It was as if her sense of reality were being crushed beneath heavy eyelids and slipping away.
She could not tell whether the things floating before her eyes were truly the cultists’ corpses or whether she was confusing them with shards of ice.
"Just throw it! I said throw it!"
Iron chains and planks were placed on the ship’s railing. It seemed they were trying to move the rocks they had been throwing to the other side, now toward her.
The fire-heated rock rose up onto the railing. Sohwa knew it was aimed at her, but she could not move.
Rrrrrip.
The faint sound of the chain unwinding reached her.
Around the plank, glimmering arrows lined up in rows.
The scene illuminated by the full moon felt like a dream.
Moonlight gleamed over the smoke rising around the rock. The warmth that spread outward vanished quickly into the darkness, yet even that felt warm to her frozen body.
Sohwa almost wished the rock would fall onto her. Her frozen body naturally longed for warmth.
But the one preparing to throw the rock suddenly stopped moving.
At the same moment, a flash of light burst from the man’s torso. It was as if a great circle had been drawn across it.
Snap.
The limbs outside the circle sloughed off, collapsing as if melting away, while the yellow robe was cleanly severed without a drop of blood.
The arrows meant for her veered inward toward the ship.
Like flower petals scattering, blunt shapes thrust upward between the arrows, swelling and collapsing again and again.
"Aaaagh!"
One terrified man tried to jump off the railing, but a large circle stamped itself across his body as well.
His scream became muffled, as if submerged underwater.
All her senses faded, and her eyes closed.
Splash.
Sohwa felt her body being pulled upward. Her cotton coat, soaked with water, felt unbearably heavy. The weight of the seawater dragging her down made it feel as though her body might tear apart.
The hand lifting her peeled off the padded coat and tossed it to the ground.
Once out of the water, the cold felt even more severe.
But only for a moment. Her drenched hair was pushed back by warm fingers. That hand touched her cheek, then stroked down the line of her neck and lower.
Pressing the points where blood flowed, he wiped away the water.
Because her blood could not circulate heat, the warmth spread faintly and disappeared.
Min Hae-rak seemed to sense this as well, for he repeatedly brushed her body. Slipping inside her wide sleeve, he felt her stiffened arm, then drew her into his embrace and placed a hand on her waist. Just as he tried to reach deeper, Sohwa caught his hand.
Tang Sohwa gathered all her remaining strength and opened her eyes. In her blurred vision, the Crimson Blood Hall Lord’s face came into view.
Gripping the purple outer robe he wore, Sohwa managed to speak.
"Your robe... please..."
Even though she could barely string the words together, Min Hae-rak seemed to understand. He immediately removed his robe and wrapped it around Sohwa’s body.
Her skin was fully exposed through the torn cloth.
The Fourth Seat and the Martial Alliance people still did not know the truth of her body. But if they saw her wounds closed, they would inevitably notice.
That frightened Sohwa.
For someone strong, such recovery would be an advantage. But for someone like her, it was a fatal weakness.
It was permission for others to inflict limitless pain until they got what they wanted.
She had just endured unbearable agony and still had not died. She could tell this secret to no one.
Clinging to her fading consciousness, Tang Sohwa continued.
"Don’t let anyone... see... for one shichen..."
Her voice broke, making the request nearly incomprehensible even to her own ears. Frustration tightened her throat, her eyes reddening as her breath grew strained.
But she felt she would have no other chance to say it.
Then a large hand rose into her line of sight.
"I’ll keep everyone away for a shichen. Sleep."
Closing her eyelids with his fingers, Min Hae-rak answered. Understanding her meaning, he wrapped the robe tightly until her entire body was hidden.
The moment Sohwa’s tension loosened and Hae-rak lifted her into his arms, she lost consciousness.
Hae-rak headed straight for the dispensary beyond the island.
Crunch.
But he was blocked—an old Northern Sea elder stood in his path, apparently having already cleared the ship.
The Fourth Seat’s gaze lowered.
"I know what you’re thinking. I’m not taking her to the Blood Demon."
The old man’s blue eyes slowly lifted. Because he had yet to withdraw his inner power, it seemed he did not trust Hae-rak.
"You must have heard it. The ridiculous thoughts she’s having right now."
In a voice unlike his usual tone—low, drained—Hae-rak continued.
"Where do you think she’ll try after the Northern Sea? I fell for that absurd talk even faster than you. Move."
But the Fourth Seat did not budge.
A golden light flickered in the Crimson Blood Hall Lord’s eyes.
"Since the Blood Demon crossed over anyway, should I let him snack on the Northern Sea rats and go back satisfied? Old man, if you don’t want to do him a favor, move."
The Fourth Seat’s eyes shifted toward the cliff.
"You broke the Passage, did you not?"
"We blocked all Passages inside the Ice Palace, but the ones outside the palace—I don’t know about those."
Sensing the elder’s agitation, Hae-rak adjusted his hold on Sohwa.
"I heard the Han dogs already noticed and ran to tell the Blood Demon. Better hurry before your people get taken."
Hae-rak’s lips twisted in a slanted smile.
"You may let Central Plains folk die neatly, but when it comes to Northern Sea folk, you haul them back alive for breeding play. You going to watch that happen again?"
The Fourth Seat vanished.
Northern Sea people always put their bloodline first; there was no way they would keep guarding an outsider with the Blood Demon possibly crossing over.
