Chapter 194. Removal of the Gu Poison

Warmth spread across her face like the touch of spring sunlight.

So-hwa blinked her heavy eyelids a few times, then lifted her hand.

Her wide sleeve slid down smoothly, revealing her arm wrapped in cloth.

“……”

Realizing why her arm had felt so tight, So-hwa stared at the white bandage for a long moment before speaking.

“Did you wrap this?”

“Yeah.”

The short answer came back.

The skill was on par with that of any competent physician. It was wrapped neatly, even considering the bend of the elbow.

Judging by how naturally the Main Blood Hall Lord tended to wounds, it seemed he had treated his own injuries many times before.

As she quietly gauged the mood of the room, laughter drifted over.

“What is it? Amazed again that there’s nothing I can’t do?”

Since she had been thinking the same thing, So-hwa said nothing and lowered her arm.

Rising from her seat, she turned toward the direction from which the scent of peonies flowed.

Leaning against the wall stood Haerak, rolling a small flying dagger in his hand as he watched her.

“Are you all right?”

So-hwa nodded.

Out of habit, she touched her sleeve—then realized all her hidden weapons were gone. Her face showed mild embarrassment.

She brushed aside her hair, which reached down to the floor, and glanced around.

Perhaps bothered by her searching, Haerak straightened his upper body.

“Do you need something?”

So-hwa’s gaze drifted back to him—more precisely, to his hand.

She was about to speak, but pressed her lips shut.

“What?”

Haerak narrowed his eyes.

“What were you going to say? Don’t leave me hanging.”

“……Isn’t that flying dagger mine?”

No matter how she looked at it, it seemed familiar.

Though she hadn’t engraved a mark on it, she couldn’t be sure.

In the Murim, few inscribed family seals onto throwing weapons since retrieving them was often difficult. Most were plain, and if ornamented, they were meant for collection, not combat.

The dagger in Haerak’s hand was plain as well, making it hard for her to claim ownership.

Even so, it felt familiar.

Once, she had accidentally spilled Bone-Melting Powder, which corroded the flying dagger’s tip. The damage was in the same spot.

As So-hwa stared intently, Haerak casually hid the flying dagger in his palm and said,

“Why do you think it’s yours?”

So-hwa almost mentioned a mark only its owner would notice, but stopped herself.

Whatever reason the Main Blood Hall Lord had for taking interest in it, she didn’t mind.

It only nagged her because it reminded her of the elders of her clan, who always scolded her not to lose her weapons.

Still, it was a guilt she could live with.

If the Main Blood Hall Lord wanted it, she could give him far more.

He had guarded a secret more precious than her life. How could she insult such a benefactor over a mere dagger? Besides, she had been looking for a flying dagger precisely to repay him.

So-hwa swallowed her words and made a request instead.

“Even if it’s not mine, it doesn’t matter. Just lend it to me for a moment.”

“And then you’ll just take it, won’t you?”

Haerak’s voice carried suspicion, but So-hwa found the argument meaningless and ignored it. Instead, she explained why she needed it.

“I’ve found a way to remove the Blood Demon’s blood. You must be impatient as well, so let’s finish it now.”

The moment she finished speaking, she bit her index finger. Haerak quickly approached and grabbed her wrist.

“What are you doing?”

“As I said before, we need to mix our blood.”

“……”

“There’s no need to worry. Your blood won’t submit to mine. My blood only reacts to that of the Blood Demon. Once it’s all drawn out, it’ll be fine.”

Haerak let out a voice full of disbelief.

“……Yeah, this is yours. Just take it, and don’t go biting yourself again.”

He released her wrist and handed her the dagger.

So-hwa looked down at the flying dagger, then spoke quietly.

“You can keep it if you want, but…”

After a brief pause, she asked,

“Why did you lie and say it was yours?”

She couldn’t understand it. For the Main Blood Hall Lord, such a plain weapon seemed far beneath him. What reason could there be?

Haerak chuckled dryly.

“What other reason could there be? I wanted it.”

“You can take it back once I’m done using it.”

In truth, she could easily give him hundreds more like it.

If Haerak wished, she would even craft him a dagger forged from Cold Iron.

