Chapter vv15c5

“Senior Sister! Senior Sister! …Dokgo Ryeong?”

Na Yerin’s calls went unanswered. Dokgo Ryeong’s gaze was fixed on a single face, her eyes unseeing. It was as if they were standing in the same space, on the same ground, yet separated by an invisible barrier, an unbridgeable chasm.

A chilling sense of disconnect. No matter how loudly she called, her voice seemed unable to reach her.

After a long moment, Dokgo Ryeong’s body began to move. But she still seemed oblivious to Na Yerin’s voice. She walked towards the figure, her steps faltering, as if she were in a trance.

“Senior Sister!”

Na Yerin called out again, but there was still no response. She finally gave up, lowering her outstretched hand.

What was this feeling? A sudden surge of energy, a jolt to her senses! And then, a flood of emotions, a chaotic mix of confusion and dread, washed over her, threatening to drown her.

“Sister…”

A cold wind swept through her heart.

This had never happened before.

A slender arm, graceful as a dancer’s, reached out, halting sixteen pairs of feet.

“Stop.”

Someone had dared to block the path of the First Young Master, who was walking back to his lodgings with his seven escorts. It was a woman, her left eye covered by a triangular eyepatch. Bi’s gaze fell on the eyepatch, his expression unreadable.

“Insolent!”

Two of the Heavenly Demons Seven, Do Chu-un, the Scorpion Sword Whip, and Baek Sa-yeong, the Serpent Sword, lunged forward, their killing intent palpable. They were like chariots on an ancient battlefield, ready to crush anything in their path. But Dokgo Ryeong’s one eye remained fixed on the First Young Master, unwavering.

“Enough.”

Bi raised a hand, stopping them.

“B-But she blocked your path, Master!”

They protested, their loyalty to their master absolute. A faint smile touched Dokgo Ryeong’s lips.

“Such loyal beasts. Growling and baring their teeth for their master. Be careful, they might bite someone. Perhaps you should muzzle them.”

To compare them to beasts, to suggest that they needed to be muzzled… It was an insult, and they didn’t take it well.

“You…!”

“I’ll kill you!”

Their killing intent surged, their anger palpable.

Dokgo Ryeong placed her left hand on the hilt of her sword, her thumb resting on the tsuba. She had no intention of apologizing. She was ready to draw.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said enough!”

Bi’s voice was calm, but there was an underlying steeliness to it. His two subordinates trembled, their killing intent receding. They knew how their master expressed his displeasure. A cold, silent fury that chilled them to the bone. It was the most terrifying kind of anger.

“Look at the emblem on her left breast.”

Dokgo Ryeong’s long, black hair, which had been covering her chest, fluttered in the wind, revealing the emblem beneath. A white goose with four wings, and the character for “sword” emblazoned in the center.

“Th-That emblem…!”

Their eyes widened in recognition. It was the emblem they had heard rumors about.

“The Four-Winged Flying Goose! The symbol of the Sword Empress, the master of the Southern Sea Sword Clan, and the strongest swordswoman in the world. Even you two wouldn’t stand a chance against her… I don’t want any more trouble.”

The Flying White Goose emblem was the symbol of the Sword Clan, and the number of wings indicated the wearer’s rank. The Sword Empress, the highest-ranking member, had six wings, and the elders, who were responsible for the clan’s day-to-day operations, had five.

Only three young disciples were allowed to wear the Four-Winged Flying Goose emblem, making them worthy of the title of “disciple.”

“Even if she’s the Sword Empress’s disciple, I don’t think she can defeat us.”

They were still unconvinced.

Such confidence!

Dokgo Ryeong sensed that their confidence wasn’t entirely unfounded. Ordinary training wouldn’t produce such arrogance.

‘What kind of power are they hiding?’

They were not to be underestimated.

“I’ll hear you out. Why have you blocked my path?”

“…”

Dokgo Ryeong hesitated. She didn’t have an answer. Her body had acted before her mind could catch up. She had blocked his path without thinking, and now she was unsure what to do, what to ask.

She tried to speak, but her throat felt constricted, as if a needle were lodged in it. She forced the words out, her voice trembling with shame.

“Have we… met before?”

She asked, her gaze fixed on the First Young Master’s eyes. Her expression was a mixture of confusion and hope. His eyes widened slightly, as if surprised by her question.

“Are you flirting with me? To receive such attention from the Sword Empress’s disciple… I’m honored!”

“Wahahahahahaha!”

“Kehehehehehe!”

“Hohohohoho!”

His entourage burst into laughter.

“D-Don’t be ridiculous!”

