An Unexpected Proposal
"..."
"..."
We stood in silence for a moment, our eyes locked.
Dang Ye-ran stared at me with eyes like glittering jewels.
Unable to hold her gaze any longer, I eventually looked away.
The silence stretched on.
Neither of us said a word as the seconds ticked by.
It was an incredibly uncomfortable moment for me.
After a brief pause,
a smile spread across Dang Ye-ran's face as she watched me.
"How did you know?"
"..."
She finally asked.
I had secretly hoped she would just let it slide, but it was a futile hope.
"...Know what?"
So, I played dumb for now.
"Oh, come on. You know exactly what."
As expected, it didn't work.
What should I do? Should I just bolt?
I tried to move my legs with that thought in mind, but—
Grab!
"...!"
Dang Ye-ran grabbed my forearm.
Oh, crap. Her grip was incredibly strong.
It definitely wasn't a grip I could break with raw strength alone.
"How did you know?"
She squeezed tighter as she spoke.
It was starting to actually hurt.
Barely holding back a grimace, I managed to speak.
"...Is that really so important?"
At my question of whether it was really that important, Dang Ye-ran's smile grew even wider.
"Of course it is. No one outside the clan is supposed to know."
"Oh... Is it some kind of secret that shouldn't be revealed?"
"Preferably, yes."
"Haha. I see."
Damn it. I really shouldn't have acted like I knew.
I forced a smile and wiped away a cold sweat.
Tsk.
I briefly wondered if I could wriggle out of this, but looking at Dang Ye-ran's eyes and the grip on my arm, the answer was clear.
She's not letting me go that easily.
She had absolutely no intention of letting go.
And where did she get this kind of strength anyway?
I glanced down at Dang Ye-ran's hand.
"Sigh..."
Letting out a low sigh, I slowly began to explain.
"You have calluses on your palms."
"Of course I do. I'm a martial artist too."
Being born into the Dang Clan, she was naturally a martial artist.
If so, it was only natural for her to have calluses on her hands.
"But you figured it out just from that? That's basically just a wild guess."
A hint of disappointment flashed in Dang Ye-ran's eyes.
Hey, if it's a guess, it's a guess. Why look so disappointed?
It was absurd, but I ignored it and continued.
"Right. You're a martial artist, so of course you have calluses."
I recalled the shape of her calluses as I spoke.
"But as far as I know, the Dang Clan doesn't use swords. Yet the calluses on your hands look like the kind you get from gripping a thick rod tightly."
Dang Ye-ran flinched at my words.
"Furthermore..."
I pointed toward the back of her hand and her arm.
"Calluses aside, martial artists don't usually have burn scars."
"...!"
Dang Ye-ran's eyes widened, and she looked down at her arm.
Most of it was covered by her long sleeves, but she couldn't hide the marks on the back of her hand.
And then...
"There's also the smell."
"...Pardon?"
Startled by my words, Dang Ye-ran sniffed herself.
The sound of her sniffing was exceptionally loud in the quiet air.
"Do I smell? I wash myself thoroughly, though...?"
"No, not body odor. I mean the smell of iron."
The distinct scent of metal.
Or perhaps the raw, metallic tang of intense heat.
The smell I had noticed the moment I arrived at the Dang Clan estate was particularly strong on her.
"And your unusually tanned skin."
Most martial artists of the Dang Clan had fair skin.
Dang Gyeong-ak and Dang Jun were like that, and the other martial artists I saw on the way were similar.
Whether it was due to their training in poison and hidden weapons or something else, they were all on the paler side, unlike Dang Ye-ran.
However, there were a few exceptions.
Those who weren't martial artists, watching us from a distance.
Those who were clearly blacksmiths had noticeably tanned skin.
Dang Ye-ran shared a striking resemblance to those blacksmiths.
Unusual calluses, minor burns, the smell of iron, and tanned skin.
And finally...
"Normally, people don't just rush at someone else's sword. But seeing your reaction, it seemed highly likely."