Because thanks to him, her secret was safe, and for that, she felt she could grant any unreasonable request.

Unaware of her thoughts, Haerak gave a faint laugh and extended his arm.

“Fine. Use it well and hand it back when you’re done.”

Gripping the dagger, So-hwa nodded.

“It will be over quickly.”

So-hwa placed her fingertips on Haerak’s wrist.

Tiny vibrations mingled with his pulse and traveled up through her hand.

She carefully moved her fingers along, tracing the meridians where she could feel the pulse and the faintest waves of energy.

The pulse quickened.

Closing her eyes, So-hwa focused entirely on the sensation at her fingertips.

Slowly, her fingers brushed across his skin—until she found a spot where the wave pulsed stronger than the heartbeat itself.

When she opened her eyes again, she found her hand resting squarely at the center of Haerak’s palm.

She was about to cut the Nogung Point when she lifted her head—and met the steady gaze of the bloodline of the Solar Palace watching her.

“Until the Blood Demon’s blood is completely removed, my thoughts will continue to affect you.”

Her tone was calm and steady.

“If I lose focus, I might harm you by mistake. So I’ll think only of purging the Blood Demon’s blood, nothing else. I’d like you to trust me and stay silent.”

Haerak’s lips curved faintly to one side.

“Then I’ll leave it to you.”

He didn’t seem nervous at all.

With no trace of jest in his demeanor, So-hwa lowered her gaze again to concentrate.

She pricked the Nogung Point lightly with the tip of the flying dagger, like inserting a needle.

A small bead of blood welled up, and soon crimson began to flow around it.

Watching that, So-hwa cut her own thumb.

Drip.

Then she pressed her thumb against Haerak’s wound, sealing it as if to block the bleeding. At once, a fierce tremor surged beneath her fingertip.

Thump, thump.

The reaction made the skin of Haerak’s palm tighten and ripple. He swallowed his groan, but his body couldn’t fully hide the pain.

He seemed to be in pain, so she had to finish as quickly as possible.

So-hwa reached out with her thoughts, speaking silently to the Gu poison of the Blood Demon.

‘Come out. All of you.’

Dark specks began to bloom around the Nogung Point. The Gu poison swelled and contracted repeatedly, writhing as if in defiance.

At the same time, the veins on the back of Haerak’s hand bulged.

The invading Gu poison seemed to fill every vessel in his arm.

So-hwa’s brows knit together.

Suddenly, the movement of the Gu poison stopped.

The poison that had been seeping from the wound began flowing back into Haerak’s hand.

‘If I force it out, does it just return to the body?’

As she observed, So-hwa’s expression hardened.

Just then, the color of the Gu poison changed.

Only around the Nogung Point where her blood had touched.

The black specks brightened faintly, taking on a purplish hue.

A subtle difference, but So-hwa didn’t miss it.

Like a drop of purple dye falling into black water, the blood of a deep purplish hue began to spread inward, devouring the darkness running along his arm.

Rustle.

So-hwa pushed up Haerak’s sleeve to see clearly.

The black veins stretched to the inner elbow, and now they, too, began to change.

When the color had completely shifted, the Gu poison suddenly turned pitch-black again. So-hwa swallowed her exclamation.

‘So that’s how it changes…’

Even when she injected her own blood into the Blood Demon’s host, it needed time to merge.

Regretting that she hadn’t measured the duration, she focused once more.

‘Come out.’

She gently brushed Haerak’s palm, coaxing the Gu poison like one soothing a frightened creature.

‘Don’t leave even a single drop behind. Come out, all of you.’

So-hwa could feel the tremors beneath her finger.

The blood seemed frightened by the sudden shift—it approached the wound, then retreated again and again.

So-hwa, as though comforting an unresponsive child, whispered in her thoughts.

‘Haven’t you tormented him long enough? It’s time to stop. Give your host back his freedom and free yourselves from this dark arts.’

Perhaps it was only her imagination, but the vibrations stilled.

So-hwa slowly lifted her finger.

Then, as if a dam had burst, blood streamed out in a rush.

Drip, drip.

Her gaze slid down Haerak’s arm—the black veins were shrinking.