Dokgo Ryeong shouted, her face flushed with embarrassment. But despite the insult, she didn’t attack. It was an uncharacteristic response. Her desperation for an answer had overridden her anger. Her fists clenched, trembling.

The laughter subsided, and the First Young Master looked at her, his expression serious. She met his gaze, her one eye unwavering.

‘Such cold eyes… Like a winter peak.’

The eyes she remembered weren’t this cold, this distant. He was a completely different person from the one who had laughed so carelessly a moment ago. It was as if his earlier laughter had been an act.

‘Did I misjudge him…?’

As she pondered this, he answered her question.

“We haven’t met before. And I don’t see any reason why we should meet in the future. Is that clear?”

He turned and walked away, his seven escorts following close behind.

Dokgo Ryeong stood there, frozen, as if rooted to the spot. A wave of sadness washed over her.

“Senior Sister, what’s wrong?”

She turned to see Na Yerin standing beside her, her face etched with concern. Dokgo Ryeong was startled.

“N-Nothing. It’s nothing. You don’t have to worry about it.”

She didn’t want to worry her. This was her problem, and hers alone. And it was a problem that no one else should know about.

“Ugh!”

A sharp pain shot through her left eye, beneath the eyepatch. She pressed her hand against her face, but the pain wouldn’t subside.

“Sister!”

Na Yerin cried out, grabbing her shoulder.

Dokgo Ryeong shrugged her off, her voice sharp with irritation.

“Ryeong…”

Na Yerin’s voice was filled with surprise. Dokgo Ryeong came to her senses. What was she doing?

“I-I’m sorry! I’m fine. It’s nothing. Just a… recurring pain. I need to… rest.”

Her voice was weak, barely audible.

She walked towards her lodgings, her shoulders slumped, her steps heavy. Na Yerin watched her go, her eyes filled with worry. But there was nothing she could do.

“Ugh!”

Dokgo Ryeong bit back a groan. The pain in her left eye intensified with every step, as if a swarm of fire ants were gnawing at her flesh.

Her body and mind were in turmoil. She stumbled, her steps faltering, like a drunkard.

All she wanted was to rest. She couldn’t think of anything else.

There’s a time to act, and a time to stay silent. Those who fail to recognize this, who act inappropriately, are often called “clueless.” They live in their own little world, oblivious to reality.

Unfortunately, such people are not rare. In fact, they’re all too common. They’re everywhere. And there was one right here.

“Hehehehehe! Master, even with one eye, she’s quite a looker, isn’t she?”

Oh Mun-chu, the Chain Wind Sickle, said, his voice dripping with vulgarity. He was walking beside the First Young Master, who remained silent.

“She’s so arrogant, thinking she can act so high and mighty just because she’s a disciple of the Sword Clan. How dare she block your path, Master!”

The First Young Master didn’t respond, and he didn’t slow down. Oh Mun-chu took his silence as agreement. Emboldened, he continued his lewd remarks. It was a mistake.

“How about it, Master? Should I have my way with her later? I’m sure she’ll enjoy it… Ugh!”

He couldn’t finish his sentence. A sickle, its blade gleaming, was lodged in his mouth. If he had continued speaking, his tongue would have been severed.

He was terrified. That sickle… It was his own weapon, the Chain Wind Sickle. He had never let it leave his side. How had it ended up in the First Young Master’s hand? He had no idea.

Bi’s voice was cold and emotionless.

“I didn’t give you permission. Who told you you could think such vulgar thoughts?”

Oh Mun-chu’s face turned pale, his forehead beaded with sweat. The other six members of the Heavenly Demons Seven watched in stunned silence. But no one dared to intervene.

“I hate vulgarity. Don’t ever speak like that in my presence again. If you do, I’ll cut out your tongue and feed it to the dogs.”

His voice was quiet, but it sent chills down their spines. It was the voice of a demon.

“I-I’m s-sorry!”

His tongue was paralyzed with fear, his words slurred. But before he could finish his apology, the sickle vanished from his mouth, returning to its sheath at his waist. It had all happened so fast, he hadn’t even seen it move.

He stood there, dazed, as if he had just woken up from a nightmare. But the goosebumps on his skin, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, told him that it had been all too real.

“Don’t forget your place. You are my servants, my tools. You are not allowed to act without my permission. Remember that! A tool that forgets its place will be discarded. There are plenty of replacements! …Don’t touch her until I give you permission.”

“Y-Yes, Master! I-I understand!”

The First Young Master’s voice was cold and hard, like ice. The Heavenly Demons Seven bowed their heads in unison, their hearts pounding with fear. There was no room for disobedience. To defy him was to defy heaven itself.