"…I might fall for you, Yeonsaeng."
'!?'
At King Gyeong's words, I doubted my ears for a moment.
Was this really the same man who, just moments ago, was overwhelmed and flustered by Pagung-Gwi Chosa's intimidating aura?
Sodam Sword giggled as if her belly ached from laughter.
— Seems the prince has taken a liking to your feminine appearance.
'...'
If that's really the case, he's quite something.
Not merely someone who pretends to like women, but rather someone who goes after any woman he fancies, regardless of the situation.
But the King Gyeong I've experienced isn't such a shallow person.
I ignored his words and pressed my foot against Pagung-Gwi Chosa's chest, speaking coldly.
"Where is he?"
"Haa… Haa…"
Despite the pain, he kept his mouth shut.
As expected.
He had served the Golden Emperor for a whopping three hundred years. There's no way he would spill everything just because of one question.
Then, King Gyeong approached from behind and said,
"You're trying to find out who's behind him?"
"…Yes."
"His backer is likely closely tied to Prince Jin."
I thought he was going to say something strange again, but it seemed he had regained his senses.
This man had deceived everyone for years, pretending to be lost in wine and women. Regardless of martial skill, he must have grasped the situation.
"Do you remember what he said earlier?"
"What do you mean?"
"He said that if you had the same upright beliefs as Prince Jin, even he might have regarded you fondly. It's a shame, he said. He said it just before he tried to kill me—so it probably wasn't a lie."
"…Sharp of you."
He really does have insight.
From that one line, he'd inferred the situation to some degree.
I too had considered that the Golden Emperor might have strong ties to Prince Jin.
King Gyeong smiled lightly and spoke to me.
"Your martial prowess is no joke. That flowing green robe fluttering in the wind… such dazzling skills. Truly beautiful. How could such power come from such slender arms…?"
"Excuse me a moment."
"What?"
— Tatataak!
"Urgh!"
Without warning, I struck King Gyeong's pressure point.
Collapsed from the hit, he let out a strangled cry before falling to the ground.
"Phew."
Better to put him to sleep.
Maybe it's because I look like a woman—or perhaps he was intrigued by a woman displaying such martial power—but his tone showed clear interest.
— You've got goosebumps on your thigh.
Sodam Sword noticed instantly, hidden under my skirt.
Regardless, the important one isn't King Gyeong—it's Pagung-Gwi Chosa.
The bulging veins on his face receded, and the black mist that had been seeping from his body vanished.
"Haa… Haa…"
With the ominous energy gone, he was drenched in cold sweat, panting heavily.
Despite the sudden surge in energy, he seemed to be suffering heavy fatigue—probably a side effect like the Jinhyeolgeumche, which rapidly circulates blood.
But I'd seen this before.
A disgraced disciple, Jakyungjeong, who had betrayed my sword master, had once tried to show me this "secret technique."
A dense, dark energy that felt like it consumed all light.
— Got killed before he could use it properly.
Right. He never got the chance to unleash it.
The technique had many flaws when drawing power.
But Pagung-Gwi Chosa wielded that same ominous energy—faster and far more skillfully.
Maybe he refined it over the course of three hundred years.
I asked him,
"Did you learn that from Jakyungjeong?"
He winced slightly at my question but quickly controlled his expression.
…That reaction?
So he didn't learn it from Jakyungjeong?
I stared at him and changed the question.
"Where is the Golden Emperor?"
At my blunt question, he glared at me, grinding his teeth.
Even though he's from the martial world, his loyalty—serving for so long—was extraordinary.
He snarled,
"You think you can make me talk? Stop wasting time and just kill me."
"What if I cut you apart piece by piece? Would that loosen your tongue?"
I switched tactics, mixing in a threat.
He snorted.
"Do as you wish. You think that will make me talk? Foolish wench."
— Crunch!
"Ghhk!"
I stomped hard on his chest.
