Chapter 02 ….
Audience (1)
Magnificent carved cliffs rose like folding screens, and between them a massive waterfall poured down with a refreshing roar. From the river where the falling water gathered, a rock jutted sharply upward. Because it resembled the head of a dragon, it was called Dragon Head Rock.
Seoryeon leapt lightly onto Dragon Head Rock as if flying.
Her senior brother, Yoo Wonseok, immediately followed behind and bluntly asked,
“Are you serious? About getting married?”
Seoryeon, who had been silently watching the cascading waterfall, let out a faint laugh.
“Isn’t it strange? Back then, even finding that dot was difficult.”
On the cliff behind the waterfall, facing them from Dragon Head Rock, there was a tiny dot. Of course, it was so small that ordinary people could hardly see it—only assassins who had reached a certain level could make it out.
‘The day the dot between the waterfalls appears large to you, I will accept you as my disciple.’
It was what her master—who had seemed as huge and fearsome as Mount Tai—had said when he first brought her here.
Although it had been at the request of her adoptive father, Lee Jageom, her stubborn master had refused to accept anyone into the assassin sect without the proper aptitude.
And Seoryeon had accepted that without complaint.
She wanted to test herself. She had heard her biological father was an assassin, and she held a vague belief that such blood might run in her veins as well.
So she remained on the rock for three days and nights without leaving. Then one day, the red dot carved into the cliff suddenly appeared large to her.
Only then was Seoryeon able to begin formal training.
If she had failed that test…
“Lee Seoryeon! Are you listening to me?”
Unlike the agitated Yoo Wonseok, Seoryeon stretched leisurely.
“If I wrap this job up well, I’ll return to the assassin sect.”
“You do know why Master refuses to go to Gaegyeong. People in power change their words as easily as they turn their backs.”
“It was a debt I had to repay someday.”
After all, the grace of being taken in was still a grace.
“I’ll go in your place—”
“Why are you acting so unlike yourself, Senior Brother?”
A killing without commission, a killing without justice—such acts were no better than those of a mad murderer and were grounds for expulsion from the Gwisal Sect.
“This is a commission that came to me.”
“How is being told to bear a child a commission? We’re assassins, not surrogate wombs.”
Yoo Wonseok hadn’t meant to speak so harshly, but the words burst out in his desperation to stop her.
Yet her reply only made his heart ache more.
“It’s fitting.”
Perhaps it was a fate even worse than being a courtesan—a life she had hated more than death. Courtesans at least had their pride valued. To Seoryeon, aside from the fact that the man was the king, this was nothing more and nothing less than being used to bear an heir.
“Say you can’t do it—even now. I’ll persuade His Excellency the Duke somehow.”
Like Seoryeon, Yoo Wonseok also owed the Duke his life. After both his parents were slaughtered by the Jurchens and he wandered alone, the Duke had taken him in, feeding and sheltering him. Recognizing the extraordinary resolve of the child who ground his teeth and swore to kill every last Jurchen someday, Lee Jageom had immediately sent Yoo Wonseok to Beopcheon Temple, the base of the assassin sect.
And Yoo Wonseok had been given a mission.
‘Find out who the Assassin Lord is.’
The Gwisal Sect was a legendary assassin organization said to descend from the Hwarang of Silla, appearing whenever the nation faced crisis. Yet the identity of its leader, the Assassin Lord, had never been revealed.
Though Lee Jageom had spent vast sums to discover the sect’s base, he still could not uncover the Assassin Lord’s identity. To Lee Jageom, who intended one day to seize Goryeo in his own grasp, the Gwisal Sect was an obstacle. He either had to bring them to his side or dismantle the organization—but without knowing the leader’s identity, neither was possible.
They gathered when scattered and scattered like the wind when gathered.
“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t you dare step in, Senior Brother. I mean it.”
Seoryeon spoke with emphasis. She didn’t want to endanger the man who was like a real older brother to her.
“But—”
Seoryeon quickly covered Yoo Wonseok’s mouth.
“Shh! Let’s drop it. It’s been a while—shall we go to the market?”
“The market?”
“Yeah. Once I enter the royal palace, it won’t be easy to come out. Let’s buy what we need, eat what we’ve been craving, and have some fun for once.”
* * *
At the very center of Gaegyeong’s crossroads, Seoryeon suddenly stopped.
