The Jade Tablet and a Mother's Farewell
As the woman stepped inside, Won Ayoung, who had been weeping, wiped her tears and rose to her feet.
"Young Palace Master, this is the woman who saved us. Her name is Khulan."
The moment Seol Mokyeon realized that their benefactor—the mistress of this very ger—was none other than the woman called Khulan, she offered her thanks at once.
"I am Seol Mokyeon, Young Palace Master of the Ice Palace."
At those words, Khulan set her axe down in a corner and poured warm milk into a bowl.
"Khulan, is it? If you're from the Ice Palace, that's from far up north, isn't it? What brought you all the way down here?"
Seeing Khulan speak Han Chinese so effortlessly, Seol Mokyeon was caught off guard for an instant, though she quickly concealed her surprise.
But for all her seemingly placid exterior, Khulan missed not even the smallest detail.
"What? Surprised that my Han Chinese is fluent?"
"…Forgive my rudeness."
"It's nothing. It's been a long while since I last spoke it. It's good, honestly."
For someone living alone in such a remote land, every one of her gestures carried an unmistakable dignity.
"I can speak Han Chinese too!"
The boy Tolga piped up before anyone noticed, and Khulan gave him a tender smile and patted his head.
"That's right. It's your father's language, so you must study it hard."
"Okay! Big sister, come finish what we were doing!"
"Shall we?"
Won Ayoung, apparently used to looking after children, happily kept Tolga company, and with the two of them behind her, Seol Mokyeon broached the matter at hand.
"Thank you for helping us again. We were on our way to Ming."
"Is that so? To travel so far on a winter's day like this…"
Khulan seemed about to say something more, then swallowed it back, quietly drank her milk, and set the bowl down.
"I could ask why, but it would only give me a headache, I imagine. Rest for a while, then go."
"I'm grateful for your kindness, but we'll be leaving at once."
"Leaving at once? The sky doesn't seem to be on your side."
Khulan tilted her head and beckoned them to follow, and Seol Mokyeon trailed slowly behind her.
"The snow…"
"The snow will have melted off for the most part by tomorrow or the day after. Leave then. Besides, it seems that child Tolga has taken a liking to her. You don't often meet outsiders on the steppe, you know."
When they stepped outside, pristine white snow blanketed the vast grassland as far as the eye could see.
Inside the ger, she hadn't realized—but a biting wind was howling as well.
"You're from the North Sea Ice Palace, where this sort of weather is routine. But is it all right for the horses?"
"Well…"
"You may be fine, but the horses are another matter. Show them a little consideration too."
"But the longer we stay here…"
Seol Mokyeon knew all too well that the longer they lingered in this place, the more trouble they would bring to the mother and her son.
So they had to leave as quickly as possible.
"You're being pursued by someone, aren't you?"
Seol Mokyeon didn't bother to hide the truth.
"Yes. Men called the Sword of the North. I'm sure you know of them."
"They're the persistent sort, aren't they…"
Among the people of this land, the mention of the Sword of the North drew one reaction, always: fear.
Yet the woman before her showed not fear, but something tangled and inscrutable.
"I'm sorry. I take back what I said. Leave as soon as you can."
"Understood. We will."
"I'm sorry."
"Not at all."
To Seol Mokyeon, the mere fact that Khulan had offered them even a brief refuge was more than reason enough to be grateful.
"Ayoung, prepare to depart."
"Wait."
Just then, Khulan, her face suddenly urgent, hurried into the ger and emerged gripping her long spear in one hand and her son's hand in the other.
"Mom! What's wrong all of a sudden? My hand hurts!"
"Listen here! Young Palace Master! I have a favor to ask!"
"Yes? If it is within my power, I will help you."
"Take my son with you."
"All of a sudden, what do you…?"
As she tilted her head at the baffling request, a familiar thundering reached her ears.
Thunder of hooves!
The sound of horses' iron shoes tearing savagely at the earth—and with it, the grinding clang of armor in motion!
Yes! This was the sound that heralded the coming of the death god of the steppe. The Sword of the North!
Seol Mokyeon's heart began to pound like a madman's drum.
"Haah… hah… hah…"
That sound, that very sound, brought back the sight of Seolyeong Squad dying before her eyes, and breathing became an agony.
Her face drained white, Seol Mokyeen tottered on the verge of collapse—
And then a fierce shock stung her cheek.
Smack!
Khulan's ferocious hand had flown at the dazed girl.
"Kyaah!"
"Snap out of it! Breathe! Control your breath, Young Palace Master!"
Her bewilderment lasted only a moment. Slowly, deliberately, Seol Mokyeon drew in her breath.
