The silence didn’t last long.
Snapping out of his daze, the man in black scrambled to retrieve his severed hand from the ground, shouting in disbelief.
“W-what are you all doing?! You think some little girl with blood still wet behind the ears actually released that sword energy?!”
It was a bold cry but the tremor in his voice only further rattled his already shaken comrades.
“She must’ve used some trick to deceive our eyes! Seize her head, at once—”
At that moment—
“Enough!”
A voice laced with inner energy rang out, cutting the air like a blade. The atmosphere instantly froze.
Blocking the path in front of the black-clad man was a middle-aged man with graying hair. His eyes were sunken, like deep caves, but within them gleamed a sharp and seasoned light.
He studied Yeo Il with unwavering focus before respectfully cupping his fists and speaking in a measured tone.
“Ignorant fools, unaware of their place, have obstructed a great senior’s path. I offer our deepest apologies.”
“Leader, what are you—?”
“Silence! You blind idiot. If you don’t want to make things worse, shut your mouth and worry about your wrist.”
Yeo Il narrowed her eyes and examined the man called “Leader.”
Despite his small frame, his presence was anything but weak. More importantly, even upon seeing her—an unassuming young woman—he neither let down his guard nor underestimated her.
There were few cases when someone this skilled would refer to a young woman as senior.
One of those rare cases: returning to youth— a legendary martial realm in which a master, having attained enlightenment, regains a youthful body.
Finally sensing the shift in atmosphere, the assassins swallowed hard and stiffened. A young swordswoman… and sword energy. It wasn’t a realm they could afford to underestimate.
“That level of external energy… I’ve rarely seen its equal in all my years. Might you honor us by sharing your title, Senior?”
Before Yeo Il could respond, Seol Yeong answered curtly.
“As if a true martial artist would take assassins as juniors.”
The leader’s eyes sharpened, but Seol Yeong simply stood his ground in front of Yeo Il, refusing to budge.
When no reply came from Yeo Il herself, the leader slowly nodded in understanding.
“…I see. You must be in seclusion. Then I’ll press no further. If you’ll permit it, we’ll quietly take our leave and ensure a mistake like today’s never happens again. Will that be acceptable?”
At last, Seol Yeong turned to Yeo Il, his expression practically shouting, “Really? You’re letting these trash walk away after what they just pulled? I nearly died!”
But Yeo Il only turned her gaze to the nearby carriage—silent, motionless.
Sighing, Seol Yeong caught the meaning.
“You’ll leave the carriage behind.”
As if to ask ‘Is that all?’, Yeo Il gave a slight nod toward the trembling young maid behind her.
Seol Yeong added.
“And the girl.”
After a pause, the leader spoke, tone subtly probing.
“Do you know who was in that carriage?”
Yeo Il didn’t answer.
“…So you do.”
A brief, silent exchange passed between the leader and his subordinate. Then he released his salute and took a step back.
“Very well. As you wish. But don’t pity Namgung Soyou. She’s not worth it.”
Yeo Il paid no attention to the warning. Instead, she called Seol Yeong over to inspect his injuries. Though grumbling, Seol Yeong didn’t swat her hand away.
By the time she looked up again, the assassins had vanished without a trace.
The young maid, who’d been holding her breath the entire time, now wept openly, bowing over and over again.
“Th-thank you… thank you so much, great warrior! You saved me—saved my lady! I’ll never forget your kindness, ever!”
She scrambled over the fallen log that had blocked the road and ran for the carriage.
Worried, clearly more than he let on, Seol Yeong followed.
“Miss! Miss, the thugs are gone! You’re safe now, our benefactor has saved you! Are you all right…?”
Yeo Il turned toward the old carriage where the two had stopped—frozen.
A beat later, she arrived to see the blood-soaked scene.
One, two, three…
Including the woman presumed to be Namgung Soyou, there were four corpses. One woman, three girls. Seol Yeong checked their pulses one by one, then shook his head grimly.
“They’re all dead. No wonder the assassins retreated so easily.”
“Looks that way.”
“…But something’s off. The others all died protecting their mistress. How is it this one girl alone managed to escape and come running to us?”
His gaze grew colder as he studied the young maid.
She clung to the lifeless Namgung Soyou, sobbing without restraint.
“You’re right… You’re absolutely right… hic… It should’ve been me… I should’ve died in her place… I should’ve stopped her… But she accepted her death so calmly…”
Still skeptical, Seol Yeong muttered.
“So your lady didn’t even resist?”
The girl wept harder, then fumbled with something at her neck. She held up a small crystal pendant.
“I-it’s because of this necklace… Miss Soyou gave it to me three days ago. It was her mother’s only keepsake… She said… she said if I made it out alive, to find her mother and give it to her…”
“She said that?”
“Hic. When she left home… Miss Soyou already knew. She knew she’d never return alive…”
Through the maid’s broken voice, Yeo Il pieced together what was clearly a twisted, tragic family history.
Did the Namgung clan head really have his own daughter killed?
She kept the thought to herself. This maid likely didn’t know the full truth either.
“She… she made a scene on purpose. So I’d have a chance to run. I didn’t know it would end like this—so miserable, so meaningless… She was so kind… the gentlest person in the world…”
“……”
“She wasn’t someone who should’ve died like this. She took me in when I was nothing—a street rat—washed me, fed me, gave me a life…”
The girl caressed the heads of the other maids lying beside their mistress.
“She did the same for them. We were all orphans. She raised us like sisters. They helped me escape just because I was the fastest runner… hic…”
There was no sign of falsehood in the girl’s words.
When Yeo Il had first seen the bodies, the three girls had died shielding Namgung Soyou. Right to the end, they’d clung to each other.
“Miss Soyou… she only ever wished to find the mother she was separated from as a child… That was all she ever wanted… And now, she’s dead. She lived her whole life in exile, and for what…?”
The maid’s sobs rang out, echoing over the entire mountain. Yeo Il waited until the girl had wept herself into hiccups, then spoke gently:
“Namgung Soyou was a good mistress.”
The girl nodded, wiping her nose.
“Y-yes…”
“And her only wish… was to find her mother.”
“Yes, great warrior.”
“Then why was she cast out from her own house?”
The girl looked up, startled, then ducked her head again, realizing she’d said too much.
“I-I’m not sure. She only said it was because she was an illegitimate daughter… and the clan head didn’t favor her.”
The sin of being born a concubine’s daughter, huh.
Yeo Il’s thoughts turned to the old man’s scroll. At the very bottom—right before the page had been torn—was a short, cryptic note.
There are rumors that the Namgung Clan keeps Salmak’s kill list hidden on their grounds. Thought it might be of use to you.
And now, of all places, she’d run into the Namgung Clan… here.
If this is coincidence, it’s absurd. If fate—then what timing.
Her fingers brushed against the jade ring in her sleeve.
The Salmak kill list and the jade ring.
There was a long-standing link between the two—one that Yeo Il couldn’t ignore.
She turned back to the maid and asked, voice calm.
“So how old was Namgung Soyou when she left home?”
“Huh? Um… Ten years before her coming-of-age, so… she would’ve been five.”
“Did any of her relatives visit her afterward?”
“N-no. All her half-siblings were cold. None ever came to see her. She never once summoned them either.”
“So you’re saying… from the moment she left at five, not a single relative laid eyes on her again?”
“Y-yes… As far as I know. But why do you ask…?”
A faint, mysterious smile curled at Yeo Il’s lips.
“I have a proposal for you. Will you hear it?”
The girl, startled, replied cautiously.
“A proposal? For someone like me…?”
Yeo Il looked her straight in the eyes.
“I’ll become Namgung Soyou in her place.”
