If only he hadn’t taken the Blood Demon’s hand from the start.

If only, when he realized the Blood Demon meant to wield him, he had staked his life and resisted then.

‘Had I done that... would I have shone like this too?’

Would it have been this beautiful?

“Ak Jaryu.”

Ak Jaryu let out a powerless laugh and lowered his head.

Because of her, he understood.

The thing that had locked him in the dark wasn’t the Blood Demon, nor the eyes of others—it was himself.

It was his own weakness that had never once resisted the Blood Demon.

“If I live, you’ll be put in danger.”

If he returned alive after crossing blades in a life-and-death duel with the Shadowless Demon God, the Blood Demon would realize a collusion between him and her.

The Blood Demon would surely use him to ferret out the Shadowless Demon God’s existence.

“If I can’t so much as scratch that man even if I live, then I choose to blind his eyes with my death.”

“...”

“I told you, didn’t I. That the two of us cannot both walk out of this gorge alive.”

Ak Jaryu bared his teeth and beamed wide.

The bright smile, dragged forth with effort under the sunlight, was something Seolhwa had never once seen from him in her previous life.

A Blood Lord who had always been rigid and taciturn.

A man whose thoughts were unknowable, whom she had never once seen smile.

He was meeting death as Ak Jaryu.

“Since I’m dying, I’ll give you a good piece of information.”

Ak Jaryu’s gaze sank, cold.

“The First Blood Lord is a princess of the North Sea Ice Palace. I do not know about the Second, but the Third is me, and the Fourth is the king of the Southern Wilds.”

“!”

North Sea Ice Palace...!

So even the First Blood Lord was a force from the Outlands?

“The First and Fourth share a single purpose.”

“To... conquer the Central Plains.”

Ak Jaryu nodded.

“The two know of each other’s existence. Whether to keep each other in check or not, they told me themselves.”

“...”

“Use that. Then you can incite a fight between the two Blood Lords.”

Two Outlands powers with their sights set on the Central Plains.

If only those two could be made to look not at the Central Plains but at each other—

‘If used well, we can drag the situation to our favor.’

It was good information.

“Thank you.”

At Seolhwa’s expression of thanks, Ak Jaryu’s eyes rounded.

Blinking as if a little surprised, he burst into laughter. “Hahaha!”

“You have truly changed! Truly... it is nothing short of astonishing.”

“Can I ask just one thing?”

“Since I’m dying, anything.”

“If you could go back, would you make the same choice?”

“!”

“Would you take the Blood Demon’s hand?”

Ak Jaryu’s eyes quivered, fine and small.

Go back...?

It would never happen, but if he were given one more chance—

“I would rather live as a butcher.”

Even if despised and scorned, he would stain these hands with the blood of beasts, not people.

Perhaps it was because death had drawn near.

Ak Jaryu suddenly thought of his father, who had been a butcher.

The father who had taught him how to handle a blade.

The father who wanted his son to walk with pride even if he himself was looked down upon.

The father who, when he said he would leave home, silently pressed a travel pouch into his hands.

‘Yes. I would have been happier living on as my father’s son in his trade.’

With a bitter smile, Ak Jaryu gently closed his eyes.

His breathing wavered irregularly.

“...I beg you.... Cut... my breath....”

Seolhwa quietly raised her sword.

Ak Jaryu’s face was filled with the most peaceful smile he had ever worn.

It was the brightest noon imaginable.

****

Someone approached.

From the footsteps alone, Seolhwa knew who it was.

“The Sado Union won.”

Between the Sado Union and the Flesh Curtain, the victor would be the Sado Union.

That force had always been nothing without the prowess of its lord, one of the Ten Great Masters of the Central Plains, and now that all of the Flesh Curtain’s elites had been captured, it would unravel quickly.

“And yet why do you wear such a face?”

A wind sharp enough to keen through the gorge blew, tossing Seolhwa’s long hair.

When the strands that hid her face fell away, the expression revealed was tangled with complex feeling.

Seolhwa turned to Namgoong Mucheon.

“Grandfather.”

Red blood dripped—drip, drip—down her sword.

“Am I doing the right thing?”

At the instant Ak Jaryu’s breath was cut, Seolhwa recalled the words the Long-Scarred Bamboo-Hatted Man had left long ago.

‘Namgoong Seolhwa. Do not think that everything you do marches along the right path.’

Was killing Ak Jaryu... the right thing?

Was this the correct choice?

“I... don’t know. I don’t know if this is all right as it is.”

Seolhwa looked down at her hands.

Ak Jaryu’s blood had already clotted there, remaining as stains.

A large, hard hand came and enclosed those hands of hers.

