“I shall assign you the White Dragon Division.”

“!”

Seop Mugwang was taken aback.

The White Dragon Division was the sword corps that Namgoong Mucheon had, not long ago, declared he would take with him to Mount Hua.

After the execution of the division leaders of the Red Dragon, Blue Dragon, and Yellow Dragon Divisions following the incident at Suro Stronghold, only two divisions remained under the clan’s active command.

“Clan Head, the White Dragon Division is—”

“Even if you object, I will assign them. This is my will, and it shall not be overturned. Take them with you.”

It was Namgoong Mucheon’s command, issued in opposition to the same stubbornness Seop Mugwang had shown just moments before, when he declared he would go no matter who tried to stop him.

Seop Mugwang nodded.

“...Understood. Then, once preparations are complete...”

“Please allow just one more day.”

Both Seop Mugwang and Namgoong Mucheon turned to look at Seolhwa.

The girl stood there with her fists clenched, her expression caught between confusion and suppressed emotion, biting back the words she wished to speak.

“If you must go, then please delay the departure by just one day. I beg you.”

“....”

Though he had intended to depart the moment preparations were finished, Seop Mugwang hesitated to reply.

Truthfully, he would have left the White Dragon Division behind and departed at once, but in the end, he chose to trust the child’s plea.

She was, after all, the one within this clan who knew more about the Blood Demon than anyone else—there must be a reason.

“We shall depart at dawn the day after tomorrow.”

****

As soon as she left Tenhojeon, Seolhwa headed straight to the Medical Hall without pausing to catch her breath.

By the time she arrived, panting from the effort, Choryeon was sorting through newly delivered medicinal herbs and greeted her with a bright smile.

“Oh my, Young Lady! What brings you here?”

Seolhwa strode briskly into the Medical Hall and began pulling open drawers of herbs, rummaging through the ingredients.

Choryeon glanced at Ryeong, who had followed Seolhwa in, as if to ask what was going on, but Ryeong merely shook her head. She did not know either.

For a long while, Seolhwa searched and gathered ingredients into a basket, then moved to Choryeon’s desk and began scribbling something down on a piece of paper.

As the child focused with unwavering concentration, both Choryeon and Ryeong stepped back, silently watching her work.

At last, Seolhwa thrust the basket of herbs and the sheet of paper toward Choryeon.

“These are all the ingredients I know of. It has to be ready by tomorrow evening. Is it possible?”

Choryeon blinked as she took them.

“This is...”

Her eyes widened as she read the writing on the paper placed atop the basket.

“...Young Lady!”

Letting out a short, shocked breath, she turned to Ryeong and asked her to wait outside for a while, then quietly closed the door to the Medical Hall.

She also did not forget to request that no visitors be allowed in for the time being.

Choryeon knelt so her eyes were level with Seolhwa’s.

“Young Lady, I am a physician—not someone who concocts poison. I exist to save lives, not to take them.”

“But you can do it.”

And you are quite talented at it, too. In your previous life, you were even called the Poison Moon.

“Young Lady...”

Choryeon pressed a hand to her forehead and let out a deep sigh.

— Until now, I have helped you because you never tried to harm anyone. Not because I feared revealing my true identity.

She fluttered the sheet of paper in her hand.

“What on earth are you going to use this for? There is no reason you should need such a poison pill...”

“The life of someone you hold dear depends on it.”

“....”

Choryeon froze.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze to Seolhwa. The girl’s face was grave, without even the faintest trace of jest.

“What do you mean...”

“Bipung Division Leader is in danger. He might... he might die.”

“....”

“The person most important to you—it is him, is it not? I swear it. This is not to harm anyone. I need this to save him.”

Flutter. Rustle.

Once more, Choryeon looked down at the paper, this time taking her time to absorb every word written upon it.

The ingredients and method described there began to align in her mind, piece by piece, forming the outline of the final product.

Her hand trembled as she held the sheet.

“...It is not enough. This alone will not suffice.”

“You can figure out the rest, can you not? By tomorrow evening.”

“There is not enough time.”

“That is the limit.”

“...I will try.”

Choryeon began preparing the concoction without delay.

The instructions Seolhwa had given her were, in this lifetime, a method she had never attempted before—but in her past life, as the Poison Moon, she had seen it used to create a poison pill.

She could not recall all the ingredients from her days in the Blood Demon Cult’s Medical Hall, but she had written down everything she remembered seeing used.

Now, it was up to Choryeon to fill in the missing pieces.

‘If it is Choryeon, she will be able to do it.’

No—she would do it.

In her past life, she had infiltrated the Blood Demon Cult to avenge Seop Mugwang and risen to the rank of Poison Moon.

She had been the one who hunted and killed those tied to the Blood Demon, hiding behind the veil of a physician’s smile.

