"Hyah! Run! Quickly!"
Jo Jeonhu lashed his whip repeatedly against the galloping horse.
There had been a brief commotion upon meeting Dang Cheonwi's party. Rather than welcoming them for their aid, they had bristled with anger. Even more, Dang Cheonwi's own children, Dang Nam-u and Dang Hye-mi, had suddenly rushed at Cheon Ruy yeong and seized him by the collar.
In response, Pyeon-u tore Dang Nam-u away and flung him aside, while Dokgo Seol went so far as to kick Dang Hye-mi in the ribs.
It was enough to make one exclaim about sheer audacity—but from the Dang clan's perspective, the misunderstanding was perhaps inevitable.
The supposed reinforcements numbered barely twenty, and among them were not martial artists but Peking Opera actors. To the Dang clan, it looked as though they had come to spectate and hide rather than truly fight.
Only after more than a quarter of an hour of curses and explanations did the misunderstanding unravel. The Dang clan warriors, eyes brimming with tears, expressed their gratitude.
Another half hour was then lost as Cheon Ruy yeong explained to Dang Cheonwi what needed to be done going forward.
Now, to make up for lost time, Cheon Ruy yeong's group was traveling at full speed.
Inside the carriage, there were two new passengers, but it was spacious enough not to feel cramped.
Twenty-year-old Dang Nam-u and his younger sister Dang Hye-mi had joined Cheon Ruy yeong's party. The rest of the Dang clan members had parted ways moments earlier, following on foot with light body techniques.
"Um…"
Dang Nam-u broke the awkward silence, addressing Cheon Ruy yeong seated across from him.
"I apologize for earlier."
Dang Hye-mi bowed her head as well.
"I don't even know how to begin apologizing. I'm truly sorry."
Cheon Ruy yeong waved his hand with a warm smile.
"Say it a few more times, and you'll hit a hundred apologies."
Dang Nam-u scratched the back of his head, then looked up with sudden wonder.
"I've heard rumors about the Scholar of the Martial World several times. Each time, I thought they were grossly exaggerated, but…"
Cheon Ruy yeong cut him off lightly.
"It was only luck. Had your esteemed clan not turned toward the righteous sects, we would all have fallen beneath the blades of the Demon Cult."
At Cheon Ruy yeong's words, considerate of the Dang clan's honor, Dang Nam-u laughed heartily.
"Hahaha! Thank you for saying so. But… I doubt that. Even without my clan, I believe you, Young Master Cheon, would have devised another brilliant plan."
Dang Hye-mi nodded in agreement.
"I think so too. And I believe you'll play a great role in this coming battle as well."
Cheon Ruy yeong smiled at the siblings.
"All of us will do our utmost. The fight hasn't even begun—don't loosen your vigilance yet. Within the hour, we will arrive at your clan, so steel yourselves."
Both siblings nodded firmly at his words. Then Dang Nam-u spoke, face flushed.
"Young Master Cheon, I have a request. You must grant it. Promise me you won't refuse."
Cheon Ruy yeong looked troubled, but before he could reply, Dokgo Seol cut in, irritation plain.
"After ignoring reason and causing trouble earlier, you're starting again? This isn't a case of saving a drowning man only to have him demand your bundle."
At her cold voice, Dang Nam-u flinched. The beauty who had startled his heart at first sight—yet the same woman who had kicked his sister and threatened to kill him without hesitation.
Perhaps that was why.
Beautiful, yet impossible to approach. He thought to himself, no wonder she bore the nickname Byulwol (Moon Beyond Reach).
Carefully watching her expression, he turned back to Cheon Ruy yeong.
"It's not much, but I beg you."
Cheon Ruy yeong scratched at his temple.
"Let's hear it first."
"I wish to serve you as my elder brother. As sworn siblings, I'll devote myself to you for life."
With that, Dang Nam-u bowed deeply.
