"Ugh!"
He swung his sword faster than before. The air split with sharp whistling sounds. Yet, Ilhwa effortlessly deflected his strikes once more.
After several more exchanges, Ilhwa’s sword suddenly slipped through a gap in his guard and struck the Red Dragon Squad Leader’s forearm.
"Argh!"
Clutching his throbbing arm, he heard a youthful voice in his ear.
"Putting too much strength into your strikes doesn’t make them better. You should only use as much as you can control."
Excess ruins everything. No matter how much force you pour into a sword, it won’t split a boulder. If you try to cleave stone with brute strength, the blade will only chip or shatter.
A boulder splits when struck precisely—with the right speed and force—at its weakest point. The Red Dragon Squad Leader was no different. His reckless, overpowered swings were strong but not threatening.
"If you focus too much on strength, your body tenses up. A stiff body can’t move the sword as you want."
"Tch—!"
The squad leader swung low, aiming for Ilhwa’s smaller stature. But she simply took a step back, dodging lightly before suddenly crouching and darting beneath his guard.
"…!"
He twisted his body belatedly, trying to adjust his stance— Thwack! Ilhwa’s sword struck his kneecap faster.
"Aaah!"
The squad leader crumpled to the ground mid-twist. This time, he managed to brace himself with his wooden sword, avoiding an outright faceplant. Ilhwa stood over him.
"Your lower body is weak, so your balance collapses. And when your balance fails, you keep falling."
"You…"
Her wooden sword pressed against his throat. The cold aura radiating from its edge made him suck in a sharp breath as he looked up.
"The ground doesn’t shake. Not as long as I stand firm on it."
The child’s gaze was icy, her breathing perfectly steady. This wasn’t a close fight—it was a one-sided victory. No, calling it a victory was meaningless.
Ilhwa hadn’t even considered this a real duel.
‘This should be enough.’
The rest was up to him. Would he dismiss a child’s words, or would he reflect on his own shortcomings? Ilhwa turned away from the defeated squad leader and examined her own hand.
This was the first time she had held a sword after expelling her inner energy. Perhaps because her weakened body wasn’t fully adjusted yet, her fingertips tingled faintly, trembling slightly.
‘I’m in no position to give advice. I can’t control my strength either.’
She exhaled sharply. She needed to get used to this diminished power soon. Meanwhile, the Red Dragon Squad Leader couldn’t believe what had happened.
He had fought with everything he had against a child, yet she hadn’t even broken a sweat. Worse, she had pointed out flaws in his swordsmanship—flaws he had always known were his weaknesses.
‘Just who… is that kid?’
Who was she, to freely come and go from the Namgung’s training grounds and possess such formidable skill? As he blankly watched her retreating figure, a sudden realization struck him.
‘Could it be…?!’
Was she even a child at all? --- After the duel, Ilhwa left the training grounds. The commotion had drawn too many eyes, making it impossible to train in peace now.
‘I’ll go to the Guest Training Hall.’
She had planned to train there anyway. There was no point in attracting unnecessary attention. Though the time wasn’t wasted, she still regretted it.
She should’ve gone to the Heavenly Guest Room’s training grounds from the start.
"…!"
As she retraced her steps, her vision suddenly blurred. Since returning to the past, she had expelled her inner energy and hadn’t rested properly. Using more strength than expected had taken a toll on her young body.
Her limbs felt weak, her balance wavering as she staggered. I’m going to fall! The moment the thought crossed her mind— Snap!
"Whoa there!"
Someone caught her tilting body.
"Hey, kid."
Shaking her head to refocus, Ilhwa looked up at her rescuer. It was Seop Mugwang, leader of the Secret Wind Sword Unit.
"You don’t look so good, kid."
Her palms were clammy with sweat, cold beads forming on her skin. Ilhwa quickly wiped them on her pants.
"I’m fine. Just a little dizzy—ah!"
Before she could finish, her vision lurched upward. By the time a startled yelp escaped her, she was already cradled in Seop Mugwang’s arms.
Ilhwa scowled.
"Put me down."
"Let’s go."
