The White-Robed Recluse
Three days later, Yeon-hoo and Yuksoon entered a small village at a crossroads leading north. Somehow, the Golden Merchant Group's pursuers hadn't caught up during the journey. Yeon-hoo stared at the approaching village, his gaze steadying.
'Is he still alive?'
There was someone he had to meet. Even in these chaotic early days of ascending to lordship, he'd personally gone to the Golden Merchant Group to sell the Dragon's Eye Stone just to reach this village.
"Why are we heading there, my lord?"
"Someone I need to see."
"Do I know them too?"
"No one knows but me."
"......Understood."
Moments later, as they reached the village outskirts, field workers gawked at them in wide-eyed terror.
"Wait here."
"I'll be right back."
"Don't just stand around—take out some silver and distribute it to every household."
"Yes, my lord."
Yuksoon watched Yeon-hoo's retreating figure enter the village, tilting his head in puzzlement.
'To think he knows someone in a backwater like this...... And what's his connection to this place that he's handing out money?'
Yeon-hoo stepped into the yard of a ramshackle thatched hut that looked ready to collapse at any moment. A young man sweeping the yard froze, eyes bulging as he stared.
"......Who are you?"
"Is he inside?"
"......"
"I've come to see Master Hyeon-jin."
"My master isn't here right now."
Yeon-hoo's eyes flickered at the word master.
"Then where can I find him?"
"He went fishing at the lake."
The young man set down his broom and strode out. "I'll take you there. Follow me."
Yeon-hoo trailed behind, surveying the village. It had barely a dozen homes, but it brimmed with the quiet vitality of everyday life. A mild commotion rose from behind—he glanced back to see Yuksoon handing out money to the villagers. The young man frowned at the sight.
"He's in my service. I told him to give silver to the villagers, so no need to worry."
"Ah, yes."
The young man resumed walking. After a long trek, Yeon-hoo beheld a lake nestled in the forest like a painting. In one deserted corner, a white-robed figure sat under a bamboo umbrella, fishing line dangling. Yeon-hoo's gaze grew subtly complex as he watched.
"Master!"
The white-robed man turned at the youth's call. Yeon-hoo met his eyes squarely.
'Still the same.'
Their gazes locked in the air. A calm voice slipped from the white-robed man's lips.
"Dong-i."
"Yes, Master."
"Looks like I'll be fishing through the night. Go help with the fields."
"Yes, Master."
As the youth vanished the way he'd come, the white-robed man turned back to his line. Yeon-hoo approached undeterred, perching on a rock beside him.
"You've really let yourself go."
"My fate was always better than yours, wasn't it?"
"Fair enough."
"Care for a drink?"
"Sure."
"There's a few bottles in that basket—pick one."
Yeon-hoo pulled out a crudely made bottle, uncorked it. The sharp tang stung his nose, but he drained it in one go.
"You've had your drink. Now state your business."
"I need you to come with me."
"You think I'll just follow?"
"Otherwise, I wouldn't have come."
"A threat?"
"A request."
A scoff. "The man more fearsome than any demon resorts to begging instead of threats. Must be desperate."
"That too."
A glint flashed in the white-robed man's eyes, but with both facing their lines, Yeon-hoo missed it.
"What if I refuse?"
"I'll learn to fish until you do."
"And if I still refuse?"
"I'll kill you."
Another scoff. "Worried I'll join another faction and become your enemy?"
"Half right."
Then—the rod tip bent sharply. Moments later, an arm-thick fish leaped from the water, snapping the line. The white-robed man calmly retied the hook; Yeon-hoo watched in silence.
How long did the quiet last? The white-robed man recast his line and spoke.
"Is the throne of the North that tempting?"
"It's my seat by right—greed doesn't fit."
"I hear there's an heir...... your brother."
"He's dead."
The white-robed man's eyes wavered faintly. Yeon-hoo's gleamed anew. The exchange confirmed it: the man had truly secluded himself from the world.
"Did you kill him?"
"Still treating me like a monster."
"Aren't you more terrifying than any monster? Answer—did you?"
"Wi Yeon Gwang."
"......"
Silence fell again, but briefly.
"Haa......"
The white-robed man gazed at distant mountains, sighing with tangled emotions only he understood.
"Because of me, innocent villagers' lives hang by a thread. Haa......"
"Follow me, and they'll live more peacefully than before. I promise it."
The words carried hidden weight—a blatant threat if twisted. The white-robed man turned, his lake-clear eyes now simmering with anger. His voice, laced with fury, emerged from feminine red lips.
"You think you can win hearts this way?"
"Plenty."
"Even Cao Cao poured on the sincerity but failed with Guan Yu. Learn what that means first."
"I'm not Cao Cao. You're not Guan Yu."
Their gazes clashed like sparks. Neither looked away.
Then—rustling from the brush behind. Yuksoon came running.
"My lord, suspicious men approaching the village! Doesn't feel right!"
"Armed?"
"Yes."
"How many?"
"Around thirty."
Yeon-hoo glanced at the white-robed man, who stared back with heated words.
"Always like this. Wherever you go, blood and death follow without fail. I...... I hated it so much it made me shiver."
"We'll talk later."
Boom! Yeon-hoo kicked off, soaring toward the village. Yuksoon moved to follow but shot a warning.
"Hey, you. Whatever your tie to my lord, watch your mouth. Blood and death? Maybe, but how many lives has he saved? Don't spout off."
Boom! Yuksoon launched after Yeon-hoo.
The white-robed man watched their backs with conflicted eyes, another sigh escaping.
"Haa...... I thought burying myself in the wilds would end it, but his tenacity endures."
With the sigh's echo, he vanished like smoke. Incomparably exquisite lightness skill.
Yuksoon trailed Yeon-hoo, brows furrowed.
'I've never seen him push his lightness skill this hard......'
Yeon-hoo blazed ahead at phenomenal speed. Yuksoon, who'd crossed countless battlefields with him, sensed something different now.
'What's with that arrogant prick and the villagers that he's reacting so urgently?'
As doubts swirled, Yeon-hoo had already crested a ridge overlooking the village. Yuksoon was stunned. Renowned for his own peerless lightness skill, he'd been left behind in moments.
'Damn...... he really is a monster.'
Yeon-hoo, cresting the ridge, scanned sharply. On a narrow path from the northwest, a group advanced—not thirty, but far more. Villagers fled like they'd seen ghosts.
An arrow pierced a farmer; his scream reached Yeon-hoo after the sight.
"Argh!"
Thud thud thud! Ten riders spurred ahead toward the village.
Closer now, Yeon-hoo identified them.
'Yellow River Lily......'
Unmistakable Yellow River Lily garb. He drew his sword mid-stride; as the blade cleared the sheath, blood-light cloaked it.
Chirrrk.
He'd summoned a demonic art he rarely used—a sign of deep fury.
'Hyeon-jin is essential for the great cause. I must bring him, no matter what.'
That's why he'd come. Yet Yellow River Lily appeared out of nowhere, killing a villager with no ties to the martial world—just an ordinary farmer.
Always like this. Wherever you go, blood and death follow without fail. I...... I hated it so much it made me shiver.
Hyeon-jin's voice lingered. If villagers suffered greatly here, he might seal his heart forever.
"Yuksoon!"
"Yes, my lord!"
"Don't let a single one enter the village."
"Yes, sir!"