Chapter 22
The Road to the Imperial Palace
Zhao Army Camp.
The leader of the Blood Demons listened to his subordinate’s report, nodding silently.
The report dragged on for quite some time.
“After investigating through multiple channels, we’ve confirmed that aside from the Hebei Peng Clan, there are no other martial factions within the Yan army camp.”
“You’re certain of this information?”
“Yes, absolutely certain.”
A cold smile spread across the leader’s lips.
“If the Hebei Peng Clan is all they have, this battle will be far duller than expected.”
“Indeed. We should be able to crush them easily in the opening clash.”
Sinking deep into his chair, the Blood Demon leader’s eyes gleamed.
“Recovering the stronghold is important, but even more crucial is finding the Crown Prince’s secret funds hidden somewhere here. Only by uncovering that can we depose him. Remember—this war is nothing but a diversion to keep the Grand Marshal’s attention elsewhere.”
“We’re gathering intel around the Grand Marshal. We’ll soon discover it. If it comes to it, we may have to force the Grand Marshal to speak himself.”
“That wouldn’t be a bad option.”
The leader gave another cold laugh.
“For now, our true objective must remain hidden from the Grand Marshal. Which means we must cut off the Crown Prince’s communication entirely.”
“Understood.”
It was about twenty li (around 8 miles) from the Yan stronghold to the Zhao army camp.
Yi Hwan and Cheol Mu-ok emerged from the dense mountains into gentler terrain, moving swiftly with their lightness techniques.
Cheol Mu-ok moderated his pace. He was curious.
Is this his full speed?
Still doubting Yi Hwan’s martial strength, the question was only natural.
After some time, distant lights came into view. The glow illuminated a vast area, with tall watchtowers scattered about.
Reaching the outskirts of the camp, the two halted.
“Shall we go in?”
“This isn’t where we’re headed.”
“Pardon?”
“Follow me. You’ll see soon enough.”
Yi Hwan set off again. Cheol Mu-ok followed, frowning.
So this isn’t reconnaissance? He had another purpose all along?
Soon, Yi Hwan darted into the woods stretching southwest from the Zhao camp.
After traveling for quite a while, they reached a rocky mountain.
Yi Hwan pulled something from his robe—a map stolen by Cha Jung-gyeong.
“What’s this?”
“Looks like the Zhao Grand Marshal hid something here… We need to find out what.”
“It’s not a military map. Could this be a Treasure Map?”
“We’ll know once we find it.”
In truth, Yi Hwan had already handed Peng Mu-wi a fake map days earlier. Since the real goal had only been to lure Cheol Mu-ok out, there was no chance of being exposed.
“Can you read maps?”
“I studied them in my youth.”
“Good. Then quickly find the location marked by these red dots.”
“Yes.”
They searched carefully.
But the terrain was so uniform that distinguishing features wasn’t easy.
“If it is a treasure site, wouldn’t guards be stationed here?”
“Guards would only draw attention. Hiding something in such a remote place would be meaningless then. Unless there are traps, there won’t be guards.”
The reasoning made sense. Cheol Mu-ok nodded.
“Move.”
“Yes.”
They continued searching.
Before long, Yi Hwan’s eyes lit up.
There it is!
A spot matching the red mark on the map appeared.
“Follow me.”
Yi Hwan quickly approached.
At the base of a cliff, dense trees concealed a small cave just wide enough for a man to crawl through.
“This must be it. But as you said, there could be mechanisms.”
“Then we’ll have to check.”
Yi Hwan looked at him.
Cheol Mu-ok pointed to himself, eyes wide.
“Me… alone?”
“You’re the master here, aren’t you?”
“……”
Bang! Crash! Boom!
Loud noises burst from inside the cave. Eventually, a sweaty Cheol Mu-ok stumbled out.
“All traps dismantled.”
“Well done.”
Yi Hwan entered.
A heavy iron gate blocked the path deeper inside, secured by two massive locks thick as a man’s arm.
“Break it.”
“Yes.”
Cheol Mu-ok drew his sword, infusing it with inner power.
The blade shone with pure azure light, transforming into the Dao form of his clan’s secret art.
So he’s inherited Mu-gwang’s true legacy.
The glow made Yi Hwan think of the Blade King Cheol Mu-gwang—once invincible until his draws against the Sword King and Poison King left him despondent.
“Stand back a little.”
Yi Hwan stepped aside.
Clang! Clang!
With two strikes, the locks shattered.
Inside, to their surprise, there was only a small chest. Nothing else.
That’s it?
Cheol Mu-ok’s face betrayed disappointment.
“We’ll take it anyway.”
“Yes.”
He hefted the chest onto his shoulder.
“Heavier than it looks. Should we open it here?”
“This is enemy territory. Better to leave quickly.”
Yi Hwan stepped out first.
Cheol Mu-ok glanced around one last time, but found nothing else of value.
