The Water Pirate's Relics
"It's a duel!"
"Come on! The unboxing isn't over yet!"
She'd had her fun with the earrings. Now the real show began. With all the jewels and gold stripped away, what remained were the truly dangerous items. The first was that pitch-black prosthetic leg.
"My lord, what is this?"
"Is it a prosthetic, sister?"
"It is, but you two don't need to worry about it. By the way, why did you suddenly change how you're speaking, Namgung?"
"...Calling you 'benefactor' felt awkward, and you seem older than me, so... Don't get the wrong idea!"
Ha-yeon let it slide. Only she knew what the prosthetic truly was—one of the Jisuseong that Geum Ra-geol had never managed to attach. She'd ground the rest of the limbs to dust and scattered them in the Yangtze. Unless they somehow revived, this was the last Jisuseong left in the world.
Yong Cheong and Namgung Ryeon tilted their heads in confusion, but neither of them knew about the Water Pirates, the Extreme Star Society, or the demons.
"You said this came from the Water Pirate King's vault, my lord?"
"Yep."
"Then it cannot be ordinary. The first thing that comes to mind is a prosthetic forged from rare metal like hancheol."
"No. My sword is made of hancheol. This is completely different."
"...Lady Sword Phoenix wields a hancheol blade at her age?"
"Father gave it to me. That's all."
Unfortunately, the prosthetic wasn't metal in the usual sense. It was metal, yes, but the moment it touched flesh it began transforming into something alive and sinister. The longer it was worn, the more it fused with the wearer—veins and skin merging until the two became one. Even in Ha-yeon's old world, such things were considered ill omens. This world would be no different. It was the very definition of a yomul, a demonic artifact.
What if Geum Ra-geol had abandoned all four limbs and attached every Jisuseong? The result would not have been pleasant. Destroying it had crossed her mind, but that felt wasteful too.
"Hmm. What should I do with this thing?"
"If you don't know, entrust it to the Namgung Clan's artisans, sister. They've handled every kind of metal their whole lives. They'll figure it out quickly."
"Maybe."
She was curious about its true nature herself. Sending a living-metal hybrid to a blacksmith who only worked with ordinary steel probably wouldn't yield much, but it was better than nothing. She wanted to know what the Jisuseong actually did.
They decided to hand the prosthetic over for investigation. Once the massive leg was removed, the box looked even emptier—yet somehow more valuable.
"Everything's packed separately."
The remaining items were stored in wooden cases, some wrapped in fine black sandalwood, others in silk. Ha-yeon felt a spark of anticipation. She picked the one that caught her eye and opened it.
Click.
A musty smell wafted out.
"It's a medicinal pill."
"An elixir, probably."
A single round pill sat neatly on folded silk. Ha-yeon felt a flicker of disappointment. Another pill? She'd already swallowed the Divine Doctor's special elixir, Geum Ra-geol's petroleum, and the Namgung Clan's second-best treasure, the Cheongso-dan. Was she going to turn into a doping scandal at this rate?
Any Murim expert who saw her casually popping century-old ginseng to break through bottlenecks would have cursed her out. She picked up the pill and examined it.
"Hmm."
"Do you recognize it, my lord?"
"How would I know? It smells a bit like dirt, though. Doesn't look tasty."
"W-wait. This might be... Hold on, sister."
Namgung Ryeon rushed out and returned moments later clutching a thick book titled Manmul Yeongyakbang—a compendium of spiritual medicines. She flipped through the pages with feverish excitement. Every martial artist lived with fantasies of rare elixirs, after all. Even Ha-yeon, who had already devoured three legendary treasures, understood the allure.
Come to think of it, my body does feel better after eating all that good stuff.
Thanks to the finest ingredients and relentless training, her once-crippled body had long since transformed into that of a proper martial artist. In just a few months she had reached the Jeoljeong realm—balanced in qi, meridians, and external arts. The entire Murim would have been shocked at the speed. It would have been impossible without those three miraculous elixirs.
While flipping through the book, Namgung Ryeon suddenly gasped.
"Aah!"
"Namgung, were you always this kind of character? Your personality's been changing since earlier."
"Th-this! This!"
"What's wrong, Lady Namgung...? Hrk!"
Ha-yeon smiled faintly. These two really had been acting strange. Their reaction meant only one thing: the item was extraordinary. She felt a small thrill at pulling an ultra-rare drop.
"Hey, stop dragging it out. What is it?"
"This! It's the Shaolin's So-hwan-dan, sister!"
"Is that good?"
