Chapter 5
The Man Chasing the Trace of the Soul-Severing Technique
Lee Hwan slowly opened his eyes.
Song Hoe stood there, his face brimming with excitement.
“What’s going on?”
“His Highness the Crown Prince sent medicine! The Crown Prince himself, sir!”
“Is that something to get so emotional about?”
“He’s the man who will one day rule this land! How can I not be moved? Please, come see it for yourself!”
Shaaak!
Lee Hwan stepped out of the hot bath, wrapped a cloth around himself, and walked inside. Song Hoe followed, unable to hide his agitation.
“His Highness has been watching over you, my lord! The cold and distant Crown Prince… caring for you!”
Song Hoe’s voice was on the verge of breaking into tears.
Cha Jung-gyeong looked at him with an expression of pity and mild contempt.
‘You’re a soldier, not some concubine swooning over the emperor’s favor. Tsk, tsk.’
Lee Hwan entered the room, changed clothes, and sat down at the table. A teacup was already set there.
Clink.
After taking a sip, his eyes moved to the basket on the table. Inside was the medicine, wrapped in gold-embossed paper.
‘Something’s off… I don’t remember anything like this happening.’
In his memory, Crown Prince Yi So was nothing if not cold and calculating. When Lee Hwan left the imperial palace for the frontlines, Yi So hadn’t even come to see him off—just like the other imperial princes.
For such a man to send medicine now… it sparked suspicion more than gratitude.
“It’s just the pity of someone in power. Stop making such a fuss.”
“Even if you say so, sir, I feel like dancing for joy!”
Lee Hwan almost said something but stopped himself. Song Hoe’s joy seemed genuine.
“Let’s just eat.”
“If you wait a little, it will be served shortly.”
At that moment—
“My lord, the Left General has come to see you.”
The voice of a guard drifted in from outside.
Lee Hwan recalled the general he’d seen with the Peng family’s warriors.
Song Hoe asked, “Shall I let him in?”
“Tell him I’m too tired.”
“But he’s come all this way to greet you—”
“That’s enough.”
Hwang Ho sat across from Jeong Cheon.
The two were deep in conversation about military matters. At the end, Jeong Cheon spoke.
“According to the guards, my lord’s martial arts were astonishing. They said several members of the Black Tiger Unit lost their heads with almost absurd ease to his sword.”
“Then he’s been hiding his martial skill until now?”
“It appears so.”
“But why hide it? With such skill, he could have earned great military merit.”
“Perhaps he had no desire to return to the palace? My lord might feel more at ease on a blood-soaked battlefield than in the palace, where one must constantly watch one’s step.”
Indeed, Lee Hwan had endured being belittled by many generals without ever showing visible discontent.
Perhaps it was because of a meek personality… or maybe because, in his mind, life here was preferable to life in the palace.
“You may be right.”
Hwang Ho took a sip of his now-cold tea.
Clink.
Jeong Cheon continued, “Left General Peng Mu-wi has requested information about the Zhao army—especially to speak directly with the warriors who fought the Black Tiger Unit.”
“That’s natural, since they came to deal with the Black Tigers. It saves us trouble, so give them all the information they want.”
“Understood.”
Clink.
“Still… I can’t shake this feeling about the prince. He may have made it through this time, but we don’t know what trouble he might stir up next. Keep a closer eye on him.”
“Yes, sir.”
When Jeong Cheon left, Hwang Ho opened the window.
A cool breeze carrying the scent of the forest drifted in. He looked toward the camp opposite his own—where the Left General and the Peng family warriors were quartered.
‘They didn’t come here just for the Black Tigers. If the Left General was sent to replace me, then the Empress who favors Prince Yi Hwang must be gaining even more influence…’
The imperial palace was currently centered around the Empress.
The emperor—once called the Iron-Blooded Monarch—had gradually withdrawn from direct rule, allowing the Empress to take his place.
The Crown Prince’s mother had died soon after his birth, and the current Empress had entered the palace afterward, bearing Prince Yi Hwang and the Third Prince.
The Empress doted particularly on Yi Hwang, and people flocked to his side as a result.
Rumors about the emperor abounded, though none were confirmed.
Hwang Ho thought of Crown Prince Yi So.
‘Endure, and endure again, Your Highness. No matter what, you are the rightful heir to this nation.’
Clench—
In a northern Zhao city near the Yan border—
Despite being so close to the frontier, the city was grand and bustling. One mountain range away lay Yan territory, and yet the streets were filled with energy and commerce, not fear of impending war.
It was a sign of Zhao’s recent prosperity.
A man entered the city and went straight to an inn.
It was crowded and noisy, drunk voices echoing like in a marketplace.
“Welcome, sir!”
“Got a quiet room?”
“There’s one vacant upstairs. Shall I show you?”
“Lead the way.”
The man followed the inn boy to the third floor, where each room was sealed off, making it quiet compared to downstairs.
