Late in the afternoon at White Virtue Clan, a secret meeting was held with only the high-ranking members in attendance. Two seats should have remained empty—one belonged to Dan Woo-Hyo, the White Virtue Clan's Grandmaster, who had been missing for ten years. The other belonged to Peng, the leader of the Flight Winged Group, who had vanished alongside him, leaving no trace.
However, unlike before, an additional figure now occupied a seat of prominence—none other than Seol Bu-yong.
"The next search party shall be sent to Blue Sea and beyond, to Xinjiang."
The one who spoke first was seated comfortably in the chair that should have belonged to Peng, as if it had always been hers. While about half of those present seemed to agree with her, none voiced their approval outright. The rest frowned in discontent but remained silent all the same.
As the room fell into uneasy silence, a woman seated across from Seol Bu-yong finally spoke.
"I oppose this."
The martial artist who spoke carried an intent as sharp as a drawn sword. She was Namgoong Ji-yak, disciple of the previous grandmaster, Dan Baek-hoon, and the junior disciple of Dan Woo-Hyo.
As she spoke, the room fell silent.
"It has already been ten years." Namgoong Ji-yak coldly stated.
Perhaps she felt she had gained the room's attention because she pressed on.
"It's time to let go."
It was something no one could say lightly. At the same time, it was something only Namgoong Ji-yak could say.
With Dan Woo-Hyo missing, Namgoong Ji-yak was practically the sole heir of the White Virtue Clan. Naturally, the weight of her words carried far more authority than anyone else's.
"Give up..."
Despite the fierce opposition, Seol Bu-yong remained unbothered. She had been the one pushing for search parties to be dispatched for the past ten years, yet she didn't seem like a mother desperate over her son's disappearance.
"Is White Virtue Clan truly so willing to give up on its master this easily?"
"How can you call it easy when we've poured everything into the search for over ten years? We spared no effort, no resources, yet we haven't found a single trace of him."
Ji-yak shot back sharply. She had loyalty to her senior, but she believed they had done all they could.
She respected Dan Woo-hyo as a senior. Although she secretly considered him a rival, that did not mean she was pleased about his disappearance. When she first heard the news, she had immediately left to search for him everywhere.
Yet whether he had vanished into the sky or been swallowed by the earth, all they knew was that he had last headed toward Gansu. As the years passed, disappointment piled up, turning into despair—until it finally became resignation.
Namgoong Ji-yak, someone who never looked back, was now ready to end the search and move forward.
However, not everyone shared Ji-yak's thoughts. Among them, the biggest obstacle was right in front of her: Seol Bu-yong.
Ji-yak had come to White Virtue Clan as a child, but by then, Seol Bu-yong had already secluded herself in her residence after giving birth to Dan Woo-Hyo. Because of this, Ji-yak's impression of her never went beyond seeing her as his master's wife.
But after her son went missing, Seol Bu-yong broke her isolation and naturally began wielding authority over White Virtue Clan.
At first, Ji-yak had thought of her as a useful ally. She had played a significant role in bypassing the complex procedures and unnecessary formalities involved in searching for her senior. She had an uncanny ability to pinpoint loopholes hidden within the rules and traditions.
There were even rumors that in her youth, she had been involved in the imperial succession struggle and was once considered a strong candidate for the next emperor. Her administrative skills were just as impressive as those stories suggested. Every time a search party was sent out and returned with new information, her capabilities proved invaluable in organizing the findings and redeploying forces.
However, ten years had now passed. As everyone grew weary, Seol Bu-yong did not bend her will. If this were an ordinary household, her perseverance might have been praised and recorded in history as a noble tale.
But Ji-yak and Seol Bu-yong belonged to White Virtue Clan.
To Ji-yak, it was clear as day that this great martial sect, which stood at the pinnacle of the Righteous Path, was beginning to falter.
It had endured far too long without its rightful master.
Internally, the cohesion among members was weakening, and externally, alliances were starting to falter. Even various minor unorthodox factions were gathering and establishing their influence within White Virtue Clan's territory.
Prominent martial families of Murim had been sending marriage proposals to Namgoong Ji-yak one after another. With Dan Woo-Hyo gone, she was the strongest candidate to become the next White Virtue Clan's Grandmaster, and they sought to secure a position by her side.
Some might even be aiming to push her aside and take the Grandmaster's seat for themselves.
