Chapter 6.2: No Wind, No Waves

"Um."

"Is someone coming?"

Kang-oh turned his head and looked outside, and Woo asked. Woo was supposed to lie down after receiving the physician's treatment, but he had asked to be allowed outside for some fresh air due to feeling stuffy. It was good that he had managed to free himself from Kang-oh's repeated attempts to help him up, like dealing with feathers that might fly away.

However, he suddenly stopped and looked outside the clinic.

"No."

Kang-oh shook his head. Woo couldn't confirm whether his words were true, and it made him a bit frustrated. In the past, he would have easily sensed someone's presence at this distance, but now that was impossible.

It felt as if one of his arms had disappeared. Perhaps, he was even more restricted than that.

"Are you really okay not going back to rest?"

"I'm fine."

Woo nodded. In truth, his physical condition wasn't very good. He had been surprised when Kang-oh quickly noticed this and called for a doctor, who had advised him to rest.

The problem was Kang-oh. He had sent Yeon-jin back. This was essentially the same as saying that he would stay behind to take care of Woo himself.

Woo's gaze wavered and eventually landed on the window. His thoughts were preoccupied with Kang-oh due to last night's events. Beside the withered flower, he saw the ointment.

Right now, Kang-oh was only focused on him out of concern, but there was a chance that he would eventually notice it as he looked around the room later.

In truth, these were nothing special. The withered flower could be explained as something he hadn't bothered to clean up, and the ointment could be dismissed as something he had carelessly thrown after receiving it. However, he still didn't want Kang-oh to see that he had kept these two things together

It was unnecessary. It was fine. Don't worry about it. Despite repeatedly pushing those thoughts away, the idea that Kang-oh might see him holding onto the things Kang-oh had given him without discarding any of them made him anxious.

That was why he had said he wanted to go for a walk.

Though Kang-oh had insisted that he rest, since even a slight fever meant he should take a break, Woo had stubbornly made his request, and Kang-oh reluctantly followed behind him.

He pushed Kang-oh away, claiming that he could walk on his own. However, Woo's unsteady steps caught Kang-oh's attention. His posture, unable to balance properly, caused his body to sway with every step, making him look fragile.

"Your face is pale."

Kang-oh murmured. Woo turned his head to avoid his gaze.

"How about going back now and opening the window?"

"I'm fine. Cough."

A small cough escaped from Woo's lips. As he covered his mouth, Kang-oh's expression became more serious.

"I don't understand why you're pushing yourself so much."

"…"

Pushing himself…

With no other words to say, Woo glanced sideways, taking in the view of Hee-do Won's beautiful garden. He was becoming familiar with this splendid garden without even realizing it.

Even though he had lost all his memories, it seemed that Kang-oh's love for flowers was a part of his nature that could not be overshadowed by any magic.

The relationship between them was deeply unbalanced, with Woo carrying far more weight. The time they spent remembering each other, the conversations they had, and the emotions they shared in certain moments— all of that was something Woo held onto, while Kang-oh had forgotten.

Thus, he had to be even more careful not to be discovered.

When he first saw Kang-oh not recognizing him, Woo had felt quite shaken.

He had made up his mind to bear everything while staying in Black Sky Clan, but seeing the boy who had once followed him like a little black chick grow into a young man and look at him with indifferent eyes, as though he were a stranger, was something he could never have imagined without experiencing it himself.

"Cough... cough, cough."

The sudden chill in the air made him cover his mouth and cough. Perhaps it was because his neck had been squeezed by Ye Jin-rang's hand, but the pain was worse than a regular cough.

His throat burned, but he raised his head calmly, only to find Kang-oh's face had turned stiff with a terrifying expression.

"Third... Disciple?"

Without hesitation, he scooped Woo up into his arms.

"Please, put me down!"

Blood... after spitting blood, you're still saying that?"

Kang-oh scolded as he stormed out of Hee-do Won, his voice full of anger. How could his condition suddenly worsen like this right after the physician had just left?

'I... coughed up blood?'

Woo looked down at his palm. He could see red blood staining it. The vivid color made him feel a bit dizzy, and he closed his eyes. He had thought that if he lived quietly, he could just disappear without anyone noticing, but he couldn't understand why he kept showing such a side of himself only in front of Kang-oh.

