The Return of the Namgoong Clan's Granddaughter-Chapter 15

When Namgoong Mucheon arrived at the Celestial Guest Courtyard, the attendants were rushing about inside the residence in a flurry of activity.

A young servant, who happened to spot Namgoong Mucheon suddenly appear in the courtyard without a sound, jumped in fright.

“G-Greetings to the Clan Head!”

The servant hastily bowed.

The bloodstained cloth in his arms slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor with a soft thud.

At the very moment Namgoong Mucheon’s gaze landed on the cloth, Seop Mugwang arrived behind him.

“Whose blood is that?”

At Namgoong Mucheon’s question, the servant answered in a trembling voice.

“I-It belongs to the honored guest.”

In that instant, Seop Mugwang felt as if the air around them had frozen. Before things could escalate, he stepped forward and addressed the servant.

“Explain clearly what happened.”

The servant bowed even lower and continued.

“There... there was a loud noise coming from the guest’s quarters. When I went to check, the honored guest had suffered a deep wound to the arm and was bleeding. We called for a physician right away and focused on treating the injury, so I didn’t have a chance to ask what had happened.”

“Where is the guest now?”

“She is in the main residence of the Celestial Guest Courtyard.”

As soon as the servant answered, Namgoong Mucheon and Seop Mugwang headed straight for the main quarters.

The closer they drew to the residence, the darker their expressions grew.

— Clan Head. Something is wrong. That wasn’t the scent of a single person’s blood.

— I know. But now is not the time.

He had clearly sensed the presence of blood from dozens of individuals. Yet now, just as the servant said, only the faint trace of blood from a single injury remained.

“It’s like a ghost’s trickery.”

He had feared some kind of gruesome massacre had taken place in the Celestial Guest Courtyard.

What exactly had happened?

As the attendants hurried around to clean the blood and stop the bleeding, Ilhwa sat quietly, receiving treatment with a composed expression.

There was no sign of pain, no trace of fear at the sight of her own blood. Her calm demeanor made the servants more uneasy.

“Is she really a child? She’s not even crying.”

“But how did she get hurt? So suddenly? Why isn’t she saying anything? Someone should ask.”

“I don’t know either. You ask. She’s kind of scary...”

Not one of them dared to speak to her directly.

The eerie air emanating from the child seemed to press down on the entire room. Though she said not a word, the servants were visibly tense.

Once the bleeding had mostly stopped, Ilhwa lifted her gaze and stared beyond the door.

The servants, whose full attention had been on her, turned toward where her gaze led, puzzled.

Moments later, the door opened, and Namgoong Mucheon, followed by Wind Thunder God Seop Mugwang, entered the room.

All the servants stood and stepped back to greet them.

“Greetings to the Clan Head.”

“Greetings to the Clan Head.”

Namgoong Mucheon’s gaze was fixed solely on Ilhwa. He stepped into the room.

Ilhwa rose from her seat and bowed her head.

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“Greetings, Clan Head.”

“Leave us.”

At Seop Mugwang’s gesture toward the attendants, they quickly filed out of the room.

After silently observing Ilhwa’s wound for a moment longer, Seop Mugwang gave a brief nod to Namgoong Mucheon and exited as well.

Only Ilhwa and Namgoong Mucheon remained inside.

Thick curtains now lined the walls of the room.

“....”

“....”

Namgoong Mucheon stared intently at Ilhwa’s injury.

Sensing his gaze, Ilhwa spoke first.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I was training and got hurt by mistake. It’s not a serious wound. I’m sorry for causing concern.”

“I can help you. So don’t hide it—tell me. What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I just mishandled the sword.”

Namgoong Mucheon looked over at the sword standing next to the table.

A cheap iron sword, the kind easily found even in a common blacksmith’s forge.

The blade bore faint traces of the girl’s blood.

Namgoong Mucheon felt a suffocating tightness in his chest, as though he were falling endlessly into a dark abyss.

He couldn’t tell whether it was because a child was wielding such a low-quality blade, or because she had injured herself training with it... or perhaps because of the child’s complete indifference to it all.

Blood, not yet fully staunched, had begun to flow again from her arm, trailing down the back of her hand and gathering at the tip of her finger.

Namgoong Mucheon knelt down on one knee before her.

He pressed a pressure point to slow the bleeding, then gently wiped the blood away with a clean cloth.

Ilhwa quietly accepted his touch.

“I will believe what you’ve said.”

The soft, dragging sound of the cloth wiping blood filled the silence between them.

“So you must believe me, too.”

“....”

