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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: The Namgung Sega's Granddaughter's Return
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‘He’s gone.’
After Eunwol left, Seolhwa finally relaxed.
If he had truly wanted to, Eunwol could have killed her right there. Taking her to Hwaoru after knocking her out would have been no trouble for him.
But Eunwol had returned.
Judging by the fact that she couldn't sense any trace of him even with her senses pushed to their maximum, he was truly gone.
Not killing her, nor taking her, implied two things.
One, he was challenging her to rampage as much as she pleased, and two, he was confident he could take her at any time.
‘Anyway, that’s a relief.’
Whatever his intention, what she needed most right now was a 'reprieve.'
Whether that period was short or long, she needed time to prepare to face him. And today, she had learned two things for certain.
Hyeolma would not give up on her, and for now, she was safe.
As she felt relieved by that thought, her vision suddenly blurred.
“…?”
Seolhwa staggered, losing her balance, and leaned against a nearby tree.
It seemed the sleeping dart's effects were spreading.
Besides that, blood was still flowing from the wound she had sustained from Pawol.
As the tension in her body eased after the battle, the effects of the sleeping dart and the lingering blood energy naturally began to take hold.
‘Not yet.’
Her family might already know she was gone and be searching for her.
She had to hurry back before they worried more.
‘Before the sun rises…’
She looked up at the night sky. It was still the hour when darkness enveloped the entire world.
Seolhwa took heavy steps.
* * *
How much time had passed?
Thump, thump. Her steps gradually slowed.
The problem was that she had gone too far, trying to avoid Namgung Mucheon's senses.
A child’s body was weaker than she expected, and it was not easy to travel such a long distance with this body.
‘I need to go back.’
Just a little further.
Seolhwa turned her head and looked down at the city lights spread out below the mountain ridge.
The city lights blurred, overlapping.
For a while now, her eyelids had felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, constantly drooping.
‘…So sleepy.’
So, so sleepy.
“Oh?”
A rather young voice came from in front of her, as she struggled to walk.
Seolhwa lifted her head to look at him.
His face was obscured by her blurry vision.
Just…
‘Plum blossoms…’
….
….
…Hwasanpa…?
Seolhwa collapsed.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa?!”
The sound of someone rushing towards her urgently echoed across the ground.
That was the last voice she heard.
* * *
People.
Innocent people.
People whose young children were torn from them and who now faced death.
‘Kill them.’
A voice like a death sentence pressed down on her.
The hand holding the sword trembled, and her breath grew increasingly ragged.
The gazes of the people were filled with fear.
Fear, and at the same time, a tiny spark of hope.
A glimmer of expectation that perhaps they might survive.
But that expectation was crushed in an instant.
*Splash—*
Crimson blood splattered.
The metallic scent of blood made her stomach churn.
Those who had, just moments ago, looked at her with eyes full of life, now lay sprawled on the cold ground.
An impossibly cold voice seeped into her ears like a blade.
‘Do not hesitate. Do not give them hope of survival. That is what you must do.’
‘Leave no lingering threats. If you do not kill them, you will surely die.’
Her hand, gripping the sword, trembled.
Her master, who had ordered her to kill people and then made her kill them with her own hands, left.
There was not a hint of guilt in his retreating footsteps.
All that remained was a crimson blood path.
* * *
She opened her eyes.
The dim, dawning sky filled her vision.
Seolhwa quietly replayed the memories that came to her.
Why was she outside?
Why was she collapsed?
‘I met Sibiwol and Iwol.’
Sibiwol died, and Iwol left.
And she had survived.
Recalling the events of the night, Seolhwa sat up. But then.
“…!”
Her arms and legs were tightly bound, preventing her from fully rising.
As she pushed her upper body up, something covering her slid off.
‘Martial attire?’
It was martial attire with a plum blossom emblem.
“You’re awake?”
The voice came from beside her.
She twisted her body to look and saw a boy sitting on a flat rock, swinging his legs.
He looked about fifteen.
His black hair, with a bluish tint, was tied up tightly, and his black eyes sparkled brightly.
His skin, still showing signs of youth, was smooth, and his features were refined, clearly indicating a certain kind of character.
A character who, despite being weak, possessed strong righteousness, and would likely die young by charging headfirst into danger.
“You slept well. Aren’t you cold?”
“…I’m fine.”
