Chapter : 008
Paahng, paang!
When Gu Heeryang swung his staff, the disguised objects set up to make the floor and surroundings look ordinary were smashed, flying apart in all directions.
“It’s an attack!”
If they were wandering villagers or farmers, they would have begged for mercy or run blindly. But these people grabbed the sharp weapons in their hands.
They charged at Yeonhwa and Gu Heeryang, who were tearing everything visible into chaos, trying to stop them.
From the village entrance, a storm of blood and wind swept through, while Gwakso and his group, waiting outside, slowly surrounded the village. They cut down the fleeing enemies or forced them to kneel for interrogation.
Soon after, a report arrived at the Martial Alliance’s Munryeong Hall that another hideout of the demon sect spies had been completely destroyed.
As one of the three central branches of the Martial Alliance, Munryeong Hall had historically served a military role, so many people came and went.
However, its owner valued order and disliked disturbances, so everyone moved carefully, barely even breathing loudly. Most of the day passed in quiet.
Moryong Yunhwan, reading the newly arrived letter in his office, clicked his tongue at the sounds outside.
And shortly after: Bang! Bang! Bang!
Someone stomped toward the office as if to shatter the floor, and without asking, flung the door open.
Clenching his teeth, still feeling the heat of the battlefield and with blood-soaked clothes, he demanded,
“What did you do with her?”
Moryong Yunhwan set the letter down and gestured to a seat.
“Sit first. Catch your breath.”
“Where is she?”
The other showed no intention of listening. Yunhwan pressed his thumb and forefinger between his eyes, sighing.
Amid the ongoing war with the demon sect, the Hubei–Jiangxi front had been in poor condition. After staying up all night worrying, it was frustrating to see one of only two close friends come and act recklessly.
“She’s currently in Uido. She’s not even deployed to the battlefield, just training. And yet all this fuss?”
“Just because she’s training doesn’t guarantee she won’t get hurt. More importantly, why does Yeonhwa even have to attend such training?”
Now, Tak Moosung’s gaze, sharp and cold as a strand of hair, flickered dangerously. Yunhwan’s expression stiffened.
“At least, Tak Moosung, you’re not trying to lock her away and raise her in isolation. You sent her to the academy and even personally supervised her at the Sashin Hall—surely, that was to help her gain some reputation, wasn’t it?”
Of course, Yunhwan himself never intended to recklessly let her roam outside. But if she was to establish herself within the Martial Alliance, she had to engage in proper activities.
“If she keeps this up, what happens after she graduates and is assigned a real post in the Alliance? Even in a safe place, there will never be zero risk.”
The thought alone made Tak Moosung exude a sharp, lethal aura.
“That will never happen,” Tak Moosung swore, as if to himself.
It was no different from when he taught Yeonhwa the sword in her childhood.
When Tak Moosung had vowed to teach young Yeonhwa the sword, he was clumsy in every way.
Of course, he wasn’t foolish—he didn’t intend to make her do exactly what he had done.
Yeonhwa had looked so small and fragile that even comparing her to twelve-year-old Tak Moosung was too much, so he halved the regimen.
He had her do what he had done at age six, and Yeonhwa nearly died.
Her body overheated and swelled all over.
Even with a wooden practice sword instead of Namgung Seonyu’s steel blade, her hands became swollen and cracked.
Shy and easily intimidated, Yeonhwa could not say she was unable to continue under Tak Moosung, whom she had trouble approaching. This escalated the problem.
The first day, she endured ignorance; the second day, she survived with sheer will; by the third day, she nearly collapsed.
Still, she persisted, and eventually, she would follow him to the training grounds, repeatedly reviewing the techniques he had taught after he left.
But limits eventually appeared.
One year later, Tak Moosung looked down at Yeonhwa, collapsed and trembling, sweating blood-red sweat. His eyes darkened.
The absurd truth: even on the first day, he had only given her half of the six-year-old regimen he had once done himself.
Seeing her rise again, aided by a miraculous elixir from Yang Eujun and Tak Moosung’s careful treatment, his gaze was complex.
Afterward, he devoted himself to teaching her swordsmanship carefully.
Yet things rarely went exactly as he wished.
Yeonhwa still got hurt or sick over minor things.
It was Tak Moosung’s first defeat in all matters of martial skill.
But, as always, he found the solution: rather than trying to prevent injury, he realized the key was to prevent situations where injury could occur at all.
Over time, this principle extended beyond martial arts to guide Yeonhwa’s entire growth.
Thus, Tak Moosung watched and carefully nurtured her as she matured from a child into a young woman.
“I gave her the Hyeonmu Sword only as a toy and so that others wouldn’t despise her. I never intended for her to do anything with it.”
“You!”
Moryong Yunhwan shouted in anger, irritated not because of Yeonhwa, but because of the sword’s misuse.
Tak Moosung had no intention of conceding.
“She alone is a symbol of trust and our pledge. Does she really need to swing a ceremonial sword? Isn’t me wielding the Martial Alliance’s sword enough?”
“Ha, that stubborn fool…”
Yunhwan covered his face with his palm, likely expressing how much he despised him.
Tak Moosung’s voice spoke again:
“She’s been outside too long; call her back. And Yunhwan, after she graduates, you’ll surely find a good way to prevent her from leaving the Alliance, right?”
Yunhwan shook his head, thinking Tak Moosung had spoken more in that day than ever before.
He removed his hand, looking at Tak Moosung directly.
“There is a way.”
“Speak.”
“As soon as she went to training, I received a message from the head of the Namgung clan.”
“Ah.”
This was urgent news related to the Namgung clan, already conveyed on the battlefield via letter.
“The Namgung head wanted a suitable match for his daughter. But it seemed like he was trying to involve her with one of us.”
Yunhwan’s words carried contempt, making Tak Moosung frown.
Marry a girl he had raised like a sister? He had never even considered it.
Yunhwan’s displeasure far exceeded his own.
“I don’t think the Namgung head truly expects us to pair with her. He’s testing the waters; if it fails, he’ll try something else.”
Yunhwan grimaced, thinking of the messy schemes he would otherwise have to endure.
“Let’s choose someone suitable and arrange a marriage with her ourselves. If she bears a child immediately, the Namgung head will have no choice but to stay quiet, and she will be unable to act independently.”
Otherwise, more extreme measures would be necessary… which Tak Moosung would dislike.
Tak Moosung, who had been silently listening, spun around.
Was he about to leave? No.
“It’s time for Eujun to visit the Martial Alliance. When he comes, we’ll discuss this again. Matters concerning Yeonhwa require everyone’s input and consent. We need his opinion as well.”
He then strode out of the office.
Left alone, Yunhwan smirked.
“Hah, as if Tak Moosung would need our opinion regarding that girl.”
The faint smile on his refined, beautiful face quickly vanished, replaced by the cold gaze with which he picked up the letter again.
“Anyway, we need to call her back. Eujun will come, and she must be present then.”
He took out a fresh sheet of paper, picked up a brush, and began writing.
