"The Reckoning in the Inner Sanctuary"
“Foolish.”
The Lord of Ipwang Fortress spoke slowly, her lips barely moving.
“They’re oblivious to their own downfall.”
Reclining against the lustrous bark of an ancient tree twisted into a bed, her green hair spilled down her back like slender blades of grass. Despite her seemingly vulnerable posture, there was nothing unguarded about her.
Even lying so casually, her presence radiated a serene dominance. With only a slight tilt of her head, her gaze cast a tranquil yet oppressive weight over the room.
Her piercing green eyes didn’t stray from the shoulders of the three captains before her. In an instant, an overwhelming tension filled the space, as if the very air had been drawn taut.
"Downfall?" Jeong Yeon-shin repeated inwardly.
To him, the Fortress Lord was the epitome of peace—a master of unparalleled insight who observed the world with a lofty detachment, like the heavens themselves. Her aura, while tranquil, carried a commanding grace, untouched by hostility. Even when she had clashed swords with the leaders of the Bloodflame Cult and the Pure Demon Sect, it had seemed as though she were simply fulfilling a necessary duty.
Thus, her mention of “downfall” struck Jeong Yeon-shin as deeply peculiar.
Could the coalition’s delegates have offended her? Or did she bear an old grudge against the Ye Clan?
“I’ll need to question my family head.”
A low murmur escaped Ye Sojeo, who stood slightly behind Jeong Yeon-shin. Her usually self-centered tone had shifted, subdued by the Fortress Lord’s imposing presence.
As if in defiance of the tension, Ye Sojeo stepped forward.
“We greet the illustrious Lord of Ipwang Fortress.”
Her voice was soft, her movements measured as she executed a perfect salute. The rustle of her garments was the only sound that accompanied her bow.
Ye Sojeo, despite hearing the foreboding word “downfall,” maintained a composed exterior. It was remarkable composure for someone who knew the Fortress Lord could kill her on a whim.
“Born with privilege, I’ve had the fortune of hearing much about you,” Ye Sojeo began. “I was curious to see what lies in your thoughts. Luck has smiled upon me, allowing me to witness the fate of the treasures you hold. It fascinates me to no end how you choose to protect them.”
The Fortress Lord’s eyes, shimmering like sunlight filtering through leaves, seemed to pierce through Ye Sojeo.
“Speak further.”
Ye Sojeo continued, her voice unwavering.
“If I die at your hands today, it would mean I am wicked. If I leave here alive, it would mean my heart is pure. Your gaze, renowned for its insight, is said to perceive the truth of people and time itself.”
“So, you dare to judge me?”
“Now that I’ve witnessed it firsthand, I see it’s true. Should you deem me unworthy, my life ends here. If I survive, I shall dedicate myself to observing you.”
“Bold,” the Fortress Lord replied, her tone tinged with curiosity. “Do you seek to use my gaze as your mirror?”
“For me, such proof is worth my life.”
Ye Sojeo’s words carried a refinement that Jeong Yeon-shin hadn’t seen in her before. Her usual irreverence was replaced by an unmistakable elegance, and her polished tone took even him by surprise.
The Fortress Lord’s head tilted slightly.
“I sense the remnants of your foster father on you. What became of him?”
“He’s gone,” Ye Sojeo replied, her voice steady. “He’ll never touch my treasure again.”
“Do not claim it as yours,” the Fortress Lord commanded.
“Nor is it yours,” Ye Sojeo countered, her tone clipped yet respectful.
A suffocating silence descended, cold as frost. Jeong Yeon-shin’s instincts screamed at him to tread carefully.
What is this? Jeong Yeon-shin thought, his suspicion deepening.
There was something oddly familiar about Ye Sojeo’s behavior. While her tone and demeanor had shifted, a nagging sense of recognition lingered.
Could it be? No, that’s impossible, he thought, shaking off the absurd notion.
“I’ve slain the one who granted me mercy, so my life now holds a single purpose,” Ye Sojeo declared, her voice trembling with raw emotion. “I want to survive here. I want my desire to refine this treasure to be pure.”