"The Dae-hwan-dan is one of the greatest elixirs under heaven. It's normally kept within the temple. If even one leaked out, the One Hundred and Eight Arhats would descend to retrieve it."
"Oh."
Ha-yeon's lips curved upward.
"The So-hwan-dan is made from the leftover ingredients after crafting the Dae-hwan-dan."
Her smile collapsed. So it was basically leftover scraps pressed into a pill. Even someone with her voracious appetite for treasures found the idea of eating what amounted to kitchen scraps unappealing. The muddy-brown pellet looked especially unappetizing when she thought of it as someone else's leftovers.
She picked up the dirt-colored pill with a bored expression. Even Yong Cheong gazed at it with a hint of longing, but Ha-yeon felt nothing. The energy inside was dense, yet she'd already consumed far stronger medicines. The efficiency would be mediocre at best.
"Slave."
"Yes."
"Open your mouth."
"Why are you—mmph!"
The pill flicked from her fingers and shot straight down Yong Cheong's throat before he could chew.
"M-my lord! The So-hwan-dan! It went into my mouth!"
"Eat it."
"But I haven't done anything to deserve—!"
"You want me to make you spit it back up? Get stronger so you can at least protect Oh-ryeong and Yuk-ryeong."
Yong Cheong had already suffered plenty because of her recently. Even Ha-yeon felt a twinge of conscience. Besides, if he grew strong enough, he could guard the twins while she dealt with real threats. A mere Cho-jeoljeong shouldn't be able to threaten the children—if he couldn't manage that, he had no business being her slave.
Yong Cheong swallowed the pill, hesitated, then retreated to a corner and sat in meditation, eyes closed, palms on his knees. Ha-yeon stared at him in disbelief.
"What are you doing?"
"Sister, wait. Even though the So-hwan-dan is gentle and harmonious, its energy is still potent. This is normal."
"Is it really that serious? Can't you just eat it and digest it?"
"You're the weird one! Don't you remember how shocked Father was when you swallowed the Cheongso-dan without even sitting down to meditate? He sent you straight to the medical hall!"
"What's the big deal about taking medicine? Tsk. Pathetic slave."
"You're the strange one! And why do you keep calling the Blue Dragon 'slave' in the first place—"
It was nothing serious. Yong Cheong was simply too weak and needed time to digest. Ha-yeon, who had fed him the pill without a second thought, had already forgotten about it.
She turned back to the box with a click of her tongue. The haul was underwhelming. Priceless jewels, the So-hwan-dan, and a living prosthetic that could only be called a demonic artifact. Truly disappointing, Geum Ra-geol. The only useful thing was the prosthetic, and even that was more interesting than helpful.
She doubted the remaining cases held anything better than leftover scraps. Two wooden boxes left. She reached for them, then paused as an old promise resurfaced.
"...Namgung."
"Yes, sister."
"Is the So-hwan-dan extremely expensive?"
"Yes."
"Those treasures too—same thing?"
"Why are you asking something so obvious?"
"Are they priceless artifacts?"
"Well, the So-hwan-dan and the Budongmyeongwanggyeong certainly are. Especially the Budongmyeongwanggyeong—it's one of the secret texts of Esoteric Buddhism. Its value is immeasurable. I have no idea how it ended up in the Central Plains, let alone with the Water Pirate King."
Ah, shit. She still had a debt to pay.
"Why do you ask?"
"...No reason."
The debt document. She had promised to bring treasures in exchange for the medicine she'd devoured. The memory hit her like a headache.
"Ha. No. Ha."
"Sister, are you all right?"
"No. Yeah."
The Divine Doctor didn't accept martial manuals, so Geum Ra-geol's techniques were out. The expensive treasures had already been gifted to the twins—she couldn't take toys away from children. She couldn't exactly make Yong Cheong vomit up the pill either.
Ha-yeon stared at the ceiling in despair.
Am I an idiot? At least I remembered now... or is it too late?
She opened the last two boxes, praying the So-hwan-dan had been the weakest item inside.
Click.
"This is..."
"Not an elixir, sister?"
"What the hell is this?"
Inside were a bird-shaped statue and an unidentifiable bracelet. The jade-inlaid bracelet was pretty enough, but why store it in a sealed wooden case when far more beautiful ornaments had been tossed in loose? There had to be something special about them. She just didn't know what.
"Tch."
Her excitement deflated. These didn't look nearly as impressive as the So-hwan-dan. Truly priceless treasures usually caused an uproar the moment their identity was revealed. Since these hadn't, they were probably just ordinary antiques. Still, she tucked them into her pocket. They might be relics from some ancient dynasty—historical value could make them valuable yet.
