The return of the granddaughter of the Namgoong family

In front of the burning Patriarch’s Hall of the Namgung Clan.

Namgung Moon knelt, his blood vessels sealed and one arm severed, yet he refused to surrender his killing intent.

“Even if my limbs are torn apart, I will never betray Namgung! Kill me if you must! I will have my revenge, even from hell!”

His eyes burned like flames, a fire that symbolized both the destruction of Namgung and his thirst for vengeance against Ilhwa.

Facing Namgung Moon’s unyielding defiance, Ilhwa thought his final act of resistance was a futile display.

Everything had been reduced to ashes. Everything had ended.

Yet he continued to burn with vengeance until the bitter end.

That day, Ilhwa severed Namgung Moon’s remaining limbs.

Even so, he never revealed the location of Namgung’s secret martial texts.

And even in his final moments, he refused to withdraw his killing intent toward Ilhwa.

Despite his sealed blood vessels and mutilated body, despite bleeding profusely and dying a slow, agonizing death, his resolve never wavered.

“….”

Ilhwa opened her eyes.

The vivid image of Namgung Moon’s face glaring at her until the very end resurfaced in her mind.

It wasn’t just him.

Namgung Yeom, the Outer Quarters Master whose head she had taken in a single stroke, had also died with his eyes wide open.

His gaze, filled with rage and resentment, remained seared into her memory.

Was this why her chest ached and felt weighed down like a stone the moment she set foot in Namgung?

Because of the discomfort of having to face them and speak with them as though nothing had happened?

Ilhwa stretched her hand toward the ceiling.

Whenever the reality of her regression felt surreal, she found herself repeatedly staring at her own hands—a habit that had developed over time.

The sight of her small hands made her past life seem like nothing more than a fleeting dream.

Clenching and unclenching her weak-looking hands, which seemed barely strong enough to hold a sword, she silently repeated to herself:

“It never happened.”

Softly, like a mantra to comfort herself, she whispered:

“None of it happened.”

After a brief rest on the bed, the attendants informed her it was time for lunch.

The meal laid before her was composed of nothing but exquisite dishes.

From a lamb soup to a stir-fried duck dish seasoned with nuts and spices, the table was filled with rare delicacies she had never encountered in her past life.

As Ilhwa scanned the dishes, her gaze landed on one that made her tilt her head in curiosity.

What is this?

It was a dish covered in long, green leaves, neatly wrapped so the contents were hidden.

It seemed like the leaves needed to be removed, but their intricate arrangement made it hard to disrupt them.

As Ilhwa prodded at the leaves with her chopsticks, one of the younger attendants, who had been watching her, hesitated before stepping forward.

“May I assist you with that?”

When Ilhwa set down her chopsticks and nodded, the attendant smiled brightly and picked up the chopsticks.

Without hesitation, the attendant began to peel away the leaves encasing the dish.

“This dish is a medley of various seafoods boiled together. It pairs wonderfully with the bamboo shoots it’s served with.”

“Why is it wrapped in leaves?”

“These are bamboo leaves. They infuse the dish with their aroma and preserve its flavors.”

“Ah, I see.”

Looks delicious.

The scent wafting from the dish, now free of its leafy wrapping, was tantalizing and made her mouth water.

“At Namgung, we prepare the finest meals for the guests of Cheongakwon at every mealtime. Cheongakwon’s guests are given priority above all others…”

“Mmhmm.”

Even as the attendant spoke, Ilhwa’s attention was fully absorbed by the food in front of her.

Watching this, the young attendant stifled a giggle.

“…?”

“Oh! I-I apologize!”

The attendant hastily bowed in apology.

“It’s just… the esteemed guest is so… adorable…!”

Ilhwa’s brow arched.

Adorable? Me?

Was there anything more incongruous than someone calling an assassin “adorable”?

To think I’d hear such a thing from a Namgung servant, of all people.

She wasn’t sure what had amused the attendant, but the excuse was absurd.

“It’s fine. You may leave now.”

The young attendant bowed and quickly left the room as if fleeing. Ilhwa paid her no mind and resumed her meal.

The food prepared by Namgung was, in a word, flawless.

***

After finishing her hearty meal, the attendants swiftly cleared the dishes and utensils.

Their movements were efficient and noiseless, hinting that they, too, had been trained in martial arts.

Once everyone had left, Ilhwa sat cross-legged on the bed and began circulating her inner energy.

Even back in the cave, Ilhwa had noticed this, but cultivating pure inner energy felt different. The more she circulated it, the clearer her meridians became, leaving her body refreshed.

It was vastly different from the explosive, bloodlust-driven energy of the Blood Arts she had wielded before, which surged violently and craved the scent of blood.

Though the quantity of her inner energy didn’t increase easily, it was far easier to control, making it much more versatile.

“At the moment, I’m only at the level of a second-rate martial artist.”

