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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Nineteen
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Yunnan Province. Kunming.
In the center of a large lake stood a magnificent pavilion, its lights never dimming even in the dark of night.
The name of the large six-story pavilion was 'Hwaoru'.
It was a massive inn and tavern, renowned as the best for wine, song, and women in Yunnan.
On the uppermost floor of the tavern, on a terrace overlooking the shimmering silver lake and the exotic city of Kunming.
A man who appeared not yet thirty sat before the railing, sipping from a small teacup.
The man, with long, reddish-black hair, had half his face covered by a pitch-black mask, making his expression and features difficult to discern.
"Pungnoesin..."
Under the mask, the man's lips curved into a deep smile.
"Ilhwa went along willingly?"
"Yes. The cultists pursuing the Soruju were also killed by Pungnoesin's subordinates. The Soruju knew, yet did not stop them."
"How could that child have known?"
Surely, all her memories should have been erased.
How on earth did she know she was a child of Namgung?
Since when?
"Should we handle it quietly?"
"Whom, that child?"
"...She betrayed the Ru-ju. She also took the Ru-ju's belongings."
"Heh heh heh..."
The man twirled the teacup.
The teacup moved with the motion of his fingers, yet the tea inside did not stir, not even a ripple.
"Do you think that child can escape as she pleases, just because she wishes to?"
How much effort have I invested in that child?
"Don't worry. She'll come back on her own accord soon enough."
"...Are you taking back someone who killed our brethren?"
"Those paltry worm-like lives? They're a cheap price to pay if it means acquiring that child."
"..."
"Do you have a complaint, Pawol?"
"...No, Ru-ju. How could I harbor dissatisfaction with your will?"
"Good."
The man set down the teacup and rose from his seat.
His reddish-black hair swayed at his waist.
With his hands clasped behind his back, he gazed down at the shimmering lights of Kunming.
Among the lights adorning the night, the streets were filled with pathetic drunks, swept along by wine and women.
Worm-like lives, whose disappearance would be unnoticed by anyone.
"It's about time I left this place."
A dragon slumbering beneath the water is destined to ascend to the heavens and command the world when the time is right.
That time is not far off.
With my subordinates hidden throughout Jungwon performing their roles well, five years at most should be enough.
'Until then...'
...she can play around as much as she likes.
"I should check if she's doing well."
"I will go."
"I'll give you a gift; go and deliver it."
"Understood!"
In an instant, a faint breeze stirred.
When the man withdrew his gaze from the city, the man called Pawol had already vanished.
For a moment, the man's lips curved deeply under the mask.
On the deserted terrace, only the teacup the man had left behind grew cold in the dark air.
* * *
The Head of the Medical Hall, summoned by the Patriarch, arrived.
With the Patriarch and Seop Mugwang observing, the Head of the Medical Hall immediately examined Ilhwa's body.
She took her pulse and meticulously examined various parts of Ilhwa's body for a long while.
The Head of the Medical Hall, Choryeon, reported her findings, stepping back as if finished.
"As you mentioned, there are traces of a spell that placed a restriction."
"A way to remove it?"
Choryeon shook her head.
"Medically, there's no way. At least not for me. Unless the one who cast the restriction releases it themselves."
"It will naturally lift with time."
As she spoke, adjusting her lifted sleeve, everyone's gaze turned to Ilhwa.
"It's just not revealing her identity right now, but with time, her name will spread throughout the world."
The restriction is set to lift the moment the Hyeolgyo reveals itself in Jungwon.
The Hyeolgyo members will wander the world, praising the name of the Daesura Hyeolgyo and recruiting followers.
To that end, the restriction is destined to be released simultaneously with the Hyeolgyo's emergence.
"This concerns your very life. Don't take it lightly."
"I'll be careful."
Namgung Mucheon asked the Head of the Medical Hall.
"What about other matters?"
"It's true her senses are dulled. Her pain perception and emotions are the most severe. I believe you understand how dangerous it is for a martial artist not to feel pain, without me having to explain."
Pain is a signal sent by the body.
A kind of warning signal that something is wrong, urging one to immediately take care of their body.
In the Jianghu, where life and death are decided in a fleeting moment, failing to perceive that small signal is a fatal weakness that can lead to death.
