《Legacy of the Light - The Star of Birahng》


 The Crimson Star (1)

    A new monarch was ascending the throne of the fallen dynasty. Cheon Seong(ÌìêÉ) remained by his father''s bedside, bearing witness to his final moments. The air was thick with the scent of death, and Seong felt a profound sadness weigh down on him as he realized his beginning coincided with his father''s end.


    "The restoration of Wi(Ðl) falls to you," Cheon Yong(Ì윥) rasped, each labored breaths carrying the weight of his final decree. He was using the last of his strength. Seong listened with a heavy heart to his father''s ragged breaths.


    "You must now become the Guardian of the Azure Scripture(ìi•ø)*." Yong spoke again, his voice fading.


    "I know." Seong''s reply was curt, hiding the turmoil within. "Tell me something else," he pleaded, his voice a mere whisper.


    Though a grown man, he clung to his father like a child. Yong''s weary gaze settled on his son''s face, tracing the familiar lines of his eyes and nose - a mirror image of his own. Each time he saw his reflection in Seong, the weight of his sins pressed down on him with renewed force. He turned away, unable to meet his son''s gaze.


    "Leave me," he commanded, his voice strained.


    "Father," Seong pleaded.


    "Summon Ryang and Seon."


    Seong rose and moved towards the door. Outside, Myeonghyeon Ryang and his sister Seon, and Gyeongseon Ung and his son Joon, stood waiting anxiously. They bowed their heads together as Seong emerged from the room.


    "Young Guardian(С•øÖ÷)," they greeted, their voices a mixture of respect and apprehension.


    Seong acknowledged their greetings with a solemn nod. His gaze settled on Ryang as he inquired, "Is the High Emissary still absent from the mountain?"


    "I''ve sent word, but he has yet to..." Ryang replied.


    "I see. He''ll be back soon."


    Even with his head deeply bowed, Ryang sensed the somberness in Seong''s voice. He cautiously raised his head to meet Seong''s gaze.


    "How fares the Guardian?"


    "He nears his end," Seong replied.


    Though prepared for the news, Ryang felt a wave of grief. "Hasn''t he been frequently ill these past few months? Yet, he recovered each time."


    "Today feels different," Seong stated firmly.


    Ryang could not bring himself to ask further. He, too, was aware that Yong had refused any healers for days. Seong placed a hand on Ryang''s arm.


    "He asked for you and Seon. Go in." Seong urged.


    "But surely, Young Guardian, you should remain by his side." Ryang insisted.


    "He doesn''t want to see me anymore."


    Embarrassed by Seong''s words, Ryang lowered his gaze. The others in the room, sensing the tension, remained silent.


    "Go in," Seong urged.


    Bowing to Seong once more, Ryang entered the room, followed by his younger sister, Myeonghyeon Seon. Seong stood with his back turned, listening to the sound of the door closing.


    Ryang and Seon approached the bedside and bowed low before their ailing uncle. "Your Luminance," they greeted respectfully.


    Cheon Yong did not acknowledge their greeting. He already looked like a corpse. His gaunt cheeks were hollowed, casting deep shadows, and the whites of his eyes had long since yellowed. He beckoned Ryang and Seon closer with his gaze. Seon approached and sat beside him, gently taking Yong''s hand in hers beneath the blanket. Ryang felt a surge of resentment towards Yong, his uncle.


    "Must you be so cruel, even in your final moments?" Ryang asked.


    "Trying to act like a father now... does not absolve me of my sins," Yong rasped, each word a struggle.


    Ryang fell silent. Yong''s gaze drifted between Ryang and Seon, lingering on Seon''s face. Her features ¨C every line and curve ¨C mirrored those of his late wife, her aunt. A flicker of strength returned to his hand, gripping Seon''s.


    "Finally, I see her again. After all these years..." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.


    "My Guardian." Ryang acknowledged softly.


    "I have kept her waiting for too long." he whispered, tears tracing paths down his wrinkled cheeks.


    Ryang watched, his heart ached with pity at the sight of his uncle''s lingering regrets. The dead do not wait, he thought, swallowing the words before they could escape his lips.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Yong''s breath rattled in his throat. He gripped Seon''s hand one last time before his eyes fluttered closed and he breathed his last. A heavy silence fell over the room. Seon gently placed his hand upon his chest. Ryang and Seon retreated, sinking to their knees before the lifeless form.


