Chapter 98
On the first day of their return to the Namgung Clan—
There were no children in the marketplace.
Some inns had closed for business. Others that remained open refused outsiders, and quarrels broke out from time to time.
The name of Salmak, long fading from memory, began to be spoken again.
On the second day—
Namgung Huimyeong, having finished his wall-facing training, heard the ominous rumors spreading through Anhui and across the Jianghu. He began visiting the Western Study more often than usual.
“Ha! To think Elder Brother took you all the way to Hangryong in that short time. I swear, I can never understand Jeok-myeong Hyung sometimes. Those damned assassins have reappeared—if you had been delayed even a little, who knows what might have happened!”
Only at dusk did Namgung Huimyeong finally notice that Seol Yeong’s face was grotesquely swollen.
“Hey, you insolent servant. Come with me. I cannot stand watching a dazed fool like you guard Soyo. Special training.”
“I am not a bodyguard but a servant…”
“Then why carry a sword? And where is Jin Daehyeop?”
“He will come soon. Probably.”
“Then come. Until he does, special training.”
“I said probably… I am going to die at this rate.”
Perhaps his wall-facing cultivation had borne fruit. Namgung Huimyeong personally oversaw Seol Yeong’s training.
On the third day—
Jin Cheong-ak returned.
And no sooner had he arrived than Namgung Jeok-myeong intercepted him.
“You may no longer serve as Soyo’s guard.”
“Why?”
“No clan keeps a demonic cultivator as escort.”
Namgung Jeok-myeong stood firmly between Yeo Il and Jin Cheong-ak, his expression resolute and cold.
“I see? Then…”
Jin Cheong-ak smiled faintly, tilted his head to meet Yeo Il’s gaze once, then looked back at Namgung Jeok-myeong.
“If I come instead as Jin Cheong-ak, Second Young Master of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, will you receive me?”
“……”
“That would be more appropriate, would it not? With the ominous banner of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult flying high, armored demonic soldiers at my back—just as at Hangryong—this Jin Cheong-ak would arrive, and Clan Head Namgung Je would open the gates—”
“Absolutely not.”
“—and cry aloud. That would be a sight. Hahaha. Conveniently, a few of my subordinates are nearby. I already look forward to how the Heavenly Demon will react upon hearing of this.”
“Ha…”
Rubbing his temples, Namgung Jeok-myeong spoke wearily.
“Very well. I will permit it. But on one condition. You will not roam freely inside or outside the clan. You will remain beside Soyo at all times.”
“Remain beside her? My own master lets me run free—who are you to—”
Before the argument could lengthen, Yeo Il called,
“Jin Cheong-ak.”
“Mm?”
“For now, behave quietly.”
For now would suffice.
His expression shifted subtly. He narrowed his eyes at her as though probing her intent.
Then he relaxed and shrugged.
“Well… if it is Miss Soyo’s command, what can a dog do but obey? I shall rest then.”
Namgung Jeok-myeong’s gaze followed Jin Cheong-ak into the room before returning to Yeo Il.
< I have made preparations. Come to Bukcheong tomorrow at sunset. >
Leaving that short message through sound transmission, he departed.
Three days. A long preparation.
What sort of copy required such time?
Though curious, she had other matters to settle.
Thud.
The door closed. Jin Cheong-ak collapsed onto her bed.
He must have traveled far, groaning like an ordinary man.
In truth, the most absurd thing was not him but herself—holding his leash yet constantly losing track of him and never knowing when he would return.
He poked her side idly.
“What is wrong, Miss Soyo? Is Young Master Huimyeong’s wall-facing training so impressive that you imitate him?”
Yeo Il considered.
Endure once more—or not.
Her decision was swift.
Shing—
She seized Chuhyeol Geomgwi’s sword from the corner and leveled it at Jin Cheong-ak’s throat.
Her cold face reflected in his dark eyes.
She compressed the irritation in her mind into a single command.
“Draw your sword.”
“…What?”
“Rise. Draw it.”
He blinked stupidly.
He looked between the blade and her face, then slowly rose.
“Yeo Il? Calm down. I understand why you are angry—”
“Do not call my name.”
“Fine, fine. Miss Soyo. Wait. Would you stop pressing that there? You are about to puncture my chin—”
She swung without hesitation.
He rolled off the bed and retreated, yet never reached for the sword at his waist.
She advanced, knocked aside a table with her sheath, and caught a box hidden beneath cloth.
“……”
His face hardened.
The box was the pentagonal black case containing Gao.
“For the last time. Draw your sword, Jin Cheong-ak.”
“You.”
“Kill me, and this box is yours. Or simply take it from me. If you have any sense, you will not miss this opportunity.”
“……”
He pushed back his hair and grimaced.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“…This is madness.”
She stepped closer.
“I swear upon my name. During the time I left—”
“Fled.”
“Fine. During that time I made no preparations to strike you from behind, nor any plans to obstruct you. You may trust me, Miss Yeo Il. If my name is insufficient, shall I swear upon the Jin Clan?”
“Why?”
He frowned.
“Why swear upon the clan?”
“Why did you not strike my back?”
A hollow laugh escaped him.
“You truly do not know?”
His gaze sharpened.
“Do you wish me to say it plainly? I doubt you do.”
His voice was gentle, but not kind.
“You have evaded it well until now. What changed?”
“……”
“Let me warn you—do not entertain foolish thoughts. Forget the Sal-saeng-bu; remember the old man’s strange dying wishes remain unfulfilled—”
“Enough. Spare me your nonsense. Do you take me for a fool? Did you think I would not know you have been searching for a way to kill the Yang Gu within your body?”