The instinctive ability to gauge an opponent's realm and preemptively detect danger also originates from the fear of pain, so this is not a matter to be taken lightly.
Namgung Mucheon gently closed his eyes.
If it were up to him, he would want to prevent her from wielding a sword.
But would this child truly put down her sword? Wasn't she the one who returned to save Namgung in the first place?
"More importantly..."
At Choryeon's hesitant voice, Namgung Mucheon opened his eyes again.
"What is it?"
"This child's meridians are unstable."
Namgung Mucheon looked back at Ilhwa.
Ilhwa had a clueless expression.
"You said you expelled her previous internal energy, correct? It seems to be due to that..."
"Come here."
Namgung Mucheon beckoned to Ilhwa.
Ilhwa stood up and approached him.
Namgung Mucheon turned her around and placed a hand on her back.
At the same instant, Ilhwa's body flinched, trembling.
"Does it hurt?"
Ilhwa shook her head.
"It should hurt."
"..."
She didn't feel pain, but she felt a colossal energy swirling through her body.
The clear, utterly pure energy was also immensely powerful, flowing through her meridians as if a dragon was circling within her body.
When Namgung Mucheon's internal force reached her Dantian, Ilhwa trembled once more.
And with that, his energy was withdrawn.
"..."
After a moment, there was still no reaction.
Ilhwa turned around and looked at him.
The moment Namgung Mucheon's expression came into view, Ilhwa mistook it for him crying.
He raised his thick hand and placed it firmly on Ilhwa's head.
It was indeed a hand like a rock.
"You have crossed immeasurable time to return."
Ilhwa's eyes widened.
Could it be that he realized she had regressed? Just by scanning her meridians?
However, his subsequent words revealed that was not the case.
"Eight years must have been an incredibly cruel time for you."
He gently stroked Ilhwa's head.
"Welcome back."
She couldn't tell what he had seen in her.
Masters, after all, sometimes say and do incomprehensible things, and see what ordinary people cannot.
She herself had been a master of the Hwagyeong realm like Namgung Mucheon in her previous life, but being of the same realm didn't mean she could understand him.
From the outset, there was bound to be a difference in depth between someone who forcibly accumulated internal energy to reach the Hwagyeong realm and someone who achieved it through enlightenment.
'In this life, can I also become a master like Namgung Mucheon?'
Ilhwa pondered again the internal energy that had just coursed through her body.
She had only had a tiny taste of Namgung Mucheon's power, but it was a power so coveted it felt like a thirst.
'Someday, I too...'
It was then.
"Looks like someone's flown in."
At Namgung Mucheon's murmured words, Ilhwa looked at him.
He lowered the hand that had been stroking her head, took hold of her shoulder, and gazed beyond her.
Ilhwa also twisted her body slightly and stared in that direction.
'Someone's coming.'
A considerable presence was rapidly approaching.
A moment later, a commotion was heard from the direction of the Patriarch's Hall entrance.
"First Young Master! I told you not to report to the Patriarch yet!"
It was the urgent voice of Steward Namgung Mun.
Soon, a man appeared at the end of the path leading to the pavilion, leaving that voice behind.
Long, lustrous black hair, as if poured from well-ground ink. A sharp jawline, thick eyebrows, and eyes so piercing they seemed capable of cutting with just a glance.
A prominent nose bridge and neatly closed lips. Eyes that held a mysterious dark light amidst his fair skin.
Forged by martial arts, he exuded a refined aura simply by standing, his attire neat, unlike someone who had rushed in.
If he hadn't been taking ragged breaths, visible even from afar as his chest heaved, he might have even appeared at ease.
For a moment, his gaze, fixed on Ilhwa standing before Namgung Mucheon, remained still.
"First Young Master!"
The Steward, who appeared late, urgently tried to stop him, but realizing it was already too late, he sighed in resignation and let him go.
He slowly approached the pavilion.
The lights illuminating the path to the pavilion cast his figure into clearer relief.
Thump. Thump.
'...'
A faint drumbeat sounded from somewhere. It also sounded like someone tapping on a desk.
Realizing the sound was coming from within her own body, Ilhwa, bewildered, placed a hand on her chest.
They said her meridians were unstable.
It seemed there was indeed something wrong.
