Cheonjeong glanced to his left.

Cheongak was sleeping like a rock.

No matter what kind of chaos broke out.

Someone could probably carry him off and he wouldn’t notice.

“Did I… maybe… cause Head Senior some trouble…”

“No. You looked like you were having a hard time, so I just kept an eye on you.”

Only then did Cheon Soyak let out a breath of relief.

Cheonjeong watched her quietly.

She wasn’t a bad kid.

And he’d never once seen anything innately cruel in her.

So how could she put words that horrific in her mouth?

“…Something must’ve happened.”

Cheonjeong put on his outer coat first, then went out of the tent.

“It’s cold outside. Put something on and come out.”

“Yes, Head Senior…”

The outer coats Eunsong had prepared for the three of them.

Light, tough, quick-drying, warm, and breathable.

They were clearly expensive.

Soyak pulled hers on and followed him.

She knew she muttered whenever she had nightmares.

On the road when she first met Eunsong and came to Mount Hua—

Even him, the man who had now become her master, had heard it.

“…How much did I say?”

She was anxious.

Because she couldn’t guess how much Cheonjeong had heard, or how far he’d been able to gauge from it.

Of course, it wasn’t that he was untrustworthy, but…

With a sigh, she stepped out of the tent.

Cheonjeong was already outside, looking up at the moon.

It was a full moon, completely round.

Flame-Saber Lord Ak Jupae seemed to have chopped down a large log somewhere and was using it as a bed.

He’d gathered and piled up all the branches and started a fire, and it looked fairly convincing.

“Fresh wood shouldn’t catch easily. Was it possible because he’s a master of the Flame-Dragon Saber Canon?”

Cheonjeong watched that for a moment, then checked Soyak’s complexion again.

It was better than before.

But she still didn’t look like her usual calm, composed self.

Her eyes were still rimmed red, and her slender shoulders trembled weakly.

“It’d be best if you came over here and sat.”

It was the stump of the big log Ak Jupae had cut down.

The broad cut surface was big enough for two people to sit on.

Soyak willingly sat beside Cheonjeong.

“Are you okay?”

“…I had a nightmare.”

The end of her sentence wavered thinly.

Cheonjeong didn’t take that at face value.

A simple nightmare didn’t do that.

That was resentment carved into bone.

A grudge that yearned for revenge.

“What kind of child did Master bring back…”

That her nature wasn’t evil was proven even by the short time they’d spent together.

But she wasn’t a child who acted like her age.

An old soul.

A junior sister who’d gone through storms and trials too early.

Even so, the words Soyak had muttered in her sleep were shocking.

“Burn them alive the same way—what kind of revenge is that… don’t tell me.”

She’d said “father” and “mother.”

Was it revenge for her parents?

And “burn them alive the same way”…

Don’t tell him.

“Can you tell me about that nightmare?”

“…Head Senior.”

“If it’s hard—if you still don’t trust me—you don’t have to say it. What could I even do to help, anyway.”

Soyak lowered her head quietly.

He was right.

What could he possibly do?

Burn Flame-Saber Lord Ak Jupae to death as revenge?

Lend strength to the eventual final battle against the Alliance Leader, the Sword Sovereign Namgung Ak, who’d made this world what it was?

All of that was later.

After she grew her strength for a long time.

And if she said it coldly…

Right now, Cheonjeong was a head senior she could trust.

But no one could know whether he would share her purpose in the future.

And beyond that…

She still couldn’t bring herself to speak about what happened back then.

Because that meant hearing it again with her own ears.

Even if the one speaking was herself.

Soyak couldn’t endure it.

Just having it come every night, every dream, as a nightmare was already hard enough to endure.

If she dredged it up again after waking…

Her Heart Demon would come.

Even now, Soyak was making an effort not to look at Ak Jupae.

Because she was afraid her hand might move to the sword-hilt without her realizing it.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Head Senior.”

“…Is that so.”

“It’s just… too hard to put into words…”

Soyak trailed off.

Cheonjeong didn’t press her anymore.

Because he’d never seen her like this.

This weak.

“…I’m sorry. Was I harsh with you?”

“No. It’s not that…”

Soyak shook her head.

Her black hair swayed like a tiered curtain.

“When the time comes.”

“…The time hasn’t come yet.”

“Yes. Someday—when I’ve gone a little numb to my own grief—I’ll tell you.”

You could only speak of grief after it faded.

Soyak was still too young to forget the resentment and sorrow from then.