Her words were resolute yet carried a vulnerability that was uncharacteristic of her usual self-assurance.
Suddenly, a sharp voice interrupted her.
“How audacious.”
Shwick.
A razor-sharp aura cut through the air. A silver spear tip, gleaming in the sunlight streaming through the window, hovered inches from Ye Sojeo’s neck.
Ak Su-rim had made her move. The sudden release of her overwhelming energy caused both women’s hair to flutter violently.
“Do not overstep your bounds,” Ak Su-rim said coldly, holding the spear with one hand.
Her mere presence was suffocating. The radiant energy emanating from her weapon seemed to compress the sunlight itself, intensifying its brilliance.
“Such insolence. You truly are a product of your clan,” Hahoe Wi-jin growled from behind Ye Sojeo. His massive frame loomed menacingly, his hand slightly raised as though ready to strike her down. The invisible pressure of his aura pressed down on the room like a mountain.
Even Jeong Yeon-shin, despite his own considerable strength, felt the oppressive atmosphere closing in. This was a display of the Fortress’s absolute power—an environment where even survival was uncertain.
“Your perception of my eyes is exaggerated,” the Fortress Lord finally spoke, her voice breaking the heavy silence. “The Eternal Sword is but a feather. It moves as my will dictates. Prove your worth.”
“Anything,” Ye Sojeo replied, her voice trembling slightly. “If it means staying by your side, I’ll do anything.”
The Fortress Lord’s response was as decisive as it was indifferent.
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“Endure the trials of this Fortress. You shall harm no one. Your place here will be determined later.”
A reprieve, but only just.
“I see,” Ye Sojeo murmured, a faint smile curling her lips. “For now, it’s enough to know that I’m not considered unworthy in your eyes. That alone brings me joy.”
Ak Su-rim frowned. “I told you not to act so brazenly.”
The spear’s tip lightly nicked Ye Sojeo’s neck, drawing a thin line of blood. The energy radiating from the weapon seemed to pulse with a life of its own, a testament to Ak Su-rim’s mastery over her craft.
Ye Sojeo, however, remained unfazed, her voice calm and laced with subtle defiance.
“I’ve learned two things today,” she said. “First, how desperately the Fortress needs more hands. And second, how much you treasure what you hold dear. It’s both reassuring and unsettling, but for now, I’m content.”
With that, she stepped back, a faint smile still lingering on her lips.
“Escort her out with Zhuge Cheong-ah,” the Fortress Lord commanded, her tone devoid of emotion.
As Ak Su-rim lowered her spear, Ye Sojeo turned to glance briefly at Jeong Yeon-shin.
Her black hair swayed as the end of her white blindfold fluttered in the breeze.
The familiarity of her movements struck Jeong Yeon-shin once more.
Could it be? he thought again, his mind racing.
The newly-appointed Ma Gwang-ik.
A seed of doubt sprouted in his heart.
Swish.
Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly felt a pull at the hem of his sleeve. A small hand had tugged it. When he turned, it was Zhuge Cheong-ah.
The young girl, who had unconsciously clutched the collar of Ma Gwang-ik’s robe, nervously parted her lips.
The meeting with the Lord of Ipwang Fortress was nearing its end, and she hadn't managed to utter a single word.
“Greetings to the Lord of Ipwang Fortress! This humble one is Zhuge Cheong-ah of the Zhuge Clan. I beseech you to accept me as a guest martial artist under Lord Ma Gwang-ik’s protection!”
“It is permitted.”
Zhuge Cheong-ah’s expression brightened, and she followed Lady Ye down the stairs.
Only then did she release Jeong Yeon-shin’s sleeve, startled by her own boldness. It seemed she planned to wait below.
Even a short response from the Fortress Lord carried that much weight. It was a testament to the immense influence of the Lord of Ipwang Fortress.
The words of the Fortress Lord stood above the laws of Ipwang Fortress.
Their authority was absolute, upheld with unwavering trust. The eyes of the Fortress Lord conveyed that clearly.