No matter how much the Third Internal Officer tormented him, his body, which had barely held on for the last eight years, began to deteriorate the moment he entered Hee-do Won.

There was something that clicked. It must have been the injury caused by Jin-rang stirring Solitary Poison last night.

As an ordinary physician, it would be impossible to guess the presence of Solitary Poison within Woo's body. No matter how skilled someone was, they wouldn't be able to recognize the existence of Solitary Poison. That was the terrifying nature of it. It secretly infiltrates the host's body, coils within, and when the practitioner gives the command, it causes pain in the body.

Since the physician had no way of knowing this fact, he simply diagnosed Woo's condition as a case of fatigue.

Woo, accustomed to suppressing his pain, didn't realize how bad it had gotten until he started coughing up blood. Surprisingly, it was his habit of silently enduring his pain that led to the situation getting worse.

Seeing Woo suddenly cough up blood, Kang-oh had no time to spare for any arguments; he activated his skill and rushed toward the Medical Hall. A few of the Black Sky Clan's warriors, who saw this, were surprised by the pale face of the Third Disciple and puzzled by his reaction. They were also curious about the person he was holding.

Woo curled his body as much as he could, but he knew that this wouldn't prevent rumors from spreading, so he merely bit down on his lips.

Kang-oh reached the Medical Hall in an instant. Just then, two men were helping a patient out. The eyes of those who saw Kang-oh and Woo in his arms widened in surprise.

However, Kang-oh was not one to be concerned about such reactions.

"Where is the physician?!"

As the door to the clinic swung open with a bang, the physician who had just returned from Hee-do Won rushed to greet the Third Disciple. Holding a blood-stained knife, he was already pale, and when he saw Kang-oh's fierce demeanor, his legs began to tremble.

"Th-Third Disciple!"

"This man has coughed up blood. Examine him."

The physician felt a wave of dread wash over him at the sight of the patient he had just examined now cradled in Kang-oh's arms. Having just returned from an emergency visit, he found the medical hall in chaos. He had heard that the Second Disciple had cut off the tongue of someone who spread rumors carelessly, and he had just finished dealing with the aftermath.

Though the warrior had fallen out of favor with the Second Disciple, he was still a patient, so he was obliged to treat him. He was now left wondering how to deal with the knife that had become tainted with blood, when suddenly the Third Disciple appeared at his doorstep.

It was only natural for the physician to feel a surge of fear at the ominous gaze directed at him. After all, the patient he had examined had suddenly vomited blood, and it wouldn't be strange for the Third Disciple to hold him responsible for it.

"F-First, this way..."

The physician stammered as he guided Kang-oh towards the bed. Fortunately, the room was quite empty, as the patients had fled right after Yeom Seung-han had left.

The physician took the man's wrist and checked his pulse. It was still steady and normal. Though the patient seemed weak, there was no sign of anything severe enough to cause him to vomit blood.

As the physician tilted his head in confusion, Kang-oh growled beside him.

"Are you going to say it's just fatigue again?"

"Th-that is..."

When someone who typically doesn't assert their authority suddenly tries to show strength, it only becomes more terrifying.

"My diagnosis remains the same. The pulse is somewhat weak, but there are no significant symptoms. The fact that he coughed up blood suggests that there may be damage to the lungs, but the patient doesn't seem to have any chest pain. Furthermore, his complexion doesn't appear dull, and judging by the wound on his neck, it seems like the esophagus might be injured…"

The physician fumbled, feeling pressured to say something, but lost his train of thought, making his explanation a mess. At first, Kang-oh patiently listened, but his expression grew increasingly colder.

"So, you're saying that being strangled is the cause?"

The icy tone of Kang-oh's voice felt like a slap to the face, and the physician could only bow his head deeply in silence.

One person was angry, and the other was terrified, making it difficult for the conversation to proceed smoothly. Moreover, Kang-oh's anger wasn't directed at the physician for the misdiagnosis.

Sensing this keenly, Woo tugged gently at Kang-oh's sleeve. When Kang-oh turned to look at him, Woo subtly shook his head.

"…"

The atmosphere around Kang-oh slowly settled. Though he still furrowed his brow, Woo confirmed that he had calmed down to some extent and turned his head toward the physician.

"My... my throat hurts when I cough. Could you... could you prescribe something for it?"

"Y-Yes! I'll go get it right away!"