You could hear the bones breaking—it was that forceful.
I said in a chilling voice,
"You've lived long, but your mouth is still foul."
"Hmph… My only regret is that I can't kill you for his sake."
He spoke without fear, undeterred.
Whether it was enlightenment from living 300 years, or resignation because he knew he couldn't stop me, I couldn't tell.
I would've liked to torture him more, but his loyalty wasn't something pain could break.
Then reducing the Golden Emperor's power was the better choice.
"Fine. What I've learned is already enough."
I gave a signal with my eyes toward a stone wall with no markings.
That it remained tightly sealed meant that the treasure left by Seobok hadn't yet fallen into the Golden Emperor's hands.
That alone was a huge win.
It meant he hadn't achieved perfect immortality yet.
Holding my blade, I gave him one last chance.
"This is your final offer. Speak now, and I'll spare your life."
"Once is enough for the shame of survival."
He hadn't forgotten what happened three hundred years ago.
Master and servant alike—so alike in their stubbornness.
Without hesitation, I brought my blade down on his neck.
— Slash! Roll...
His head rolled across the ground.
— Fwoosh!
Then I ignited his body with the flame of Sammaejin.
The sound of burning flesh was terrifying.
Even though he had regenerative powers, I needed to completely burn him to eliminate any possibility of return.
I tossed his head into the fire and turned to leave.
Among the five stone chambers in the cave, one was completely unmarked.
Surely, the secret to perfect immortality lay within.
Let's break this wall.
Clenching my fist, I thrust it forward.
Pagung-Gwi Chosa hadn't been able to break it in one blow—
— BOOM!
But with my strike, the stone surface shattered from the point of impact.
It really was solid.
Clearly built to be impenetrable.
I waved my hand, brushing away the dust.
— Is it there?
At Sodam Sword's question, I frowned.
---
A man with one golden eye entered a dark golden prison.
The masked figures inside stood at attention when he entered.
Behind them, shackled in black iron chains from head to toe, was someone slumped with labored breath.
The golden-eyed man asked,
"Still the same?"
One masked man answered,
"His recovery is too fast. No matter how many times we use illusions and poisons, they don't last."
"Increase the dosage of the illusion toxin."
Startled, the masked man protested,
"It's already excessive. Any more, and his brain may melt before his body fails."
"No matter. There's nothing more we need from him."
"…Understood."
As the masked man prepared something at a table and approached the chained prisoner, the latter slowly lifted his head.
Through his long, disheveled hair, his golden eyes still glimmered.
Though exhausted, the light in them hadn't died.
"Khuhuhu…"
The chained man saw the golden-eyed newcomer—and burst into laughter.
"You bastard!"
The masked figures rushed to inflict pain.
But the golden-eyed one stopped them.
"Stand down."
"But, Master—"
"Fall back."
The masked men stepped aside.
The golden-eyed man walked forward, now face to face with the bound prisoner.
"Why are you laughing?"
"…What… a shame… Your Majesty."
"…A shame?"
"I thought… you'd come… in person… But your caution… remains unchanged."
"What?"
The golden-eyed man's thick brow twitched at the words.
The bound prisoner chuckled and said,
"Nothing… in this world… is easy. If you could… predict it all… with just a few blades… why do you think… there were five?"
"You…!"
— Crack!
The golden-eyed man struck his head in rage.
Staring at the crushed head, he stormed out into the dark corridor and ordered someone waiting there:
"Tell Chosa not to enter the tomb carelessly."
"Yes, my lord!"
The interior of the stone chamber was shaped like a pentagon, and on each of the five walls stood a large stone case, each about the size of a coffin.
The center of the chamber was completely empty.
—Only things like coffins?
Yeah.
The layout is strange.
I don't know why the center is left empty while those stone cases are placed like that.
There might be a secret to immortality hidden inside one of those cases, so I should check them out.
It was just at that moment as I tried to enter the chamber.