Once the blood was completely wiped away, Namgoong Mucheon pressed the cloth to her wound and placed it in her hand before rising to his feet.

He looked down at her.

“As long as you are in Namgoong, I will protect you. Even if you harbor other intentions, I will choose to trust you. Do you understand?”

Ilhwa lowered her gaze slightly.

She seemed to ponder something for a brief moment, then gave a small nod.

“Yes. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Namgoong Mucheon’s brow furrowed slightly, as if that wasn’t quite the response he’d hoped for.

But with a quiet sigh, he nodded and turned away.

“All right. The Medicine Hall Master has arrived—receive treatment. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

With those final words, Namgoong Mucheon left the room.

Soon after, the sound-blocking curtain dispersed, and the presence of several people could be felt from outside the door.

It was the voice of the Medicine Hall Master and Namgoong Yeom, Lord of the Outer Hall, speaking with Namgoong /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ Mucheon.

‘So they noticed, after all.’

Ilhwa sat back down.

Earlier, while she had been trying to sleep, she heard a voice.

It had started as a faint whisper from far away, then gradually grew clearer until it commanded her directly:

‘Kill them. Kill them all. Slaughter every last one of the Namgoong Clan and scatter their blood at your feet.’

When she came to her senses, she already had a sword in her hand.

A servant was knocking on the door, asking if something was wrong, and she had already been swinging the sword.

What Ilhwa chose at that moment was to use the very sword in her hand to cut her own arm.

The sharp feel of the blade brought her back to herself, and the sound of the sword falling to the ground had prompted the servant to enter—leading to everything that followed.

‘How did Namgoong Mucheon and Seop Mugwang know?’

She couldn’t understand how the two of them had arrived before even the physician.

But one thing was clear: they both already knew that this wasn’t simply an accident.

Namgoong Mucheon’s words, and Seop Mugwang’s actions, made that evident.

‘I need to be more careful.’

It’s not easy to deceive the senses of masters.

She’d managed to avoid suspicion this time, but there’s no guarantee they’ll let it go without pressing further next time.

Still...

‘What was that?’

Ilhwa looked down at her hand.

The voice that had crept into her mind had clearly belonged to the Blood Demon.

It wasn’t that someone was controlling her body. Rather, her body had moved on its own, simply obeying the Blood Demon’s command.

‘Could it be... I’m bound by Blood Subjugation?’

The Blood Demon didn’t trust people easily. That’s why, before transmitting the Secret Blood Cultivation Technique, he always bound them with Blood Subjugation to prevent betrayal.

Those bound by Blood Subjugation suffered unbearable pain if they disobeyed his commands, and they were absolutely incapable of killing him.

Likewise, the Blood Demon himself could not kill those bound to him with his own hand.

‘But in my past life, I was clearly killed by the Blood Demon.’

Which meant—she wasn’t bound to him.

So then, it couldn’t be Blood Subjugation.

Someone knocked on the door.

Immediately after, the Medicine Hall Master’s voice followed with a sing-song, “Coming i~n.”

Ilhwa stared at the shadow of the Medicine Hall Master cast upon the doorway.

‘If there’s something wrong with my body, I have to be the first to know.’

If there was some abnormality within her...

If it posed a threat to Namgoong...

If returning here had been the wrong choice...

Then she needed to know.

Only then could she prepare—or choose to leave.

To do that—

‘Medicine Hall Master.’

She was necessary.

****

“This must’ve hurt...”

With her brows furrowed deeply, the Medicine Hall Master treated Ilhwa’s wound.

Worried that something dangerous might happen, Seop Mugwang stood leaning against a pillar, arms crossed, watching over them.

From the fact that he didn’t bother adding any words, it was clear he, too, believed this wound wasn’t an accident.

His face was clouded with thought.

“It might sting a little. I lit incense to dull the pain, but it won’t take it away completely. Let me know if it hurts too much, okay?”

“Yes.”

“Not even crying with a wound like this... such a brave little kitten, aren’t you?”

The Medicine Hall Master continued the treatment, lightening the mood with gentle humor.

“There’s another injury. Could you take a look?”

Her hands moving with delicate care, the Medicine Hall Master blinked in surprise and looked at Ilhwa.

Seop Mugwang, who had been standing behind them, also frowned.

“Oh my, there’s another wound? Where?”

Ilhwa glanced at Seop Mugwang.

Sensing her glance, his frown deepened.

“What? Where else did you get hurt? Hm?”

“My abdomen.”

“What? Abdomen? Let’s have a look!”

“From the chest down to the abdomen.”

As he moved closer, Seop Mugwang suddenly froze and grimaced.

“You planning to look for yourself?”