“Seolhwa. All people, at times, make the wrong choice.”

Seolhwa looked up at Namgoong Mucheon.

“No one lives a whole life making only right choices. What matters is the direction you move.”

At times one might fail, and one might err.

What one believes right can yield a wrong result, and a wrong choice can bring about a right result.

“You struggle like this because you know what will happen. Is that for you?”

“If I don’t stop it, I can’t protect the people I ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) love. So that is for me....”

“No. That is not for you. That is for the ones you love.”

“But...”

“You could have looked away. You could have run. You simply did not.”

If she had cared only for herself, Seolhwa would have fled the moment she returned to the past, seeking only to avoid the Blood Demon.

But she did not.

To stop the Blood Demon and save her clan, she returned to the Namgoong Clan.

When she made that choice, Seolhwa did not even know what love was, what family was.

“The direction you’re moving is right. At least to my eyes, it is.”

“...!”

Seolhwa’s gaze trembled, finely.

These were the words of none other than Namgoong Mucheon, former Clan Lord of the Namgoong and Lord of the Martial Alliance.

The recognition of the very man Seolhwa had sought to protect—and did protect—upon returning to the past.

What clearer proof could there be that Seolhwa’s path was right?

“Come here.”

When Seolhwa stepped close, Namgoong Mucheon embraced her.

The hand that tapped her back—thock, thock—was rough, and warm.

“Only... you carry too much. I fear you will be crushed under its weight.”

His embrace was broad and warm, and Seolhwa’s eyes flushed red.

“Do not break. Seolhwa.”

In her grandfather’s arms—a place that felt safe from any danger—

Seolhwa’s turmoil slowly settled.

****

Once the situation was in order, the two returned to the Sado Union branch.

As soon as she arrived, she headed straight for Imoe.

She had been told he’d been moved to the branch and was being treated safely, but she needed to see his condition with her own eyes to know he was truly all right.

Rrrk—

“Union Lord...!”

Everyone in the room turned at once to the Sado Union Master entering.

At that moment, Seolhwa felt, instinctively, an ominous air.

She slowly swept her gaze around the room, and as if by prior accord, they all avoided her eyes.

Seolhwa asked the Hao Sect Lord, “...How is Imoe?”

“...That is...”

He, too, failed to continue, looking away.

“...”

Seolhwa stepped closer to the sickbed.

Those at the bedside made way.

“Imoe... little brother....”

With everyone stepping aside, only Ilryong and Sambong remained at Imoe’s side.

Sambong held his breath as tears fell; Ilryong sat by Imoe, gripping his hand.

Seolhwa took Ilryong by the shoulder.

Ilryong turned to her with a stricken face.

“Union... Lord....”

Seolhwa dipped her chin in a low nod.

When Ilryong yielded his place, Imoe finally came into view.

Ssk—ssaek—

Lips bruised purple, swollen and split; a face blanched white and full of wounds.

A thin breathing that sounded like it might snap at any instant.

‘...He’s dying....’

But how?

When she had sent him off from the gorge with the Guardian Patrols, his condition had not been this dire.

He had been battered here and there and sapped from being bound long under the blazing sun, but it was something that should have improved with treatment.

“What happened.”

At her question, the physician standing at the foot of the bed stepped forward, fearful.

“Poisoning... my lord.”

“When I rescued him, there were no signs of poisoning.”

“S-sometimes there are foul poisons with long incubations. The symptoms do not appear at once, so you cannot know right after that he was poisoned, nor when the poisoning occurred....”

And not only that.

Because no one knows when it was ingested, they cannot know how long it took for symptoms to present, making treatment a struggle.

“It seems Elder Imoe ingested such a poison. And a very...”

One crafted to be vicious.

“Can you save him?”

The physician dropped his eyes, flustered.

After wavering, he edged to Imoe’s side and lifted his hand.

The fingertips had taken on a dark reddish-black tinge.

“Centered on the cervical spine, cold circulates in the upper body and heat in the lower. In contrast, the fingertips are seized by an extreme chill.”

His lips were blue and his face white.

By contrast, below the neck a red flush moved, while the fingertips were so cold they’d turned black.

“I have never seen a poison with such symptoms. Whoever made it is surely someone most adept with toxins.”

Setting Imoe’s hand down, the physician bowed his head toward Seolhwa.

“To identify the poison used, and to craft an antidote, will require much time. I am ashamed to say...”

“...”

“At this rate, Elder Imoe’s body will not endure....”

Even as he shook with fear, he did not say it could be done.

It was no different from pronouncing Imoe’s death.

Tak—

“Union Lord!”

Seolhwa burst out of the room.

Ryeong hurried after her.