I turned my head.
—Aren't you going in?
Just a moment.
I turned around and approached someone.
It was Prince Gyeong, who seemed unconscious, as though his blood points had been struck.
Looking down at him, I said,
"How is it that your blood points weren't sealed properly?"
—What are you talking about?
What I mean is...
Just then, the supposedly unconscious Prince Gyeong slowly opened his eyes.
Then, looking at me, he spoke.
"How did you know?"
'Ha!'
I was dumbfounded by his shameless question.
Not only had the Jeongyo Hwanuigyeong technique failed, but I had also directly struck his blood points—and yet, it hadn't worked.
Could he have been hiding his true strength? But the energy I sensed from him barely reached the level of a first-rate martial artist.
With that level of internal power, he couldn't possibly break free from my seal on his own.
So how did he undo it?
Prince Gyeong sat up calmly and asked again.
"I won't hold it against you that you tried to knock me out. But how did you notice?"
Was he not afraid of me?
At the very least, he must have known that I wasn't the real Yeonsaeng he remembered.
Looking straight into his eyes, I replied.
"Your breathing changed."
"My breathing?"
"A person who's truly unconscious breathes in a consistent pattern. But when the door broke, Your Highness stopped breathing for just a moment."
"You heard such a tiny sound?"
Prince Gyeong asked in surprise.
"It wasn't that small a sound."
Even other martial artists of a certain level would have noticed.
But more importantly, I needed to solve the mystery of how he woke up.
The best way wasn't sensing his energy—it was to directly examine his physical condition to see whether he had deceived me.
"Forgive my rudeness, Your Highness."
—Pop!
I grabbed Prince Gyeong's wrist with a geumnasu technique.
If he had been hiding his martial prowess, he would've dodged it easily at the speed I used.
Yet he only noticed after I had already seized his wrist.
Prince Gyeong spoke with an exasperated tone.
"This is the second time. You act boldly after giving me one-sided notice."
"I figured Your Highness would also know that I'm capable of being rude without prior warning."
At that, Prince Gyeong chuckled and said,
"Right. If you wanted, you could kill me at any time, couldn't you?"
"You're quite aware."
"But if you had intended to kill me, you would have just let that guy—who's now reduced to ash—finish the job. Wouldn't you agree?"
He was convinced I had no intention of killing him.
"There's no such thing as certainty in this world, Your Highness."
With those words, I channeled my internal energy into his pulse.
It was to assess his physical condition.
But the moment I did, I had to frown.
—What is it?
None of his meridians were functioning normally.
In fact, the human body has far more meridians than martial artists and physicians typically recognize.
But his meridians were all tangled and knotted like a twisted thread, crossing paths with the major channels.
Even worse, the primary meridians were blocked.
There, an intense yang-gang energy was obstructing his bloodstream and disrupting the flow.
In disbelief, I asked,
"...How have you endured this pain?"
With a body in such condition, each day must have felt like hell.
The fact that he could even walk around normally was nothing short of miraculous.
Prince Gyeong laughed softly and replied.
"They call it Tae-yang Jeolmaek."
"Tae-yang Jeolmaek!"
It was a condition where all the meridians were twisted and the main ones were blocked by yang-gang energy.
If Gu-eum Jeolmaek is a disease caused by excessive yin, Tae-yang Jeolmaek is the incurable version caused by excessive yang—and even rarer.
Those afflicted with it usually suffer their whole lives and die young.
"Do others know about this?"
"Neither His Majesty nor the other princes know. There are only a few who do, and now you're one of them."
It made sense that he hadn't told the royal family.
If he had, his position as a successor would have been in jeopardy.
He truly was an extraordinary man.
"So that's why you've been searching for the secret of immortality?"
Prince Gyeong didn't deny my question.
"That arrogant physician they call Mansasin-ui told me. Even if I use this medicine to control the rampaging yang, it can't cure me. He said I'd be lucky to live past thirty or forty."
