that was barely holding onto life.

“I… told you… it is a mis… understanding…”

“The Consort’s, cough, biological father is… the former Grand Preceptor, Lord O…”

Even as he spoke, he continued to hack and cough.

As the exertion of coughing put strain on his body, yellow discharge flowed from the holes where his eyes once were.

Sirak could not bring himself to look at him properly.

It was partly due to the hideous sight, but mostly because he feared the Emperor would find some pretext to catch him.

The Emperor merely snorted at Yun Hyeon-pyeong’s words.

Then he turned his question to Sirak.

“Is what that man says the truth?”

Sirak bowed his head toward him and answered.

Every word was as cautious as walking on thin ice.

His voice trembled on its own, without any need for him to fake it.

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