chapter 02
“Hrrk!”
Hongseol sucked in a sharp breath, fighting the urge to bolt on the spot.
If I remember right, that old man asked why I needed the inner core.
Swallowing hard, she stood frozen, waiting as the man drew closer.
At last, Namgung Ho spoke, his deep, commanding voice echoing through the cold air.
“You—why do you need this creature’s inner core?”
“Eek! Mother!”
Startled, Hongseol squeaked and darted behind a nearby tree again, trembling as she clutched its trunk.
I really came back… before I died. What do I do now?
This time, she could avoid falling off that cliff.
But…
I don’t have a home to return to anymore.
Her only home—
where her mother had wished for her death.
Hongseol’s small nose turned red in an instant.
It was all for nothing.
Climbing this freezing Daecheok Mountain with her torn hands and feet—begging that enormous snake for its inner core—all of it.
With eyes brimming with tears, Hongseol looked toward Namgung Ho.
He, meanwhile, had turned to the serpent.
“Dang Imu, what are you doing dragging around a child like this?”
— It’s been a while, Namgung Ho.
The Sword King, Namgung Ho—
the former patriarch of the Namgung Clan, still hailed as Namgung’s finest long after he passed the mantle on.
A man whose martial realm was said to rank among the ten greatest in the land.
To most, he was a legend.
To Dang Imu, he was just an old friend—no more intimidating than a pebble on the roadside.
— What brings you all the way here?
“I came to share a drink, it’s been too long.”
The serpent’s voice rumbled low.
— Ah… that’s right. Today marks Lady Wi’s death anniversary, doesn’t it?
As always, Dang Imu was sharp. Namgung Ho hid the bitterness in his heart behind a small nod.
“Anyway, who’s the child?”
The massive white serpent let out a sound that almost resembled laughter.
— Never seen her before. Cute, isn’t she? Shivering like a little leaf.
“Don’t be absurd. Frightening children now, are you?”
— Heh. If you ask me, she looks more scared of you than me.
At that, Namgung Ho turned. The poor, ragged girl was shaking from head to toe—a pitiful sight that could have stirred sympathy in anyone.
But Namgung Ho’s face remained carved from stone.
He studied the small, trembling shoulders before asking again.
“Tell me. Who told you to come for this serpent’s inner core?”
“H-hic!”
Instead of an answer, Hongseol hiccupped in fright.
The serpent snorted.
— Old dog, if you glare like that, even I couldn’t answer you.
Namgung Ho ignored the remark and asked again, more gently this time.
“I won’t harm you. Speak honestly. Who told you to take the inner core?”
Hongseol hesitated, then stammered out—
“M… my m-mother…”
“What?”
The old man’s face twisted, dark as thunderclouds.
Even Dang Imu, usually quick to jest, fell silent. His massive eyes narrowed with anger.
Did I… say something wrong?
Sensing the shift in the air, Hongseol scrambled to explain.
“It—it’s my fault! She said if I brought the core back, I’d be allowed to call her ‘Mother’…”
Her trembling voice silenced both men.
It was a long while before Dang Imu spoke again, his words whispered directly to Namgung Ho’s mind.
— A heartless woman. She must’ve sent her here knowing the child would die.
“Hmm.”
Namgung Ho’s brow furrowed deeply.
“Where is your home, girl?”
Don’t tell him!
Terrified, Hongseol shook her head hard, lips pressed tight.
She couldn’t let him know she was a cat beastman.
She had her reasons.
He looks scary, but… that Namgung elder must be a good person.
Hadn’t he, in her last life, covered her dying body with his robe and closed her eyes with a gentle hand?
Maybe… this time he’ll take me in. I’ve got nowhere else to go.
She lowered her eyes, her numb fingers twitching.
Even if she had to spend the winter without a hearth, she’d endure it—if it meant she had a place to stay, a roof to sleep under.
Even if that place was filled with dog beastmen like the Namgung Clan, she didn’t care.
They say the Namgung Clan is far wealthier than the Myo Family.
A vast estate, teeming with servants and retainers. Surely, they needed extra hands.
I can’t do much… but maybe if I offer to wash his robes every day, they’ll let me sleep in a small room.
Of course, that meant one thing:
Her secret—that she was a cat beast—must never be discovered.
No matter how kind he seemed, no one in a house full of dog beastmen would want a cat servant under their roof.
Just as she bowed her head,—
“I asked where your home is!”
“Hhic!”
