Chapter 18: Guts

                                    

                                          

"There ye are," Chan welcomed Hongjoong back as he opened the door to his bar and locked it back up with Seonghwa. Hongjoong entered. "I am glad you are okay," he said softly to Seonghwa. We were all worried for you."
"I appreciate the concern," Seonghwa bowed, causing Chan to bow back in surprise awkwardly. "Your worry shall turn into blessings. I am Seonghwa, Heir to the Elven Kingdom. It is a pleasure to meet you," Seonghwa then held out his hand for Chan to shake. 
If Chan hadn't possessed the insight to discern otherwise, the impression would undeniably have crossed his mind that Seonghwa was deliberately attempting to overshadow him. There was a marked change in Seonghwa's stature; he seemed to tower even taller than previously, casting an imposing figure. The firmness of his handshake bordered on excessive as if he sought to assert dominance through sheer physicality. And then there was the intensity of Seonghwa's gaze, a penetrating stare that seemed to bore into Chan's very being, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable despite his attempt at a nervous smile.
"Chan, nice to meet ya."
"I know," Seonghwa gave him a stiff smile before practically pushing his hand away. "But thank you for offering to help me." 
"No...problem," Chan held his hand to his chest and moved out of the way. 
"Don' be scared of 'em," Hongjoong said, pulling Seonghwa by his waist and gently putting him behind him. "Bunny is nothin' but a sweetheart."
"Right," Chan stretched his mouth into an awkward smile as Seonghwa continued to give him a slight glare. "Well, come on in... the man is over there," he pointed toward San.
"Seonghwa," San smiled, still holding a blade to the man's neck as he sat on a chair. "Ye healed, mate!"
"How..." The man's eyes grew in fear as Seonghwa slowly approached his. "There be no way."
"There totally is," Seonghwa said, his countenance a portrait of stoic determination. He strode purposefully toward the man who had dared to lay hands upon him. Each movement was a masterclass in poise and grace. His head held high, chin parallel to the ground, exuding an air of unshakable confidence. Despite the stains of violence marring his attire, his bearing remained regal, as though he were clad in the finest silks money could buy.
He seemed to glide across the ground with each step, his gait a fluid dance of controlled power. His arms, folded with a controlled elegance over his waist, bespoke both restraint and readiness. Once pristine, the fabric of his clothing now bore the evidence of his recent altercation – streaks of crimson mingling with the grime of the streets.
Yet, amidst the disarray, there was a certain allure to his presence. His once meticulously braided hair cascaded freely around his shoulders, a tangled veil of silvery strands that whispered of forgotten elegance. The icy hue of his locks, dulled by the dirt and blood that now marred them, lent an otherworldly quality to his appearance.
As he drew nearer, Seonghwa raised a hand to brush aside the tangled curtain of hair, revealing the striking feature hidden beneath. His fingers deftly tucked a lock behind his ear, unveiling the slender, pointed tip that marked him as something more than human – a creature of myth and legend, walking amongst mortals with an ethereal grace that left onlookers spellbound.
The man gasped as his eyes trembled. He looked at the crew, back to Seonghwa, before switching his glances back and forth. "I knew ye weren't no ordinary man, but this be impossible."