Chapter 6
Chapter 6
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Encounter
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Jeong-a was hurrying along the "back path" toward Won-gak Pavilion, the Eldest Young Master's residence.
The back path referred to the route meant for those of low status or position.
From lines of ox carts fully loaded with grain sacks, to maids traveling in small groups while chattering away, to sturdy-looking men hurrying along with boxes slung over their shoulders.
Aside from the lack of loud hawking merchants or hordes of beggars, there was no difference from the bustling market streets outside.
This procession of countless people moving with purpose and haste could truly be called the lifeblood of the colossal giant known as the Luoyang Sword Clan.
Jeong-a was walking through the shadows along the base of the walls, draped in a long robe.
“Hey, look over there. She’s stunningly pretty.”
“Hey, you fool. Avert your eyes. She looks like nobility—don’t go inviting trouble!”
“Y-yeah, you’re right. But what’s a highborn lady doing on the back path?”
“What makes you think ignorant slobs like us would know?”
“No, I just…”
Two servants off in the distance were gossiping about her beauty peeking out from beneath the robe.
In the clamor of the back path, it was a conversation no ordinary person could overhear.
But their words were "visible" to Jeong-a.
The movements of their lips, the rolling of their eyeballs, their subtle gestures—they all vividly conveyed the exchange.
And they weren’t the only ones. Everyone Jeong-a had passed so far had filtered through her "eyes."
’Good. Changing clothes was the right call. No one’s tailing me.’
It was hard to imagine the Second Young Master or Third Young Master assigning watchers to a mere maid like her, but Jeong-a didn’t let her guard down.
Not until she was under the Eldest Young Master’s roof.
Her position was like azalea seeds on a spring breeze—helplessly at the mercy of the wind.
Ignoring the familiar glances stealing peeks at her beauty and figure as always, she quickened her pace.
* * *
After walking for a long stretch, then walking some more, she finally reached her destination.
’This is Won-gak Pavilion…?’
Jeong-a felt a shock upon arriving at the base of Won-gak Pavilion’s walls.
She had long heard about the immense scale of this space, reserved solely for the Eldest Young Master in the farthest corner of the Luoyang Sword Clan.
But seeing it firsthand was another matter entirely.
Walls stretched endlessly in both directions, and beyond them loomed trees soaring to impossible heights, forming a dense forest.
’I can’t even tell where it ends…’
The sheer size was impossible to gauge even with her "eyes," confirming that among the residential areas of the renowned Luoyang Sword Clan, this was easily one of the largest.
’But why is it so deserted?’
Just moments ago, the back path had evoked the bustle of a marketplace, growing quieter the closer she got to Won-gak Pavilion—until now, it was filled with an astonishing silence.
No exaggeration.
It wasn’t merely sparse. There was literally no one.
Not even the usual servants hauling ingredients.
A lesson from the reception hall master flashed through Jeong-a’s mind.
’Jeong-a, every family’s the same. Want to gauge their wealth? Look at their back path.’
By that logic, Won-gak Pavilion’s coffers had run dry.
’…I knew that much.’
Swallowing hard, Jeong-a pressed on.
After following the wall for some time, she stepped onto the main road leading to the front gate.
Unlike the back path, the main road was reserved for guests, warriors, and other important figures of the Sword Clan.
’Jeong-a, want to sense a family’s power? Look at their front gate.’
For the first time since arriving at the Sword Clan that fateful day, Jeong-a saw the Luoyang Sword Clan’s main road utterly empty of passersby.
’Even if the Eldest Young Master’s in seclusion, I never imagined it was this bad…’
Until now, she had sneered behind the backs of those who badmouthed the Eldest Young Master.
But confronting the reality herself, she could no longer mock them so easily.
The only signs of life were a scant handful of guards posted at the front gate.
And they appeared to be leaning against the wall, napping.
The sight of them scrambling awkwardly to attention upon spotting her wasn’t even amusing.
“Uh, uh. What’s your business here?”
Jeong-a swallowed a sigh at the guard’s response, his drowsiness plain as day.
“I’ve come on the Housekeeper Chief’s orders.”
Rather than elaborate, she simply presented the Housekeeper Chief’s directive.
“Housekeeper Chief?”
At the words, the squad leader—who had been stifling a yawn from behind—hurried forward and took the document.
As the squad leader scrutinized it carefully, Jeong-a swallowed another inward sigh.
The grand front gate, built to accommodate carriages smoothly, was utterly neglected.
The paint had peeled away, with patches rusted through to the point where it was hard to believe this was a Sword Clan facility.
And the walls she had passed along the way?
Towering vertiginously high, yet clearly patched haphazardly with mortar where they had crumbled.
Tiles, shattered who-knew-when, lay abandoned without care, tightening her chest with unease.
’…Was choosing the Eldest Young Master a mistake?’