With so many things weighing on her mind, what unsettled Ji-yak the most was the enigmatic Seol Bu-yong.
As the wife of the previous Grandmaster and the mother of the current Grandmaster, Dan Woo-hyo, who was missing, Seol Bu-yong was not someone to be dismissed lightly.
Moreover, most of the martial artists occupying important positions within White Virtue Clan were those who had played major roles in the war against the Blood Cult. This also meant they were indebted to Princess Yeongrin, Seol Bu-yong, who had supported them at the time.
Seol Bu-yong's political acumen far surpassed Ji-yak's expectations, not just her administrative skills.
Even when she had barely emerged from seclusion, people had welcomed her with open arms. Now, she had taken root so deeply that removing her was nearly impossible.
Besides, all of them were part of the Righteous Path. What member of the orthodox sects would dare stand in the way of a mother searching for her son? Doing so would go completely against their sense of justice and chivalry.
However, ten years was not a trivial matter. Even within White Virtue Clan's leadership, opinions were beginning to divide.
The conflict between those insisting on continuing the search, led by Seol Bu-yong, and those following Namgoong Ji-yak, who believed further searching was pointless, had been ongoing for years.
After repeated discussions, a compromise was proposed—to continue searching for Dan Woo-Hyo while appointing a new Grandmaster to fill his absence. However, Seol Bu-yong refused to accept this.
Ji-yak repeatedly chose to withdraw from confrontations with her. As a disciple of Dan Baek-hoon, it felt inappropriate for her to oppose Seol Bu-yong, who was her master's wife.
At least, that was how she justified her patience, enduring it time and time again—for ten whole years.
Yet, Seol Bu-yong refused to give up on either Dan Woo-Hyo or his position.
"I'm not giving up on finding my senior brother. I'm simply saying that it's time to make a decision for White Virtue Clan. How much longer must we leave the Grandmaster's seat empty?"
At Ji-yak's words, Seol Bu-yong's eyes narrowed. She remained silent for a moment before slightly parting her lips.
"…You're right. As Namgoong Ji-yak says, appointing a new Grandmaster might be a solution."
Finally!
Ji-yak silently cheered in relief. But it was still far too early to celebrate.
"However, there's no guarantee that the next Grandmaster won't go missing as well. In that case, the search costs would double."
Because then, they'd have to search for two people. Seol Bu-yong's added remark carried a heavy implication.
"Is that a threat?"
Namgoong Ji-yak managed to maintain a polite tone, but the meaning behind her words was precarious.
Right now, she was the most likely candidate for the next Grandmaster. Was Seol Bu-yong saying that if she took the position, she would end up like her predecessor—hidden away somewhere for ten years, completely unreachable?
"Of course not."
Seol Bu-yong lightly covered her mouth with her sleeve as if startled. Every movement was graceful and refined. For someone like Namgoong Ji-yak, a warrior through and through, there was a delicate elegance there that she could never hope to imitate.
Only those who had experienced it could understand the immense power wielded by hands that had never held a sword.
Only those who had experienced it firsthand would understand just how much power lay behind those hands—hands that had likely never gripped a sword before.
Namgoong Ji-yak, who had tried and failed multiple times to halt the search efforts, furrowed her brows deeply.
She had learned from her master that there are all kinds of powers in the world beyond martial arts. It would have been nice if he had given her a heads-up that Seol Bu-yong, his wife, was a prime example of that…
The meeting ultimately concluded with the decision to dispatch additional search parties.
"Oh, and I was thinking of requesting cooperation from the Black Sky Clan. If anyone has a differing opinion, speak now."
"Do you really think they'll help so easily? This is about the Grandmaster's disappearance. They're people of the Demonic Path, they'll likely just laugh at us and refuse to offer proper assistance."
Chu ha-dong, the head of the law enforcement division, spoke with skepticism. He was relatively young among the members of the White Virtue Clan.
"The Black Sky Clan is White Virtue Clan's ally. That hasn't changed since we fought against the Blood Cult together thirty years ago."
Seol Bu-yong dismissed his doubts in an instant. Though she possessed an ageless beauty that seemed untouched by time, the weight of the ties she spoke of was not to be taken lightly.
She wasn't even seated in the Grandmaster's position, yet when she swept her gaze across the room, the gathered masters instinctively bowed their heads before her overwhelming presence.