    "May the Light of Sangjon guide your path. Rest, Your Luminance." Ryang whispered


    Ryang rose, his movements swift as he crossed the room and opened the door. Seong, sensing the urgency in his return, followed him back in. Yong lay lifeless, his eyes open and mouth agape. Seong approached his deceased father, gently closing his mouth and smoothing his eyelids shut. His face remained impassive. Having just bowed before his deceased uncle, Ryang bowed again, this time to his new lord.


    "Guardian of the Azure Scripture(ìi•øÖ÷)**," he acknowledged.


    Following her brother''s lead, Seon also bowed before Seong. However, Seong did not accept their obeisance.


    "Please, there''s no need for that."


    Seong''s reply was curt. Ryang''s eyes narrowed, his displeasure evident even from his bowed position. Seong addressed Seon.


    "Seon, please, close the door."


    Seon nodded silently and rose to close the door. Seong sat down and looked at his father''s body. Then, he calmly began to speak


    "I intend to disband Weichung Palace," he said quietly


    Ryang and Seon lifted their heads abruptly, their eyes wide with surprise. Ryang, shocked, questioned Seong''s decree.


    "What do you mean?"


    "It''s what I''ve been telling you all along, brother. We are..."


    "Just ghosts?"


    "Indeed," Seong said, his voice heavy with finality. "It''s time for us to fade away."


    Seong remained calm and aloof, his composure sending a chill through Ryang''s heart.


    "My Guardian," he began, "this is not a decision to be made lightly. Your time has come. Over two thousand soldiers have placed their faith in you."


    "Faith in what?" Seong countered, "is there any hope in the prophecy of the Crimson Star and the revival of Cheon-Wi(ÌìÐl, Sacared Wi)?"


    Ryang was momentarily speechless. But he quickly regained his composure and continued more firmly,


    "The revival of Wi can be achieved without relying on prophecy." Ryang insisted.


    "For what purpose?" Seong questioned.


    "The blood spilled by Dahn stains the land more than the rivers of Sunyahng(ÉÈê–)***. The flags of Dahn, soaked in the blood of our ancestors, should not fly over Sunyahng. Have I not told you this countless times?"


    "So you''re saying we should shed even more blood to tear down those blood-soaked flags?" Seong argued.


    "How can the weight of blood shed for a righteous cause be compared to the weight of blood spilled in senseless slaughter?" Ryang argued back.


    "No matter the weight of that blood, it cannot outweigh the life of a single living person," Seong declared resolutely.


    Ryang clenched his jaw, his lips forming a tight line. In his silence, Seong continued.


    "Think of those bound to Wicheong. Nearly two thousand people are sacrificing themselves for a futile hope. It''s been half a century since our dynasty fell. Dahn is becoming increasingly stable, and the people are at peace, while our people are denied a life of their own. I cannot demand such sacrifices any longer."


    Ryang found himself unable to counter Seong''s words. They held a truth he couldn''t deny. With a heavy heart, he spoke.


    "Their sacrifice is a choice they made themselves. We cannot force them to sacrifice, nor can we force them to abandon their cause. The revival of Cheon-Wi is not a dream solely nurtured by the royal family. We cannot unilaterally decide to forsake it."


    "If I do nothing when I should act, it''s the same as forcing them."


    "It is better to face this coercion than to see their hope turn to ashes. How will you bear the weight of their despair?"


    "Life will go on, and their despair will fade, even if it''s a slow process. This will be my first and final decree as the Guardian of the Azure Scripture. I will inform everyone once the funeral rites are concluded. Until then, keep this to yourselves."


    Despite Ryang''s earnest pleas, Seong remained silent, his back still turned. Ryang, determined, added one more remark.


    "My father gave his life for the royal family of Wi."


    His words pierced Seong''s heart. Though Ryang spoke of the royal family, his words were clearly directed at Seong himself. Seong closed his eyes, battling the memories of blood and violence that haunted him. His eyelids tightened as he fought to maintain his composure. Finally, he spoke.


    "I do not believe this path deviates from the teachings my uncle taught."


    "Guardian."


    "Can we please talk about this another time?"


    Exhaustion laced Seong''s voice. Ryang''s gaze shifted between the face of the deceased Yong and Seong''s rigid back. Despite a lifetime of cold indifference from his father, Seong had still suffered a loss. The sight of his slumped shoulders caused a pang of sympathy in Ryang''s heart. Unable to press further, he rose from his position.


    "I will return to Nahmgyo(ÄϘò) for a short while. I need to take care of some urgent matters in Nahmgyo before the funeral rites."


    Seong nodded slightly. Ryang bowed his head.


    "I will be back before midday tomorrow."


