Chapter 2 - The weight of decisions made in the shadows.

The storm had long passed, but its echoes remained in the valley where Hanwool's first cries had once merged with the thunder. His uncle, Yoon Hwan, carried him through the darkened forest, his heart weighed down by grief. His sister, Yoon Haneul, was gone, her body left behind beneath the sky she had defied to save her child. The weight of her final words clung to him like a shackle—"Take him far away. Keep him safe."

Each step was heavy, his wounds slowing him down, but he refused to stop. The Red Blood Squad would not give up easily. They would search, they would hunt, and they would not forgive. He had to disappear, taking Hanwool beyond their reach. Yet, as he moved deeper into the misty wilderness, an unsettling thought whispered in his mind—would the heavens ever let Hanwool be free of his cursed birth?

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Yoon Hwan's own strength wavered. His wounds, hastily bandaged, ached with every step. He had not eaten in two days, and Hanwool's feeble cries grew weaker. The infant needed milk, warmth—something more than just a fugitive's desperate embrace.

As the sun dipped below the towering cliffs, he spotted something unusual—a trail of carriage tracks imprinted in the muddy path ahead. His instincts screamed caution, but his exhaustion left no room for hesitation. If there was even the slightest chance of finding food, he had to take the risk.

Following the tracks, he soon heard the rhythmic creaking of wooden wheels and the steady clatter of hooves. Emerging from behind a thicket, he saw them—a caravan of escorts, six men in dark armor riding alongside a well-crafted carriage. The insignia embroidered on the banners caught his eye—a coiling dragon wrapped around a war fan.

His breath hitched.

The Jaegal Clan.

A family as brilliant as they were powerful, the Jaegal Clan—also known as the Zhuge Clan—stood at the pinnacle of martial and strategic might in the Murim world. Their ancestors were legendary tacticians and warriors, known for their unmatched intellect and mastery over formations. Even the Heavenly Demonic Cult treaded carefully around them.

Inside the main carriage, two boys and two girls sat close together, their expressions filled with youthful curiosity. Their mother, a woman of striking yet refined beauty, sat with an air of quiet authority. Her long, flowing robes of muted silver and blue signified a noble lineage, but her eyes—sharp and calculating—held the gaze of someone who had seen much of the world.

Yoon Hwan did not move. He remained partially hidden in the foliage, watching carefully. But his body betrayed him. A sudden wave of dizziness overtook him, and before he could steady himself, his foot snapped a branch beneath him.

Instantly, the escorts turned their horses toward the sound.

"Who's there?" one of the warriors barked, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword.

Yoon Hwan took a slow, controlled breath before stepping out onto the path. His appearance was enough to draw immediate suspicion—his clothes were torn, his body covered in dirt and dried blood, and in his arms, he cradled a silent child wrapped in a tattered cloth.

The woman inside the carriage studied him carefully. A single glance was enough to tell her that he was no ordinary beggar. The way he carried himself, the quiet intensity in his eyes—this was a man accustomed to battle.

"You are injured," she observed, her voice calm yet authoritative.

Yoon Hwan remained silent. He had no energy for explanations or lies.

The woman looked at the child. Her gaze softened, but only slightly. "The child... he is yours?"

Yoon Hwan hesitated before shaking his head. "He is my sister's son."

The woman's eyes flickered with something unreadable before she turned to one of the escorts. "Bring them food and water."

The escort hesitated. "Matriarch, we do not know who they are—"

"Then we will learn," she cut him off, her voice unwavering. "But starving men are dangerous men. It is better to feed them than to force their desperation."

Reluctantly, the escort retrieved a bundle from the supply carriage and approached Yoon Hwan. He handed him a wrapped portion of dried meat and rice, along with a small clay jar of goat's milk.

Yoon Hwan did not bow or offer words of gratitude. He simply nodded, his exhaustion overriding all else.

One of the children—a girl with dark braided hair and bright, curious eyes—peeked out from the carriage and spoke up. "Mother, will they be traveling with us?"

The woman smiled faintly but shook her head. "No, child. They have their own path to walk."

The girl frowned but did not argue.

As Yoon Hwan turned to leave, the woman spoke again, her voice quieter this time. "If you are heading toward the mountains, beware. Shadows move in places unseen. The world is not kind to those who run."

Yoon Hwan paused for only a moment before continuing on his way.

Behind him, the carriage began to move again, disappearing down the path.

He looked down at Hanwool, who now drank the milk eagerly, unaware of the dangers that loomed over him.

For now, they had been given a brief moment of mercy. But Yoon Hwan knew better than to believe in kindness without consequence.

The cold mountain wind howled through the narrow pass as Yoon Hwan trudged forward, his body aching from exhaustion. Hanwool had stopped crying, lulled into sleep by the warmth of his uncle's embrace, but the child's frail form worried him. He needed shelter—true shelter, not just the ruined walls of an abandoned temple.

The night before, he had barely exchanged words with the Jaegal Matriarch, but something in her gaze had unsettled him. She was no ordinary noblewoman; she had the presence of a warrior, a strategist—someone who understood the weight of decisions made in the shadows.

If anyone could give him counsel, it was her.

And so, despite the risk, he made his way back toward the road where he had last encountered the Jaegal Clan's caravan with Qi step.

Qi Step – The Phantom's Ascent.

Yoon Hwan exhaled slowly, steadying his breath as he activated Qi Step, a profound footwork technique that allowed him to move like a flickering shadow. His body became weightless, his steps light as falling leaves, each movement perfectly synchronized with the natural flow of the wind.

