Given that she had nearly been killed by this child before, the Medicine Hall Master was slightly tense, though she struggled to maintain a composed smile.
"You’ve been training quite diligently—though you should still be a bit more careful. Let me take a look at your injuries."
Ilhwa extended her arm toward her. When the Medicine Hall Master stared at her in surprise, Ilhwa spoke.
"I think I have internal injuries. Could you check for me?"
"I can, but... I’ll need to use my inner energy. Is that alright?"
Ilhwa nodded obediently.
"My, I didn’t expect you to give in so easily. Does this mean you trust me a little now?"
Despite their first encounter nearly ending in death, the Medicine Hall Master still wore a bright, cheerful expression. She took hold of Ilhwa’s slender arm, then closed her eyes and focused on reading her pulse. A thread-like energy, thin as silk, seeped into Ilhwa’s meridians, exploring every corner of her body.
‘One of the Namgung’s key figures, yet not truly one of them.’
In truth, though she held the title of Hall Master, her influence within the Namgung was minimal—hardly enough to be considered a key position. Yet, as the head of the Medicine Hall, she held the lives of the clan’s members in her hands. If she so desired, she could poison the entire Namgung in an instant, reducing them to ruin.
‘Just like back in the Blood Sect.’
When the Medicine Hall Master’s energy brushed near Ilhwa’s dantian, she hesitated for a brief moment. Her brow furrowed slightly. Just as the energy lingered before moving again— "Is there someone you want to kill?"
A quiet voice seeped into the Medicine Hall Master’s mind as she probed Ilhwa’s meridians. Slowly, the Medicine Hall Master opened her eyes. Her energy swiftly withdrew.
For a moment, their gazes locked. The Medicine Hall Master tilted her head with a faint smile.
"What do you mean by that?"
Even though the question was vague, the Medicine Hall Master responded in kind—through mental transmission. A sign that she was willing to engage. Ilhwa smiled back.
"Exactly what I asked."
"Hmm..."
The Medicine Hall Master released Ilhwa’s hand and leaned back in her chair. Her eyes held a mix of curiosity and puzzlement as she studied Ilhwa.
"Well... there was someone, once. Why do you ask, my adorable little kitten?"
"Is there someone now?"
"Fortunately, no. That person is already dead."
A chilling aura radiated from her cheerful smile. It was the same presence Ilhwa had seen from Dokwol in her past life. A poisonous air, thick enough that it wouldn’t be strange if someone dropped dead from poisoning at any moment.
In her past life, whenever the Medicine Hall Master showed this side of herself, disciples of the sect would start dying within half a month. The causes of death varied, but Ilhwa knew—they had all been poisoned.
"Then, when do you think you’ll want to kill someone again?"
"Huh?"
The Medicine Hall Master stroked her chin, tilting her head in confusion. Though her expression seemed to ask why Ilhwa was so curious, she answered earnestly nonetheless.
"If someone harms the people I love, I suppose I’d want to kill them."
"Do you have someone you love?"
"Hmm... So that’s what our kitten is really curious about?"
"The Namgung?"
The Medicine Hall Master’s eyebrows twitched upward. She stared blankly at the moxibustion materials on the table before shrugging with a smile.
"Well? That’s a bit difficult to answer. I could say yes, but also no." Ilhwa nodded slowly.
"Oh? Did that answer your question?"
"Yes."
From this conversation, she could confirm at least one thing. This woman was not Dokwol—at least, not yet. For now, that was enough.
Ilhwa’s gaze drifted away.
"Blood King’s Poison."
Crack.
The moxibustion tube in the Medicine Hall Master’s grip shattered.
"Choryeon."
When Ilhwa’s eyes returned to her, the Medicine Hall Master was no longer smiling. A faint, cold smile curved Ilhwa’s lips.
"You’ll have to help me now." --- The Blood King’s Poison was Choryeon’s hidden past infamy.