"This is rather sudden…"
"Elder Brother! Speak to me informally. An elder brother never uses honorifics with his younger brother."
Without waiting for permission, Dang Nam-u had already begun calling him elder brother. Dang Hye-mi chimed in.
"I'll serve you as elder brother too."
Cheon Ruy yeong sighed heavily, pressing his temple with a thumb. He had heard that the Dang family's "Poison Scales" siblings, Dang Nam-u and Dang Hye-mi, were bold and straightforward—but not to this degree.
Meanwhile, the scowl on Dokgo Seol's face oddly softened.
She had been uneasy about how persistently Dang Hye-mi's eyes followed Cheon Ruy yeong. But if they became sworn siblings? That might not be so bad. Remaining as brother and sister forever—yes, that was acceptable.
Overwhelmed, Cheon Ruy yeong turned to Dokgo Seol and Pyeon-u with pleading eyes. But they coldly ignored his desperate look.
Then, suddenly, Dang Hye-mi leaned forward, hand outstretched, a handkerchief appearing as if from nowhere.
"Elder Brother Cheon, you seem to be sweating a lot. Are you perhaps ill besides your injuries?"
Before anyone could stop her, the handkerchief neared his brow.
"No, it's fine."
"Just stay still. I'm your younger sister, after all."
Dokgo Seol's face froze. Something exploded inside her chest. Almost unconsciously, her hand shot out and seized Dang Hye-mi's wrist.
Dang Hye-mi turned her head, puzzled.
"What is it?"
Dokgo Seol's mind was in turmoil.
What is it, you ask? I hate that you're laying hands on him! Siblings? Younger sister? That's what this is about? Damn, I've been tricked!
But how could she possibly say it aloud?
Clenching her lips, she said nothing, and Dang Hye-mi gave a sly smile.
"Sister Dokgo, you misunderstand… I wasn't about to grab Young Master Cheon by the collar again like earlier. He's really sweating, and I was only worried."
Forcing a smile, Dokgo Seol replied.
"Is that so? Forgive me. He's an important man, and I've been focused on guarding him—I lashed out without thinking."
Even so, she didn't release Dang Hye-mi's wrist. Everyone else looked at her with confusion.
And then—
The horses screamed, and Jo Jeonhu's dying cry tore through the air.
"Neighhhh!"
"Arghhh! No!"
The carriage lurched violently. One of the horses pulling it had stumbled and collapsed. The others toppled in a chain reaction. The wheels, spinning fast, did not stop.
The carriage tilted, lifted off the ground, then crashed down, flipping and rolling repeatedly before coming to rest.
It all happened in an instant. Those following behind on carts and horseback could only watch in stunned silence.
It was too sudden, too swift, to react.
Disaster always strikes like a lightning bolt.
When the wreck finally stopped rolling, cries rang out.
Jo Jeonhu, Namgung Su, Jang Deukmu, Hwa Ga-yeon, and several others shouted together.
"Noooo!"
Their minds went blank with shock, forgetting even to run to the carriage.
Boom!
The shattered door tore off like paper and flew aside.
Pyeon-u had kicked it open, and only then did people rush forward.
"Is everyone all right?"
"Who's hurt?"
The same questions erupted from several voices. But the weeping from inside froze them all in place.
It was Dokgo Seol's cry.
"Sob… No! Young Master Cheon, no! Open your eyes, please!"
Jo Jeonhu collapsed to his knees, muttering blankly.
"Damn it, no… This can't be happening!"
Pyeon-u ripped apart the carriage roof with brute force.
Crack—snap—splinter!
Wood split and burst open, revealing those inside.
No one paid mind to the staggering display of Pyeon-u's strength—their focus was wholly on the scene within.
Aside from Cheon Ruy yeong, the others bore only scrapes and bruises. But Cheon Ruy yeong, cradled in Dokgo Seol's lap, was different.
Blood trickled down his cheek from his temple. His chest was stained red.