The physician hurriedly left, almost as if fleeing. Kang-oh, hands clasped, silently watched Woo, who was sitting quietly on the bed.

"Why did you protect that man?"

"Third Disciple... I thought... I thought you would regret it."

Kang-oh raised an eyebrow at the unexpected response.

"Regret? What do you mean by that?"

He believed that Woo had drawn attention to himself to protect the physician. But now, he was saying he was worried that Kang-oh would regret it?

"Third Disciple, you're... you're kind-hearted. So even if you threaten the physician now, I thought later on you might feel guilty."

"…"

Kind hearted…

Kang-oh could have easily retorted that it was ridiculous to label him with such an embarrassing word, but for some reason, he kept his mouth shut. It wasn't because someone had noticed an aspect of him that no one else had seen. To be honest, Kang-oh was more of a dry person than a kind one and he had never been particularly attached to the concept of affection.

It was just that he realized that to that man, he appeared to be a kind person... And so, he lost the will to argue.

Unaware that he had managed to silence one of the most skilled warriors in Black Sky Clan with just a single word, Woo exchanged a few words with the returning physician, received his medicine, and got up from the bed.

Kang-oh, who had been anxious the entire time as he carried Woo all the way here, became calm once again, just like his usual self. Standing up stiffly, Kang-oh placed a cloth on Woo's body. He had worried the wind might be colder than usual when using his skill. Although he had brought Woo out in a single layer of clothing in a flurry of confusion, he now had enough composure to pay attention to such details.

Kang-oh turned to the physician and said, "I'll borrow this. I will have it returned later."

He made no mention of the initial misdiagnosis.

"Of course. Please take care," the physician replied.

Without even glancing back, Kang-oh stepped over the threshold of the infirmary, carrying Woo with him as he disappeared outside.

The physician let out a silent sigh of relief, grateful that the Third Disciple had chosen not to mention any punishment.

Though the physician had been working at Black Sky Clan for quite some time, today was the first day that felt truly eventful. Feeling as if some bad luck needed to be purged, he staggered to his feet and he watched the patient being carried away in Kang-oh's arms, just like how they had entered earlier, overwhelmed by a strange feeling.

He had often visited Hee-do Won for treatment and considered himself to be relatively insignificant, but he hadn't expected Woo to protect him. The physician thought to himself that there must be a reason why the Third Disciple was so fond of him, shaking his head in disbelief.

He couldn't believe that he, even for a moment, had thought of the servant and the Third Disciple as a pair. If the Second Disciple were to find out about this, the physician was certain that he would meet a tragic end, just like the patient whose tongue had been severed in half.

"I need to get to work. I need to work."

The physician muttered to himself, moving to dispose of the knife stained with the patient's blood.

***

The return journey was somewhat calmer than the frantic rush to the Medical Hall. Woo leaned half-heartedly against Kang-oh's shoulder, he tried to walk on his own, but Kang-oh was resolute and refused to let him walk by himself.

"Don't be stubborn when your condition isn't good."

"What if the Grandmaster sees us like this? I will not be able to face him again."

"If Master hadn't touched you in the first place, none of this would have happened."

Kang-oh's voice was unusually cold. It was connected to what had happened at the infirmary. He was angry.

However, it wasn't anger directed at the physician who failed in his duty or at the cause of the situation, Ye Jin-rang. Rather, he was angry at himself.

"You… You shouldn't say that."

"Are you still defending Master? Even though your throat is damaged to the point where blood comes up with your cough?"

"He doesn't directly lay a hand on me usually. It's just that the situation... If I leave Hee-do Won, everything… will be fine."

"…"

At those words, Kang-oh felt his chest tighten. It was as if he were trapped in a cloud of thick black smoke, the heat reaching from his throat all the way to his chest. The air felt suffocating and burning.

"Can't I really go back to serving the Grandmaster?"

Woo looked up at Kang-oh, asking the question for what felt like the umpteenth time. It was clear that he wouldn't be granted his wish again, but it was better to make an attempt than staying at Hee-do Won and unintentionally triggering Kang-oh's sealed memories.

"Why do you want to go back?"

Kang-oh threw the question out aggressively.

"I... I…"

"Do you think that if you go back, Master will cherish you? Do you think he'll praise you for returning?"

There was no way that would happen.

