Chapter 20
The Martial Artists of the Zhao Nation
“Loosen your hips!”
“If you swing your sword like that, you’ll lose your wrist first! Focus!”
Training was in full swing in the backyard.
Having just finished his inner cultivation, Ihwan made his way out back, but paused when something caught his eye—a parcel placed off to the side.
It was the medicine sent by Crown Prince Iso.
‘He probably sent it with the best of intentions, wishing me a speedy recovery.’
But Ihwan was already fully healed, so there was no need to take it.
‘I’ll just accept the sentiment.’
He turned and walked into the backyard.
The heat radiating from Song Hoe, Song Cheonmu, and Cha Junggyeong hit him like a wave. All three were drenched in sweat, gasping as if about to collapse.
Cheol Muok bowed his head.
“How are they?”
“With this level of skill, it’s a miracle they haven’t died yet.”
“Don’t judge by your own standards. Match their level, and don’t let your disappointment show.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“…My prince.”
“Apologies. It still doesn’t roll off the tongue… I’ll do my best.”
Ihwan studied the three of them.
Surprisingly, Song Cheonmu looked to be in the best shape. In contrast, Song Hoe and Cha Junggyeong seemed about ready to collapse.
Ihwan asked Song Cheonmu, “You’ve taken quite a bit of elixirs before, haven’t you?”
“I don’t know if they were elixirs, but my father and older brother always gave me good things since I was young.”
‘Lucky brat.’
Even two hundred years ago, and still now, it was rare for illegitimate children to be raised with love.
Especially in prestigious families—it was even rarer. Bastards were seen as potential sources of conflict, and history had shown this countless times.
Prestigious families placed strict value on discipline and wouldn’t tolerate anything that could shake it. So it was common for such families to treat illegitimate children harshly from a young age to prevent them from harboring ambition.
“Why don’t you show them a demonstration?” Cheol Muok suggested.
Ihwan chuckled.
“Are you curious about my skills? Or do you not trust me?”
“Of course not. I just…”
“Let’s eat.”
“…Yes, sir.”
“Ugh!”
Thud! Thud!
Song Hoe and Cha Junggyeong collapsed onto their backs. Song Cheonmu was still breathing heavily, but his eyes were alert.
“I need to go to Mount Hua!”
“Why Hua?”
“To demand answers! Why was I treated so differently as a fellow disciple? If they’d just taught me the proper techniques, I wouldn’t be this pathetic! Huff, huff!”
His voice was thick with resentment.
Ihwan felt a twinge of guilt. Song Hoe had served him faithfully without complaint or rest. Yet Ihwan had paid more attention to Song Cheonmu.
More than that—he’d even used Song Hoe as bait to lure Cheol Muok through the scented incense.
‘I’ve been too indifferent.’
At that moment, Cheol Muok’s voice echoed in his mind.
[If he improves his internal energy, he’ll be extremely useful. His ability to adapt and modify techniques rivals that of peak masters.]
Ihwan nodded silently.
“Enough whining. Eat and then check on the Yongho Troops. Training them is just as important as your own.”
“…Yes, sir. I’ll go after I wash up.”
Once the three of them went inside, Cheol Muok asked, “He’s in charge of training the Yongho Troops?”
“For now. It’s not time for me to step in yet.”
“I could help.”
“Group tactics are a whole different realm. Later, having you guide the command-level officers will be useful. But for now, focus on those three.”
“Understood.”
Meanwhile, in the Zhao Nation’s Military Camp
A man stepped into the commander’s tent. A middle-aged figure with crimson eyes to match his blood-red robes.
It must have been an unexpected visit, as the Commander looked startled.
“Well, what brings you here?”
“I’ve come under imperial orders to assist.”
“The Emperor gave such an order?”
“Didn’t you request reinforcements?”
“A few subordinates would’ve sufficed… I didn’t expect you to come in person.”
The man replied with a stern tone.
“His Majesty wishes for us to secure the canyon outpost permanently. That’s why I was sent directly.”
“He’s even willing to escalate the conflict?”
“I merely relay His Majesty’s orders. He commanded us to retake the outpost as soon as possible. Before that, we’ll personally survey the enemy’s camp. That will be all.”
He delivered the message like a verdict and exited the tent. Right afterward, the deputy entered.
“Commander, the Blood Ghosts—there are fifty of them.”
“Well, if the chief came, that makes sense.”
The Commander’s expression hardened.
‘Sending fifty Blood Ghosts just to reclaim the outpost? That’s unheard of. Are they really prepared to escalate things? Or is there another reason?’
Anxiety crept in.
The Blood Ghost Chief was not someone you wanted close. His presence meant that even the smallest mistakes would be reported directly to the Emperor.
“Deputy.”
“Yes, Commander.”
“Send a man to the Crown Prince immediately. Inform him the Blood Ghost Chief is here and try to learn what’s happening in the palace. This must remain between us. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
After the deputy left, the Commander slumped into his chair, eyes narrowing.
‘The Blood Ghost Chief only acts on the Emperor’s command. Sending him means there’s something more going on than just the outpost. I need to find out what.’
A chill crept into his chest.
‘Could it be… Did he discover the slush fund?’
Late that night
Ihwan summoned Song Hoe to his room.
“You called for me?”
“Sit down.”
