Sword of Power (1)
At some point, even the screams and the clanging of metal as swords collided faded into silence. A profound quiet settled in, deep enough to hear the cry of a night heron perched on a branch and the chirp of crickets in the grass.
What... what happened?
The eunuch, who had been huddled on the floor praying for this hellish ordeal to end, finally lifted his head. All sounds had ceased. As if those horrific noises from outside had been mere illusions, the world outside fell still after the final death rattle of the dying men.
"Your Highness."
With a crash, the half-shattered door burst open under force, and a man covered head to toe in blood thrust his face inside. His clothes were in tatters, his body bearing grievous wounds, but the warrior's eyes gleamed fiercely as he stepped into the chamber.
"Are you unharmed?"
His legs wobbling unsteadily, he forced himself forward and asked after Liu Xie's well-being. Blood smeared his face too, making it hard to see clearly, but she recognized Lee Seong-hwi's voice.
"Captain of the Imperial Guard, what of the fiends outside?"
A palace maid, clutching Liu Xie protectively like a mother bird shielding her chick from predators, posed the question. Lee Seong-hwi replied.
"Some remnants fled... but those who plotted to assassinate Your Highness have mostly been dealt with."
He let out a deep sigh, leaning against the wall. His injuries were no trifles. He'd avoided vital spots, but leaving them untreated would only make things worse.
Liu Xie sprang to her feet at the sight. Ignoring the maids' attempts to hold her back, she toddled over to Lee Seong-hwi, arms outstretched, inspecting his body.
"Y-your wounds are severe..."
"I'm fine."
"You can't be! Don't hide it—tell me how bad it is!"
Liu Xie feigned anger at his curt dismissal, snapping at him. Surprised by her genuine concern, Lee Seong-hwi bit his lip, gazing at the princess.
"Might I trouble you for some bandages, then?"
"Wait right there!"
At his request, Liu Xie answered in a frantic voice, turning to the maids. Her eyes commanded them to fetch bandages and salves at once for urgent treatment.
At her cry, the palace servants—still trembling in fear—finally jumped into action.
"Aaaargh!!!"
The eunuch who stepped outside screamed. Trembling, he slid open the paper-screen door and collapsed on his rear with a wail that tore at his throat.
"Urk!!"
He doubled over and began retching violently. The other eunuchs fared no better. The door had revealed a nightmarish sea of corpses and blood.
Blood pooled everywhere, strewn with the mutilated bodies of the slain. Severed heads lay where they'd rolled from necks, and some corpses had spines twisted at grotesque angles. Over thirty assassins lay cold, slaughtered by a single warrior.
"Urp!!"
Even the maids inside clutched their mouths, fighting nausea. The stench of iron-rich blood assaulted their noses, a fishy reek that numbed the senses.
The palace servants shuddered in terror. Had Lee Seong-hwi not intervened, they would have been the stars of that infernal tableau. The gruesome sight drove home the shadow of death that had loomed over the princess's residence—and their own miraculous survival.
"I-I'm sorry... It's because of me that you..."
Liu Xie's voice cracked with sobs as she probed Lee Seong-hwi's wounds with both hands. Her pale fingers stained crimson, she wept from guilt, knowing she and her servants had nearly died because of her.
If I weren't here. If I didn't exist. If I'd died back then... None of this tragedy, this crisis, would have happened.
Convinced her very presence invited calamity, plunging everyone into mortal peril, Liu Xie poured out her pent-up anguish, apologizing profusely to the bloodied swordsman.
"I'm glad you're safe."
Lee Seong-hwi spoke with heartfelt relief that the young princess had survived. He lacked the words to comfort her properly. He didn't know how to soothe a crying woman. To the little princess weeping openly, he offered only sincere, concise words: that she was safe, and it was a relief.
"Eep...!"
The little princess threw herself into his arms. As the small, squirrel-like girl burrowed in, Lee Seong-hwi let out a startled grunt.
Blood soiled her fine robes. The elegant garment, embroidered with butterflies and flowers in threads of molten gold, now absorbed crimson stains. He tried to push her away gently, but her arms clamped tight around him, refusing to budge.