"..."
"Am I wrong?"
"Wow..."
Once I laid out all the evidence, the grip on my arm finally loosened.
Rustle.
She took a step back, stepping on a fallen twig.
"Haha."
Dang Ye-ran let out a soft laugh.
"...You're amazing. Since you're the successor of the Sword Saint, I didn't expect you to be like this."
"Do you know that old man... I mean, my master?"
"Is there any martial artist in the world who doesn't know the Sword Saint?"
"No, I mean your tone makes it sound like you've actually met him."
"Hmm..."
Dang Ye-ran pondered for a moment before replying.
"Just briefly, when I was very young."
Her eyes filled with nostalgia.
I nodded at her response.
"I see."
Considering her age, she must have been a mere child back then.
"I saw Elder Yoo when he came to visit my grandfather. The impression I got from him back then is quite different from the impression I get from you, Young Master."
"In what way?"
"...Elder Yoo was hot and intense. Very much so."
"Ah..."
That description hit close to home.
It was so accurate that no further explanation was needed.
"Then what about me?"
If Yoo Chun-gil was hot, what was I?
Curiosity got the better of me, and when I asked, Dang Ye-ran looked at me and replied,
"Cold."
Her eyes locked onto mine.
"And sharp."
It sounded like the exact opposite of Yoo Chun-gil. I let out a dry chuckle and asked,
"Is that a compliment?"
"Who knows? It's just an observation, neither a compliment nor an insult. I'm just surprised, that's all."
"Hmm."
She meant exactly what she said.
Just then,
"So, about that..."
Dang Ye-ran suddenly spoke with a suggestive expression. Seeing that, I remembered what I had forgotten.
Ah, right.
This woman had come to me because she wanted something.
Didn't she ask to see Man-wol?
She had desperately begged me to show it to her just once, claiming it was her lifelong wish and that she would do anything for it.
She had been so earnest about it.
...Hmm.
Man-wol, huh?
But was that even something I could show her just because I wanted to?
I've already left it with the Poison King.
It wasn't like I could just go and take it back.
Above all,
The very fact that she came to ask me...
It meant the Poison King wouldn't allow it.
Or rather, she had probably already failed to get his permission.
That was why she had come to me, the owner.
But in this situation, my hands are tied too.
If I agreed, I would be going against the Poison King's wishes. I couldn't afford to do that.
How should I reject her?
What would be the best way to say no?
After pondering for a moment, I made up my mind.
Why overthink it? I'll just reject her outright.
I just had to say no. There was no need to complicate things.
As I prepared my response with that thought in mind,
Dang Ye-ran spoke.
It was right at that moment.
"Would you like to marry me?"
"No."
"Huh?"
"...Pardon?"
"Why not?"
"No... wait, what?"
What did she just say...?
My brow furrowed at the completely unexpected proposal.
Clack—
Rattle, rattle!
Strange noises echoed through the dark, gloomy space.
The air was thick with moisture, carrying a deeply unpleasant and unsettling chill.
Deep within the winding, subterranean passage lay a single hidden chamber.
Stepping out of the darkness, a solitary lantern illuminated the interior of the room.
A long centipede crawled along the rough, uneven wall.
Wriggling as it made its way down, the centipede eventually dropped to the floor and began climbing up a chair placed in the center of the room.
Just as it reached the top—
Crunch!
A rough hand ruthlessly crushed the centipede to pieces.
Debris scattered across the floor, but the owner of the hand didn't seem to care about the bug guts staining his palm.
"So,"
the man said, suppressing his boiling rage.
"You just ran away from those Orthodox bastards?"
At the man's words, the figure kneeling before him trembled violently.
"T-That is... only the search party was left, so... Urgh!"
He tried to stammer out an excuse, but his mouth was instantly forced shut.
The crushing pressure radiating from the man choked the words right out of his throat.
"Is that the end of your excuses?"
"...C-Captain..."