Crude it may have been, but her mind came back in full. With hard, resolute eyes, Seol Mokyeon looked at Khulan.
"Lady Khulan, flee with your son. It's us they want."
Khulan gave a short, dry laugh at her words.
"That was their purpose, I'm sure…"
"…I beg your pardon?"
"I have nothing more to say to you. There's no time, so take my son and run."
"Lady Khulan!"
"Here. Take this."
Khulan hesitated a moment, then murmured low, almost to herself.
"It might be dangerous… but it has to be better than that place. If I'm wagering on possibility, I'll wager it here."
"…Pardon?"
What she pressed into Seol Mokyeon's hands was a jade tablet engraved with a resplendent pattern.
One glance was enough to tell it was no ordinary object.
"What in the world is…?"
"Didn't you say you were headed to Ming? Keep going this way, and you'll find their expeditionary army."
"Lady Khulan…"
"Go. And show this to the one who holds the highest authority there."
"But what is this, exactly—"
"Go!"
It seemed unlikely she would answer even more questions, so Seol Mokyeon resolved to do as she was told.
Khulan's eyes were the eyes of Seolyeong Squad's last moments.
The eyes of one who had resolved herself to everything, determined to stand by her own words.
"Ayoung!"
"Young Palace Master! Tolga, come, we must go!"
Won Ayoung finished the preparations in a flash.
But Tolga wrenched his hand free of her grasp and ran instead to Khulan.
"Mom… Mom!"
"My little Tolga, don't be afraid. If you go ahead with your sisters, your mother will follow right after."
"Mom… *hic*…"
"Tolga. Go. Now."
She longed to soothe his heart, but she could hear the hoofbeats drawing closer with every passing breath—they had to be away from this place at once.
Yet Tolga's feet refused to budge.
And at that sight, Khulan finally raised her voice.
"Tolga!"
"*Sob*… *hic*…"
He was only a small boy, but somehow he understood that he had to obey those words.
"Go. I will buy you time."
"Understood. Lady Khulan…"
Just as they turned to leave, a dark figure appeared in the distance before Seol Mokyeon's eyes.
The steppe had a saying of its own.
When you see black armor, running is no longer possible.
Aaang!
The moment they were spotted, arrows came screaming in!
Seol Mokyeon drew the sword at her waist and swept it in a wide arc.
"Ngh!"
Clang!
The force of arrows imbued with inner energy left her hands stinging and numb.
'Ngh…'
"Damn it…"
Having cut off their escape with a volley of arrows, the Sword of the North had already surrounded the ger.
They were caked in dust, as though they had ridden through the nights without rest, worn thin with exhaustion.
But their eyes burned with more killing intent than ever before.
They intended, beyond any doubt, to collect the price for every ounce of suffering they had endured.
"They don't usually come down this far…"
So close to Ming's army encampment, they had never ventured this deep before—which meant the Ice Palace's Young Palace Master must be quite valuable to them indeed.
"These people have done nothing wrong! Take me alone!"
At Seol Mokyeon's cry, their leader parted through his men and stepped forward. Oyangga.
"Running from us turned out to be a blessing in disguise, Young Palace Master. You staged quite the entertaining little show. I'll grant you that."
Oyangga's scars writhed across his face.
"These people are innocent. What you want is me, in the end, isn't it?"
"True enough… and yet."
Oyangga dismounted and walked slowly toward them.
"It seems it was Tengri's will that I lost you after all. To think you would lead me straight to this place."
Oyangga spoke in riddles that made no sense.
Khulan stared at him in silence—then her spear shot out like a flash of lightning.
As his men instinctively reached for their bowstrings, Oyangga roared.
"Nobody moves! She is a precious one!"
"Shut your mouth!"
Khulan's thrust came with terrible momentum!
But against a Peak Realm master like Oyangga, it posed little threat.
Thud.
Oyangga caught the spear shaft with easy grace.
But Khulan, as though she had already anticipated it, twisted the spear.
The force traveling up his palm left Oyangga with no choice but to let go.
"Hm."
His palm lightly split open, Oyangga regarded Khulan in silence.
"Well, well… you've learned the martial arts, have you?"
"Enough talk!"
"I will help too!"
Seol Mokyeon stepped in to aid Khulan, and Oyangga drew the saber at his waist.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Befitting a Peak Realm master, he turned aside the combined assault of the two First-Rate warriors with ease.
"Hyaaaah!"
"Hm!"
BOOM!
A single blow born of her towering physique drove Oyangga stumbling backward.
"Haah!"