“It’s a good thing the weather was warm, or you would’ve caught a cold. Don’t just fall asleep anywhere next time.”
The boy chuckled, a bright, innocent laugh devoid of any malice.
Anyone would think they were old friends.
“What do you want?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did your master send you?”
The boy tilted his head.
“Hmm…”
After deep thought, he answered with a bright face again.
“No? My master doesn’t know I’m here? Oh, but he might know now…”
He scratched his head, looking a bit crestfallen.
“He told me strictly not to go out last night, but I sneaked out.”
“…”
“I was just going to play for a short while and go back. If it weren’t for you.”
Seolhwa frowned.
Their conversation was going nowhere.
“Untie me.”
“Can’t do that.”
The boy pointed a finger at Seolhwa.
“You look really dangerous right now.”
“…”
“It says ‘assassin’ all over your face. How do I know you won’t kill someone if I untie you?”
“It’s not like that, so untie me.”
“So, you’re not an assassin, but you’re covered in blood and exuding strong killing intent, and you just collapse in the wilderness?”
“Is that not allowed?”
“Nope. Not allowed.”
His perpetually smiling face was infuriating.
For the first time, Seolhwa felt an urge to kill someone who bore no ill will towards her.
She had never felt this way even when facing Pawol; it was a strange sensation.
The boy pointed at the blood on Seolhwa’s clothes and asked,
“Whose blood is that?”
“Pawol’s.”
“Who’s Pawol?”
“An assassin.”
The boy’s expression instantly turned serious.
He rubbed his chin and mumbled,
“Is this a power struggle between assassin groups? This, I think I’ve gotten myself into something I shouldn’t have…”
Seolhwa sighed softly.
The sun was already rising, and she had no time to waste arguing with the boy.
“If you think I’m an assassin, why did you save me? As you said, how do you know I won’t kill someone else?”
“I’m a Daoist. I don’t kill people without reason.”
“You could have at least taken me to the authorities.”
“I was going to. At first. But…”
The boy turned his head and looked towards the city.
“People were looking for someone. They seemed to be martial artists from the Namgung Sega, but they weren’t chasing you.”
“So?”
“So I thought about it for a bit. Are you the young lady the Namgung Sega is looking for, or an assassin who killed her?”
“…Did you come to a conclusion?”
“Yep.”
The boy looked at Seolhwa again and smiled.
“You’re the young lady of Namgung, aren’t you?”
The answer was unexpected.
She had naturally assumed he would say she was an assassin.
“So you knew and were just messing with me?”
“Uh… well… could you… calm down your killing intent…?”
“Untie this, now.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
The boy quickly hopped off the flat rock and untied the cloths that bound Seolhwa’s hands and feet.
The moment the cloth on her feet was also released and her limbs were free.
*Whoosh—*
A sharp gust of wind surged towards the boy.
It was Cheonpungjangnyeok, a palm technique of the Namgung clan.
“…!”
Though the boy had been focused on untying the knots, he didn't miss the incoming palm technique for a moment.
The boy immediately countered with a palm technique of Hwasanpa.
*Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!*
Dozens of exchanges occurred in an instant.
The boy seemed to struggle to keep up with Seolhwa’s speed, clenching his teeth.
*Thwack! Thwack!*
After Seolhwa pushed him back for a long time.
*Thump—!*
With a strike imbued with a slight amount of internal energy, the boy slid backward.
“Cough…!”
A little red blood trickled from the boy’s mouth, as if he had sustained an internal injury.
He couldn't easily lift his head.
He clutched his chest and caught his breath for a long time.
“Wow…”
He suddenly lifted his head.
“You’re really strong!”
The boy’s eyes sparkled.
Regardless of his internal injury, his expression was as bright as could be.
Seolhwa indifferently dusted off her hands as she watched him.
“How did you know I was a child of Namgung?”
“Well, I knew it from your internal energy! I thought you were poisoned.”
It seemed he had checked her acupoints for detoxification.
“It was a bit peculiar, but it was a pure energy. Around here, who else would have such internal energy besides Changcheon Sword, Namgung?”
The boy dusted himself off and straightened his posture.
He performed a proper Pokwon towards Seolhwa.
“My apologies for the late introduction. I am Yugang, a first-generation disciple of Hwasanpa. It is an honor to meet the young lady of the great Namgung Sega.”
Forgetting his playful demeanor from moments ago, his impeccable stance exuded the aura of a true Daoist.