    Ryang nodded to his sister, and Seon rose as well. As the siblings exited, the Kyeongseon father and son entered the chamber. They too, upon witnessing their lord''s passing, prostrated themselves. They bowed deeply, showing respect for the deceased Yong and loyalty to Seong. Seong, his back still turned towards them, addressed in a calm voice.


    "High Commander."


    "Yes, Guardian."


    "The High Councilor(•øÁî)**** and Seon will be traveling to Nahmgyo shortly. Please assign a few men to escort them. The night is dark."


    "Of course. Joon, see to this." Kyeongseon Ung relayed the order to his son, who bowed curtly and hurried out. In the stillness of the room, Ung observed Seong''s composure, a flicker of concern in his eyes.


    "Are you alright, Guardian?"


    "He has been ailing for a long time. This was expected."


    "Even with preparation, death is not something one easily becomes accustomed to."


    Seong''s reply was tinged with sadness and regret.


    "Is it strange? That I do not grieve?"


    "Your father has passed away."


    "Indeed. He was my father. And I, his son."


    Seong''s response was brief, his voice devoid of emotion. Kyeongseon Ung fell silent. Beneath Seong''s closed eyelids, tears welled, hidden from view.


    *The Azure Scripture(ìi•ø) : The sacred text of the prophetic faith revered by the people of Wi. It is bound in a blue cover, hence the name "Azure Scripture."


    **The Guardian of the Azure Scripture(ìi•øÖ÷) : The protector of the Azure Scripture, a role traditionally held by the ruler of Wi. After the fall of Wi, the royal family lost their kingly title and became known solely as the Guardians of the Azure Scripture.


    ***Sunyahng(ÉÈê–) : The former capital of Wi and the current capital of Dahn.


    ****The High Councilor(•øÁî) : The chief administrator of Wicheong Palace, responsible for overseeing all administrative affairs and assisting the Guardian of the Azure Scripture.

 The Crimson Star (2)

    The Myeonghyeon siblings, accompanied by their servant Dara(¶àÈR), made their way to the entrance of Wicheong Palace(ÐlìiŒm). The path leading to the entrance was steep. Though called a palace, Wicheong was, in fact, a cave where the remnants of Wi sought refuge. The cave was located at the northeastern foot of Mount Shinsuk(ÉñËÞɽ), which towered over the heart of Birahng. Despite its narrow entrance, barely wide enough for a horse to pass and concealed by thick undergrowth, the cave opened into a vast network of tunnels, stretching endlessly, worthy of the title ''palace.'' Wide passageways branched out, forming large sections, while smaller tunnels were blocked off with earthen walls and wooden planks, creating a labyrinth of rooms and chambers. The labyrinthine structure was easy to get lost in for those unfamiliar with its twists and turns.


    Incense burned thickly in every room, dispelling the dampness and musty odor, warding off insects, while charcoal fires beneath the plankstone beds chased away the chill. The scent of burning incense and charcoal lingered in the air, but a constant draft from deep within the cave swept the smoke away, keeping the air clear.


    As they made their way towards the exit, torchlight flickered on the cave walls, casting dancing shadows, and the soldiers they encountered bowed respectfully at the sight of Ryang. He was not usually expressive, so the soldiers failed to notice the grief etched on his face. Ryang walked deep in thought, his mind preoccupied with the new Guardian''s shocking declaration. The new Guardian, Cheon Seong, intended to disband Wicheong Palace, the sanctuary where the remnants of the Wi royal family and their followers had survived for three generations, praying for Wi''s revival. The finality of Cheon Seong''s decision weighed heavily on Ryang, the young High Councilor, and he walked in silence, his shoulders slumped. Seon glanced back at him with concern.


    Outside the entrance, five soldiers and horses sent by Gyeongseon Joon awaited them, and as Ryang stepped forward, Dara called out to him, offering a thick coat. "My Lord, it''s still cold. Please wear this before we depart."


    Ryang''s gaze lingered on the coat, then drifted to Dara''s slender wrists and bare shoulders. He ignored the offered coat and walked past her. "I don''t need it. You wear it," he said.


    With a curt reply, Ryang mounted his horse, leaving Dara embarrassed as she withdrew the coat and followed. Once Seon had also mounted, Ryang took the lead, urging his horse forward.


    They journeyed through the night in silence. The early spring night on Birahng was chilly. Lost in thought, Ryang let his horse guide him through the darkness. Every so often, a soft sigh escaped his lips, dissipating into the night like fleeting wisps of smoke. Seon, riding beside him, felt her frustration grow with each exhaled breath.