She shoved the rest into her sleeves and stared at the now-empty box.
"Damn it."
She kicked the box in frustration. The entire fortune of the man who had once controlled the Yangtze's trade routes was this disappointing? The so-called Water Pirate King? His entire wealth amounted to this?
The only remotely promising item left was the Jisuseong prosthetic, and even that felt ominous to carry around. Maybe she should melt it down and forge it into a sword. She was getting tired of mass-produced blades anyway. Who knew? It might awaken as an ego sword.
She had gained wealth instead of the martial arts she wanted, and even that wealth had been mostly given away, leaving her with only ambiguous items.
"This is just how my life is."
She wasn't the type to obsess over money anyway. It was trivial.
No, fuck that—it wasn't trivial at all. Not when she had a debt hanging over her head.
"Shit. That broke-ass Geum Ra-geol. Water bandit bastard."
If Geum Ra-geol could hear her, he would have laughed in disbelief. He'd given her petroleum, the So-hwan-dan, countless treasures, and demonic artifacts, yet she was still complaining.
"Aigoo."
"Where are you going, husband?"
"Where are you going?"
"Just going to look around the Namgung estate for a bit. Is that all right, Namgung? This place is huge and there's even a pond. Mind if I wander?"
"Ah, well... People will stop you if you enter restricted areas, so it should be fine. Want company?"
"That wouldn't be bad, but..."
Her gaze fell on Yong Cheong, still meditating in the corner. The energy he emitted was pure and strong, yet he was stuck digesting a single pill. She couldn't wake him, and someone needed to stand guard.
"Watch the slave for a while. It'll be safer if you're the one beside him rather than me."
"Ah, right. The Blue Dragon suddenly started digesting the So-hwan-dan, after all... More importantly, sister."
"Yeah?"
"I've been letting it slide, but... the way you two address each other is a bit strange, isn't it?"
"Is there a problem?"
Ha-yeon thought for a moment, then looked at the twins, now covered head to toe in jewels and gold.
"Have I been calling you strangely, girls?"
"No, husband."
"It's always been like this, husband."
Namgung Ryeon pressed a hand to her forehead. She wanted to scream that that was the problem, but she held back, worried the clan head might overhear. Still, the sight of Ha-yeon's eccentric behavior struck her as the charming quirk of a powerful, beautiful woman. The bean pod had already been placed over her eyes.
She swallowed her inner voice and sat down.
"Haah... Understood, sister."
"But are you going to keep using formal speech or switch to casual? Why do you keep changing?"
"I'm still not used to it."
"Just speak casually. It suits you better. What's with the unnecessary formality?"
"Sister...!"
"It's cuter when you're sharp-tongued."
"..."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Half a day passed—though it hadn't been long at all. Yong Cheong was still suffering from indigestion after eating what amounted to leftover scraps. Namgung Ryeon and the twins played nearby, supposedly keeping watch but mostly using the excuse to try on cosmetics and ornaments. Namgung Ryeon's expression as she played with the children was a work of art.
Half a day was enough time to tour the Namgung estate and deliver the prosthetic to the clan artisans for examination. After wandering the grounds and taking a nap in the pavilion by the pond, Ha-yeon rubbed her eyes and stood up. Not because she was hungry.
Because a guest had arrived.
"Ah, so now I'm the guest?"
In someone else's house, it made sense that the owner would come to her. She unrolled herself from the robe she'd been using as a sleeping bag, stretched, picked up her fallen sword, and asked,
"Clan Head. What brings you here?"
"I came because you are my daughter's benefactor. And because you are still, technically, a guest of the Namgung Clan."
"Yeah. Ask away."
"Where did you obtain this?"
In his hand was the large, crude prosthetic leg—the quartered remains of the Jisuseong she had entrusted to the Namgung artisans.
Ha-yeon smiled and drew her sword, then tossed it into the pond with a splash. Namgung Jeong's eyes sharpened the moment the blade left its sheath, but his expression twisted when she spoke while holding only the empty scabbard.
"Anyway, since you're Namgung's father, how about we have a friendly duel? The loser answers one question honestly."
"This lord is not joking right now."
"Neither am I. If you want answers, bring some drinks or drop the disrespectful tone."
Namgung Jeong did not summon his subordinates despite his fierce aura. He had no need for them. He was the kind of master who found weaklings more of a hindrance than a help.
Yes. A duel with a man like this was far more valuable than any second-rate elixir.
"Clan Head. Let's duel. The loser answers whatever the winner asks—honestly."