"That concludes today's meeting. I believe it would be best to send one of the Grandmaster's closest aides…"
Only after finalizing the details of the envoy to be sent to the Black Sky Clan did the meeting finally come to an end.
Namgoong Ji-yak sprang to her feet and followed after Seol Bu-yong, who had already stepped outside. She made no effort to conceal her presence, yet Seol Bu-yong showed no sign of turning back, fully aware that Namgoong Ji-yak was trailing behind.
In the end, Ji-yak was the first to speak.
"Seol... Bu-yong-nim."
She hesitated over the title but managed to utter it. He had originally called her "Madam," but Seol Bu-yong rejected it, saying she had no reason to be addressed that way. When he tried calling her "Lady Seol," she was equally displeased and simply asked to be addressed by name.
However, for Namgoong Ji-yak, who was rather rigid about formalities, calling her master's wife by name felt far too improper.
"Do you have something to say to me?"
Seol Bu-yong's question broke the silence. Ji-yak rolled her words around in her mouth for a moment before finally lifting her head and speaking.
"…I understand that you miss him. But can you think about White Virtue Clan's future? It has been ten years. Internally, we must maintain order; externally, we must guard against those with wicked intentions. Yet White Virtue Clan has remained stagnant for a full decade."
To convince Seol Bu-yong to stop the search, Ji-yak knew she had to persuade her. If one attempt failed, she would confront her a hundred times if necessary.
Seol Bu-yong, once of the imperial family, should understand the importance of efficiency better than anyone. Ji-yak herself had once been unable to let go of her senior disciple.
However, through loss, struggle, and hardship, Ji-yak had grown into an adult.
"Lady Namgoong, you may not believe me easily, but I care about White Virtue Clan's future more than anyone." Seol Bu-yong spoke in a gentle and endlessly patient tone.
"There's no need to repeat the same formalities you used to persuade the other faction leaders."
"I mean it. White Virtue Clan is the legacy of someone dear to me."
"…"
At those words, Ji-yak hesitated. She had never truly considered Seol Bu-yong's feelings—how she had lost not only her husband but also her son.
The animosity that had built over the years wavered ever so slightly.
"Of course, I do not doubt that your intentions for the White Virtue Clan are genuine, Lady Namgoong. We simply have different ways of doing so."
Seol Bu-yong was right. She and Ji-yak were fundamentally different—they saw the world in completely opposite ways and made choices based on entirely separate beliefs.
"If you were to suggest giving up the search for my son, it would raise significant suspicions about you, as the most likely candidate for the next Grandmaster. Yet, your insistence on pushing forward shows how much you care for the White Virtue Clan. It is also the confidence of someone who has never once entertained the thought of using underhanded means to eliminate a rival."
If someone else had said it—or if Seol Bu-yong had said it at another time—she would have thought it was mockery. But in this moment, she felt like she understood what Seol Bu-yong was trying to say.
"…"
"I like you quite a bit. That mindset of yours—where as long as you're confident in yourself, you don't care about the opinions of other people—it reminds me of someone."
Seol Bu-yong smiled, as if she had sensed Ji-yak's inner thoughts. Though her gaze drifted through the air, her eyes gleamed vividly as if she were looking at a living person.
"My son is alive."
She declared it as if she had seen Dan Woo-Hyo with her own eyes.
"How can you be so sure?"
Namgoong Ji-yak swallowed a sigh, realizing the conversation had inevitably circled back to this.
"There's no corpse, is there?"
Seol Bu-yong's voice was chilling, as if it could cut through flesh. The intensity emanating from her was anything but ordinary, causing Ji-yak's heart to sink with unease.
"If anyone intended to make use of his body, I would have heard about it."
It carried a deeper meaning than the words hinting at making the next White Virtue Clan's Grandmaster disappear.
Could it be that Seol Bu-yong had ties to the black market? However, until her son's disappearance, she had remained in seclusion. Even after that, her record remained spotless, with nothing suspicious in her actions.
How could someone like Seol Bu-yong, who had always been so clean and untainted, possibly be involved with the black market?
An organization that sold warriors' corpses—illegal and dangerous—would be secretive. To deal with them, one would have to get involved in shady dealings, where even talking properly required getting one's hands dirty. But listening to Seol Bu-yong now, it felt like she knew everything about the darkest corners of the central plains.
Just as Ji-yak was about to ask what Seol Bu-yong meant, a warm and gentle smile spread across her face. It was so soft and kind that words like blade, death, or blood felt completely out of place coming from that mouth.