'Mansasin-ui?'
Prince Gyeong pulled something out from his robes.
It was a leather pouch, and when he opened it, a cold chill emanated from within.
It seemed to be medicine infused with concentrated yin energy.
He must have been using it to control the rampant yang energy.
If even Mansasin-ui, who was rumored to cure anything but death, could only slightly extend his life, this was truly an incurable illness.
Prince Gyeong said seriously,
"I've grown tired of enduring this pain by taking medicine, drinking, and absorbing yin from countless women every day just to survive a bit longer."
So it hadn't all been for show.
"What exactly are you trying to say?"
"Let's make a deal."
"A deal?"
"I just want to be free from this pain. And that secret of immortality behind you—that's my only hope, my only way out."
"....."
"I don't care if I'm not the only one to gain immortality. I don't know who you really are, but share that secret with me. In return, I'll grant you anything you desire."
Though he spoke boldly, his eyes were filled with desperation.
I had assumed he was just another power-hungry man seeking immortality—but this was unexpected.
Staring at him, I finally spoke.
"Forgive me, but I don't think I can do that."
"What?"
"I'll be honest. It's not just about Your Highness recovering. If you were to become immortal and inherit the throne, I fear the consequences."
"What do you mean?"
"If Your Highness were to become what people call a tyrant, the people would bear the cost. I have no wish to let that happen."
At my words, Prince Gyeong suddenly burst into laughter.
"A tyrant? Hahahahahahahaha!"
Had he gone mad?
Or was he simply shocked by what I had said?
Still laughing, he looked at me and said,
"You're the first woman to ever speak so candidly to me."
"....."
Of course.
Who would dare speak so directly to one of the heirs to the throne?
Smiling, he continued.
"I don't know your real name, so I'll keep calling you Yeonsaeng."
"Suit yourself."
"Then, Yeonsaeng—how about this?"
"What are you suggesting?"
"I'll make a promise. Even if I become immortal, I'll step down from the throne after thirty years of rule."
I couldn't help but frown.
Whether he meant it sincerely or not, I hadn't expected someone aiming to be emperor to voluntarily limit his reign.
But his words had holes.
"If it's just a verbal promise, how can I trust you'll keep it?"
To that, Prince Gyeong said,
"Then stay by my side and judge for yourself."
"Me? Forgive me, but I..."
"I'm not asking you to be a subordinate."
"...Then what are you saying?"
Smiling gently, Prince Gyeong said,
"If I become emperor, be my empress."
'!!!'
For a moment, I was so dumbfounded I couldn't speak.
Who would've imagined he'd say something like that?
In my head, Sodamgeom was laughing like mad.
—Empress? Puhahahahaha!
I was at a loss for words, but Prince Gyeong went on.
"Be my empress. Stay by my side. Give me honest counsel and make sure I don't break my promise. Wouldn't that be enough?"
"..."
This was beyond absurd.
But he continued, undeterred.
"A woman unafraid of me, who can speak frankly, and is strong enough to protect me—isn't that like having an army of thousands at my side?"
"...You're making this very difficult for me."
"I mean every word."
At that, I sighed and said,
"Do I look like a woman to you?"
"Your face may be disguised, but that body and voice—how could they belong to a man..."
—Crack!
I activated Chehwa Manbyeonsul, transforming my body.
Startled, Prince Gyeong took a step back.
'!!!'
The figure before him was none other than Prince Gyeong himself.
And worse—"he" was wearing the flowing garments of a noble lady, like a mirror reflecting his own face in women's clothes.
Disgusted, Prince Gyeong scowled and said,
"...Are you mocking me?"
"Seeing is believing."
Even the voice matched his own.
Visibly horrified, Prince Gyeong trembled and said in a bitter tone,
"...Can you turn back into your female form?"
"It's possible."
"Then do it—return to Yeonsaeng at once."