Chapter 22
— Are you…
It was just as Woon-young was about to take a bite of noodles at the inn, exhausted.
— Are you the one known in the martial world as the Flower-Faced Rakshasa?
Two presences approached, and one of them spoke. Woon-young didn’t respond. The battles had always been fierce, and right now, she was simply hungry.
Since stepping into the martial world to track down her family’s enemies, countless people had approached her.
None with good intentions. They all just wanted to use her somehow.
‘Well, if they’re carrying swords, there’s no such thing as good intentions anyway.’
Ignoring them usually sufficed, and if that didn’t work, drawing her sword solved it.
Whenever Woon-young needed something, she preferred to deal with it directly herself. That’s why, early on, the martial world had given her the nickname “Flower-Faced Rakshasa.”
Flower-Faced (화용, 花容) was often used to describe beautiful female martial artists.
Rakshasa (나찰, 羅刹) referred to a fierce demon, a name often given to temperamental female masters.
Woon-young never introduced herself first, and she didn’t care what others called her.
— Oh dear. My apologies. You were just about to eat. We’ll wait, if that’s alright. May we sit?
Woon-young still didn’t answer. When there was even a sliver of peace, she made sure to eat and rest while circulating her energy. She silently resumed eating her noodles.
Unfazed by her demeanor, one of the men sat down across from her.
— I told you, didn’t I? She doesn’t talk.
Grumbling, the other man also sat down, arms crossed, wearing an annoyed expression.
— Noodles and stir-fried vegetables. Not enough for a hero returning from battle, I’d say. Let me treat you. Server, bring out a variety of meat and fish dishes!
The mention of meat made Woon-young look up. The man smiled with satisfaction upon making eye contact. Woon-young thought his expression was utterly smug.
Both men were strikingly handsome.
The one who spoke first wore a white long robe, and the grumbling one wore a blue one.
The grumbler had a relaxed air about him, the kind of freedom only the strong exude. His sharp features made him seem both stubborn and bold.
The smiling one had a flowery face with an intellectual aura, like a scholar. But Woon-young wasn’t fooled. Though his demeanor seemed gentle and drowsy, his eyes were cool and sharp. His hands were full of calluses—clearly the hands of a seasoned martial artist.
The man in white spoke.
— Information that comes at a high price should be put to good use.
It seemed they had obtained her whereabouts from Haomun, the information network.
Haomun was allowed to sell filtered information. Not that they had much detail anyway.
Still, Woon-young had often gotten free intel from them before. They needed to earn a living too.
— So, how about we have a little chat while the food’s being prepared?
— Fine by me.
Woon-young replied coolly.
— Oh, we haven’t introduced ourselves yet. I’m Jegal Dam from the Military Affairs Division of the Martial Alliance. And this here is…
— Namgung Hwi.
— Leader of the Martial Alliance’s Blue Dragon Corps.
Woon-young smirked faintly as she looked at them.
It wasn’t the first time the Martial Alliance had approached her. But Woon-young had no intention of affiliating with any organization.
She had started training in martial arts and entered the martial world at twenty. The first thing she did was investigate the annihilation of her clan.
That was when she first crossed paths with Haomun. They provided her with information about the five years she had spent in seclusion in Hwangsan.
They said it wasn’t until a month after the fall of the Seol clan that the Martial Alliance even became aware of the tragedy.
Even though Wuhan, where the Martial Alliance was based, was only 200 li (about 80 km) from Hong-an-hyeon, where the massacre occurred.
So close that one could almost trip and fall into it, and yet, they claimed they had learned of the bloodshed only much later. And that by then, the culprits had vanished.
Woon-young was dumbfounded when she heard that.
Though, with certain conditions, it might be believable.
The Martial Alliance was a massive organization. So perhaps there were spies within who disrupted the flow of information.
That could explain why they were able to silence the merchants traveling between Hong-an and the Seol household. It would have been easy to prevent the truth from reaching the higher-ups.