"Your robes will be ruined."
"I don't care!"
Overwhelmed by emotion, she ignored his concern. Seeing her tiny hands clutch his sleeve fiercely, Lee Seong-hwi gave a wry smile.
A pleasant fragrance wafted from her. Each brush of her soft golden hair against his cheek brought the cozy scent of sun-dried blankets.
"How could I care about soiled robes when expressing my gratitude to the one who saved me? It means nothing to me."
Warmth emanated from the princess in his arms. It contrasted sharply with the reek of death, a gentle heat no cold steel could match.
* * *
When was the last time his palms had sweated this much from tension? When he offered his sister to the Ten Attendants? No, not even then.
Nor during the Yellow Turban Rebellion, when as Governor of Henan he received the emperor's decree appointing him Supreme Commander to crush the rebels—and elevating him to Grand General atop the military. Even that hadn't gripped him so fiercely.
He remembered trembling like a summer cicada.
I, utterly lacking in military talent... was granted the emperor's favor and made Grand General. When the reformist scholars all recommended Huangfu Song, His Majesty insisted on me alone. With orders to purge the scoundrels deceiving and threatening the Han imperial house and court.
In the pitch-black predawn, He Jin waited by a single lantern, desperate for news. That the assassins had struck the princess's residence and slain Bohai Princess Liu Xie.
Sleep eluded him even in bed, so he lay awake through the night, yearning for glad tidings from her quarters.
Why is it taking so long? It's just killing an eight-year-old girl! Like all those rivals we've eliminated before—hurry up and report success! What are they dawdling for?!
Impatience turned to frustration, anxiety to irritable fury, furrowing his brow.
Bring the news soon. That you've slain Bohai Princess, our crown prince's greatest rival. That we'll never worry about her again. Tell me, the Han Grand General!
It must have succeeded by now. She's plotting her return after the deed. I'm just too worked up. With those seasoned killers all deployed, how could they fail against one little princess?
He Jin rose and slid open the paper door, stepping out. He headed to the small garden at the heart of the Grand General's compound—the pond with its koi, the beds of rare flowers.
Whenever worries plagued him, he paced the garden to shake them off. This time too, he circled it, trying to dispel the gnawing unease.
"Grand General!"
A sharp cry shattered the early dawn silence. Provost Marshal Zhang Zhang raced over with his officers. He Jin's face registered shock.
Only he, his sister, and retainer Wu Guang—who first planned the deed—knew of this plot. Zhang Zhang, a longtime officer here, was in the dark. Why was he rushing in now?
"Vicious assassins struck the princess's residence! Word just came from there!"
"Th-the princess's residence...!"
He Jin's eyes trembled as he awaited the rest. He needed her fate. He'd expected the report from Wu Guang, who commanded the killers, but it came from Zhang Zhang instead.
"Her Highness Bohai Princess is unharmed."
"Wh-what...? Is that true? Unharmed?"
"Yes."
At the report that Liu Xie had survived the assault, He Jin's face twisted viciously. He struggled to compose himself, but the void of failure overwhelmed him. Elite killers, all handpicked by Wu Guang—deployed in full force—yet they failed against an eight-year-old girl? Unbelievable.
"A guard captain named Lee Seong-hwi hunted down the intruders single-handedly."
"...And who is that?"
"The warrior who earned the greatest merit suppressing Jian Shi's rebellion. The one who dragged Geonseok from the flames when he tried to immolate himself..."
He Jin raised his hand, silencing Zhang Zhang. He waved them off dismissively.
What the hell happened?! Failure? They couldn't kill an eight-year-old?! Those demons blocked by one man?!
Summoning superhuman restraint, he swallowed a roar of rage. He had to. Act as if nothing was amiss. As Grand General—soon the emperor's uncle—he was the loyal minister duty-bound to rage at this "assassination attempt."
He couldn't show open fury or target the guard captain outright. Pretend nonchalance... no, feign outrage. As Han Grand General, vow to root out those who dared strike the palace and target Bohai Princess.
I'll kill you, you bastard...!!
Yet the gut-wrenching fury defied control.