Capturing Son Gyeom
‘That bastard is moving away from the Iron Blood Family!’
Son Gyeom frowned as the eagle he had attached to Hwangtae suddenly veered westward. ‘Why all of a sudden...’
He had assumed it wouldn’t budge until Yeon-hoo left the Iron Blood Family, but now it was pulling away abruptly, sparking his curiosity about Hwangtae’s intentions.
Pushing his doubts aside for the moment, Son Gyeom swiftly gave chase to the eagle.
About fifteen minutes later?
“What!”
Son Gyeom let out a startled cry. The eagle had abruptly swung back eastward and was now plummeting toward the ground at tremendous speed.
‘Could it have sensed me and be deliberately zigzagging to shake me off?’
The suspicion was natural, but even if that were the case, Son Gyeom couldn’t afford to back down now. He raced toward the eagle’s landing spot.
As he moved, he drew his sword with his right hand and readied three hidden weapons in his left, bracing for a showdown with Hwangtae.
Kyaaak!Flutter flutter!
A piercing eagle screech echoed from beyond the woods, accompanied by the sound of flapping wings. It was clearly under attack or hunting.
Son Gyeom halted, tension rising. ‘Why would it come down to the ground?’
As the distance closed, unease swelled within him. He slowed his pace and activated his stealth technique, creeping silently toward the source of the noise.
That was when it happened.
“Is that you, the eagle’s master?”
A cold, indifferent voice cut through the air from nowhere. Son Gyeom whipped around, eyes wide.
A man stood there. Recognition dawned, and Son Gyeom’s eyes bulged even further.
It was none other than his sworn enemy, Yeon-hoo.
Yet even with his nemesis right before him, Son Gyeom couldn’t move.
Swish.
Cheol-u emerged silently from behind him. At the same moment, a brilliant azure arrow—not unlike a streak of light—shot out from the left woods.
It was Seobaek.
Son Gyeom’s gaze trembled. Only then did he realize: from the eagle’s movements onward, it had all been a trap to capture him.
‘Damn it...’
Bitter despair surged, and he bit his lip.
Then—
Flutter!Kyaaak!
“Hold still, you brat!”
The eagle’s cry and a rough man’s shout rang out from beyond the woods.
“The eagle must’ve been starving. I released a few wounded rabbits, and it came diving in like a maniac. No amount of training can override instinct, it seems.”
Son Gyeom turned shaken eyes toward Yeon-hoo, who met his gaze steadily. Their stares clashed fiercely in the air.
Yeon-hoo read deep hatred and enmity in Son Gyeom’s pupils.
‘So it was him back then. But there were others too...’
Yeon-hoo recognized Son Gyeom. He was one of the Black Cloaks who had grated on his nerves during the riverside pursuit battle with the Yellow River Lily forces.
“That glare tells me you’ve got a serious grudge against me. So why were you chasing the wrong man all this time?”
“I planned to kill him first, then you.”
“Who is he?”
“He killed my subordinates.”
Only then did Yeon-hoo understand why Son Gyeom was alone.
“That aside, if it’s a grudge against me, it doesn’t seem to stem from the river battle... Did I perhaps kill your family?”
“Do you remember Son Geon, protector of the Yellow River Lily?”
“Son Geon?”
Yeon-hoo furrowed his brow and rummaged through his memories. A vague face surfaced.
Son Geon—the man who had fallen for Yeon-hoo’s scheme during that crisis with the Ghost Family, clashing with the Northwest Murim. It was him.
Yeon-hoo let out a scoff. Among the countless souls who had perished by his hand, Son Geon was just one more, unworthy of special note.
‘This could be a problem...’
Yeon-hoo intended to capture Son Gyeom alive. There was information he needed to extract. But a man fueled by familial vengeance wouldn’t crack easily, even in captivity.
‘If he won’t talk willingly, I’ll have to change tactics.’
Yeon-hoo unfolded his arms and stepped toward Son Gyeom.
Son Gyeom raised his sword, aiming at Yeon-hoo’s forehead, while drawing his left hand back behind his shoulder, ready to hurl the hidden weapons.
In that instant, Son Gyeom flinched. As he gathered his inner energy, pain shot up from his dantian, and strength drained from his entire body.
‘No way...’
“Tension narrows the mind. If you meant to kill me, you should’ve charged the moment you saw me. Even then, the outcome wouldn’t have changed, but it’s made capturing you far easier.”
Thud thud!
Son Gyeom’s neck and waist jerked. Cheol-u had closed in and struck his pressure points.
Thump!
Son Gyeom collapsed limply. Cheol-u sealed his mute acupoint to prevent him from biting his tongue, then flipped him over to face the sky.
A new face entered Son Gyeom’s view—one he hadn’t seen before. It was Yuksoon.
He turned to Yeon-hoo with a broad grin. “I got bored lying in bed after my injury, so I whipped this up for fun. Seems pretty effective.”
Indeed, it was a new poison crafted by Yuksoon that had felled Son Gyeom. Its potency was impressive, but Son Gyeom’s shock at the unexpected situation—fixating solely on Yeon-hoo—had made the poisoning all the easier.