Like coughing up blood, the wound pulsed and expelled the Gu poison in heavy surges.

The darkened area shrank from the size of a bean to that of a grain of rice.

So-hwa suppressed the urge to squeeze out the remaining blood and waited for the Gu poison to come out on its own.

Then—

Plop.

The last droplet of black liquid fell, and pure red blood began to flow instead.

Without realizing it, So-hwa let out a sigh of relief.

“Ha.”

The sound of her own breath felt unusually loud.

She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding it in.

After a while, Haerak’s voice broke the silence.

“…Is it done?”

When she lifted her gaze, the Main Blood Hall Lord was watching her, tension etched across his face.

So-hwa gave a small nod.

“I think so. Would you like to confirm it?”

“How?”

“Try breaking the Blood Demon’s restriction.”

“Ah.”

Haerak let out a faint, dry laugh.

He opened his mouth as if to speak right away—but no sound came out.

He looked… afraid.

It wasn’t fear of pain.

No, it was the fear of hope itself—the fear of being disappointed after daring to believe.

It was the same fear So-hwa had felt that day when she risked her life, when the goal she had longed for was finally within reach. Joy hadn’t been what she felt then—only dread.

So she didn’t rush him. She simply waited until Haerak was ready.

His lips parted and closed a few times before he finally looked her in the eyes, decision made.

When those golden eyes met hers, a warm current spread through the air. His voice carried a weight that resonated straight through her chest.

“The Blood Demon wants to hide its existence in the Central Plains. It wants to obtain everything it desires completely, without any failure.”

Haerak let out a short, bitter chuckle.

He placed a hand over his chest and brushed the area slowly. Then, tugging open his collar, he glanced down at his bare skin.

But it was clear and unblemished.

So-hwa remembered the last time she had checked his body while trying—and failing—to feed him the antidote.

Back then, pitch-black veins had spread like spiderwebs, all converging toward his heart.

Now, even as Haerak’s fingers swept across the area again and again, his body showed no reaction.

At last, his eyes returned to hers.

Tang So-hwa met those golden irises head-on and waited.

Everything she thought she knew was only conjecture. What she needed now was his answer.

Yet instead of answering, Haerak let out a faint, unreadable laugh.

His long fingers reached toward So-hwa’s face.

When they brushed her lips, one finger pressed lightly against her lower lip.

“You’ll hurt yourself if you keep doing that.”

Only then did she realize she’d been biting her lip without noticing. She also consciously loosened the fist she had been clenching so tightly.

“That was the restriction, wasn’t it?”

“It was. Thanks to you, it’s weakened over the past few months—enough that it wouldn’t kill me anymore. Still, if I slipped up and spoke the wrong words, it would crawl up to my heart and… itch unpleasantly.”

Haerak trailed off, his hand rising once more to his chest.

He rolled his tongue inside his mouth before letting out a hollow chuckle.

“…Too easy.”

The words carried a faint bitterness, laced with an anger he didn’t quite express.

He fell silent again, unable or unwilling to continue.

So-hwa couldn’t understand what he was feeling.

How could she possibly comprehend the emotions of someone who had been bound to the Blood Demon for decades?

If she tried to comfort him clumsily, she might only wound him further.

And she knew herself well enough to admit—she was no good at comforting anyone.

So-hwa quietly picked up a cloth lying beside the acupuncture needles and wiped the blood from Haerak’s palm. She could feel his gaze on her, but she deliberately ignored it.

Wordlessly, she tidied up the space and wiped the bloodstains from the flying dagger.

Placing the dagger back on Haerak’s palm, she checked the wound—it had not yet closed—then rose to her feet.

“Wait here. There’s salve outside, I’ll bring it.”

But before she could take a step, her view shifted—then fell.

Without warning, Haerak pulled her into his arms.

Rustle.

The faint sound of her long robe brushing against his clothes brushed her ears.

The Main Blood Hall Lord, holding the back of her head, buried his face against her shoulder.

At any other time, So-hwa would have reacted with anger. But now, she couldn’t move.

His entire body trembled against her, and his breath was warm against her ear.

After a long silence, his voice came, low and rough, breaking against her eardrum.

“…Thank you.”

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