Cheonjeong nodded quietly.

This was probably him pushing her too hard.

“Alright. I’ll wait as long as you need.”

“…Thank you.”

There was no need to strain to uncover everything.

He was Soyak’s head senior, not her watcher.

A protector only had to fulfill the duty of protection.

Anything more would only make her uncomfortable and burdened.

“Alright. Then let’s talk about something else.”

Cheonjeong let out a small laugh and loosened the bundle at his waist, setting it on his knees.

He’d heard it was the divine object held by the head of the Shandong Ak Family.

“Don’t you want to see it once?”

“…Is that really okay?”

“Master didn’t say you weren’t allowed to look.”

True.

If it were so secret that even letting your eyes touch it was taboo—

They wouldn’t have handed it to him wrapped in cloth.

Cheonjeong boldly untied the knot.

And what emerged was a spear blade.

But it wasn’t an ordinary spear blade.

A crescent-moon-shaped blade—what people commonly called a moon fang—was attached to the side.

A spear like that was called a halberd.

The weapon said to have been used by the Three Kingdoms general Lü Bu was also a halberd.

Only, his had moon fangs on both sides, so it was called a Sky-Piercing Fire Halberd.

This was a weapon of the same lineage.

“…The Demon-Warding Halberd.”

Soyak read the characters engraved where the haft would be fitted.

A halberd that crushes and splits demons.

Perhaps because the letters were inlaid with gold, they hadn’t faded even after a long passage of time.

She reached out with a small hand and gently traced the blade.

How long had it sat sealed away in a storehouse?

And yet it was the divine object of the Shandong Ak Family.

Not only was it free of rust—its edge wasn’t dull, either.

The cool sensation catching on her fingertips proved it.

“How is it, Soyak?”

“It’s a famous spear. It truly deserves to be a family’s divine object.”

How many masters of the Ak Family Spear had gripped this weapon?

A spear blade passed from hand to hand, carrying the same mnemonic verses and the same internal power of its use.

If that happened, even faintly, something called a “function” would be carved into it.

A simple weapon that was merely made from expensive metal—

Became a weapon optimized for the martial art inherited within that bloodline.

With less internal power, it produced greater effect.

When that happened in the hands of a single person, it was called a treasured weapon.

But if it happened across many generations’ hands?

That faint “function” layered again and again, blooming into something fierce and special.

Ancient stories, long years, and that thick, accumulated function—

That was what people called a family or sect’s “divine object.”

This Demon-Warding Halberd was the same.

You could tell with a single stroke of the blade.

This was a spear meant only for the Ak Family Spear.

Just as Falling Blossom Tranquil Edge was wholly a sword meant for the inheritor of the Harmonization Scripture.

Soyak quietly drew her own sword.

And held it under the moonlight.

This, too, had something engraved into it.

She could feel that much for sure.

But what function was carved into it?

That was a mystery.

A function that refused to be drawn by anyone who wasn’t the inheritor of the Harmonization Scripture?

Such things did exist.

But it was strange.

It wasn’t an object dangerous enough to need that kind of restriction.

For a “lock” like that to be attached, it had to be, at the very least, a living demonic sword.

“You said that one is a kind of heirloom too.”

“Yes, Head Senior. It’s something I inherited.”

“It’s a good sword. Even accounting for how narrow and long it is.”

“It is.”

Cheonjeong would see it that way.

But Soyak didn’t.

Because she had learned the Falling Plum Elegy.

The Falling Plum Elegy had to be free, like falling petals.

For that, the blade had to be narrow so it was easy to shift grips.

The Falling Plum Elegy had to be sorrowful, like a plum blossom falling.

For that, the blade had to be long so it was easy to paint the representation.

But Soyak didn’t point it out or correct him.

The Falling Plum Elegy…

Wasn’t something to show the world yet.

Just as that thought reached her—

She sensed a presence.

A fierce aura approaching.

It didn’t seem like they even intended to hide their internal power.

“…Head Senior.”

“I feel it too.”

Cheonjeong wrapped the Demon-Warding Halberd back in cloth and fastened it at his waist.

Flame-Saber Lord Ak Jupae was already on his feet, drawing his saber.

Even Cheongak rolled out of the tent, tumbling, and leveled his sword.

And the moment a figure burst out of the brush—

Soyak’s Falling Blossom Tranquil Edge shot out even faster than Ak Jupae.

But Ak Jupae roared, stopping Soyak in her tracks.

“Stop!!!!”

Chapter 70

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