For that reason, Ji-yak judged Seol Bu-yong to be a frightening person.
"I too... hope for my senior's return."
Ji-yak managed to stammer out the words.
Seol Bu-yong smiled kindly.
A smile that reminded her of Dan Woo-Hyo, who was no longer here.
***
Woo sat up on the bed. As he slowly blinked, the hazy world around him gradually came into focus.
His body felt sluggish, an unusual sensation. Wandering around late at night was one thing, but after being tormented by Solitary Poison and nearly strangled, it wouldn't have been surprising if he had collapsed on the spot.
His gaze drifted toward the window, settling on the withered peony and the golden wound salve placed beside it. Staring at them for a moment, Woo absentmindedly touched his neck.
The spot where Kang-oh's hand had been still carried a lingering sensation, as if a brand had been left there. He had a feeling it wouldn't be easy to forget that cautious yet worried touch.
A single blanket, a withered flower, and a jar of golden wound salve.
He had always believed he could leave without hesitation, without anything holding him back—but before he knew it, he had things he couldn't simply walk away from.
Kang-oh, who remembered nothing, kept offering him things for reasons Woo couldn't fathom. At the same time, he found himself wondering just how much weight his own kindness must have carried for that young boy.
"Excuse me."
A voice from outside the door made Woo turn. Si-bi entered, setting the table.
Realizing he would be having another meal with Kang-oh, just like yesterday, Woo's eyes trembled slightly.
He had wished so desperately to avoid facing Kang-oh after their awkward parting, but the man walked into his room as if nothing had happened, his expression showing no memory of the previous night.
Even though they met under the morning sun rather than the moonlight, Woo's heart sank the moment their eyes met.
"Good morning."
Perhaps noticing Woo's silence, Kang-oh greeted him first. Woo lowered his head in response.
"Did you have a peaceful night?"
Kang-oh swallowed a bitter smile at the sight of Woo acting as if nothing had happened the night before. He hadn't expected anything, yet he still found himself disappointed.
As he observed Woo closely, Kang-oh noticed that his complexion was redder than usual.
"You have a fever," he murmured.
Woo flinched. He had felt unwell since waking up, but now he had been found out.
Though he detected a faint sense of resistance, Kang-oh wasn't the type to back off because of it.
"Go to the Medical Hall."
He also figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to get Woo's throat properly checked while he was at it.
At her master's command, the servant standing furthest back bowed and stepped away. She quickly made her way to the Medical Hall, a place she had been visiting quite often lately.
The Medical Hall was busier than usual, with more patients than on a typical day. This was because, over the past few days, there had been a sparring match among warriors who had been in Black Sky Clan for less than three months.
Some had broken noses, others had splints on their arms or legs, and a few had their heads wrapped in thick bandages.
One physician had been tending to the wounded since morning.
As the servant from Hee-do Won appeared, the physician, having just finished treating the last patient, approached her.
"You're a servant from Hee-do Won. What brings you here?"
The servant, dressed in pale green, bowed politely before responding.
"Master's guest has a fever and he urgently requested that you come at once."
"Let me gather what I need, and I'll be there shortly."
"I will wait."
As the physician gathered medicinal herbs and other supplies before stepping out of the Medical Hall, the previously quiet room suddenly filled with murmurs. It was reminiscent of the hum of bees' wings.
"Did you hear that?"
"Of course."
The new recruits receiving treatment exchanged hushed whispers.
"The last physician who was called over said he was just a shabby-looking man."
"How did the Third Disciple know he had a fever this morning?"
"Could it be... that they spent the night together...?"
One of them muttered with a sly expression. His arm was wrapped in a splint, and though he was speaking to himself, the others eagerly chimed in.
Lately, the Third Disciple and his guest had become one of the most popular topics of conversation. Several factors contributed to this.
First, Hee-do Won was a highly significant place within the Black Sky Clan. It was where Jin-rang's most cherished disciple resided. Normally, with the Third Disciple frequently away from the clan, there wouldn't be much attention on him—but this time was different.
The infamous Kang-oh, who usually sent out challenges to the renowned warriors of the martial world and left before the ink on his invitations had even dried, was now staying put in Hee-do Won. Every day, he visited the Honamgak to teach, leading to speculation that the Third Disciple had gained some insights from his duels and was taking time to organize them. Some whispered that he was preparing himself to compete for the position of Grandmaster of Black Sky Clan.
