I Became the Owner of the Heavenly Flower Palace-Chapter 12: Entering the Palace

Jincheon was shocked and flustered.

He’d expected there to be a crowd, but he hadn’t imagined a scene like this.

Everywhere his eyes landed, people filled the streets—so densely packed it felt as if the entire city had spilled out into the open.

And in truth, that wasn’t far from reality.

The news that the Red Orb—the Red Dragon’s Wrath—had returned had spread across the city like wildfire.

“Why is it like this...?”

It was a sight that went beyond surprise and stirred something more unsettling, something close to dread.

And when Jincheon instinctively turned around in reaction, it brought about a result he hadn’t expected in the slightest.

Boom.

It might not even have been a sound.

But Jincheon heard it clearly.

Every person within sight—Gi Seoran, Po Eunryeong, and even the stern middle-aged woman who appeared to be in charge of guarding the gates—all dropped to their knees in unison.

Jincheon’s eyes widened.

A chill ran down his spine, and goosebumps rippled across his skin.

This massive, bustling city itself was bowing in reverence before the Red Orb.

The weight behind the middle-aged officer’s words—“So, what are you going to do? Are you accepting it, or not?”—hit him all at once.

Jincheon lost his words.

The sight of countless people kneeling toward him was overwhelming in every sense of the word.

There had never been—and likely would never again be—an experience like this.

No, even scouring the entire world, few could ever claim to have felt something like this.

Frozen in place for a moment, Jincheon slowly turned his body.

Because if he kept standing still, no one was going to rise.

Rustle.

Just as he thought.

Gi Seoran, Po Eunryeong, and the middle-aged officer finally stood up from where they had been kneeling.

Jincheon let out a quiet sigh inside.

Then lifted his head.

A massive structure, brilliantly lit, ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) stood before him.

The Palace.

From the distant inn where he’d first met that middle-aged officer, all the way to this place deep in the Mount Giryeon range—he had come here for this. For the Palace.

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“All right. Let’s go.”

Taking a deep breath, Jincheon moved forward slowly—careful not to trip or stumble, keeping his composure.

Step.

Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong flanked him from behind, just as they had all along, and the middle-aged woman followed after them.

Step, step.

The four of them soon disappeared into the Palace.

The soldiers guarding the gates returned to their posts.

But the crowd blocking the avenue didn’t leave.

Some began to lift their heads, slowly rising to their feet, but no one turned to go.

One person looked toward the Palace with eyes full of resolve, while another made no attempt to wipe away the tears running down their face.

No one said a word.

The once-bustling street now felt like a silent military camp preparing for a campaign.

They continued to stand there, gazing toward the entrance Jincheon had vanished into.

****

Jincheon stepped inside the Palace.

Seven court maids he had never seen before bowed deeply the moment he entered, as if they had been waiting for him.

Accepting their greeting as naturally as he could, Jincheon took a moment to look around the Palace.

To his surprise, the interior was calm and steeped in a sense of age and dignity.

It felt old, yes—but not worn down. More like elegantly aged.

“Feels a bit exotic, too...”

Perhaps because it sat on the western trade route, there were foreign decorations here and there.

Many of the patterns and paintings depicted flames.

But what struck Jincheon the most was the sheer majesty of it all.

Everything was excessively large, wide, and tall.

Even the massive building he had seen from outside turned out to be a single-story structure with an incredibly high ceiling—and that alone stunned him.

“Isn’t this... a bit much? Like, spatial overkill?”

In any other place, this height would have been enough for a three- or even four-story building.

But here, it was just left as empty space.

“Isn’t this how the imperial palace in Beijing is built?”

Deliberately vast and hollow, with warped sense of scale and simplified architecture—all designed to instill awe in anyone who entered.

If that was true of Beijing’s imperial palace, then this place was not far behind. Maybe even equal.

And on top of that, the exotic ornaments in every direction flaunted a sense of sophisticated splendor, as if tempting his gaze.

Still, Jincheon didn’t dare gawk too openly.

He could feel their eyes on him.

Step, step.

He moved as naturally and slowly as he could.

There was no need to wonder whether he was going the right way.

The moment he entered the Palace, a straight, unbroken path had stretched out before him—as if it had been waiting just for him.

The corridor lined with columns felt like the only path Jincheon had been allowed... or perhaps, the only one he had been forced to walk.

“Well, whatever. I’ve made it inside, at least.”

All that remained was to meet the one in charge and hand over the orb.

In return, he would receive thanks, a proper reward, and a few words of appreciation.

Step.

With the maids following behind him, Jincheon stepped into the largest building, already indulging in the thought of a satisfying future.

Thunk.

“...Huh?”

The moment he entered the main hall, Jincheon came to a halt.

As soon as he stopped walking, Gi Seoran, Po Eunryeong, and the middle-aged officer all looked puzzled.

Their eyes seemed to ask, Why did you stop?

But Jincheon couldn’t help it.

Inside what appeared to be the Palace’s grandest building, there was only a single large chair placed high on a platform.

A completely empty chair.

“No one’s... here?”

Not a single person.