“Two bottles of huazhu wine, and the best side dishes you have.”
“Yes, sir! Please enjoy some tea while you wait.”
Once alone, the man set down his sword and sipped the prepared tea.
Tap.
He folded his arms and closed his eyes, sitting perfectly still until—
“It’s me.”
“Come in.”
A man in green robes entered.
“I’ve found what you asked for.”
“Speak.”
“There’s a Zhao army unit called the Black Tigers. One of them—two days ago—went missing after a battle.”
“You’re sure it’s the man who ambushed the Fourth Prince of Yan?”
“Yes. His name is Cha Jung-gyeong. Other than him, no one in the Black Tigers is known to use the Soul-Severing Technique.”
“So… missing. He might be dead.”
“They haven’t found a body. But given how fierce the battle was, the chances are high he died.”
The man’s gaze darkened, radiating a pitch-black aura.
“Keep digging until you see the corpse.”
“Yes, sir.”
Just then, the inn boy returned with wine.
As the green-robed man poured a drink, he added, “They say the Fourth Prince who was struck by the Soul-Severing Technique survived.”
The man’s eyes shifted sharply.
“What? Wasn’t that just a few days ago?”
“That’s right. Isn’t it strange? Even if it was cast by a mediocre user, to recover in mere days and return to the battlefield is remarkable.”
The man’s gaze cooled again.
“Shall I investigate him as well? There might be something to find.”
The man emptied three cups in silence before answering.
“Do it. But remember—finding the missing Black Tiger comes first.”
“Yes, sir. Ah, and this—”
The green-robed man handed over a wanted poster.
“This is Cha Jung-gyeong’s likeness. Memorize it, just in case.”
When the inn boy returned with food, the conversation ended.
The next morning, the man left the inn. The green-robed companion was nowhere to be seen.
He left the city heading north, toward the looming mountains. Beyond them lay Yan territory.
—There’s a city where the families of Yan warriors live. I’ll meet you there in two days.
After making sure no one was around, he launched himself toward the mountains. His lightness skill was beyond the realm of masters, letting him fly like a bird.
Reaching the edge of the forest at the mountain’s base, he stopped—Zhao soldiers were patrolling.
“Stop!”
He did.
The soldiers surrounded him.
“This is a restricted area. No commoner should be here, and no Zhao subject would be ignorant of that.”
“I’m not a Zhao subject.”
“What?”
“I’m a wandering swordsman with no homeland. Let me pass.”
“Whether you’re a wanderer or a Yan spy, we’ll find out. Drop your sword and surrender! Resist, and this will be your grave!”
Shhhk—
A blade touched his throat.
But his eyes didn’t waver as he looked straight at their leader.
“Let me pass.”
Perhaps sensing something unusual, the leader hesitated—then drew his sword.
Clang!
“So, you’re a martial artist.”
“I told you, I’m a wanderer.”
“Shut up! What are you waiting for? Restrain him!”
Two soldiers reached for his arms—
And in an instant, he slid past them like wind-blown paper, heading straight for their leader.
“Huh?!”
Before they could react, a flash of light swept through—and the leader’s head fell to the ground.
Thud!
“Gasp!”
“Ugh!”
The others recoiled in terror.
The man walked past them, into the forest.
“Bother me, and you all die.”
“…!”
Inside a darkened room with cloth covering the windows—
Lee Hwan sat cross-legged, training in internal cultivation, sweat running down his face.
Realizing his lack of inner strength, he had devoted himself to cultivation for the past two days, refusing all visitors.
The room was stifling from the heat radiating off his body.
“Huuh!”
He exhaled long and opened his eyes. For a moment, a sharp light flickered there.
‘Two days straight—that’s what it takes for results.’
He stepped outside.
Cha Jung-gyeong, dozing off, woke and rubbed his eyes.
“Where’s the captain?”
“He went out a little while ago.”
“Where to?”
“Like he’d tell me.”
“Go fetch some cold water.”
Cha Jung-gyeong went to the back yard.
Lee Hwan flung open the window.
Whoosh—
Cool air soothed his overheated body.
He looked across the camp and spotted Peng family warriors leaving their barracks, followed by the Left General. Song Hoe’s words came to mind:
—There’s a rumor that Prince Yi Hwang sent the Left General to replace General Hwang as overall commander here.
Lee Hwan thought of Yi Hwang.
In his host body’s memories, Yi Hwang was someone to be feared. The relentless torment from childhood was burned into him like a brand.
More than once, he had nearly died because of Yi Hwang—but the man had always been forgiven for being of the direct royal line.
Perhaps the battlefield felt more comfortable than the glittering palace precisely because it kept him far from Yi Hwang.
‘If you treat me like before, I’ll take your head first.’
That cold thought was followed by a sudden jolt. Anger surged within him at the mere thought of Yi Hwang.
‘Am I… being influenced by this body’s emotions?’