That was who she was.

So she would succeed.

She had to—for her sake, for Seop Mugwang’s sake, and for the sake of the Namgoong Clan.

Click.

Seolhwa stepped out of the Medical Hall and took position in front of the door.

She personally turned away all visitors, ensuring that no one would disturb Choryeon.

Ryeong stood quietly at her side, never leaving.

Night passed. Morning came. And once more, dusk arrived.

At last, the door of the Medical Hall creaked open.

Choryeon, her face pale and drawn after a single sleepless day, staggered out, barely able to stand.

In her hand, she held a medicinal packet.

Seeing it, Seolhwa looked up at her again.

“...It is complete. Barely.”

Seolhwa accepted the packet from Choryeon’s outstretched hand.

It was still warm—so freshly finished that heat radiated through the layers of paper.

She placed it carefully into a pouch small enough to fit in her palm, and turned to go deliver it to Seop Mugwang.

Then she stopped and turned back.

“You did well. Thank you.”

Thank you for truly making it happen.

As she turned again to leave, it was Choryeon who called her back.

“Young Lady!”

“?”

“That pill... it really will save him, right...?”

“...Perhaps.”

Probably not. Honestly, it would be difficult.

That was the answer she reached in her mind—but she could not speak it aloud.

The desperate sincerity in Choryeon’s eyes, after doing everything she could, was too overwhelming for Seolhwa to bring herself to say it.

Tap, tat-tat—

As she left the Medical Hall and made her way toward the Bipung Division Leader’s quarters, Seolhwa silently repeated those words to herself.

“Perhaps...”

That reply had not been meant solely for Choryeon. It was also to reassure herself.

****

Seop Mugwang was in the Bipung Division Leader’s quarters.

Since returning to Namgoong, this was the first time he had chosen to remain there.

Because he so despised being cooped up in an office, the Division Leader’s quarters had long lost their original purpose.

But today, he remained.

He stood before the wall where the wooden identity tags of the Bipung Division members hung.

Clack.

A wooden tag gently struck the board behind it, producing a soft, hollow sound.

It belonged to a fallen member—one who had died before his very eyes.

When they joined the Bipung Division, members were given new identity tags by Namgoong and would hang their old ones here.

It was a pledge to begin anew as one of Namgoong’s secret operatives, and at the same time, it served as a marker in case they perished on a mission and their bodies could not be recovered.

“The Bipung Division takes on the clan’s most dangerous tasks. It is common for its members to die. But not like this. Never like this. Yesterday’s deaths were nothing short of a desecration of our division’s spirit.”

The resolve to face death without hesitation—

That resolve had been turned against the very clan it was meant to protect.

No one in the Bipung Division would have wished to die in such a way.

It trampled upon the very purpose and pride of the division.

Clack.

Seop Mugwang placed the tag down and turned around.

And there stood Seolhwa, silently, holding a packet no larger than her palm.

“Do not go.”

Seop Mugwang let out a short laugh.

“Did you not hear a word I said?”

“You will die.”

“I am the kind of man who can set aside pride, but never belief.”

Even knowing the outcome, he would walk into death.

Seolhwa held the packet out to him—not medicine, but a poison pill in disguise.

“What is this?”

“Take it when you can no longer wield your sword.”

“This is what you asked a day for?”

“Yes.”

Seop Mugwang chuckled under his breath and tucked the packet into his robe.

Then he tousled Seolhwa’s hair.

“Thank you, little one. For your sincerity, I will be sure to return alive.”

Seolhwa lowered her gaze.

Be careful. The ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) words lingered on her tongue.

****

It was the early dawn, still dim with the soft light of morning.

Awakened by a faint sound, Seolhwa rose and opened her door—and found an envelope placed outside.

She picked it up, and a sweet scent drifted up to her nose.

It was the kind of smell that made her mouth water without realizing.

When she opened the envelope, it was filled with skewered candied fruit—tanghulu.

As she rustled through it, something dropped lightly to the floor near her feet.

A small, tightly folded note.

She opened it to find a short message, scribbled hastily:

[“I shall receive the disciple’s bow upon my return. Disciple.”]

Her eyes lingered for a long time on that single word—disciple.

Until now, she had had only one master: the Blood Demon.

No one else had ever called her disciple.

Seop Mugwang was the first.

“....”

She read the brief line over and over again, then carefully folded the note and tucked it into her chest.

And then she inhaled the crisp, clear air of dawn.

Seop Mugwang had gone to face the Blood Demon.

She had not been able to stop him. But she had done everything she could.

What now?

“Let us go to Mount Hua.”

She would go to Mount Hua—and scatter the Blood Demon’s forces.

That was how she would help her master.

With firm steps, Seolhwa began to walk.

****

That afternoon, a messenger arrived at Namgoong from Mount Hua.