Judging by the setup, that chair was likely the seat of the Palace’s master—so shouldn’t someone be here?

Someone to explain the situation, recognize his efforts, and reward him properly for the risk he’d taken?

“I mean, come on. It’s like I just delivered the imperial seal or something.”

Sure, comparing the orb to the emperor’s own authority might be a bit much... but given the reactions he’d seen up to now, it wasn’t that far off.

And yet, there was no one waiting in this grand hall.

Jincheon was taken aback. And disappointed.

The uncomfortable expression on his face showed plainly.

And that reaction passed directly to the ones behind him.

Thunk.

Gi Seoran, Po Eunryeong, and the middle-aged woman all knelt.

Once, Jincheon would have been startled by that—but now, he didn’t even have the energy to be surprised.

With the same uncomfortable expression on his face, he glared at the empty seat and spoke.

“Is no one here?”

The middle-aged woman’s face went pale.

Without hesitation, she bent forward and pressed her forehead to the floor.

Thud.

“It is my failure! I will correct it at once!”

She declared in a solemn, resolute tone.

What exactly her failure was, or how she intended to correct it, she didn’t say.

Gritting her teeth, she stood up—and then disappeared like a wisp of smoke.

Now, only Jincheon remained inside the empty grand hall, along with Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong, both still kneeling.

“I beg to speak,”

came Gi Seoran’s quiet voice.

Jincheon didn’t turn his head.

That was his way of expressing his displeasure.

“There is only one thing you must know right now. Trust no one. Rely on no one. No matter who it is, never entrust yourself to them.”

Resentment made everything sound twisted and insincere.

Her voice was solemn, as if offering a warning at the cost of her life—but to Jincheon, she was just another object of his discontent.

“Now she wants to talk about trust?”

“Rather, it is the Heavenly Flame that will place its trust in the Red Dragon, and the Heavenly Valley that will lean on the Red Dragon. For the Red Dragon is the devourer of all things, and no one—no matter who—may dare raise an objection to him.”

“...What?”

Her words were strange.

Not just the content, but why she was even saying them now—it made no sense to him.

Just as Jincheon opened his mouth to ask what she meant—

Whoosh.

Wind stirred in the empty space.

And suddenly, figures began to appear.

Jincheon’s eyes flew wide.

“What the hell—”

It wasn’t dark. There hadn’t been any fog or mist. Not even a hint of presence in the air.

And yet people were appearing—no, a group of people was appearing out of thin air.

Still, Jincheon didn’t drop the orb he was holding, even in surprise.

That, at least, was fortunate.

Because every one of the new arrivals had their gaze locked onto the Red Orb in his hand.

“...Mm.”

Someone let out a low sound.

Their reaction was clearly different from the others before them.

They didn’t bow immediately. They didn’t flinch in surprise.

But in the end, the result was the same.

Rustle.

They each dropped to one knee.

Then, bowing their heads, they murmured in low voices:

“We kneel before the Red Dragon’s Wrath.”

“...We kneel before the Red Dragon’s Wrath.”

Voices emerged from either side, each one different.

Beneath the ornate, antique-looking chair, a group of over a dozen people had arranged themselves in two lines to the left and right, bowing in formal reverence.

It looked so much like court officials attending morning assembly before the emperor that Jincheon found himself suddenly tense.

How long had passed?

No one rose.

Jincheon frowned slightly in confusion.

“What...? Am I supposed to be the one to tell them to get up? Everyone else has just gotten up on their own so far... haven’t they?”

So much had happened, it was getting hard to remember clearly.

After a moment’s hesitation, Jincheon made his decision.

“Please rise.”

Rustle.

His guess had been right. Only then did the people begin to rise.

And finally, Jincheon was able to get a proper look at them.

Sixteen in total, eight standing on each side at regular intervals.

It was hard to tell their ages.

At a glance, their faces seemed young—but the energy they gave off, the look in their eyes, carried the weight and depth of those far older.

It was like sensing the experience of an old master behind the face of someone in their twenties.

“It is an honor to witness the return of the Red Dragon.”

A deep voice spoke.

It came from the man standing at the far right—closest to the high platform and the chair upon it, and the furthest from Jincheon.

The man had a powerful build. His eyes were sharp and dangerous as they flicked once toward Jincheon, then shifted to the two women still kneeling behind him.

“And what are you doing here?”

It wasn’t a question—it was a rebuke.

With obvious displeasure and pressure, the man spoke again.

“This place is not one that welcomes the likes of the Heavenly Flame. Your offense will be dealt with accordingly at a later time. For now, leave.”

His voice carried authority and power that would be difficult for anyone to defy.

But not for Jincheon.

“‘The likes of’...?”

The ones he just called “the likes of” were Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong.

The women who had carried him through the mountains without hesitation, who had endured hardship for the sole purpose of getting him safely to the Palace.

Jincheon didn’t know much about this place—but he knew how sincerely they had acted for his sake.

And now they were being treated like this?

To be belittled with that kind of term—“the likes of”—and to have the things they did for him described as “offenses to be punished”?

A surge of anger rose sharply in Jincheon’s chest.