Originally, Choryeon had been an assistant under the imperial physician responsible for the emperor. But one day, the second prince was poisoned—and she was accused of the crime. By the time the imperial guards were dispatched to capture her, she had already vanished.
From then on, she bore the epithet Blood King’s Poison. Why she was now in the Namgung was unclear. But in the end, Choryeon was the one who killed the second prince.
When the prince had visited her village during a hunting excursion, he slaughtered all its inhabitants after a neighboring girl refused to serve him. Choryeon, the sole survivor, clawed her way into the imperial palace for revenge—and ultimately killed the prince. A tragic tale that brought tears to those who heard it.
‘Who knew Dokwol’s stories would be so useful now?’
In her past life, Ilhwa had liked the Medicine Hall but not Dokwol herself. No—to be precise, she simply hadn’t cared about Dokwol. But Dokwol had always clung to her whenever she visited, chattering incessantly.
This was just one of the stories Ilhwa had overheard in passing.
‘Still, to think she had placed a suggestion on me... How meticulous.’
A suggestion was a mind-controlling sorcery. Normally, the victim wouldn’t even realize they were under its influence—until the caster triggered it with a specific sound or action, seizing control of their mind. Ilhwa had thought herself free since the Blood Demon hadn’t bound her with blood subjugation.
But of course, the Blood Demon had no intention of letting her go so easily.
‘He won’t enslave me outright so I can kill him with my own hands, but he’ll still maintain minimal control.’
She had no idea when the suggestion had been planted. Given that she couldn’t remember, it must have been before she lost her memories—before the age of five.
‘There are two ways to break a suggestion. One is to kill the caster. The other is to let it fully take hold and rage until the suggestion burns itself out.’
Either eliminate the source, or endure until its power is exhausted. Those were the only options.
‘The reason I could shake it off today was likely because the caster wasn’t nearby. The connection was weak, so it was easier to sever.’
Which meant the Blood Demon could appear at any moment to manipulate her as he pleased. She had to find a way to break the suggestion before then—by any means necessary.
‘Last night’s attempt to control me was a warning.’
A threat against her defiance. A reminder that no matter how much she struggled, she could never escape his grasp. If she ignored this warning, he would undoubtedly come for her.
Within a day or two, at most.
‘If possible, I’d like to be recognized as a child of the Namgung before then.’
Once acknowledged as one of the Namgung, she would fall under their protection. The Blood Sect hadn’t yet amassed enough strength to openly reveal themselves in the Central Plains. They were still working in the shadows, infiltrating the martial world in preparation to swallow it whole.
In such a situation, they wouldn’t risk exposing themselves by provoking the Namgung just to retrieve her.
‘Once I’m recognized as a Namgung child, I’ll find a way to break the suggestion.’
She had asked the Medicine Hall Master to help her find a method. If that failed, she would have no choice but to eliminate the suggestion and return afterward.
‘But before that...’
"Hah! Haah!"
From the early hours of dawn, Ilhwa had made her way to the training grounds. The vigorous shouts echoing from within made her pause.
‘A child’s body has its limits when it comes to getting things done.’
Last night had made that clear. A child’s form was inconvenient in many ways—too restricted, too watched, too controlled. So to actively intervene in the Namgung’s affairs, she needed an adult—a faction—to act as her shield.
Someone who could protect her, divert prying eyes, and do what she couldn’t in this body.
‘It’d be good to have at least one trustworthy subordinate.’
Ilhwa stepped inside the training grounds.
"Haah! Hah!"
On the sparring platform, a single figure was practicing his swordplay. It was the Red Dragon Squad Leader from the 11th Unit—the same man she had crossed blades with the day before. That he was here training before sunrise answered the question she had come to ask.
‘Change begins with small resolutions. Even if those resolutions are born from despair.’
Beads of sweat dotted his face, his training robes already soaked through. A sign that he had been at this for a long time.
‘And in that sense...’
Watching the Red Dragon Squad Leader, completely absorbed in his training and unaware of her presence, Ilhwa’s lips curled faintly.
‘The change has already begun.’