Then, the arrival of Hee-do Won's first guest added fuel to the fire. Rumors spread that the real reason the Third Disciple wasn't leaving the Black Sky Clan was because of this guest. Those who had assumed the guest would be a woman were surprised to find out that the guest was, in fact, a man.
What was even more shocking was that this man was a servant.
Like blacksmiths hammering away at freshly heated iron, people couldn't stop gossiping about this unexpected revelation.
That man must have saved the Third Disciple's life… The servant turned out to be a hidden expert, brought along for a sparring match… The Third Disciple just has unusual tastes… And so on.
Some of the rumors were ridiculous and spread purely for entertainment, while others were so crude that no one would dare voice them in front of those involved.
"Enough. You shouldn't say things like that so carelessly."
"Did I make something up? I just said it's a possibility."
The man who had suggested that the Third Disciple and his servant might have shared a bed grumbled in response to someone's cautious warning.
"That servant is lucky. As long as he shuts his eyes and endures at night, he gets to feast on all the delicacies of Hee-do Won and wear silk robes."
"You're going too far."
The man, who was once again asked to restrain himself, frowned deeply.
"Come on, can't I even make a joke?"
"Right? He's going too far."
A light yet undeniably imposing voice cut through the murmuring, casting a chilling silence over the warriors gathered in the Medical Hall. Slowly, they turned their heads toward the entrance.
A man stood there, watching them with a bright, amused smile.
It was Yeom Seung-han, the Second Disciple of the Black Sky Clan.
"S-Second Disciple!"
"That's right. At least your eyes are working properly."
A man, built like a rugged warrior, strode inside with long strides..
The person on the bed, who had only his arm in a splint but otherwise had no injuries to his legs, sprang up and dropped to his knees.
"I-I have committed an unforgivable sin!"
The First Disciple was known for his strict nature—he never hesitated to punish. He had never been excessively cruel, but expecting leniency from him was difficult. The Third Disciple, on the other hand, rarely handed out punishments. He seldom stayed in Black Sky Clan and had little interaction with others. However, if someone did fall out of his favor, they were dealt with for good—just like that officer who took a bribe, got caught by the Third Disciple, and then disappeared without a trace.
But among the three disciples of the Grandmaster of Black Sky Clan, the one person no one could afford to offend was the Second Disciple, Yeom Seung-han.
"Why? You said it was a joke, didn't you?"
His voice was light and casual, but the man who heard it turned pale and lowered his head.
"I-I am just an ignorant fool who lost my sense of judgment for a moment. P-please punish me."
"That goes without saying."
Yeom Seung-han replied indifferently, grabbing the man's face and turning it from side to side.
"I was just wondering… your eyes seem to be working fine, but your tongue doesn't seem to be in the best condition."
"...!"
"Hey, bring me a knife."
Yeom Seung-han, still holding the man's face in place, gestured toward the man who had been trying to stop him. He was pointing at a small knife used by physicians to prepare medicinal herbs.
While it was kept sharp for medical purposes, it was hardly suitable for cutting out a person's tongue. Nevertheless, Yeom Seung-han's insistence on bringing it was clearly meant to inflict pain on this warrior and serve as a lesson.
The man who had been pleading on his comrade's behalf trembled as he brought the knife over. Yeom Seung-han took it from him.
"Now, let's take a look."
The Second Disciple murmured as he grabbed the head of the man who had dared to wag his tongue recklessly. He was only holding him with one hand, but the man couldn't move at all—let alone escape.
Tears streamed down his face as the terror of the pain that was about to come overwhelmed him.
"Open your mouth. If you don't, I'll break your jaw myself so you'll never be able to close it again."
Yeom Seung-han, who was widely known for his easygoing nature, spoke in a tone so cold that any last hope for mercy disappeared.
"Ugh, ugh..."
The cold touch of the blade against his tongue made him sob. The faces of his comrades twisted in horror as they watched—these were the same people who had once sat together in groups, twisting rumors to their liking.
Terror spread through the room as they realized that if the Second Disciple had arrived just a little sooner or later, that very blade might have torn through their own mouths.
"Hmm, seeing it in person is indeed a bit grotesque," Yeom Seung-han muttered nonchalantly. He took a step back as if he might set the knife down.
"...!"
