Before the blocked meridians, Namgung Mun knelt, his arm severed, yet his killing intent remained unshaken.
"Even if my limbs are torn apart, I will never betray Namgung! Kill me if you must! Even in hell, I will have my revenge!"
Flames flickered in his eyes—flames that burned for Namgung, and a blade of vengeance aimed at Ilhwa. Meeting his gaze, Ilhwa thought his final struggle was utterly futile. Everything had burned.
Everything had ended. Yet, until the very last moment, he clung to the flames of vengeance. That day, Ilhwa severed Namgung Mun’s limbs.
Still, he never revealed the location of Namgung’s secret techniques. Even as his blood clotted, his limbs were gone, and he could do nothing—even as he withered away, drenched in his own blood—his hatred never faded.
"…"
Ilhwa opened her eyes. Namgung Mun’s face, glaring at her until the end, flashed vividly in her mind. Not just his.
Even Outer Hall Master Namgung Yeom, whose head she had cleanly severed, refused to close his eyes in death. His wide-open pupils were filled with rage and resentment toward his enemy. Was that why, ever since stepping into Namgung, her chest had ached as if weighed down by a boulder?
Was it because facing them, pretending to converse casually, was so uncomfortable? Ilhwa stretched her hand toward the ceiling. Whenever she struggled to believe she had returned to childhood, she would examine her hands—a habit that had formed without her realizing.
Looking at her small hands made her past life feel like nothing more than a dream. She flexed her fingers, so frail they could barely grip a sword, and whispered to herself: "None of it happened." Like a mantra, she repeated softly: "Nothing… nothing happened." --- After resting briefly in bed, a servant soon arrived to announce mealtime.
The prepared lunch was lavish—dishes she had never seen in her past life. A soup with lamb, stir-fried duck with nuts and spices… Ilhwa tilted her head at one dish.
"How do you eat this?"
A broad dish wrapped tightly in long, green leaves hid its contents. She poked at the leaves with her chopsticks, unsure how to unwrap them. A young servant, noticing her struggle, hesitantly approached.
"May I help you?"
Ilhwa nodded, and the girl smiled brightly before deftly peeling away the leaves.
"This is a seafood stew. It’s best eaten with blanched bamboo shoots."
"Why wrap it in leaves?"
"These are bamboo leaves. They infuse the dish with fragrance and preserve its flavor."
"I see."
It looks delicious.
Refreshing, even.
The aroma rising from the unwrapped dish made her mouth water.
"Namgung serves only the finest meals to guests of the Heavenly Guest Room. They prioritize honored guests above all others—" "Mhm."
Ilhwa’s attention was already fixed on the food. The servant stifled a giggle.
"…?"
"Ah! Forgive me!"
The girl hastily bowed.
"It’s just… you’re so… adorable!"
Ilhwa’s eyebrow twitched.
Adorable? Me?
Was there a word less fitting for a killer like her?
"And to hear it from a Namgung servant, of all people."
She had no idea what the girl found amusing, but the excuse was absurd.
"It’s fine. You may leave."
The servant bowed and scurried out. Ilhwa resumed eating, unbothered. Namgung’s food was truly perfect. --- After finishing her meal, the servants swiftly cleared the dishes—their movements seamless, their footsteps silent.
They must have martial training too. Once alone, Ilhwa sat cross-legged on the bed and circulated her inner energy. Even in the cave, she had noticed—pure inner energy cleared her meridians, leaving her body refreshed.
Unlike the explosive, bloodthirsty energy of the Blood Arts, this was easy to control.
"I’m barely at the second-rate level now."
In her past life, just before death, she had reached the Hwajing realm—comparable to Namgung Mucheon. No, perhaps even stronger in raw energy.
"Though it wasn’t truly powerful, gained through unorthodox means."
But the mindset of one who had conquered that realm and one who hadn’t was incomparable. Of course, this time, she had resolved to walk the righteous path—progress would be slower. Yet, dying and reviving didn’t erase her insights.
"At the very least, I’ll reach Hwajing faster than before."
No—she had to. The right path, but swifter.
"…"
At some point, she stopped circulating her energy. The gathered energy in her dantian dispersed like smoke before fully settling.
"They’d notice if my energy increased too much."
She hadn’t officially learned Namgung’s inner energy techniques yet. She already knew them, but using them without formal instruction would raise suspicion.
"At least those three from the Celestial Tiger Hall would notice."
No matter how impatient she was, she couldn’t break trust before earning it. Until formally taught, she had to hide her knowledge of Namgung’s martial arts.
"But I can’t neglect training."
Scratching her cheek, she stood up. If inner energy was off-limits, she’d train her external techniques. Stepping outside, she spotted a servant standing about three meters from her door.
The servant noticed her gaze and approached.
"Do you need anything?"
"Is there a training ground I can use?"
"The Heavenly Guest Room has a private training ground for honored guests. Shall I guide you?"
Training alone would draw attention. Even if it was just external techniques, she didn’t want an audience.
"Not the private one. Anywhere else?"
"Honored guests may freely use any training ground in the Outer Hall. I’ll take you to the nearest one."
The Outer Hall’s training grounds would be bustling with disciples. Normally, a clan’s martial arts weren’t shown to outsiders—but Heavenly Guest Room guests were exceptions. They were usually royalty or high-ranking elders from other clans or sects.
Allowing them to observe training was a sign of respect. Of course, Outer Hall disciples only practiced basic sword forms, not secret techniques. Most honored guests avoided crowded training grounds anyway.
But for Ilhwa, blending in among trainees was ideal.
"It’s fine. I’ll go alone."
Dismissing the servant, she left the Heavenly Guest Room. As expected, she sensed someone following. Pretending to wander, she eventually turned toward the training grounds.
Showing her guest token, the gatekeeper gaped at her before hastily stepping aside. The sun had already passed its zenith. --- "She went to the training grounds?" Outer Hall Master Namgung Yeom arched an eyebrow at the servant’s report.
"Not the private one, but the Sword Unit’s?"
"Yes. I offered the private training ground, but she declined."
"Hmm…"
Most wouldn’t want others watching their training—especially honored guests, whose skills were beyond measure. When he met her, she hadn’t seemed profoundly skilled—but judging cultivation by sight alone was impossible. As a Heavenly Guest Room guest, she might be far stronger than him.
Yet, such individuals usually avoided public training.
"Why seek out a crowded training ground?"
"Did anyone find her suspicious?"
"Her plain attire and childlike appearance drew no suspicion."
"That’s fortunate."
News of the Heavenly Guest Room’s opening had sparked endless curiosity. Namgung’s young masters, the elders, even the hall masters—all had sent people to investigate. Of course, no answers were given.
"No one would expect the honored guest to wander the Outer Hall alone."
Recalling her stern expression, Namgung Yeom chuckled. He was curious about her identity too—but he wasn’t foolish enough to pry.
"Um…"
The servant hesitated. Namgung Yeom raised an eyebrow.
"Well?"
The servant fidgeted.
"She… she was poking at the bamboo-wrapped dish like a kitten batting at yarn."
Namgung Yeom blinked. Then, against his will, a laugh escaped him.
"Adorable?"
What an absurd thought. But for some reason, he couldn’t quite dismiss it.