“This place looks good.”
Shrring.
After sweeping her gaze around, Seoryeon drew the twin blades crossed on her back at the same time.
“Hey, put those away. We need money before we can buy anything.”
“You’re not seriously taking a commission in broad daylight? Absolutely not.”
Flustered, Yoo Wonseok tried to stop her and tell her to sheath the swords before anyone saw, but it was useless.
“Just watch quietly. I’m going all out for the first and last time.”
Rolling her neck side to side to loosen up, Seoryeon took a deep breath and looked up at the clear sky.
“The weather’s good enough.”
With a bright smile, she tossed the two finely honed blades high into the air.
The twin swords spun rapidly in midair, glittering.
It was such a strange sight—like twin stars rising in broad daylight—that passersby stopped and turned their attention toward the spot where the blades had shot upward.
Seoryeon deftly caught the rapidly falling swords.
“Got their attention. Senior Brother, what are you doing?”
“…Huh?”
“Get ready to collect.”
At her chin gesture toward the black cloth hat he wore, Yoo Wonseok finally understood and quickly took it off, holding it out upside down.
“It’s been so long, I wonder if my body still remembers.”
Standing with arms spread, Seoryeon slowly began to sweep the twin blades through the air. Sunlight reflected off the silver edges stretched toward the sky and poured over her.
Like a shaman performing a sword dance, her figure was both mystical and beautiful, and people on the street began to gather in small groups.
As if by silent agreement, coins began to drop into the hat in Yoo Wonseok’s hand. Those who settled in to watch began fully immersing themselves in the performance.
Her movements, once as elegant as a proud crane’s dance, gradually sharpened with disciplined precision.
This was not a dance meant to look pretty for men, but Seoryeon’s own reconstructed sword dance.
Cheers and applause erupted everywhere at the unusual spectacle, so clearly different from the sword dances of court entertainers.
Encouraged, Seoryeon smoothly split her legs straight and then sprang upward as if flying, performing an aerial spin. The spectators gasped in admiration, unable to take their eyes off her even for a moment. Unlike the usual traveling performers, her feat was extraordinary, and one by one, the onlookers began filling Yoo Wonseok’s hat with coins.
After glancing at the hat now full of coins, Seoryeon finished with a closing bow and was about to turn away—
When a deep, low voice flowed from behind her.
“Not quite martial arts, not quite a sword dance—yet you bewitch people with this crafty trick.”
“Which bastard—”
Seoryeon’s eyes widened the moment she saw who had picked the fight.
“Y-you!”
It was the man who had ruined her first kill.
One month earlier.
At Yongcheonga, bathed in golden full moonlight.
As Seoryeon slowly removed her clothes piece by piece, a supple yet sensuous body without a trace of excess was revealed.
With her slender waist exposed and her moderately full chest still covered, she walked slowly toward the pond—as if inviting someone to watch.
She slipped her body into the calm water and scooped some up with her hands.
As droplets fell between her fingers, Seoryeon stared blankly for a moment, lost in thought.
‘A single drop of water holds only a small force, but continuous drops possess enough power to pierce stone.’
Thus, even a fragile woman’s body, if trained again and again, could easily defeat several grown men.
When she clenched her calloused empty hand, even the remaining water in her palm scattered completely.
She was just before the final trial of her first kill. Once she passed this gate, she would become a full-fledged assassin and finally meet the Assassin Lord.
And then—she could find the whereabouts of her father.
Just as she reaffirmed the resolve she had long held in her heart—
A rustle came from the nearby bushes.
Rustle.
Seoryeon’s eyes flashed sharply.
Step. Step.
You’ve come.
The quiet footsteps, inaudible to ordinary people, felt to Seoryeon as precise as if measured with a ruler.
Soon—within arm’s reach.
“Heh heh, what a lucky find. I was just itching for some greasy fun.”
A burly frame, nearly eight feet tall. A rough, phlegmy voice. A rancid stench like meat gone bad.
It was him. The infamous bandit who preyed only on women who came to bathe at Yongcheon Spring. Today’s first-kill target.
The sound of his filthy tongue licking greedily pierced Seoryeon’s ears.
One more step.
Step.
Just as the bandit’s hand was about to touch her shoulder—
She sensed an unusual killing intent.
This—!
There was another one.