Dokgo Seol wept bitterly, shaking him. In her left hand, a sharp wooden shard was clenched, cutting her palm bloody—her own injury ignored.
"Young Master Cheon, please! Please wake up!"
Her world had crumbled into ruin.
At the very moment of the accident, one of her hands had been clutching Dang Hye-mi's wrist.
So when the carriage spun in midair, her other hand instinctively groped for something to anchor her balance, and she seized upon a wooden ornament before her eyes.
There had been no time to think. She simply struggled to keep her center in a world that spun endlessly. Even as bodies crashed and tangled, she fought desperately not to lose her hold on that fixed point.
Nor was she the only one.
Pyeon-u, in that fleeting instant, had done one thing more—when the iron bars connecting the driver's seat to the carriage buckled inward, threatening to spear through, he thrust them back with his bare hands.
Had he failed, the metal would have pierced straight into Dokgo Seol's stomach.
But Cheon Ruy yeong could do nothing. In a body already weakened, barely concealing his illness, he was helpless as he was flung aloft.
His head slammed into the corner of the carriage roof, then was tossed violently about. If there was any blessing, it was that the other four bodies inside cushioned him somewhat as they collided together.
Yet in the final rotation, as he was hurled down, a jagged wooden shard tore across his chest.
That shard—now clutched in Dokgo Seol's hand—had been halted only because she had seized it in time.
Dang Nam-u and Dang Hye-mi broke into wailing sobs.
"Brother Cheon! Please, wake up!"
"Elder Brother Cheon! Sob…"
The Scholar of the Martial World, Cheon Ruy yeong.
He had to live. No—he must live.
All the strategies to block the Demon Cult were known, but Cheon Ruy yeong had to be at their center.
Of course, a stand-in could be proposed. But in the chaos of battle, with the enemy ever shifting, there was no substitute. Worse, if any of the Demon Cult had seen Cheon Ruy yeong before, a false replacement could bring ruin upon them all.
Dokgo Seol carried him from the shattered carriage and laid him upon the ground. Looking up desperately at the crowd surrounding her, she cried out:
"Is there anyone trained in medicine?"
Amidst the gathering opera actors holding lanterns aloft, Namgung Su stepped forward.
"If no one else, then I must try. I've never trained formally, but I know a little."
He checked Cheon Ruy yeong's breathing with his hand to his nose, then carefully examined the wound on his head. After a tense moment, he let out a sigh of relief.
"His breathing is steady, and the head wound doesn't seem severe. Of course, the head is unpredictable—I can't guarantee anything."
Even as he spoke, Namgung Su tore open Ruy yeong's tunic.
A gash ran from above his right chest across toward the center.
Namgung Su glanced at the thick, jagged shard still clutched in Dokgo Seol's trembling hand and gave a bitter smile.
"Miss Dokgo saved him. Any later, and it would have pierced the heart."
Dokgo Seol, too overcome to wipe her tears, asked in a broken voice:
"Will he be all right?"
"The wound isn't too deep. First, we should bind it to staunch the bleeding…"
Namgung Su trailed off. At last, he saw beyond the wound.
"What… what is this…?"
His mouth fell open in shock.
Cheon Ruy yeong's bared torso was a ruin. There was no trace of normal skin color—only blackened bruises, swelling in several places like his face.
At first glance, he had thought the injuries on his face came from a mere brawl. But this? This was the body of one who had already walked the threshold of death.
Cold sweat drenched him, while his flesh burned with fever.
Behind Namgung Su, Jang Deukmu whispered in a trembling voice:
"Was it… this bad? He set out in this condition?"
He remembered overhearing Cheon Ruy yeong's exchange with Dokgo Seol outside the Sword Fragrance Hall—but never had he imagined his body was in such ruin.
Hwa Ga-yeon covered her mouth, tears brimming. Dang Nam-u and Dang Hye-mi were struck dumb with shock.