Back at their quarters, Yi Hwan dismissed all but Cheol Mu-ok before opening the chest.
Suddenly, the room lit up like daylight.
A massive pearl glowed brilliantly inside.
Cheol Mu-ok gasped.
“A Night-Pearl that size… incredible.”
Ignoring it, Yi Hwan picked up something else.
Cheol Mu-ok’s eyes bulged.
“A Cat’s Eye Stone!”
Indeed, it was a flawless myeoanseok. And that wasn’t all—there were other radiant gems, fist-sized gold ingots, and several thumb-sized diamonds.
A fortune…
Converted into silver, the sum was astronomical.
Yi Hwan closed the chest with a snap.
Cheol Mu-ok asked cautiously,
“When will you depart for the Imperial Palace?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“We’re going too?”
“Of course. Since things are as they are, going to the capital to find a way to track down the wanderer isn’t a bad idea.”
“Yes! That will do perfectly.”
“Get some rest.”
“Yes. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Later, Yi Hwan lay on his bed.
The Imperial Palace…
The very thought gave him a headache. In this body’s memories, the palace had been nothing short of hell, with only rare moments of happiness.
Now, he had to return.
A hollow laugh escaped.
“Seems I won’t live a peaceful life in this one either.”
The next morning, Yi Hwan boarded a carriage and left camp.
Song Hoe and the others accompanied him.
Generals saw him off, while Hwang Ho and Jeong Cheon remained at camp, wary of unpredictable changes.
An escort joined them—a messenger from the palace.
Hwang Ho said,
“The road to the palace is long. You should take more guards.”
“No. Keep them here to strengthen our defenses against Zhao.”
“…As you command. Please take care, Great General.”
Yi Hwan departed.
The rough roads slowed the carriage. Inside, he sat calmly, focused on his cultivation. Song Cheon-mu and Cha Jung-gyeong followed at the rear.
Song Cheon-mu thought of his family in the capital, smiling faintly.
They’ll think I’ve been banished, returning so soon.
Still, he was glad. Only the grim-faced palace messenger kept him from relaxing.
He eyed Yi Hwan.
The Great General endured endless scorn in the palace. Yet despite the Crown Prince’s collapse, he seems far too composed…
At that moment, Cha Jung-gyeong hummed a tune.
The messenger’s sharp gaze silenced him immediately. Song Cheon-mu, too, forced his expression solemn.
Soon, the official highway appeared, and the carriage picked up speed.
The city marketplace.
Yi Hwan entered the largest, most lavish inn, ablaze with lanterns like a giant flower.
The inn bustled with people.
Though Yi Hwan’s party entered together, their plain clothes drew no attention.
Song Hoe requested private rooms for his lord.
“Three guest rooms and a quiet chamber, please.”
“There are no vacancies.”
“Surely some will check out soon? This is a noble guest!”
“Most only arrived recently. It’ll be a long wait.”
Yi Hwan spoke.
“Then just seat us anywhere.”
“There’s an empty table upstairs.”
They went up. Even the second floor was crowded, but a corner table was free.
Song Hoe hesitated.
“To think you’d eat here of all places…”
“It’s fine. Sit.”
“My apologies. I should have prepared seats in advance…”
“I said it’s fine.”
Yi Hwan sat, surveying the inn. Unlike downstairs, most here were armed martial wanderers—derisively called drifters, no longer feared as in the past.
Since Daeyaseong’s fall, the martial world had collapsed, and common folk scorned them. Only top masters still commanded respect, often serving as military officers or guards for the powerful, like Peng Mu-wi.
Thus, the ones who suffered most were the lowly warriors.
Yi Hwan cast such thoughts aside and turned to the palace messenger.
From the start, the man had sat with arms folded, eyes closed, unmoving—an arrogance unthinkable before a Great General.
For even a mere messenger to treat him so…
Yi Hwan asked casually,
“Have you seen me before?”
The messenger opened his eyes.
“Yes. A few times before you left the palace.”
“And then too, did you act this arrogantly?”
“…!”
The man quickly lowered his arms, eyes full of fluster.
“My apologies. I was lost in thought.”
“Go eat downstairs.”
“…Pardon?”
“Or shall I pierce your ears for you?”
“N-no, I’ll go at once!”
Bowing deeply, the messenger hurried downstairs.
Yi Hwan turned to Song Hoe.
“When he was so insolent, why did you stay silent?”
“Well… palace messengers are usually of higher rank, even General Hwang Ho doesn’t dare offend them.”
“So, rank excuses arrogance? Would you stay silent if someone above you acted this way before His Majesty himself?”
“…!”
The meaning struck home. Song Hoe’s eyes widened before he bowed.
“My apologies. I was short-sighted. It won’t happen again.”
He was shaken—yet also oddly pleased. The Yi Hwan he knew would have feared the messenger even more, never daring to throw him out.
Forgive me. From now on, I too will change—just as you have, Great General.