As Song Hoe sat, Ihwan placed a thin booklet on the table. It was a modified version of his personal cultivation technique, adjusted to be easier for Song Hoe to learn.
Tap.
“Start studying this tomorrow.”
“What is it…?”
“A pretty useful technique. It’ll help a lot, so study it well.”
“Th-thank you!”
Song Hoe’s eyes grew misty.
Seeing that, Ihwan felt a wave of pity.
“Once you understand the method, practice it whenever you have time. It should resolve what you need the most.”
“What do you think that is, sir?”
“Inner strength.”
Song Hoe’s eyes widened.
“You mean this technique will increase my internal energy?”
“Don’t believe me?”
“Honestly… yes. I’ve never even heard of such a technique existing…”
“Don’t doubt. Just give it your best effort.”
“…Understood. Thank you, truly, my prince!”
“You may go.”
“Sleep well.”
Once Song Hoe left, Ihwan laid down.
‘Not sure if I did the right thing.’
Passing on a cultivation technique was never a light matter. Even in his era, he’d only taught it to his closest followers, including the Three Kings.
If it ever leaked, it could benefit the enemy.
‘Still, if I’m to live in this world, the more reliable people I have under me, the better.’
One of Ihwan’s strengths was never second-guessing himself once he made a decision.
As he cleared his mind, five spheres of blue light floated above him—larger and clearer than before.
A smile curled on his lips.
‘I’m definitely progressing faster.’
He almost launched one unconsciously, but then stopped himself—recalling how Cha Junggyeong had bled the last time.
Just then…
“My prince.”
Song Hoe’s voice echoed.
“What is it?”
“Do you know anything about the incense? They say the fox keeps barking at me because of it… They say the scent lasts a year…”
“….”
Guilt stabbed Ihwan.
He sat up.
“Come in.”
Song Hoe stepped in.
Ihwan explained everything. Throughout, Song Hoe’s face clearly showed disappointment.
Ihwan ended the talk bluntly.
“That technique I just gave you—let’s call it even.”
“….”
The Next Morning
Song Hoe returned from the supply depot with a startled expression.
“Last night’s scouts were found dead, over a hundred of them.”
Ihwan’s brow furrowed.
Over a hundred casualties was no trivial matter.
“Zhao seems to be taking this seriously.”
“But something’s strange. The bodies were found not far from the outpost, but none of the nearby guards heard a thing. Over a hundred people died… yet not a sound?”
Ihwan’s eyes sharpened.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
“That is strange. If it happened at night, sound should’ve carried even farther.”
“Exactly. There are rumors Zhao has brought in martial experts. All the officers are gathered at the command tent.”
“If martial artists have joined them, that’s a serious threat. We only have the Peng Clan here.”
“Shall we go?”
“Have the bodies been buried yet?”
“They were found early this morning. Probably not.”
Ihwan grabbed his outer robe.
In the backyard, Song Cheonmu and Cha Junggyeong were still training hard.
“Muok.”
“Yes, my prince?”
“Come with me.”
With Cheol Muok and Song Hoe in tow, Ihwan headed for Hwangho’s barracks—but bypassed the command tent and went straight to the corpses.
“Salute!”
The guards greeted him with military courtesy.
Ihwan looked over the corpses and spoke to Cheol Muok.
“Let’s examine the wounds.”
“Understood.”
But after just one, they both stood up.
One was enough.
“They couldn’t even resist. They were taken down by real experts.”
“If no one heard anything, that means there wasn’t just one or two of them.”
“Right. Zhao may have brought in several powerful martial artists.”
“Most likely.”
Ihwan walked out.
Cheol Muok followed.
“Muok.”
“Yes?”
“Ever done reconnaissance?”
“Not exactly, but I’ve tailed people plenty of times.”
“Not your specialty?”
“This is the first time I’ve ever been caught. A branch broke in the wind…”
Ihwan still hadn’t admitted that he had thrown that branch.
“But why ask about recon…?”
“I’ll explain later. For now, we’re heading to the command tent. Let’s go.”
At the command tent—
“Salute!”
A guard blocked him, looking flustered.
“You can’t enter right now—”
“It’s fine. I can.”
Ihwan brushed past him and opened the door. Everyone turned to stare.
Some stood and bowed; others clearly looked uncomfortable.
Jungcheon sighed and lowered his head. Hwangho looked completely taken aback.
Ihwan ignored them and addressed Hwangho.
“Have you examined the corpses?”
“It’s a serious matter. We planned to check them after the meeting.”
“Isn’t that the wrong order of priorities?”
“…”
Ihwan turned to Cheol Muok.
“Tell them.”
“Yes.”
Cheol Muok looked around the room and spoke.
“The scouts couldn’t even put up a fight. They were killed silently, just a short distance from the camp, and no one heard a thing. That level of skill means the enemy are at least peak-level masters.”
Murmurs rippled through the room.
Cheol Muok continued.
“And there are quite a few of them.”
“Go on,” Ihwan urged.
Cheol Muok looked to Ihwan, who stepped forward.
“If there are many such masters, the one leading them must be even stronger. So tonight, this friend of mine will infiltrate the enemy camp. We need to know who’s joined their side to prepare our countermeasures. Therefore…”
He swept the room with his gaze.
“Until he returns, all reconnaissance missions are suspended. I have no interest in wasting lives for nothing.”