Seizing on the instant his balance wavered, Seol Mokyeon unleashed the Ice Palace's ultimate technique—the Frost-White Divine Sword Art—and drove her blade in.
"Oh-ho…"
Worthy of a sword art only the Palace Master and Young Palace Master could learn, every movement of her blade birthed razor-sharp frost that hunted for Oyangga's vital points.
A wind of blood-red saber energy coiled like clouds around Oyangga's body, deflecting the frost that slashed in from every direction.
The crimson saber force spread wide as a surging tide, then bore down like a monstrous tsunami—only to rupture in midair with a thunderous shockwave, cleaved apart.
And in the very same breath, a downpour of blood-red saber energy rained down upon Khulan and Seol Mokyeon.
"Get behind me! Frost-White Divine Sword Art: Mountain Frost-White!"
Thanks to the snow that had fallen all around them, the wall of ice that rose was harder and taller than it ever would have been otherwise.
The blood-red saber energy hurtled toward the ice wall with savage force.
BOOOM!
But no ice wall, however solid, amounted to anything before overwhelming power!
It cracked—and in an instant, it shattered into fragments.
"Kyaah!"
"Blast it!"
Boom! CRASH!
Khulan caught the staggering Seol Mokyeon and whirled her spear like a windmill.
Clang-clang-KLANG!
She deflected the dregs of the saber energy and barely blunted Oyangga's assault.
But she had not stopped it completely—her body was now covered in cuts and welts.
"Hah… hah…"
"I'm sorry. This is all because of us…"
Khulan patted Seol Mokyeon's head and smiled as if it were nothing.
"Helping you was my own choice. Whatever follows is simply fate. Do not blame yourself."
With those words, she slowly lowered her spear.
"I surrender."
"You've made a wise choice."
Oyangga calmly sheathed his saber, and Khulan spoke on as she watched him.
"In exchange—I have conditions."
"And what reason would I have to grant them, Princess?"
'…Princess?'
Seol Mokyeon's eyes flew wide open.
"Calling me 'Princess,' long after our nation has fallen. What a laughable title."
"We were merely pushed out of the Central Plains. Our nation still stands, as sound as ever."
Khulan answered Oyangga's words.
"But with no one to rally around, we scatter a little more each day. Soon even the name of Yuan may vanish entirely, replaced by something else. You squabbling upstarts are already at each other's throats over the empty throne, aren't you?"
Oyangga's brow twitched at her words.
"…We will reclaim the Central Plains."
"Then you'd best start by gathering the scattered tribes. Isn't that precisely why you've hunted me so doggedly—for the legitimacy to do it?"
"It is less that we seek a runaway Princess, and more that…"
Oyangga's gaze slid toward Tolga.
"Take those eyes elsewhere."
At the killing frost in Khulan's voice, Oyangga lowered his head.
"Understood."
"If you refuse my terms, then I will die here before your eyes, as I am. And if that happens, my son will never forgive you. Whether the legitimacy you finally found can gather these scattered people… or only hasten your ruin—I can't rightly say."
Oyangga knew very well that Khulan was more than capable of doing exactly what she threatened.
"Haah…"
He deliberated for a moment, then spoke slowly.
"I cannot release you both. One or the other—the Princess or the Prince."
"I don't ask for that. Nor would I accept it."
"I'm glad we can at least agree on that much. Then…"
Oyangga's gaze turned toward Seol Mokyeon and Won Ayoung.
"There. Let those two go free. Your own commander will understand if you take me instead of the girl."
Should he abandon the plan of capturing the Young Palace Master to claim the North Sea Ice Palace? Oyangga had to choose.
Take the Princess and the Prince? Or take the Young Palace Master?
His deliberation did not last long.
"Haah…"
Scowling, Oyangga finally nodded.
"As the Princess wishes."
"Swear it before Tengri."
"I swear it."
"Good. Then grant me a little time?"
"Take it."
Khulan helped the fallen Seol Mokyeon to her feet, then spoke slowly.
"No matter what… show that tablet to the highest authority in the expeditionary army."
"Lady Khulan…"
"I don't know how it will turn out… but if word somehow reaches him… then surely…"
She swallowed the rest.
"I beg you."
"Lady Khulan!"
"Go, before they change their minds. And you—get your mistress moving, quickly."
"We will… Come, Young Palace Master, we must go."
"Ngh…"
And so Seol Mokyeon left the ger with Won Ayoung, while the two who remained behind—Khulan and Tolga—soon departed under the escort of the Sword of the North.
'Next time, I will capture you for certain…'
'Next time, I won't run like this!'
Oyangga and Seol Mokyeon sprinted away, each in the opposite direction, with all their strength.