Ignoring her, Seop Mugwang activated his movement technique, heading somewhere. The familiar sound of wind rushed past her ears as she asked, "Where are we going?" Seop Mugwang chuckled.
"You’ll see when we get there." --- The place Seop Mugwang took her was the Medicine Hall.
The Medicine Hall Master of the Namgung was someone Ilhwa hadn’t met in her past life. She had never heard news of the master fleeing, yet when the Namgung was invaded, they were nowhere to be found.
‘They must’ve abandoned the Namgung and run.’
Medicine Hall Masters were usually talented outsiders, not members of the main family. There was no reason for them to stay during the Namgung’s downfall. So Ilhwa held no grudge.
This time, she wouldn’t give them a reason to flee.
"We’re here."
Seop Mugwang set her down. The scent of medicinal herbs filled her nose, and Ilhwa inhaled deeply. She had always loved the smell of medicine.
‘The scent of life.’
Even in the Blood Sect, she had often visited the Medicine Hall, sitting there for hours before leaving. In a place saturated with the stench of death, the Medicine Hall’s aroma was a fleeting reminder of being alive. It soothed her restless heart.
As her unsettled mind calmed, Ilhwa stepped inside.
"What, gone again?"
Seop Mugwang looked around before ringing the bell at the entrance. But the Medicine Hall Master was nowhere in sight.
"Ugh—where’d they go this time? Told them to stay put… Kid, wait here a sec."
Grumbling, Seop Mugwang went outside to search. Ilhwa watched him leave before examining the herbs lining the shelves.
‘White ginseng, black snake root, heavenly vein grass… and is this licorice?’
Most were common yet versatile ingredients.
‘This is the Namgung, alright. The quality is impressive.’
As she picked up a piece of licorice for a closer look— "My, what a lovely little lady we have here?" Startled, Ilhwa turned. But the moment she saw the speaker, her expression hardened further.
"Oh my—" A silky voice, accompanied by a ticklish laugh.
A woman in ornate white robes embroidered with blue thread, wearing tall heels, approached gracefully before kneeling in front of Ilhwa. Deep eyes beneath long lashes stared intently at her. When the woman raised her hand, Ilhwa flinched.
The woman laughed melodically.
"My, you’re just like a little kitten~."
Her long lashes curved playfully as she gently stroked Ilhwa’s head.
"So adorable."
Her clear blue eyes were filled with nothing but affection. No hostility—only pure goodwill. Ilhwa knew this woman meant no harm.
Yet she couldn’t bring herself to relax.
‘Why is she here…?’
The Medicine Hall Master of the Blood Sect—who had always greeted her with a smile. Behind that smiling face was an assassin who reveled in cruel killings using poison. The Blood Sect’s Medicine Hall Master: Dokwol ("Poison Moon").
That was the name Ilhwa had known her by in her past life. This unexpected encounter sent her mind racing. The first thing to determine was: ‘Is she with the Blood Sect?
Or the Namgung?’ Was she a Blood Sect spy hiding in the Namgung, or had she been here before joining the sect? If the former, she had to die.
If the latter, she needed to be watched. Either way, Ilhwa couldn’t let her guard down.
"Did your blood stagnate? Can you see how many fingers I’m holding up, dear?"
When Ilhwa didn’t respond, the Medicine Hall Master tilted her head and waved her fingers in front of her. Just then, Seop Mugwang returned.
"Damn nuisance! Said there was something important, but of course, you’re nowhere to be found—wait, when did you get back?"
He had left to search for her, only to return empty-handed.
"Is it strange for me to be at my post? You, on the other hand, seem as grumpy as ever today. Looking healthy—good for you."
"Tch. Spare me the nonsense."
"Hmm… Our mighty unit leader doesn’t seem ill… So you came for this little kitten, then?"
"Little… what?"
Seop Mugwang’s face twisted in disgust. The Medicine Hall Master turned back to Ilhwa, kneeling to meet her eyes.
"Where does it hurt, sweetie?"
"Enough chatter. Just check her pulse."
"Ah, so you brought her without even knowing what’s wrong? How pitiful."
Her brows drooped sympathetically as her slender hand reached toward Ilhwa.