The man who had been silently praying to the heavens in relief didn't even have the chance to scream when pain suddenly shot through him.
The knife, which had not fully withdrawn, had sliced the tip of his tongue in half, resembling a snake's forked tongue.
"Ugh, ugh..."
A sound that could have been either a sob or a groan—perhaps both—spilled from the man's throat. The moment the Second Disciple let go, he collapsed to the ground, trembling uncontrollably. Blood seeped from the corners of his mouth.
"Anyone else have something to say about our youngest disciple?"
Yeom Seung-han, holding the blood-stained knife, asked the question. Though his lips curved into a faint smile, no one in the Medical Hall dared to lift their heads and meet the Second Disciple's gaze.
He dropped the knife next to the sobbing man on the floor and muttered, "You've ruined my mood this morning."
Everyone kept their heads down as the Second Disciple, having demonstrated his precision by slicing off only the tip of a tongue with a blade meant for cutting herbs rather than flesh, spoke again.
"Listen closely. If I hear any more baseless rumors about the Black Sky Clan's Third Disciple coming from your mouths, I won't let it slide as easily next time."
"Understood!"
Yeom Seung-han turned and strode out of the Medical Hall, his brow deeply furrowed.
"We're heading to Hee-do Won."
"Yes, sir."
The subordinate waiting outside lowered his head and followed closely behind. Seeing Yeom Seung-han leave with such a furious expression, he quickly deduced that something had gone wrong.
Though the Second Disciple always wore an easygoing smile, he was the most ruthless among his fellow disciples.
Jin-rang had taken his first disciple out of pity. His decision to accept Yeom Seung-han as his second was due to a friend's request.
Originally, Yeom Seung-han was part of the Heavenly Demon Cult, which had collapsed during the Blood Cult Rebellion. His grandfather was a Supreme Elder of the Demonic Cult, and his father had once been considered a potential successor to the aging cult leader. The Blood Cult Rebellion began as an attack on the Heavenly Demon Cult. This fanatical group had taken root within the cult, biding its time until its influence grew strong enough.
Yeom Seung-han's family fought against the Blood Cultists and perished. Only Seung-han, who was still a child at the time, was secretly taken away. He was entrusted to the Blood Shadow Patriarch of the Sama Clan, who had ties to his grandfather and took him in. The problem was that the Blood Cult Rebellion didn't stop at Xinjiang—it spread throughout the entirety of the Central Plains.
Even Sama Clan couldn't escape their grasp. As the Blood Shadow Patriarch, Geum Jeok-yo, lay dying at the hands of the Blood Cult, he entrusted Seung-han, the grandson of the Heavenly Demon Cult's Supreme Elder, to Ye Jin-rang. Honoring the request of his fallen friend, Ye Jin-rang accepted Seung-han as his second disciple—but kept his true identity a secret.
Thus, Yeom Seung-han was officially registered as the son of a well-off family under Ye Jin-rang's command.
Had Seung-han's lineage been revealed, Ye Jin-rang could have more easily gathered the Black Sky Clan's forces. With the cult leader dead and no heir left, taking in the Supreme Elder's grandson as a disciple would have been the perfect excuse to gather the scattered remnants of the Heavenly Demon Cult.
However, Ye Jin-rang wanted the boy—who had endured a cruel childhood—to live his own life. There had already been significant friction when he took Mo Yong-yu-woon, a noble scion of the Righteous Path, as his first disciple. To prevent Seung-han from suffering the same struggles, he took measures to protect him.
As a child, Seung-han had resented Jin-rang for it. But now, he was deeply grateful to his master.
A disciple is often seen as the property of their master, so Jin-rang had full control over how he used him. However, the Grandmaster of Black Sky Clan had endured hardship to avoid using Seung-han.
Seung-han liked his master and everything he had built in Black Sky Clan. Though a bit irritable, he admired the First Disciple for doing his best to uphold his position. He also liked the youngest disciple, who, despite his blunt nature, worked hard to maintain harmony among them. Their relationships were somewhat precarious, but to Seung-han, they were no different from family.
And to protect them, he would not hesitate to reveal the claws he had kept hidden.
So it was only natural that he found the new warrior from the Medical Hall displeasing when he1 tried to throw filth at Kang-oh.
Even as Hee-do Won drew closer into view, Yeom Seung-han's expression remained rigid. Then, through his sharp gaze, he caught sight of a physician stepping out of Hee-do Won.