The moment the Fourth Seat disappeared, Hae-rak moved off the island.
If he went to the inner palace buildings, Central Plains people would likely find him.
The Blood Cult already seemed aware of Tang Sohwa’s constitution; the ones she most needed to hide her body’s secret from were the Central Plains people.
Hae-rak recalled the voice that had once advised him to find a place to rest his heart. He let out a hollow laugh.
'You must really have nowhere to rest your heart as well.'
Arriving at the harbor, he went straight into the dispensary.
The empty dispensary was filled with cold. As soon as he entered the room, he reached out and lit the brazier.
Fwoosh.
He had been about to lay Sohwa on the treatment bed when he realized her clothes were wet. He briefly considered changing her into dry clothing, but knowing how she would react upon waking, he abandoned the thought and instead circulated his energy, gathering heat in his hands.
"...I didn’t go through hellish training just to use it for something like this."
Feeling a sense of self-reproach, he brushed over her soaked clothes and body.
Perhaps because warmth reached her, Sohwa’s faint trembling eased, and her face relaxed.
As he swept along the hem of her garment, Hae-rak sensed something strange and looked down at her.
There were many tears in the fabric—but their placement was odd.
Below her knees, there were no marks of ripping at all, yet around the arms and torso the cloth was shredded.
"...."
Without a word, Hae-rak grasped Sohwa’s wrist. He turned it once.
Her slender fingertips brushed her knee and returned to place.
He immediately turned Tang Sohwa’s body to check her back. Her shoulder and side were torn, but the middle of her back was clean.
In a chilling voice, Hae-rak murmured,
"How ruthless you are..."
There was no way the Crimson Blood dogs had swung their weapons recklessly in dark water. In such a group plunge, they could easily wound their allies—or worse, accidentally cut the throat of the one the Blood Demon had ordered them to bring.
All the stab marks on the cloth were made by Tang Sohwa herself.
It seemed she had stabbed and cut herself in various places with a dagger no larger than her palm.
Between the blood-stained cloth, the skin beneath was perfectly healed.
Hae-rak rose and brought a roll of cloth for bandaging.
Unfurling the long cloth, he immediately pushed Sohwa’s sleeve up to her shoulder.
Rustle.
The movement of the cloth pressed down on the silence.
He wrapped the thin bandage from her wrist upward.
Despite having suffered endlessly, her body was unmarked, as though it had never been wounded.
For a long time, the Crimson Blood Hall Lord focused on covering her flawless skin with cloth. After wrapping both arms, he lowered his gaze toward her skirt but decided this was the best he could do.
He pulled over a blanket and covered her completely.
Unless someone was truly insane, they would not pull away the blanket of someone collapsed in pain—so it should be fine.
'Besides, I’ll be here until she wakes anyway.'
Hae-rak leaned against the wall, his gaze shifting to the window. Through the cracked frame, light began to leak in. Dawn was breaking.
More time had passed than he expected.
Yet Tang Sohwa had still not awakened.
"A shichen is a long time after all."
Come to think of it, the day of the fire in Hubei, Tang Sohwa had lost consciousness just like this. She had slept for about a shichen then as well.
The Crimson Blood Hall Lord’s eyes darkened.
'Does she fall into this shichen-long sleep whenever she brushes against death?'
Tang Sohwa’s body resembled the Blood Demon’s. He had never seen that old man truly endangered, but even he must have limits.
The Blood Demon likely recovered faster than a single shichen. He possessed a body even more monstrous than Sohwa’s.
As Hae-rak considered the Blood Demon’s weakness, his gaze lifted.
Someone’s presence had gathered outside the window.
Hae-rak quietly reached out and pulled the blanket up to Sohwa’s chin, hiding her. Then he spoke.
"Seems the Central Plains people sealed the outside-the-palace Passage well. You’re quick."
Instead of answering, the window opened.
Creak.
The White Ghost stood before the window, his gaze dropping. That gaze fixed directly on Tang Sohwa.
Smack.
The Crimson Blood Hall Lord reached out and grabbed the Fourth Seat’s wrist before it could touch her face.
The hand that had been about to stroke Tang Sohwa’s face froze mid-air.
Hae-rak’s killing intent was sharp, yet the Fourth Seat’s eyes stayed fixed solely on Sohwa’s face.
"The Blood Demon had one standard for telling those of my line apart. If there was a mole at the corner of the eye, he considered them my kin."
The Fourth Seat spoke as if muttering to himself.
"And long ago, the Blood Demon once took my younger sister to Geumeunsan."
Even though Min Hae-rak was not a man of few words, he could not give any reply.
Because he understood what the elder meant.
The Blood Demon would sometimes bring those who fit his tastes into his dwelling. It had happened more than once while he lived in the Great Desert.
Hae-rak already knew Tang Sohwa had received the Blood Demon’s blood. And he also knew that her mother bore the name Geumso.
Geumso. The face that never smiled.
A wrinkle formed between Hae-rak’s brows as he looked at the White Ghost.
Three years earlier, during the battles in the Northern Sea, he had crossed paths with this same White Ghost several times.
Perhaps it was the situation, but not once had he seen the old man smile. No—this White Ghost was someone who simply had no expression at all.
Hae-rak’s gaze fell to Sohwa lying on the floor.
Though their faces were entirely different, he found himself thinking the two looked alike.