It was unusual for Jin-rang to spare someone's life while still harboring hatred toward them. At least, that was how Kang-oh saw it. The only exception was Woo.

Jin-rang will give whatever Kang-oh wanted, probably even Black Sky Clan. However, his Master has never showed signs of backing down when it came to Woo. He might overlook Kang-oh killing the Third Internal Officer, but he could not stand the idea of Kang-oh taking the servant and protecting him.

Jin-rang must have his reasons. However, unlike before, Kang-oh no longer had the desire to understand those reasons.

Since that day when Kang-oh had told his master that it would be better to kill the servant, who was supposedly the enemy's son, according to his master, too much time had passed. It felt like a distant memory now.

"N-no…"

"Then why do you want to go back? You want to go back to being abused again?"

Woo did not respond. Kang-oh realized that he had inadvertently struck a nerve, and his face turned pale.

It was a mindset Kang-oh couldn't understand. No, most people would not agree to live a life of suffering. But at the same time, he could feel how broken Woo was, and it was clear that his despair ran deep, in a truly tragic way.

Kang-oh's gaze became heavy. Woo averted his eyes from his intense stare.

"I... I'm not worth worrying over, Master."

At Woo's muttering, Kang-oh responded firmly.

"What I choose to care about is not something you get to decide."

Having grown accustomed to Woo's repeated rejections, Kang-oh was able to speak with a certain calmness. But looking at Woo's face, filled with sadness, twisted his insides.

"Last time, I told you... that I was born out of sin, didn't I?"

After a moment of silence amidst the passing scenery, Woo spoke in a soft voice.

"I've been paying for my sins for the past eight years. And I still might not have repaid them all."

"Watching you, it seems endless." Kang-oh murmured.

If only the relationship between the Master and Woo could be completely erased, but the grudges in this world can't simply be cut away with a sword or burned away with fire. They remain.

When they arrived at Hee-do Won, Kang-oh helped Woo down. Woo staggered for a moment.

Was it because of the poison? His condition seemed to have deteriorated rapidly. Enduring pain was not particularly difficult, but now, even if he tried to endure, his body wavered first. Perhaps his will to hold on was wearing thin.

Eight years was a long time—enough to completely break a person.

"You stopped me from scolding the physician and said I would regret it."

"…"

Although he felt he should humble himself, he spoke up.

The Third Disciple of Black Sky Clan scolding a physician over the trivial matter of a servant didn't look good. More than anything, the anger was ultimately directed at Kang-oh himself.

"When I asked for a reason, you said I was a kind hearted person."

Kang-oh's voice lowered, as if sharing a secret meant only for the two of them.

"Y-yes, that's right."

Kang-oh was tormented by his inability to protect Woo from his Master. If he were to scold the physician right now, it would only serve to hurt himself later as he reflected on the incident.

Woo could sense the feelings in Kang-oh's heart, even if he himself was unaware of them.

He had always been watching him.

Even when Kang-oh had forgotten everything, when he reached out in pity for Woon, during the times when his growing affection caused him to waver, and even when he had a falling out with his master, Woo had always been watching him.

"You called me kind, yet you won't even let me care for you. If I can't do that, do I really deserve to be called kind?"

Eight years was enough time to come to understand Kang-oh, who had lost all his memories and become someone else.

"It's because you care about someone like me that I consider you kind."

Woo smiled faintly, but it was a self-deprecating smile.

"Y-You're kind, and also gentle."

Woo clasped his hands together and bowed deeply.

"Please… grant me permission to go back."

As Kang-oh carried him on his back and ran towards the medical hall, he felt it. Kang-oh's emotions were becoming so vivid, so palpable, that there was no way he could not notice.

He had seen that same emotion in those pitch-black eyes long ago. That was why he couldn't help but recognize it now.

But before Kang-oh could realize it himself, Woo had to leave.

"So, in the end, you're saying that only by leaving Hee-do Won and my side… will you finally be at ease?"

"Y-yes."

At first, Woo pushed Kang-oh away, telling himself it was the right thing to do. But in the end, he still bore responsibility for how things turned out.

Eight years… That wasn't nearly enough time for Woo to truly let go. He had been selfish, holding on from afar. Simply pushing Kang-oh away wasn't enough to truly sever their connection.

"I wish to go back and continue atoning for my sins."

