Chapter 165. Outside the Tiger’s Den

The Bloodless Full Moon Sword was said to be a sword art where a blade wrapped in extreme yin qi (energy) would draw a perfect circle like the moon, severing neck and limbs outside the body—yet not a single drop of blood would fall.

This was because the yin qi touched the flesh before the sword did. The wound, frozen instantly, could not bleed.

The sword itself was nothing more than a vessel to release the yin qi. It never touched anything in its wielder’s lifetime. Such was the mysterious sword art.

It had always been told like a legend, never actually witnessed. Most people of the Central Plains were the same.

But Namgung Jin, born into a martial clan of sword users, recognized the traces with a single glance. And now, he seemed to have deduced the sword art behind them.

Tang So-hwa had once thought the Bloodless Full Moon Sword was just an exaggeration of the yin qi of the North Sea Ice Palace, but Namgung Jin clearly did not agree. He was convinced this cave was a mark of the Ice Palace’s bloodline. She hadn’t realized his eyes could gleam like that.

If the Young Lord’s suspicion was correct—that someone had carved out this cave with sword qi—then the martial might involved was extraordinary.

‘Why would someone so powerful go out of their way to do something like this…?’

So-hwa’s thoughts trailed off, and she raised one brow slightly, her gaze shifting toward the children loitering outside the room.

‘If they cherish these children so much, why leave them behind unguarded?’

While Namgung Jin pressed close to the wall, wholly absorbed in the Ice Palace’s sword art, So-hwa fixed her eyes on the children beyond the curtain.

She caught snatches of speech, some understandable, others not.

Through the cracks in the wooden planks, she saw their frail bodies.

At once, So-hwa grasped the situation.

And since fortune had brought them here while the martial artists were away, she thought this was an opportunity she could use.

Slowly, she traced letters into Namgung Jin’s palm.

『That man seems to be keeping us here intentionally.』

Namgung Jin nodded even before she finished writing, as if he had been thinking the same.

So-hwa carefully continued, slow enough for him to follow each character.

『Judging from how the children tried to protect that man when we first arrived, it seems all the martial artists have left their posts.』

Again, he nodded in agreement.

Writing instead of speaking took far too long.

The children who had been peeking in out of curiosity eventually grew bored and went off to play outside the cave.

Silence settled within, and So-hwa quietly pressed on with her words.

『If what they’re doing is waiting for their martial artists to return, then we should head back to the clinic for now.』

Instead of replying, Namgung Jin lifted his gaze to meet hers.

It was a questioning look.

Why go back now, after coming all the way here in search of the Ice Palace bloodline, without even meeting them?

So-hwa held his eyes for a moment, then moved her finger again.

『From the look of the children and that man, food here is scarce.』

Seeing that he understood, she lowered her gaze once more.

『Perhaps the martial artists left them behind to procure supplies.』

“…”

『If they hear that a clinic has opened at the southernmost harbor, they’ll come looking for us. Searching for food is far more likely than scouring the snow mountains, wouldn’t you agree?』

In truth, even if not for food, they would surely come once to confirm things.

After all, outsiders who had discovered the bloodline’s hideout had vanished without a word.

『And besides, they will want to ask many questions about Bai Yunhai, the Great Warrior. They might think he left us words, or simply be curious about Central Plains people who know his name.』

Keeping her gaze on his broad palm, So-hwa’s finger traced one last line.

『Even without us begging for an audience, they will come to us themselves.』

Her eyes finally lifted to meet his again.

『There is no need to sit here obediently at their stronghold.』

They were the weaker side, after all.

Their numbers were pitiful, and their knowledge of the North Sea was nonexistent.

Waiting quietly at the Ice Palace bloodline’s stronghold for their martial artists to return was no different from laying one’s neck on the chopping block.

Until now, So-hwa had believed that if one wished to meet the tiger, stepping into its den was inevitable. But now that an opportunity had presented itself, there was no reason not to use it.

Tang So-hwa wanted to lure the Ice Palace bloodline to the clinic. With piles of food and medicinal herbs stacked behind her, any conversation would look—at least visually—like she held the upper hand.

Appearances mattered more than one might think. It was no coincidence that her father had decorated the Red Radiance Hall so lavishly before meeting with guests. Sometimes, merely making one’s possessions appear greater than they were was enough to exert temporary pressure.

Leaving the clinic behind in the gorge while telling the Ice Palace bloodline that it contained food and medicine would be meaningless.

Even if they believed the words and went to the harbor, they would only find unclaimed goods—and feel little of consequence.

If they returned to the clinic, So-hwa was confident she could press herbs and food into their hands, binding them with a sense of obligation.

‘And there are ways to ensure they keep coming back for help in the future, too.’

She kept that last thought to herself and fixed her eyes intently on Namgung Jin.