Jo Jeonhu, his face twisted with anguish, broke in:
"How is Young Master Cheon?"
Namgung Su sighed heavily before answering.
"I cannot give a precise diagnosis, but the worst has been avoided. However…"
"However?"
"I cannot say when he will awaken. It could be moments… or days… or far longer."
"…"
"And even if he awakens soon, that too is dangerous. For the Scholar of the Martial World to enter the Dang clan and command in this state—it would be suicide. Such work demands extreme focus and stamina. In his condition, even if he forces himself, he will collapse again. And if that happens, he may never rise. He must rest, without fail."
Jo Jeonhu looked up at the moon with a heavy sigh.
"Yes… you're right."
"Yes, Chief Jo. Which means we must decide here. Do we put forth a substitute for the Scholar and proceed? Or do we abandon the plan and retreat?"
Dang Nam-u and Dang Hye-mi bowed their heads, faces stricken. The spark of hope they had clung to guttered out. They longed to beg, to cling to someone's robes, but the one they needed lay unconscious.
Dang Nam-u turned to Jo Jeonhu and fell to his knees.
"Chief Jo, even a substitute—please, help us!"
Dang Hye-mi knelt beside him.
"I beg you. Please do not abandon our clan."
Jo Jeonhu clenched his teeth and bowed his head. Then he asked the circle around him:
"Who would take his place?"
No one dared answer. Jo Jeonhu asked again.
"Is there anyone here who can replace Young Master Cheon? Anywhere in the world?"
No reply came. Growing desperate, Dang Nam-u turned to Namgung Su, lowering his head.
"Couldn't you, Young Master Namgung? You are the Rising Dragon of the Skies…"
Namgung Su gave a bitter smile.
"Chief Jo speaks true. In fact, I have pondered this since we left the Sword Fragrance Hall. Could I do it? Could I take his place?"
He shook his head.
"No matter how many times I consider it, the answer is the same: impossible. I've seen his ability, even if only a glimpse. That glimpse was enough. I knew, at once—I could never serve as his stand-in. I might approach… but only approach. The gap between us… is deeper and wider than I imagined."
"Young Master Namgung… humility is no virtue here. Please, do not abandon the people of my clan."
Namgung Su turned his face aside, unable to meet their eyes. At that, Dang Nam-u shuffled on his knees to the others.
"Please, help us. When I met you all, I found hope again."
Behind him, Dang Hye-mi, still kneeling, collapsed forward and sobbed. She wished she had never hoped at all. To glimpse the light, only for it to die out again, was the blackest despair.
Dang Nam-u cried out to Jo Jeonhu, to Jang Deukmu, to the warriors around him:
"Are we not all brothers of the righteous sects? Please, I beg you—my grandfather the Poison Hand, my teacher, my senior and junior brothers, my friends—they remain within our clan! Don't force me back into that living hell, don't make me abandon them again! Sob, sob!"
All bit their lips and turned away in pain. They wished to help, but wishing did not make it possible.
Dang Hye-mi's wailing rose louder.
"Please! My mother is still there! She said we could not all escape, not just our family…"
Then—
Tok.
Her tear-filled eyes widened. A rough hand covered her trembling one.
She followed it up the arm, and at the end of her gaze was Cheon Ruy yeong's face—faintly smiling.
"Just… wait a little longer."
"...!"
"I have not given up."
His voice was low, but steady and warm. Every astonished eye turned to him.
Even Dokgo Seol, who had been silently weeping toward the heavens, trembled as she looked down at him. One by one, they held their breath and fixed on Cheon Ruy yeong.
With a faint smile, he said:
"I am… all right."
Dang Hye-mi wiped her tears and stared at him.
"Young Master Cheon, truly? You're all right?"
"Yes. We still have to rescue your mother, do we not? So don't cry."
But though he told her not to cry, Dang Hye-mi's tears poured forth again, harder than ever.