Kang-oh carefully examined Woo's expression.

He was choosing hardship over comfort, trading a peaceful path for one filled with pain and suffering. Yet, his expression remained completely calm.

"You…"

Kang-oh's face twisted. Woo paused, sensing the tension in the air.

Words formed but never left his lips, like a blacksmith reshaping flawed iron in the fire.

Woo fixed his gaze on Kang-oh's lips. Kang-oh knew that if he didn't decide, Woo will just ask the same thing again.

Saying no should have been simple, yet ignoring the repeated request was becoming harder. Kang-oh could feel himself wavering.

"…You cannot stay by Master's side."

At the words that Kang-oh managed to force out, Woo's eyes widened slightly.

"Like I said before, I'll find a suitable place for you and send you there."

"…That…"

If Woo couldn't stay by his side, then he couldn't let him fall into Master's hands either. The moment he lets Woo go, Kang-oh wouldn't be able to protect him anymore.

Even after making his decision, Kang-oh's chest tightened. It felt like setting a lone sailboat adrift in an endless sea—one carrying the treasure he held dearest.

"If you want to leave Hee-do Won, I'll let you go. But I won't let you go back to Master."

Realizing that this was the best compromise Kang-oh could offer, Woo decided to take a step back.

"Th-thank you for granting my request."

As Woo bowed his head in gratitude, Kang-oh let out a bitter smile.

It was almost laughable. Hearing such a sincere thank-you made it sound as if leaving his side was more important than settling his unresolved ties with Jin-rang.

Trying to suppress the twisted feelings within him, Kang-oh bit down hard on his lip.

"You..."

He was about to turn away, but unable to hold back the ache inside, he finally let out the words he had been keeping in.

"I wish you had been a little kinder to me."

It was no more than a faint trace of resentment, like a single drop of blood falling into a vast lake. But the moment he spoke, Woo's face turned pale, and Kang-oh immediately regretted his words.

But the words he had spoken could not be taken back, and the one who had been rejected time and time again could not reach out to smooth over that pale expression.

Kang-oh turned away, leaving Woo alone at the entrance of the Hee-do Won.

Sad eyes, like those of a helpless fawn, followed his retreating figure.

Endlessly.

***

The next day, Kang-oh headed to the Honamgak alone. Normally, he would have been with Woo, but today that was different. It felt as if he had been dragging along someone who didn't want to be there, all because he thought keeping him close would help him get used to it.

His chest felt tight. When he had asked Woo to open up just a little more, Woo had only lowered his head, refusing to hold onto him. He hadn't expected anything, yet he still felt bitter. It was proof of his own foolishness.

The memory of Woo being at a loss for words after Kang-oh's resentful outburst kept replaying in his mind, keeping him up all night. The thought that he had done something terrible wouldn't leave him alone.

As Kang-oh appeared in the Honam-gak, the first person to greet him was Il-woon. He had come to welcome his lord. However, unlike usual, Woo was not by Kang-oh's side.

"Why have you come alone?"

At Il-woon's question, Kang-oh sharply turned his head away, a clear sign that he didn't want to answer. Worried that something had happened to the guest from Hee-do Won, Il-woon hesitated. But when he saw that Kang-oh's face held not concern, but self-reproach, he kept his mouth shut.

Something must have happened last night.

"…He won't be coming anymore," Kang-oh muttered bitterly.

Before Il-woon could ask what had happened, Kang-oh continued.

"Do you remember when I asked you to look into peaceful, comfortable villages for an ordinary person who hasn't learned martial arts?"

At his lord's question, Il-woon felt a sense of confusion but answered dutifully.

"Yes. However, you didn't ask for it afterward, so I just organized the information separately."

"Bring it to me today."

"Understood."

As Il-woon bowed and left to retrieve the documents, Kang-oh gripped his sword and stepped into the center of the training ground. The members of the Southern Lake Group gathered, wondering if the Third Disciple was looking for a sparring partner. However, Kang-oh didn't call on a single one of them to step forward.

Because he wasn't confident he could control his strength.

When Kang-oh drew a real blade instead of a wooden sword, the gathered Honam Unit members instinctively stepped back about four meters, their faces practically shouting, 'Oh no, this is dangerous!'

Whenever their lord's thoughts were tangled, he would perform sword dances—usually to sort out his newly gained insights into martial arts.