Fortunately, Namgung Jin responded positively.

Though their reasoning differed, the Namgung clan’s eldest son often reached conclusions much like hers.

He nodded once, then wrote in her palm.

『If we are going to leave, it would be best to depart immediately.』

***

The man opened the basket of vegetables. Inside were shriveled leaves as dry as hay and two half-rotten carrots. He tossed them into a pot, added scoops of snow, and lit a fire. Soon, a thin vegetable broth began to boil.

The bloodline of the Northern Ice Palace was sustaining themselves on nothing more than this broth.

Lately, even the farmlands had fallen under the reach of the Second Seat’s curse, leaving them short of food.

Though the bloodline had shared what little they had with the weaker North Sea folk first, even that supply was meager. The gorge where the North Sea people lived would also reach its limit soon.

The First Generation Lord let out a sigh.

‘How much longer can we endure?’

It now felt as though they stood at a crossroads: wage all-out war against the Blood Sect, or bend their knees.

Feeling weakness creep into his heart, the First Generation Lord shook his head.

‘No. We must hold on. The cultivation of the Seven Seats must never be disturbed.’

The Seven Seats of the North Sea were their final hope.

The seventh seat would soon be filled, and all they could do was wait.

Though he could not say when that day would come, all of the bloodline’s most talented had gone in with the Fourth Seat. At least one of them was bound to blossom.

The First Generation Lord’s gaze dropped to the black powder laid out beside the pot. Once, he would never have stooped to such cowardice—he would have simply asked the Central Plains people to wait. But with his body in this state, he dared not take the risk. If they fled, he had no strength left to pursue.

Just as he was about to sprinkle the sleeping powder into the broth, a groan echoed from outside.

“Ugh…”

He set the vial down and hobbled out of the kitchen.

One of the four children who had fainted had regained consciousness. The man quickly bent over to check the boy’s condition.

“Are you all right?”

“Ugh… Lord….”

The memory of the Central Plains woman checking their sight flashed in his mind. The First Generation Lord hurriedly raised a single finger.

“Your eyes—can you see clearly?”

“Yes, it’s fine. But my stomach…”

The boy twisted his head and gagged. Yet with nothing in his belly, he couldn’t throw up anything.

The man recalled the Central Plains physician’s insistence that the children needed nourishment. He rushed back to the kitchen, filled a bowl of broth, and returned.

“Drink this first.”

“But… my stomach feels awful.”

“She said you need food to regain your strength. Just try it.”

The First Generation Lord had never seen anyone survive the Second Seat’s curse before—he had no idea how to treat it. All he could do was imitate what the Yeonju physician had done.

Seeing how the first child to regain consciousness had already recovered enough to go outside proved her prescription worked.

“Yes, I can’t waste time! I must ask the physician to take a look at you herself.”

The First Generation Lord, who had only moments ago planned to drug the two Central Plains people, shamelessly decided to seek their aid instead.

‘I shouldn’t have sent Najin away.’

He had told her to fetch snow because he feared she might stop him if she saw him add medicine to the broth—yet now he needed her at once.

Pulling on a worn fur cloak, the man forced his failing body to climb along the cliff. But when he reached the sleeping quarters, an eerie silence greeted him.

With a stricken face, he searched every room. Not a soul remained inside.

“No… impossible!”

The Central Plains people had vanished without a trace.

His face drained of blood.

The man staggered to the cliffside and shouted.

“Najin!”

His voice reverberated through the gorge.

Because they lived in hiding, he never raised his voice. But the matter was too urgent.

Moments later, something leapt up from below the cliff and landed beside him.

“Lord, what’s wrong?”

“The Central Plains people are gone. If they reveal our location to others…”

His body shuddered, and Najin’s eyes widened. She was just as shocked, but seeing her lord trembling, she tried to steady him.

“I’ll go after them—”

“No! It’s too dangerous alone! That swordsman with them was no ordinary man.”

Najin’s expression hardened.

“Then… then I’ll seek out the Fourth Seat. We’ve reached our limit anyway—”

“Don’t you dare say such nonsense! Whatever happens, the cultivation of the Seven Seats must not be disturbed!”

Najin pressed her lips together, though her eyes said she had much more to say.

The man, torn between choices, looked out across the cliff before speaking as though resolved.

“The Second Generation Lord should be back soon. Go to the sentry post. The outsiders said themselves they’ve set up at the southernmost harbor—have the Second Lord scout that place. That swordsman won’t pose a threat to him.”

“But, the harbor…”

“It’s been years. Perhaps interest there has waned. I don’t know if their words are true, but if people can indeed come and go there, then it’s worth confirming. Just tell him to be cautious.”

Najin nodded and immediately took off.

After leaping up the cliff several times, the girl disappeared into a small cave.

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