Gliding through the dense forest, he maneuvered effortlessly between towering trees and jagged rocks, his presence vanishing like mist under the moonlight. With each step, he absorbed the force of his landing, dispersing it through his limbs to avoid making a sound. The art of Qi Step was not just about speed—it was about control, precision, and complete harmony with his surroundings.

As he neared the Jaegal Clan's caravan, Yoon Hwan shifted his pace, seamlessly blending into the darkness. His body flickered between the shadows of trees, slipping past the guards' watchful eyes. Within moments, he was close enough to observe the caravan's movements without alerting a single soul.

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The morning mist clung to the trees as Yoon Hwan emerged onto the well-worn road. In the distance, the caravan had stopped near a small clearing where the escorts tended to their horses and prepared for the journey ahead.

The Jaegal Matriarch sat outside her carriage, sipping tea from a small porcelain cup while watching the world wake around her. Her long, elegant sleeves draped over her lap, and the embroidered patterns on her robe shimmered faintly under the soft morning light.

As Yoon Hwan approached, the guards immediately turned, hands resting on their weapons.

"It's him again," one of them muttered.

The Matriarch lifted her gaze, her sharp eyes meeting Yoon Hwan's with quiet expectation.

"You have returned," she said. It was not a question, merely an observation.

Yoon Hwan bowed slightly—not out of servitude, but out of respect. "I seek your guidance."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "A warrior seeking advice? That is rare."

She gestured for him to sit on a nearby rock, and one of her attendants wordlessly handed him a bowl of warm broth. Yoon Hwan hesitated but accepted it. He did not have the luxury of pride.

As he sipped the soup, she studied him. "You do not strike me as a lost man. Only a man who does not know which battle is worth fighting."

Yoon Hwan let out a quiet breath. "I was once a soldier. A warrior. But now, I am just a man protecting his sister's son." He looked down at Hanwool, who stirred slightly in his arms. "He is innocent, yet the world will not let him be."

The Matriarch remained silent for a moment before setting down her tea. "No child is truly innocent. They inherit the weight of the blood that came before them, whether they desire it or not."

Her words sent a chill through him, but before he could respond, a small voice interrupted them.

"Mother, look!"

Jaegal Soyon, the second daughter, bounded forward, her bright eyes brimming with curiosity. Though only six, she had an adventurous spirit, always the first to act among her siblings. She reached out hesitantly, her small fingers brushing against Hanwool's tiny hand.

Hanwool, still half-asleep, grasped her finger with surprising strength. Soyon giggled in delight. "He likes me!"

Behind her, Jaegal Sihun, the youngest at three, peeked from behind his mother's robes. He mimicked his sister and stretched out his chubby fingers, letting Hanwool grasp them. The little boy let out a delighted laugh, his babyish voice filled with excitement.

Jaegal Lin, the eldest son, stood a little apart, watching quietly. Though only five, he had a serious nature, always cautious before acting. He observed Hanwool intently, as if trying to understand something unspoken.

Jaegal Sohi, the eldest daughter at eight, finally stepped forward. Unlike her younger siblings, she did not immediately reach for Hanwool. Instead, she studied him, her sharp, intelligent gaze lingering on the strange calmness in his dark eyes. "He does not cry like other babies," she murmured thoughtfully. "He watches."

The Matriarch watched her daughter with an approving look before turning back to Yoon Hwan. "My children see things as they are. Perhaps more clearly than most."

Yoon Hwan caught the change in her expression. "You have children of your own."

She nodded. "I do. And like you, I have walked the path of uncertainty, wondering if they will be safe in the world we leave behind for them."

He hesitated before speaking again. "It's just a question, but it's really important to me."

The Jaegal Matriarch lifted her head and shifted her gaze toward him, sensing the weight of his words.

"What is it?"

"What would you do if the world sought to destroy your child before they could grow up?"

The Matriarch's fingers tightened slightly around her teacup. When she spoke, her voice was quieter than before.

"I would make the world regret its mistake."

Her words, though spoken softly, carried an undeniable weight.

Yoon Hwan understood.

"Then tell me," he said, his voice low. "Where can I go where they won't find him?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, considering. When she opened them again, her gaze was firm.

"There is no such place," she admitted. "But there are places where even demons hesitate to tread."

She reached into her sleeve and pulled out a small jade token engraved with an ancient symbol. She held it out to him.

"Follow the northern pass," she instructed. "Beyond the valley lies the Azure Cloud Monastery. It is a place where the remnants of the old world still exist, where those who wish to be forgotten can disappear."

Yoon Hwan accepted the token with a deep bow.

"You are a warrior," she said. "But warriors who only run become nothing more than prey. Be ready to fight when the time comes."

As Yoon Hwan stood, preparing to leave, Jaegal Soyon tugged at his sleeve. "Will you come back?" she asked, her big eyes full of curiosity.

Yoon Hwan did not know how to answer.

Instead, Hanwool, as if sensing the mood, let out a small, happy gurgle. Jaegal Sihun giggled and clapped his hands, and even Jaegal Lin's serious expression softened.

Jaegal Sohi, however, did not smile. She merely watched Hanwool with thoughtful eyes, as if she already understood that their meeting was not a coincidence.

The Matriarch watched until Yoon Hwan and Hanwool disappeared into the misty mountains, then lifted her tea once more, whispering to herself.

"Let us see what fate has in store for you, child of the forsaken."