Any martial artist in their right mind wouldn't want to step into the trajectory of Kang-oh's sword at a time like this. Yet, no matter how sharply his beloved sword gleamed, not a single member of the Southern Lake Group felt the urge to run away.

Watching the Third Disciple's sword dance even once was enough to learn a lot. Most people learn standardized sword techniques and follow their structure, but Kang-oh incorporated not only what he had been taught but also the experience he had gained in real combat. As a result, his sword dance looked natural, but he had a special talent for combining different sword techniques and their principles.

There was even a well-known story about the Third Disciple's sword dance.

A few years ago, by a riverbank where willow branches drooped low, the Grandmaster of Black Sky Clan was drinking with his disciples. At one point, he ordered the youngest among them, the Third Disciple, to display the results of his training. Without hesitation, Kang-oh stepped forward, drew his short sword, and began his sword dance.

His swift and powerful movements, the way the tip of his blade met the distant sunlight—it all came together in a mesmerizing display. But it was more than just aesthetic beauty. The sheer force radiating from the Third Disciple's movements made it clear just how much effort he had put into his training. When he finally finished his dance and returned, Ye-jin-rang laughed heartily and offered him a drink.

"Your energy flows freely, and your body moves as you will it. Your achievements are truly remarkable."

"I only showed you my lacking skills."

It was a pleasing sight—the master offering praise and the disciple responding with humility. However, some couldn't help but think, 'So this is how deeply the Grandmaster of Black Sky Clan cherishes the Third Disciple', seeing him receive such high praise for a mere sword dance.

But those who stayed behind to clean up after the gathering were left in shock. As they moved about, tidying up, they noticed something—thin willow leaves, sliced so cleanly they were no thicker than strands of hair.

If the leaves had simply fallen to the ground, it wouldn't have been so surprising. After all, Black Sky Clan had no shortage of experts capable of making leaves drop without even touching them.

However, the leaves that brushed against Kang-oh's blade still clung to their branches, swaying gently in the wind.

It was as if they were fake leaves, stitched together with green threads.

The Third Disciple had managed to slice the leaves without causing them to fall from the tree. To the casual observer, it might have seemed like he was merely performing a sword dance. But the fact that he had only cut the leaves that swayed unpredictably in the wind—without disturbing the rest—was nothing short of astonishing.

This feat required not only sharp vision but also mastery of swift swordsmanship, along with the ability to read the wind's movement. And to weave all of that into a single dance-like motion? Such a feat was impossible without an incredibly deep understanding of swordsmanship.

It was no wonder Jin-rang had laughed heartily and praised him.

This story quickly spread like a legend among the Black Sky Clan's servants.

Soon after, rumors followed—trees planted near the residences of several mid-level warriors within the clan had suffered for a time. Many had tried to replicate the Third Disciple's feat, only to end up cutting into the tree trunks or chopping off entire branches.

There are countless rumors about Kang-oh's sword dance—if one were to gather all those who wished to witness it, they could fill Honamgak to the brim and still have a line stretching all the way to Hee-do Won. The members of the Southern Lake Group, anticipating the performance that others would pay a fortune to see, huddled together. Some even went to fetch comrades who had yet to arrive at the training grounds.

As Kang-oh drew upon his internal energy, his sword, Dan-sa, let out a deep hum. Its resonance left everyone speechless. For someone so young to make a blade sing—his internal energy was far beyond ordinary.

With his eyes closed, Kang-oh listened intently to the faint trembling of the blade before taking his first step. He was not aiming to strike an invisible enemy, but to release the tension building up inside him.

Hundreds, thousands—perhaps even tens of thousands of swings. The sword paths he had memorized through sheer repetition, the experience accumulated from executing them, all began to unfold at the tip of his blade. The flow of his actions was smooth and beautiful, resembling a dance rather than a mere demonstration of swordsmanship. Yet, to call it merely a dance would be misleading. The trajectory traced by his sword was anything but ordinary. Even though it cut through empty air, the wind split apart with a dying gasp. If there had been anyone standing in its path, they would have been cut down without exception. Just the thought alone sent chills down the spines of those watching.

But what was truly unnerving was Kang-oh himself. His expression remained utterly blank as he moved, his gaze fixed solely on the tip of his sword, devoid of any emotion.