In her previous life, just before her death, Ilhwa’s martial skills had reached the pinnacle of Hwagyeong (the Fire Realm).

Comparable to Namgung Mucheon’s current level.

No, perhaps her inner energy quantity had even surpassed his.

“Though it wasn’t as strong, since it was gained through unnatural methods.”

However, those who had once conquered a realm and those who hadn’t could never have the same mindset.

This time, Ilhwa had resolved to walk the righteous path. It would likely take her longer to progress, but just because she had died and been reborn didn’t mean her enlightenment had disappeared.

“At the very least, I should be able to reach Hwagyeong faster than in my previous life.”

No—I must.

By following the proper path, and swiftly.

“….”

As she continued to circulate her inner energy naturally, Ilhwa suddenly stopped.

The energy pooling in her dantian dispersed like smoke, failing to fully settle.

“If my inner energy increases, it might arouse suspicion.”

She hadn’t yet learned Namgung’s inner energy cultivation method.

While she already knew the technique, having mastered it before, she couldn’t recklessly utilize it without officially learning it first.

“At least the three I met today in the Heavenly Tiger Hall would notice if my inner energy grew.”

No matter how urgent her situation was, she couldn’t break their trust before establishing it.

Until she officially learned it, she would have to hide her familiarity with Namgung’s martial arts.

“Still, I can’t neglect my training.”

Scratching her cheek in thought, Ilhwa rose from her seat.

If she couldn’t train her inner energy, she would at least practice external techniques.

When she stepped outside, she noticed an attendant standing about a jang (roughly 3 meters) away from the door.

Sensing her gaze, the attendant promptly approached.

“Is there anything you need?”

“Is there a training ground I can use?”

“There is a private training ground prepared for the distinguished guests of Cheongakwon. Shall I guide you there?”

Training alone in such a space would inevitably attract attention. Even if it was just external training, she preferred not to be observed.

“Not a private training ground. Are there other options?”

“As a guest of Cheongakwon, you are free to use any of the training grounds in the Outer Quarters. Shall I guide you to the nearest one?”

The Outer Quarters’ training grounds would likely be bustling with the Outer Guards’ drills.

Typically, clan martial arts were not shown to outsiders, but Cheongakwon’s distinguished guests were an exception.

Guests of Cheongakwon were often royalty or high-ranking elders from other clans or sects.

Allowing them to witness some of the clan’s training symbolized respect.

Of course, the Outer Guards, being at the lower end of the clan’s hierarchy, only practiced basic swordsmanship rather than the clan’s secret techniques, making such openness possible.

It was also rare for guests to actually choose crowded training grounds to observe.

However, for Ilhwa, blending in among trainees was ideal—a perfect environment for her purposes.

“It’s fine. I’ll go alone.”

After dismissing the attendant, Ilhwa left Cheongakwon on her own.

As expected, she could sense a presence tailing her.

Pretending to explore, Ilhwa wandered around the Outer Quarters before eventually heading toward a training ground.

When she showed her Cheongakwon guest pass, the gatekeeper alternated between glancing at her and the pass with wide eyes before hastily stepping aside to let her through.

By then, the sun had passed its zenith.

***

“She went to the training grounds?”

Namgung Yeom, the Outer Quarters Master, furrowed his brow upon hearing the report from a Cheongakwon attendant.

“You’re telling me she chose the training ground used by the swordsmen, not the private one?”

“Yes, sir. Although I informed her of the private training ground available within the guest quarters, she declined.”

“Hmm….”

Typically, people don’t want others to see them training, especially someone esteemed enough to be hosted in Cheongakwon.

Their martial skills are likely to be on a profound level, far beyond the ordinary.

Although she didn’t seem to possess deep inner strength when I met her in person, mastery isn’t something you can discern just by looking.

As a guest of Cheongakwon, there’s a good chance her skill level is higher than mine, making it difficult for me to gauge.

However, such individuals usually dislike exposing their martial arts or being disturbed during their training.

“And yet, she deliberately chose a crowded training ground?”

“Did anyone find the guest’s behavior odd?”

“Her attire was plain, and she appeared to be a child, so no one thought much of it.”

“That’s a relief.”

Ever since word got out that Cheongakwon had opened, people had been flooding in to inquire about the guest’s identity.

Not just Namgung’s second and third young masters, but even the Council of Elders and the family heads had persistently sent people to investigate.

Of course, no answers had been given.

“No one would ever guess that the guest of Cheongakwon is wandering around the Outer Quarters without any attendants.”

As Namgung Yeom’s thoughts drifted to the guest, he recalled the determined expression she had worn, and a quiet chuckle escaped his lips.

He, too, was curious about the guest’s identity.

But he wasn’t foolish enough to attempt to uncover it recklessly.

“By the way…”

The attendant suddenly began hesitating, fumbling over her words.