At this hour, the front gates of the Second Young Master’s or Third Young Master’s offices would be lined with opulent carriages and figures clad in costly silks, awaiting entry permits.
And manning those gates would be their direct warriors, subtly radiating presence while performing their duties with crisp precision.
Qualitatively different from these pitiful guards napping on the job…
At that moment, chills erupted across Jeong-a’s nape.
It felt as though multiple blades had grazed her body.
She managed to stifle her scream because—
It was a sensation she had experienced many times before.
’Qi sense!’
That was it.
It was a form of qi wave projected by those whose internal energy had reached a certain realm.
And the origin of that wave was undoubtedly the very guards she had dismissed as pathetic.
’These guys…! They’re no ordinary guards! They’re masters!’
They had substituted a body search with their qi waves.
Did she possess internal energy?
Was she concealing weapons?
Hiding murderous intent?
Naturally, no ordinary maid would sense such a wave, so Jeong-a focused on maintaining her composure.
’Of course it’s natural.’
Cold sweat trickled down her nape.
’No matter how scorned the Eldest Young Master may be, he’s still the Sword Clan’s rightful heir.’
It was absurd to think the entrance to his dwelling would be guarded by mere non-martial sentries.
Just then, the guard squad leader—disguised master who had finished reviewing the directive—approached her.
“Directive verified.”
He returned it with the same courtesy as when he received it.
Jeong-a barely controlled her trembling fingertips as she accepted it and tucked it away.
“Lads, open the gate for her.”
As Jeong-a passed through the front gate, the squad leader’s voice followed.
“Ah, now that I think about it, I nearly forgot to mention.”
She turned back, and he spoke in a calm tone, as if it were nothing.
“Absolutely do not stray from the forest path.”
Though she had no idea what he meant, Jeong-a nodded to him and continued on.
Once she appeared sufficiently distant, one of the guards let out a snicker and shook his head.
“Won-gak Pavilion’s new maid, huh? What does the Swordless One even need a new maid for?”
“I’m not entirely sure myself, but aren’t maids essential for important figures who handle ‘outside matters’?”
In response, another guard traced her figure in the air with a gesture, chuckling slyly.
“The Swordless One without a ‘sword’—he’ll just have to watch it squirm, won’t he?”
Roaring laughter echoed outward.
’As expected…’
Overhearing from afar, Jeong-a bit her lip.
By her reckoning, the contempt directed at the Eldest Young Master within the Sword Clan varied in degree.
It was especially pronounced among the warriors who revered the martial arts.
If wealth and force were the two pillars upholding the Sword Clan, then the Eldest Young Master—branded the Swordless One—had already lost one pillar entirely.
Even these masters capable of qi sense were merely guarding his gate out of duty.
Not one showed any sign of true loyalty.
’…It’s a long road ahead.’
Even assuming the Housekeeper Chief was right about the Eldest Young Master turning over a new leaf, what could he possibly accomplish?
“......!”
And then it hit her.
She was standing at the heart of a formation vaster and denser than any she had ever witnessed.
’The forest! These trees—no, the entire forest—is forming the array!’
Her "eyes" revealed the formation with crystal clarity.
She had "seen" formations before.
From simple ones designed to disorient unwanted guests, to the bloodthirsty, lethal arrays bristling at defensive outposts for emergencies.
But none among them possessed the horrific density of the one before her now.
The array itself seemed poised to crush a person like an insect merely upon being seen.
Save for one exception.
Every area except the single path she had followed appeared pitch black.
Even with her "eyes," she dared not attempt to decipher it.
’Absolutely do not stray from the forest path.’
She finally understood the squad leader’s warning.
And she realized something else.
Just like those guard-clad masters at the front gate.
This nightmarish formation was the same.
She was now approaching one of the core figures of this colossal clan that dominated the continent with its might.
No matter how he was ignored or despised.
He was the Eldest Young Master of this house.
And her vision began to flicker.
The forest appeared, then the formation, then her sight brightened only to darken again, repeating endlessly.
And there—he, the Eldest Young Master—stood before her.
“You’re quite the peculiar one.”
He spoke to Jeong-a from the middle of the forest path, where he stood with ethereal grace.
His voice resembled a boy’s at times, a young man’s at others; a beast’s howl, or perhaps a demon’s shriek.
“How are you seeing Won-gak Pavilion’s barrier?”
He—it—thrust his deathly pale face toward her, cocking his head.
His eye sockets gaped hollow, as if gouged out by hand, linked straight to Avici Hell.
From that abyss flowed tears of blood mingled with yellow pus.
“And how are you ‘seeing’ me?”
It peered into her through those empty sockets, yet her "eyes" could perceive nothing clearly, comprehend nothing at all.
It was a "thing" that could not be seen.
A "thing" that must never be seen.
“Agh!”
With a sharp cry, her consciousness snapped away.