Chapter 79
Chapter 79
He had long sensed from their past conversations that she, like Bang Woo, carried a misfortunate past. Yet Yeonwoo had never once appeared weak or unstable.
His Senior Sister had always been confident.
The composure innate to the strong.
The strong do not hide their strength. It reveals itself naturally. There is no need to flee, and thus no reason to conceal it.
Yeonwoo had always been that way when she wielded a sword.
Bang Woo’s gaze drifted to her hand.
When Yeonwoo cut upward, she lifted her index finger slightly.
When withdrawing her blade after piercing through, she would lightly press inward first, as though using the recoil, before drawing it back out.
Even if blood or dust stained the blade mid-motion, she never shook it off.
At times she stroked the hilt gently with her thumb, as though soothing it.
They were habits most swordsmen would grit their teeth to unlearn.
Yeonwoo, however, showed not the slightest concern. It might have been childish to think so, but in Bang Woo’s eyes, Yeonwoo was…
Utterly.
“……”
Darkness fell before his eyes.
Bang Woo blinked blankly.
[Daoist Bang Woo, are you well?]
[…]
[It seems someone has come to help us. Ha… truly, truly a relief.]
Beneath the full moon, a woman of unknown name, her hair piled high and adorned with an ornate butterfly hair ornament, her face veiled, danced with a sword while gripping a crude weapon.
The moonlit blade that had tormented Bang Woo in nightmares should have been in the hands of her opponent.
Yet from the moment she appeared, his gaze had been fixed solely upon every movement she made, large and small.
The strong do not hide their strength.
[It is not Wolgeom.]
It reveals itself naturally. There is no need to flee, and thus no reason to conceal it.
Her hand, gripping the sword that shot skyward, was white as snow. The index finger slightly raised.
[Ilgeom.]
The blade that had mercilessly pierced the intruder dipped lightly inward before returning calmly to its place.
[Let it go. If you take Ilgeom, Cheon Mu-ryeong will come personally to reclaim it. Can you truly withstand Cheon Mu-ryeong?]
Cheon Mu-ryeong.
Only belatedly did Bang Woo realize it.
The chilling voice he had heard within Yeonwoo’s inner world had belonged to Cheon Mu-ryeong.
The answer was so obvious he felt foolish for only now understanding it.
…But that woman is not Yeonwoo.
Why was he even entertaining such thoughts?
Even as excessive blood loss clouded his vision and mind, Bang Woo did not close his eyes.
Eyes, ears, nose—even his skin. Every sense followed that unnamed woman.
Impossible.
He knew it as well—she could not be Yeonwoo. Had not Wolgeom Ilsal vanished years ago along with Salmak?
The faint hope—no, the thought—had already been shattered when he faced the “false” Wolgeom. If the owner of Wolgeom had changed, that meant…
But if that blade truly was not Wolgeom—
[I will not seek to know who you are. Nor will I follow you… nor ask your name, nor demand the truth of anything.]
[……Senior Brother.]
Then grant me only one truth.
Nothing else is needed. Just that one answer.
[I beg you.]
[……Senior Brother Woo.]
Do you know Yeonwoo?
[……Spare just one person.]
“Senior Brother Bang Woo!”
A chill swept over him, and Bang Woo snapped awake.
Reality.
He shook his head; his vision slowly cleared. This—this place—was real.
“Are you all right? I tried not to wake you… but you seemed to be suffering terribly.”
Yurim looked down at him with worry.
Instinctively checking his wounds, Bang Woo sucked in a sharp breath and pushed himself upright.
“Keuk.”
“Do not strain yourself, Senior Brother. The wounds are deep. Here—drink some water.”
He cooled his burning throat with cold water. Countless hallucinations tangled in his head, leaving his stomach uneasy.
The place where Bang Woo lay was unfamiliar yet warm, filled with the scent of medicinal herbs—a clinic.
“…How many days have passed since I collapsed?”
“One day. What in the world happened? When you were carried in looking like a rag—do you know how shocked I was?”
“Calm yourself, Yurim. There were circumstances.”
“I heard roughly what they were. I never thought I would hear that name at a time like this…”
Name.
Forgetting his condition, Bang Woo seized Yurim’s arm urgently.
“A name?”
Startled by the sudden movement, Yurim answered steadily.
“Yes? Ah, yes. Salmak. In a world crawling with impostors disguising themselves as them, I thought it might be that again. But the Murim Alliance Leader entrusted me with a task—delivering a letter to the Sect Leader. Judging by that, it must be no ordinary matter…”
“……”
Yurim’s voice grew distant.
A foolish expectation. Of course the woman would not reveal her name.
Bang Woo pressed a hand to his throbbing head. The image of the veiled woman wielding her sword replayed relentlessly in his mind.
“…The Namgung Clan will depart for Anhui Province at sunrise tomorrow. With the martial arts tournament abruptly canceled, the atmosphere is rather grim.”
In that instant, he stopped breathing.
Damn it.
How foolish.
To only now think of Namgung Soyo.
[Daoist, it is not I but you who are being toyed with by the demon’s tricks.]
He recalled her voice—so poor in condition it had been painful to hear.
Even in such a state, Namgung Soyo had remained calm, seeking a path to survive. While he had done nothing.
“…What of Namgung Soyo?” he asked urgently.
He had promised he would return soon. Yet here he lay, collapsed in disgrace.
Yurim tilted his head.
“Namgung Soyo? She seems well. When the Murim Alliance Leader asked Namgung Jeok-myeong about her condition, he answered in the affirmative.”
Yurim’s response showed no awareness of what had occurred.
Whatever the process, if she had been rescued safely, that was a great relief.
“Any injuries? Did you hear of any particular discomfort?”
“Nothing of the sort. Why, Senior Brother? Did something happen to her?”
“…I only asked out of concern.”
If yesterday’s events had not been spread, there was no need to say more. Yurim looked faintly surprised.
“You are showing interest for once? Namgung Soyo does have firm resolve. Though with the Namgung brothers hovering at her side, she may suffer for it.”
“If you spread such nonsense, Namgung Soyo will be put in a difficult position, Yurim.”
“Then I will not.”
Relief was brief.
Soon after, a heavy tide of guilt and self-reproach flooded Bang Woo’s heart.
[Do not waver. You must judge calmly.]
Her voice had been so frail it was painful to hear.
And yet, even in that condition, Namgung Soyo had not lost her composure.
He had.
…An apology.
He had to apologize to her.
He knew he had no face to do so. But he had promised to return. More than anything, he wanted to confirm with his own eyes that she was truly safe.
“Senior Brother, are you all right? You look unwell. Shall I call a physician?”
Bang Woo shook his head and rose.
“Wait—Senior Brother! Where are you going? The physician said you were to lie still as if dead—Senior Brother!”
There was no time to waste lying in bed.
He had to grow stronger.
Stronger, and stronger, and stronger still—
Apologize to Namgung Soyo.
And find the butterfly.