The Throne of Betrayal
Chapter 4: The Throne of Betrayal (Ji-han's POV)
For twenty years, I played the fool.
The weak, incompetent sect leader. The puppet sitting on the throne, controlled by the elders like a child on strings. I let them sneer at me. I let them dictate my every move.
Because I was waiting.
And now—he had finally returned.
My brother.
The one they thought they had erased.
The moment he stepped into the grand hall, I knew. Everything was about to change.
---
The Moment He Walked In
The air shifted the moment he entered.
I felt it before I saw him—the way the temperature dropped, the way the room suddenly felt too small to contain his presence. The elders, who moments ago had been whispering amongst themselves, fell silent.
Then he stepped forward.
His long, braided white hair swayed gently with each movement. His black and gold robe, embroidered with ancient markings, seemed untouched by the dirt and blood of the battlefield outside.
And his eyes…
Cold. Piercing. Golden.
Not a single ounce of emotion flickered in them as he looked at us. Looked at them.
And in that instant, I knew—the elders were afraid.
They would never admit it. Not yet.
But their stiffened shoulders, their trembling fingers, the way some of them refused to meet his gaze—it told me everything.
They remember what they did.
And now, their past had come knocking.
---
The Elders Try to Deny Him
Elder Gwan was the first to find his voice, though it sounded weaker than usual.
"You return after twenty years and expect us to kneel?"
I almost laughed.
Kneel? He hadn't even spoken yet, and they were already panicking.
The silence stretched. My brother didn't answer immediately. He simply… stood there. Watching. Waiting.
And the weight of his gaze alone made the elders shift in discomfort.
Then Elder Hwan, ever the fool, leaned forward and said, "Enough theatrics. We don't even know who you are."
A bold move. A stupid one.
I glanced at Haneul. His expression didn't change.
Then—the air in the room grew heavier.
Not just metaphorically. Physically.
The very space around us trembled. The lower-ranked officials gripped their chests, struggling to breathe. Some clutched the armrests of their seats, their bodies locking up as if invisible chains had wrapped around them.
"Your bodies recognize me," he said, voice as calm as ever, "even if your minds refuse to."
A simple statement.
And yet—I saw Elder Gwan's fingers twitch against the armrest.
---
The Challenge
The silence was unbearable.
Then, laughter.
Elder Sun, the sect's combat instructor, stood from his seat. Unlike the others, he wasn't afraid.
Or rather, he was too arrogant to be.
"You may scare the weak," he said, rolling his shoulders, "but fear does not make you strong."
He turned to me, as if waiting for my approval. I smiled.
That seemed to encourage him. He stepped forward, looking my brother up and down.
"You were a runt back then," he continued. "An insect we should have crushed long ago."
Silence.
Then he sneered, cracking his knuckles. "If you want to call yourself one of us… then fight me."
I looked at Haneul.
His expression hadn't changed.
But I noticed—his fingertips twitched slightly.
How unfortunate.
For Elder Sun.
---
The First Strike
Before anyone could speak—Elder Sun moved.
His Qi surged, his robes billowing as he dashed forward, fist drawn back.
Haneul stood still.
I expected him to dodge, to counter, to do something.
But instead, he simply… vanished.
Not in a flash of speed. Not with a burst of energy.
He was just gone.
Elder Sun's fist hit nothing.
His eyes widened—then his ribs collapsed inward.
CRACK.
His body was sent flying.
He crashed into the stone pillars, dust and debris exploding around him. Some of the disciples screamed.
I leaned back, resting my chin against my fist. Interesting.
---
The Desperation
Elder Sun groaned, pushing himself up from the rubble. Blood dripped from his lips, but his arrogance hadn't left him.
"You…" he coughed. "You think this means anything?"
Haneul said nothing.
Elder Sun's Qi surged again, this time with killing intent. His entire body glowed white, the energy wrapping around him like a dragon's form.
I recognized this technique.
Dragon Crushing Fist.
A move strong enough to turn mountains into dust.
He shot forward.
And once again—it never landed.
Haneul's fingers caught his wrist.
And crushed it.
CRACK.
Elder Sun's scream echoed through the hall.
Then—Haneul moved.
A single elbow strike to the chest.
BOOM!
Elder Sun's body was launched into the ceiling, his blood splattering across the floor. He crashed down moments later, motionless.
The room was dead silent.
---
The Realization
I turned my gaze toward the other elders.
They were terrified.
This wasn't the weak child they had cast away.
This wasn't even a mere martial artist.
This was something else entirely.
My brother turned to look at me. Our eyes met.
I smirked.
"Well… it seems our dear brother has grown up."
No one responded.
Because, in that moment, the elders finally realized the truth.
They had spent twenty years controlling me.
But they had never been in control.
And now—they had lost everything.
---
Ending Hook:
Ji-han's POV adds depth—he's been watching, waiting, and enjoying the elders' downfall.
Elder Sun is destroyed—brutal, effortless, terrifying.
The elders now understand—they are powerless.
Ji-han's full reveal—he was never a puppet. He was always waiting.