“An ally?”

Seolhwa gave a slight nod.

“Since we of the Namgoong Clan are not free to act openly within Mount Hua, we will need someone influential and trustworthy there if we are to receive any help at all.”

“If such a person exists...”

Namgoong Mucheon sank into deep thought.

During his travels through the martial world, there had been several Mount Hua disciples with whom he had formed some connection.

Among them was Nomun, who had visited the main estate not long ago.

‘He is one of the few among Mount Hua’s swordsmen whose skill is at least passable...’

But when he came to the main house, he had harmed Seolhwa.

Though he had later offered an explanation, it was not something a grandfather could easily forgive—that someone had left a mark on his granddaughter.

Setting that man aside—

“There is one person who comes to mind.”

“Who is it?”

“Jade Plum Sword, No Un. The current Sect Leader of Mount Hua.”

Seolhwa’s lips curved ever so slightly.

“Of all the swordsmen I met from the orthodox sects, he was the one who felt most like a true Taoist. He knew how to let things flow, rather than forcing them into place.”

They had first met by chance while pursuing a gang of bandits who were terrorizing common folk. Since then, they had occasionally crossed paths—sharing meals, sparring in friendly duels.

Whenever they spoke, Namgoong Mucheon could not help but acknowledge the depth of No Un’s character.

“Though his swordsmanship may not be the best, his integrity befits the role of Sect Leader more than anyone else’s. If it is Jade Plum Sword, he can be trusted.”

They say good men recognize goodness in others.

And the one friend Namgoong Mucheon had within Mount Hua was No ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ Un.

Fortunately, Seolhwa too believed that No Un was an essential part of resolving the current situation—so his friendly ties with Namgoong Mucheon were a blessing.

However—

“I do not object to seeking the Sect Leader’s help, but there is a problem.”

“A problem?”

“The Sect Leader of Mount Hua... is gravely ill.”

“He is... ill?”

Namgoong Mucheon’s reaction was one of surprise.

Naturally so. Mount Hua had hidden the Sect Leader’s illness even from its disciples—there was no chance such news had reached the Namgoong Clan.

“His body is likely covered in sores, and his energy channels are unstable. I only heard about it in passing while I was at the Blood Demon’s side, so I will need to meet him to understand the exact symptoms.”

“That is why you brought the Head of the Medical Hall.”

Seolhwa nodded.

In truth, Choryeon had intended to follow Seop Mugwang instead.

Upon hearing that he was in danger, she had begun packing her belongings the moment she finished preparing the poison pill—but Seolhwa had stopped her.

Seolhwa had persuaded her: that going along would only be a burden, and that helping Mount Hua would ultimately mean helping Seop Mugwang.

“Is Jade Plum Sword’s illness also the work of those fiends?”

Namgoong Mucheon asked, his voice low.

Seolhwa shook her head.

“I do not think so. At least, I believe it is not.”

From what Seolhwa understood, the Sect Leader’s symptoms did not appear to be related to the Blood Demon Cult.

‘In fact...’

If it had been their doing, they would have used hypnosis to make the Sect Leader slaughter his own disciples.

A Sect Leader of Mount Hua, killing his own disciples—

Nothing would have shaken Mount Hua to its core more than that.

‘Which is why I believe the Sect Leader’s condition has no direct ties to the Blood Demon Cult.’

Still, she could not be entirely certain.

‘There is far too little information about the Sect Leader’s death.’

The circumstances were different from what she had known regarding the Namgoong Clan.

Most of what she knew about Mount Hua involved its collapse from within—not the death of its Sect Leader.

However, there was one thing—the Fifth Blood Pillar had once made an offhand remark during a conversation with the Second Blood Pillar.

“I stumbled across it while investigating what caused the Mount Hua Sect Leader’s death. Some hidden manual stashed away by that thief known as Ten-Thousand-League Phantom. But it requires an extremely rare elixir to cultivate. More useful to you than to me, so I offer it as a gift.”

“That madman Ten-Thousand-League Phantom... formations, traps, poison—it was a nightmare to get my hands on it.”

The Fifth Blood Pillar had gone on at length about how he had acquired the manual.

It had been quite clear that he intended to use it as leverage to gain something in return.

What caught Seolhwa’s attention was that the Second Blood Pillar, who rarely paid heed to others, had listened to every word of the Fifth Blood Pillar’s story. That alone was strange enough to warrant attention.

She had not expected that it would lead to information related to the Mount Hua Sect Leader’s death.

‘Though it is not certain yet, there is clearly a connection between that secret manual and the Sect Leader’s illness.’