"You failed to handle the job properly like an idiot, brought back zero information, and to top it all off, you turned your back and fled from those Orthodox bastards?"
Creeeeak—!
The man shattered the armrest of his chair with his bare hand and stood up.
Thud!
As he straightened his legs, his massive frame was revealed.
He was a giant, standing nearly eight feet tall.
The man curled his lips into a sneer in the darkness.
His yellowed teeth gleamed in the dim light.
"Ugh..."
Terrified, the kneeling man shivered and pleaded.
"B-But... Captain!"
He stammered, his voice shaking.
"As long as the restriction seal is active... they can't speak of it until they die. There is no way any information could reach their ears..."
"Ah-song..."
The giant grabbed the head of the kneeling man, Ah-song.
"Do you think I'm angry because I don't know that?"
"C-Captain!"
"If this continues, I won't have the face to meet the Palace Master."
They still hadn't gathered proper information.
Fortunately, the Dang Clan seemed to be in the same boat, but that was cold comfort.
They needed to find out before the others did, but remaining in the dark was a terrible sign.
"And to make matters worse, we haven't heard back from the guy we recruited in the Alliance."
Was he a guard captain?
He was quite a capable fellow, so the Palace Master had high expectations for him.
But his contact had been cut off recently. That was likely the case.
"He must have slipped up and gotten caught."
It was the Martial Alliance, after all.
And if it was Henan, then that monster—the Sect Leader of the Cheongwol Gate, known as the Guardian of Henan—was there.
They hadn't expected the mole to last forever, but still.
To think he'd get caught already.
That Sect Leader was indeed a monster.
Under these circumstances...
"And the ones who discovered you just had to be from the Cheongwol Gate?"
"..."
"Answer me."
"...Y-Yes..."
"What a strange coincidence. Don't you think?"
"Y-Yes..."
Splplat!
Before Ah-song could even finish his sentence, the giant crushed his skull.
Blood splattered, soaking the floor. The giant stepped right through the pool of blood as he walked forward.
The headless corpse slumped to the ground.
"Cheongwol Gate, huh?"
Even so, the giant didn't spare the body a single glance.
I heard they made contact with the Dang Clan.
An unexpected variable in their grand plan.
The bastards who clashed with them back then had traveled to meet the Dang Clan.
Squelch.
Stepping through the blood, the giant picked up a letter resting on a table.
It contained a detailed report of the recent events within the Dang Clan.
"Hmm."
He let out a low hum as he scanned the letter.
What are they plotting?
Why did the Cheongwol Gate and the Dang Clan meet?
The giant focused on that point.
Especially one detail.
They say the successor of the Sword Saint is there.
The successor and disciple of the Sword Saint, Yoo Chun-gil.
He was reported to be at the Dang Clan estate.
He had killed the Mountain River Ghost in Anhui, defeated the So-cheong Sword, and suddenly risen to prominence.
The loss of the Mountain River Ghost was quite regrettable.
He would have been a useful pawn if handled correctly.
But to die at the hands of a greenhorn who hasn't even reached adulthood?
What a useless insect.
Furthermore, the Palace Master had expressed doubts upon hearing the news.
How could a successor even exist?
It shouldn't be possible.
And for good reason.
Because the Palace Master personally disposed of the Sword Saint.
To ensure he left nothing behind.
The Palace Master had completely erased the Sword Saint's existence.
So how could he have left a successor?
The giant couldn't comprehend it.
"Hmph."
Snorting, he took another step forward.
The sneer remained fixed on his face.
"Actually, this is for the best."
If the Sword Saint's successor was there, it was a golden opportunity.
Whether he was the real deal or not, if there was any chance he would interfere with their plans...
"I'll just nip him in the bud while I have the chance."
The giant whispered quietly to himself.
"All for the Patheongung."
With those words, the giant vanished into the dark passage.
And...
The blue-eyed ghost watching the scene from the ceiling—
Yoo Chun-gil chuckled softly, finding the turn of events highly amusing.