Namgung Ho’s stern demand cut short as he noticed something twitching on her head—two small, triangular ears poking through her tangled hair.
The cat ears she hadn’t managed to conceal.
Dang Imu and Namgung Ho exchanged knowing glances.
— There’s only one cat beast clan in these parts… must be from the Myo Family.
The Myo Family—
the cat clan bearing the surname Myo.
Not as mighty as the Namgung Clan, but still a respected martial household in the region.
And both men had heard the rumor—
of the Myo family’s useless eldest daughter, born without the ability to cultivate.
Recalling that, Namgung Ho’s jaw tightened.
To cast a child into mortal danger like this… what kind of mother does that?
It was the sort of cruelty one expected from the demonic sects, not a respectable family.
He stared down at the trembling girl, weighing his thoughts.
What should I do with her?
Leave her here, and she’d freeze to death before dawn.
But even if he sent her back to her clan, what then? Her mother might simply send her to die again.
Silence stretched.
Hongseol, sensing their uncertainty, looked down at the ground, clutching her hands tight over her chest.
“I… I don’t have a home anymore…”
Plop.
Tears she hadn’t realized she was holding spilled down, soaking her chapped hands.
Her skin was cracked and raw from the cold, blood faintly visible beneath the surface.
Namgung Ho exhaled heavily.
“Hmm…”
Maybe it was because today was his wife’s memorial day—
but her voice echoed in his mind.
“If you ever meet someone young and pitiful… please, for my sake, be kind to them.”
Kind to the young and pitiful…
Perhaps this child is a bond my wife left behind.
He made up his mind.
“Child, what’s your name?”
This time, she answered right away.
“H-Hongseol.”
Hong, for red. Seol, for snow.
A fitting name for such a delicate face.
And clever, too—she’d deliberately left out her family name.
“All right, Hongseol. It seems your mother doesn’t want you back. Then how about you come with me instead?”
— Namgung Ho!
Dang Imu slapped his tail on the lake’s surface in protest.
— You can’t be serious! Bringing a cat beast into the Namgung Clan?
But Namgung Ho didn’t flinch. His eyes stayed fixed on the girl.
Let the elders complain all they wanted—if the child wished it, he’d give her a new life, even as an anonymous servant.
Yet Hongseol didn’t answer.
Her small body wavered unsteadily, as though something was terribly wrong.
“What in the world…?”
Namgung Ho froze.
Hongseol’s body was swaying, her thin frame trembling violently.
What’s happening to me?
She tried to steady herself, but her limbs wouldn’t obey.
Her body burned with heat—then, in the next heartbeat, turned icy cold.
Her hands and feet went numb.
Her vision turned yellow.
I… feel dizzy…
And then—
thud.
Her small body crumpled to the ground.
“Child!”
Namgung Ho lunged forward, catching her just before she hit the earth.
Dang Imu thrashed his tail against the water.
— You fool! Did your words shock her so badly she fainted?
“Hmm…”
The old man’s reply came slowly—unusually so for one so direct.
Dang Imu sensed something was off.
— Namgung Ho, what’s wrong?
Namgung Ho was checking the girl’s pulse. Something in her tiny body was terribly abnormal.
“Her meridians… are in chaos.”
What he found was disastrous.
The vital pathways that should have flowed smoothly through her body were severed and blocked in countless places—like mountain roads destroyed by a storm.
Some were caved in entirely; others were clogged and twisted.
— Didn’t you say she was born unable to cultivate? That explains it, doesn’t it?
“No… it’s not that simple. I need to look closer.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Namgung Ho gathered his internal energy. A faint blue aura shimmered around his burly frame.
Carefully, he guided a thread of energy into her body—and then, his eyes flew open.
Impossible. There are clear traces of both yin and yang… coexisting?
Yin and yang energy were meant to balance and harmonize.
But inside Hongseol, the two forces clashed violently, like storm and lightning locked in endless war.
Her frail body was the battlefield—shredded and ravaged from within.
There was only one possible explanation.
Namgung Ho’s lips trembled as he spoke.
“This child… she has the Yin-Yang Severed Meridians.”
Dang Imu’s pale face went even whiter.
— Then… her life hangs by a thread!
“Yes. But if those severed meridians can be healed… this girl could one day wield the Yin-Yang Divine Art.”
The Yin-Yang Divine Art—
a martial art that balanced both ice and flame within a single body.
Many had mastered one or the other, but never both.
Only someone born with this rare constitution could hope to do so.