Since the Fifth Blood Pillar had learned about it while investigating the Sect Leader’s death, then tracing that connection could lead to uncovering the illness’s cause—and perhaps even a cure.

“The Sect Leader is currently in seclusion under the pretext of closed-door training. To receive his help, we must first cure him.”

And for that, they would need to find him.

“Yu Gang knows where the Sect Leader is hiding.”

Namgoong Mucheon slowly nodded.

He now understood why they had chosen not to inform Mount Hua of the Namgoong Clan’s visit in advance.

To secretly contact No Un, it was better to keep their movements hidden from Mount Hua’s gaze.

It was a thoroughly calculated plan.

‘She was the one who asked me to act as the front, so Mount Hua’s swordsmen would not interfere while I gathered my strength.’

She was the one who convinced the Head of the Medical Hall to come along, the one who advised against alerting Mount Hua in advance, the one who verified Yu Pyo’s hypnosis.

‘All of it...’

Every part of it had come from this child’s mind.

Like a master strategist, laying out the situation atop her palm and moving the pieces to flow exactly as she desired.

‘...And she is only thirteen.’

“Grandfather?”

“Hm.”

Her round eyes sparkled brightly.

In the child’s clear gaze, even the moon was reflected vividly.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I was just thinking how clever you are.”

Namgoong Mucheon gently stroked Seolhwa’s head.

His touch was noticeably softer than before.

“It is late. Go in and rest for today. You have done well.”

The hand that had been stroking her withdrew.

With his hands clasped behind his back, Namgoong Mucheon looked up at the high-hanging moon.

It looked as if someone had sliced it cleanly in half with a sword.

“From tomorrow, let us increase our pace.”

****

After confirming that Yu Pyo was under hypnosis, the group’s pace toward Mount Hua quickened.

Though they still traveled paths less traveled to conceal their movements, they no longer took unnecessary detours as before.

Inside the rattling carriage, Seolhwa looked across at Choryeon, who sat opposite her.

Choryeon had been despondent ever since Seop Mugwang departed.

“May I ask you something?”

Choryeon, who had been staring down at her feet, lifted her head and met Seolhwa’s gaze.

Her lips curved gently.

“Yes. Of course.”

—The one Choryeon loves.

“....”

—Why is it the Commander of the Bipung Division?

To the extent that she was willing to infiltrate the Blood Demon Cult in her past life just to avenge Seop Mugwang—willing to take on such danger.

Why does she hold him so dear?

—Is it... affection?

At Seolhwa’s cautious question, Choryeon let out a small laugh.

She laughed softly, but her expression soon turned into a bitter smile, as if recalling something long past.

“Well... such feelings alone are not enough to explain it.”

“?”

“I owe him my life.”

But it was not just her life she owed.

He was the one who gave her a reason to want to live again—when she had believed everything was already over.

“I was only eighteen when I escaped the imperial palace. I had lost my family, my friends, everyone I held dear when I was ten. I lived those eight years for revenge alone.”

If she had not gotten lost in the mountains while searching for herbs that day, she too would likely have died by the Second Prince’s hand.

By the time she found her way back, guided by the glow of firelight, the village had already been consumed by flames, and her loved ones were dying in agony within them.

“The imperial guards slaughtered the villagers trying to flee the flames, and the Second Prince stood by, watching the fire as if it were some festival.”

She could do nothing but hide behind the bushes and weep in silence.

She had to cover her ears against the screams, tremble at the laughter, and nurture within her a vengeance that burned as fiercely as the flames.

The death of her loved ones was mere amusement to the Second Prince, and there was nowhere she could even report the atrocities he had committed.

That was what enraged her, what felt so unjust, what she could not bear.

“For eight years, I lived for one purpose: to kill him. And I succeeded. It felt incredible. As if the poison that had long festered in my heart had been purged all at once.”

But as she fled the pursuit of the imperial enforcers, the Jin Yi Guards, Choryeon came to realize that she no longer understood why she was so desperate to escape.

She had lost her reason to live.

The vengeance that had sustained her all this time was gone, and all that remained was a hollow emptiness.

“So I intended to die. There was no longer any way to shake off the Jin Yi Guards. Rather than be captured and tortured, I chose to end my life myself.”

Thus, Choryeon began searching for a poisonous plant.

Deep within the mountains, and with her skills as a renowned physician, finding a painless herb for suicide was not difficult.

“And that was when I met him.”

When she first saw him, Seop Mugwang was dying deep within the forest, bleeding heavily from a sword wound to the chest.