Watching the Third Disciple, it felt like standing in the warmth of spring yet being struck by the chill of winter. Only the distant chirping of birds reminded them of the season.

Kang-oh stood alone, completely unaffected by the murmurs and admiration around him. A sensation that had taken root deep in his chest after being repeatedly pushed back now consumed him.

His senses were sharper than ever, sending tingling sensations down to his fingertips. His breath, the wind stirred by his movements—everything blended together seamlessly.

He could distinctly feel the flutter of his clothes, and his beloved sword felt like an extension of his fingertips. As he stretched out his arm and stepped forward as if gliding through the air, his movements were nothing short of extraordinary.

The members of the Southern Lake Group held their breath, captivated by Kang-oh's performance.

Even the Third Disciple's footwork had reached an exceptional level, and as Kang-oh's sword dance reached its peak, their eyes were no longer following him but his shadow

They knew that if that blade were aimed at them, death would be inevitable. Yet the trajectory of his sword was so breathtakingly beautiful that it sent chills down their spines.

How much training would it take? How much natural talent would one need to reach such a level?

One moment, his sword skimmed the ground as if splitting the training grounds in two; the next, it soared like a dragon ascending to the heavens. His movements were so fluid and free that they could only be described as effortless, yet Kang-oh himself wore a dissatisfied expression.

He had thought that letting loose would ease the weight in his chest. Unexpectedly, it only grew heavier.

'Stay focused. Your sword is a mirror that reflects you. Never forget to keep your mind as clear and calm as still water. If the wielder is unsettled, the sword will be as well. But if the wielder's mind is sharp, the sword's movements will be just as precise.'

As Kang-oh repeated Jin-rang's stern words in his mind, he adjusted his grip on his sword.

"Th-Third Disciple!"

A member of the Southern Lake Group came rushing over. Despite being a trained martial artist, she was breathless from how fast she had run.

"There's been a murder! A murder has occurred!"

Kang-oh frowned and sheathed his sword. Even amid the commotion stirred by the shocking news, some onlookers held back their disappointment and made way for the messenger.

"Lead the way."

Just then, Il-woon arrived and quickly assessed the situation before falling in step behind Kang-oh. The pale-faced member of the Southern Lake Group steadied herself and took the lead. She guided them to a communal well located in the backyard of the Honamgak.

"This is the place."

She pointed to the scene and stepped aside. Kang-oh's eyes fell on a corpse, its body shoved upside down into the well.

Il-woon's face hardened. This well was one of the Honamgak's water sources.

"Identify the victim first."

At Kang-oh's order, Il-woon stepped forward and pulled the corpse out. The victim was dressed in a simple black martial robe, but their face had been brutally disfigured.

Il-woon rummaged through the corpse's belongings before reporting back. Meanwhile, the Southern Lake Group member who had guided Kang-oh here examined the man's physical features and gasped.

"The tongue... it's split in half."

"His tongue?" Kang-oh asked, puzzled.

"Yes."

"It doesn't look like it was done during the murder."

Stepping closer, Kang-oh examined the dead man's tongue and muttered to himself.

"Inform the physician. Check if there have been any recent cases of patients with split tongues."

"Understood."

Cutting off a tongue was a common punishment among the Black Path for those who failed to keep secrets—or for those who spread malicious rumors. If the wound had been fresh, it might have meant that the person who killed him was someone who held a grudge against him. However, given that the wound appeared to have healed, it was unlikely to have been inflicted during the murder.

The fact that the body was found in Honamgak made things even more suspicious. Even though the well was located on the outskirts rather than the center of Honamgak, it was still part of Black Sky Clan territory, a place frequented by martial artists throughout the day.

Each and every member of the Southern Lake Group had been personally selected by Kang-oh. There were almost no people capable of slipping past their eyes and committing murder in Honamgak's backyard. Moreover, the corpse bore signs of resistance, suggesting the victim had struggled fiercely before dying. Yet not a single member of the Southern Lake Group had heard any screams. Even the one who discovered the body had only stumbled upon it while fetching water, immediately running off to report it.

There was another question—why had the victim's face been beaten beyond recognition? Was it done out of hatred?

The wounds were so brutal that no traces of the victim's martial arts remained, leading him to conclude that the killer must have been a skilled expert adept at concealing their actions.