If not that, then the Martial Alliance was just utterly incompetent.
Either way, the situation was a mess.
Five more years passed, and Woon-young finally managed to catch the tail of the culprits.
As absurd as it sounded, they had revealed themselves.
Under the name Cheongung (Heavenly Palace).
Once operating in the shadows, Cheongung suddenly launched a full-on assault on the martial world. The peaceful factions, regardless of their alignment, were wiped out in an instant.
And Woon-young, having finally identified her family’s enemies, was now fighting for revenge.
— Seol Woon-young.
— I believe this is the first time I’ve heard that name.
— Well, it’s not like it’s a big secret.
She didn’t mind sharing her name.
— In any case, I don’t work with the Martial Alliance.
— May I ask why?
— Don’t bother, I said. It’s pointless.
— Now’s not the time for emotional decisions.
Jegal Dam asked cautiously. Namgung Hwi grumbled.
The new dishes arrived. Woon-young picked up her chopsticks with a satisfied expression.
— Do you know this, miss?
Just as she was about to eat some meat, Jegal Dam continued speaking, ignoring Woon-young’s annoyed face.
— If you join the Alliance, you receive a monthly stipend. The amount depends on your ability, but surely, you could eat meat anytime you like?
At the word stipend, Woon-young’s ears perked up.
— You don’t even have to formally join. If you just work with us, getting expense coverage is no issue.
— Seriously, hyung. You think she’d change her mind just for that?
Namgung Hwi didn’t notice Woon-young’s reaction, but the truth was, she was tempted.
Very easily. Very much.
— Oh? Hmm. How much are we talking?
— Meat tastes best when it’s hot. Why don’t we talk after you eat?
Jegal Dam smiled and pushed the meat dish closer to her.
Namgung Hwi muttered in disbelief as he looked at Woon-young.
— Is she… is the Sword Demon really being swayed by meat?
Woon-young nodded and eagerly dug in with her chopsticks.
Yes. Meat didn’t taste good once it cooled down.
When Woon-young finally left the inn, she wasn’t alone. The two men walked beside her like bodyguards.
Their destination, of course, was Wuhan, home of the Martial Alliance.
“Huff, huff… Ugh. What a restless dream.”
Woon-young felt off throughout her morning training because of her dream.
“That sly bastard. Ugh, I fell for meat of all things…”
Despite her nanny’s protests, she started physical training that very day. She began by walking.
She wasn’t strong enough yet to go far, so she walked around the Seol estate’s inner courtyard.
“Let’s just make it to the hall. I can do it. Training helps clear the mind.”
Dragging her reluctant legs, Woon-young walked toward the clan leader’s hall.
“Young lady! Young lady!”
“What?”
Just as she was nearly there, Hyang-a ran up in a panic.
“Sogyo unnie is back!”
“Well, it’s about time.”
Sogyo, who had gone to Wuhan on business, had returned safely. What a relief.
Sogyo was an excellent warrior, but that didn’t stop Woon-young from worrying.
“And, and…”
“And?”
“She brought… a guest.”
“A guest?”
Woon-young stopped and looked at Hyang-a. But the voice that answered her came from somewhere else.
“That guest, I believe, is me. Miss.”
Woon-young froze. It couldn’t be. It shouldn’t be.
She heard a voice that had no business being here. Though the tone was quite different from memory, she instantly knew who it belonged to.
Woon-young turned her head slowly, very slowly toward the voice.
Her neck felt like it creaked as it moved.
She was right.
A boy in his teens was walking toward her. Though his face was young, she knew him all too well.
Wearing a white robe, Jegal Dam walked up and stopped in front of her. He cupped his hands in greeting.
— You must be Miss Seol Woon-young. It’s an honor. I’m Dam of the Jegal clan.
He raised his head, the corners of his lips curling into a radiant smile.
Woon-young found it infuriating, but others would surely call it picture-perfect.
‘You smug bastard… What the hell are you doing here?!’