"Greetings, Second Disciple."
"Are you a physician from the Medical Hall?"
"Yes."
As the physician stepped forward and bowed, Yeom Seung-han came to an abrupt stop and asked,
"What brings you to Hee-do Won? Is the youngest disciple unwell?"
"The Third Disciple is fine. However, the guest at Hee-do Won seems to have come down with a slight fever…"
"Slight fever?"
The Second Disciple's eyelid twitched. He had just dealt with the ones in the Medical Hall spreading nonsense and came here to ask his junior disciple about it directly.
Since he knew well how indifferent Kang-oh was to others, there was a high chance it was just a baseless rumor. At least, that's what he thought as he made his way over… Only to find out that his junior disciple had summoned a physician over something as trivial as a slight fever.
"Yes. I've prescribed some medicine, so he should be fine soon."
"Got it. You're dismissed."
Yeom Seung-han waved his hand dismissively. The physician would probably be horrified to return to the Medical Hall and find a patient with half their tongue cut off, but he wasn't the type to concern himself with that.
Beyond the wall of Hee-do Won, a wretched-looking man was being helped outside by Kang-oh.
About to step in, the Second Disciple briefly paused and observed the so-called 'guest.'
The man was neither handsome nor dressed in finery, and his movements were filled with hesitation. There was a cautiousness in his gaze as he looked at Kang Oh, but that was all—there was nothing particularly noteworthy about him.
To think they'd link someone like that with the Black Sky Clan's Third Disciple—Truly, those who loved spreading those rumors were so despicable that even cutting out their tongues wouldn't be enough.
For no particular reason, Seunghan, who had been feeling irritated since the morning, stopped as he was about to turn away. He noticed the man, whom he had heard was a servant, subtly pulling away from Kang Oh's support. The servant, perhaps intending to assert he could walk on his own, took a few quick steps ahead. But the youngest disciple followed him—ready to catch him if he stumbled.
It was strange. To be more specific, it was Kang-oh's actions that were strange.
Wasn't this like someone desperately clinging to someone who had rejected them? The way he moved cautiously, as if treating something precious. It wasn't a servant doing this, but a disciple.
For Seung-han, who remembered how the youngest disciple would take a step back, feeling awkward whenever their master showered Kang-oh with affection, this scene felt entirely unfamiliar.
Although Kang-oh let go calmly, Seung-han could tell he was still watching anxiously from a distance. At the end of Kang Oh's gaze was that pitiful man.
'Really?'
Seung-han found himself covering his mouth in disbelief.
They say there's no wave without wind, but since this involved Kang-oh, Yet what he was seeing now made him feel a bit more certain, confirming at least part of the rumors he had heard in the Medical Hall were true.
Being someone with a sharp instinct like an animal, Seunghan couldn't doubt what his eyes were showing him. The youngest disciple he knew wasn't someone who could change easily.
If such a person had changed, there must have been a reason for it.
Someone who viewed the world with an emotionless gaze was focused on just one person.
With only a brief moment of observation, it was impossible to discern the emotions or origins behind that gaze. However, knowing how carefully Ye Kang-oh usually acts, it was hard to believe that this change was merely the result of a fleeting whim.
'A storm is coming…'
Seung-han frowned as he turned away.
Given how things were unfolding, it was only natural that, regardless of others, his master would become uncomfortable with the situation, and the eldest disciple, Mo yong Yu-woon, would likely seize the opportunity to plot something. The balance that had been maintained by the youngest disciple wandering outside while pretending not to notice the underlying issues was now at risk of being disrupted.
His subordinate swallowed his concerns tightly when he saw the master, who had acted like a gust of wind at Hee-do Won, retreating without a word.
When someone like Seung-han, who typically acted on his thoughts immediately, hesitated, there was always a significant reason behind it. Fortunately, Seok-ah was a skilled navigator, adept at steering his ship through rough waters without capsizing. So, even someone like him, lacking insight, could at least follow behind and stay alive.
"Seok-ah."
It was only after leaving Hee-do Won that Seung-han spoke, calling for his subordinate.
"Yes?"
"I need you to keep your ears open regarding matters at Hee-do Won from now on. Can you do that?"
"I will do my best."
"Good. Make sure to bring even unfiltered rumors directly to me."
The Second Disciple's gaze, which seemed to gauge not just the present but perhaps the future beyond, grew deep and contemplative.
"Understood."