In their presence, all deliberations and procedures of the fortress became meaningless. Even in the martial world, this truth was widely acknowledged.
“Such chaos,” Hahoe Wi-jin murmured under his breath.
At last.
A space was created exclusively for the Fortress Lord and the black-clad elites.
Ak Su-rim and Hahoe Wi-jin refrained from questioning what had just occurred. It was the behavior of the highest-ranking experts of Ipwang Fortress.
If there was something to be ordered, the Fortress Lord would convey it first. If not, it was unnecessary for subordinates to pry.
Jeong Yeon-shin decided to erase his doubts for now.
The newly-appointed Ma Gwang-ik finally approached the Lord of Ipwang Fortress.
Rustle.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly knelt on his left knee, accompanied by his two seniors.
The form was one of respectful obeisance: kneeling with one knee to the ground, both hands clasped in a fist-and-palm salute. This was the etiquette reserved solely for the Fortress Lord by the warriors of Ipwang.
“Vice Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, Ak Su-rim, reports to the Lord. Alongside the Lord of Cheollim Division, we escorted Lord Ma Gwang-ik safely to the fortress. There are three injured among the Cheollim Division, but no fatalities.”
“The Commander of Cheollim Division greets the Lord of Ipwang. There were no significant issues.”
The two commanders spoke.
Ipwang Fortress was fundamentally a bridge between the imperial court and the martial world, embodying both military and martial characteristics.
Although the fortress adhered to its laws like a military institution, it did not enforce strict formats for reports.
The casual tone of the Cheollim Commander’s report was evidence of that. It was likely the highest formality someone like Hahoe Wi-jin could muster.
In contrast, Jeong Yeon-shin found Ak Su-rim’s professional demeanor refreshing. Her short black hair and black robe swayed as she gestured for the next report.
If she were to become the next Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, the spirit of the corps might become more invigorated.
‘Senior Ak is probably the strongest contender for the position.’
Jeong Yeon-shin thought this as he opened his mouth.
“...Lord Ma Gwang-ik submits his return report. I have emerged victorious in the martial arts contest of the Murim Alliance. Additionally, the two guest martial artists—Namgung Hwa-shin, the White Qilin, and another—recruited from Suncheon have returned safely.”
“You may raise your head.”
The dazzling sunlight shone directly ahead, the shimmering light tickling his ears as it refracted in the air.
“Lord Ma Gwang-ik, look into my eyes.”
Finally.
Jeong Yeon-shin met the white, radiant face of the Fortress Lord.
She slowly straightened her upper body and folded her long, outstretched legs inward.
The soft sound of her flowing jade-green robes brushing against the wooden floor was like the rustling of bark. She now sat cross-legged.
The Fortress Lord parted her lips slowly.
“You have accomplished a meritorious feat worthy of praise. You may choose your reward.”
Jeong Yeon-shin remained silent for a moment. Though he had become familiar with her calm demeanor, her presence still compelled caution.
Even without coercion, her gaze naturally commanded careful speech.
Her features and presence seemed as though they had descended from a realm beyond human reach.
Still, he had to speak his mind. The teachings of the Ipwang Lord and Tae Yeom-ryong had instilled this in him. Zhuge Hyeon and Zhuge Cheong-ah had reinforced it.
The newly-appointed Lord of Ma Gwang-ik finally opened his mouth, gazing intently at the Fortress Lord.
“I do not wish to choose. Would it be possible to grant them all?”
“...!”
Ak Su-rim’s lips moved soundlessly, forming the words, Are you insane?
Hahoe Wi-jin’s eyes widened as he turned to stare at his brazen junior.
But Jeong Yeon-shin was undeterred.
With a small gesture, he pulled out a book from his robes. In the quiet room, the sound of paper brushing against the fabric of his black robe echoed faintly.
The Fortress Lord’s gaze briefly flicked to the words inscribed on the book: Pa-Baek Chongram.
It lasted only a moment.
Then.
A soft smile graced her lips.