“Is it over?”
Jo Yeong emerged from the woods, clutching a massive eagle in his arms.
Kyaaak!
The eagle screeched fiercely at the sight of Son Gyeom. He squeezed his eyes shut. Resignation? Tears streamed down his cheeks.
Cheol-u approached Yeon-hoo. “Who was the one he was chasing? Shall I pursue?”
“Too late.”
“Then we’ll ask him.”
“Let it be for now. No rush— we can take our time.”
“Understood.”
Yeon-hoo eyed the eagle in Jo Yeong’s grasp. It looked no different from any ordinary eagle, which only heightened the intrigue.
‘Communication between humans and eagles...’
His resolve strengthened. ‘We must make it ours somehow. If we do, it’ll bolster our intelligence network and yield massive gains across countless domains.’
* * *
Yeon-hoo sat facing Yuksoon, who had fetched brush, ink, paper, and inkstone right there and begun jotting things down.
“If we gather these, I might be able to devise a way to loosen his tongue.”
Yeon-hoo scanned Yuksoon’s list. Each item was a rare, hard-to-procure ingredient.
“That’ll take some time.”
“Or we could just torture him into talking.”
Yeon-hoo shook his head. “A man with eyes like that won’t break easily. Besides, if you’ve never made or tested it before, there’s no guarantee of success.”
Tap.
“Still, we have to try. If you can pull it off, it’ll be a huge help.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Yeon-hoo gazed at Yuksoon’s childlike smile, freshly grateful for his survival. Their irreplaceable bond mattered, but Yuksoon’s exceptional talents were indispensable.
“Will you take me on the next mission?”
“No.”
“My lord.”
Yeon-hoo was firm. He locked eyes with the disappointed Yuksoon. “I thought I’d lost you back then. I won’t endure that pain again—focus on recovering.”
“Everything’s fine except my eyesight...”
“That’s exactly why. With poor vision, you’d be vulnerable to ambushes. Aura sense has limits—obey me.”
“...Understood.”
Yeon-hoo watched the dejected Yuksoon, then something struck him. ‘Could that work too?’
He asked immediately, “Can you produce spirit elixirs that enhance inner energy?”
“I’ve never studied that. My poison manuals don’t cover it.”
Yeon-hoo swallowed his disappointment and lifted his teacup. Yuksoon continued,
“But if I had a sample, I could probably figure it out. Once I know the ingredients, it’s not much different from poisons.”
“You can identify ingredients just by looking at a pill?”
“My tongue’s special. One taste, and I can discern anything.”
Yeon-hoo’s mind cleared. Success here could rival fielding hundreds of thousands of troops.
‘Prioritize this over decoding the eagle training.’
“Cheol-u.”
“Yes.”
“You’ll need to visit the Shaolin Temple.”
“Fetch the Summon Pill Jo Yeong mentioned?”
“Don’t plan to steal it outright.”
“Then...”
“Temples run on donations too. Buy it with ample funds—no loose ends. Get what you need from Songyeong.”
“Understood. I’ll depart at once.”
“This is yours alone. Rest fully for a few days first—no rooftops. Go straight to your quarters and recover.”
“...Yes.”
As Cheol-u left, Yuksoon asked, “Must you send Brother Cheol-u for that?”
“In case money doesn’t work.”
“Ah...”
“Now rest.”
“Yes, my lord.”
With Yuksoon gone, Yeon-hoo approached the desk, preparing brush and ink to transcribe the mind technique for all.
A sudden headache hit; he set the brush down and flung open the window.
No wind today. The sky was clear, but dark clouds raced in from the distant east.
‘I’ve weathered so much rain...’
Yeon-hoo loved rain. As a child, he’d spend rainy days alone in the pavilion on the family’s rear mountain, lost in reverie—earning scoldings and beatings from his father for neglecting studies and training. In extreme cases, he’d been locked in the storehouse for days with only water; at night, his brother would sneak food.
‘Come to think of it, I’ve never visited even once.’
Since returning to the Iron Blood Family, he hadn’t gone to his brother’s grave. The Ancestor Hall held his father’s spirit tablet, but not his brother’s—only a token nook, meaningless by comparison.
Ssss...
A pang stabbed his chest. Busyness was no excuse. Why, then? It was a mere two hours’ lightness skill away.
Resentment lingered deep in his heart toward his brother, fused inseparably with resentment toward his father—like an unbreakable lump of steel.
“Whoa! Snow!”
“First snow!”
Exclamations burst from everywhere, snapping Yeon-hoo from his thoughts. Snowflakes danced down. The first snow.
“My lord!”
Songyeong entered the courtyard. “I need to discuss the mines.”
“Come up.”
“Yes!”
Songyeong vaulted into the open window with a light leap.
“Even the heavens seem utterly mad. First snow already? Huh?”
He trailed off, eyes widening. Snow mixed with rain, turning to sleet.
“I have somewhere to be—talk tonight.”
“Where are you—?”
Songyeong couldn’t finish. Yeon-hoo had become a black speck in an instant. He shook his head ruefully.
“He’s getting faster and faster...”