    After they had ridden some distance from Wicheong Palace, Seon signaled for the soldiers to fall back and rode closer to Ryang.


    "How do the funeral rites proceed?" she asked.


    "I haven''t witnessed the rites myself," Ryang replied, his voice flat. "We''ll consult the records. But I''m sure the Ministry is handling everything. The High Emissary will be down from the summit soon, and we can offer our support then. They dislike interference."


    "Has the Young Guardian..."


    "The new Guardian you mean?" Ryang corrected.


    Seon quickly amended her words. "Has the Guardian ever mentioned disbanding before?"


    "Never," Ryang shook his head. "He''s expressed doubts before, but I thought it was just the pressure of leadership. I never thought he''d actually do this."


    "You really didn''t know? If you don''t know his thoughts, who does?"


    "I am the High Councilor, not a soothsayer."


    "As the High Councilor, you should have known."


    A hint of mockery in Seon''s voice made Ryang cast her a sharp glance. Knowing Ryang would remain silent unless provoked, Seon just smirked and continued, "He may have only just announced the disbandment, but he''s been neglecting Wicheong for a while now. You''ve been doing all the work..."


    "Be quiet."


    "He must be certain of his decision?"


    "He''s not one to make decisions lightly."


    "He''s always been indecisive," Seon scoffed. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    "Seon," Ryang warned, his voice growing firmer. Unlike Ryang, who was troubled by Seong''s decree, Seon felt liberated.


    "Maybe this is a good thing. We can finally focus on ourselves instead of wasting our efforts on a lost cause. Like the Young Guardian, no, the Guardian said, let''s just leave and go to Sung, Soyeol, or wherever we want."


    "Seon!" Ryang, mindful of the soldiers trailing behind, tried to silence Seon, but her grievances continued to spill forth, each word laced with a dangerous edge.


    "Our loyalty, our sacrifices, all for nothing,¡± Seon said bitterly. ¡°Our family''s exile from Sunyahng, our father''s death... It was all the fault of the royal family."


    Ryang finally reined in his horse. "Even in front of Dara and me,¡± Ryang said, his voice low and sharp as he reprimanded Seon. ¡°you must choose your words carefully."


    Dara''s eyes darted nervously between them. While they bickered often, like any siblings, today''s dispute felt different, heavier. Seon, however, was undeterred by Ryang''s rebuke.


    "He could have saved our father," she accused.


    "How is that the Guardian''s fault?!"


    "Then whose fault is it? Was it Father''s, for believing in that... that incompetent fool?!"


    "Seon, enough!" Ryang''s voice rose as Seon dared to bring up their father''s death.


    Seon bristled at his tone. Though only six years her senior, Ryang often assumed a paternal role, chastising and lecturing her. But he rarely raised his voice. Seon recognized the fury simmering beneath his calm facade. She swallowed the bitter words that threatened to spill from her lips, forcing her voice to remain steady.


    "You are just as frustrated, brother."


    Seon paused, catching her breath. Her throat tightened with emotion. ¡°So, what now?¡± she asked.


    "We''ll try to persuade him. Maybe the High Emissary can help."


    "The High Emissary Divine siding with you?" Seon scoffed.


    "He may be enigmatic, but his loyalty is unwavering. He won''t let the Azure Scripture be abandoned."


    "So, you do care about the fate of the Azure Scripture after all," Seon let out a hollow laugh.


    "Why are you being so difficult today?!" Ryang''s voice rose again. Seeing no end to their argument, Dara discreetly signaled for the soldiers to retreat further. Ryang glared at Seon, but she met his gaze without flinching.


    "Why cling to the royal family? Even the Guardian has given up! Don''t you care about our house?"


    "Do you even understand what our house represents?" Ryang asked.


    "Just say what you want to say."


    "The name Myeonghyeon carries weight. As Ryang and Seon of House Myeonghyeon, we have a duty to uphold its honor."


    "The weight of our name?¡±  Seon scoffed. ¡°We''ve already lost our name trying to uphold it. We''re not a noble house of loyalists anymore. We''re nothing more than backwater merchants with dirty secrets."


    It was a glory neither she, nor her father, nor her grandfather had ever experienced. Even her father''s memories of his childhood in Sunyahng were distant, far removed from the time when House Myeonghyeon held the King¡¯s trust. But the truth was, they had been abandoned long before the fall of Wi. Her grandfather''s loyalty, his decision to rescue the surviving prince and seek refuge in Birahng amidst the chaos of rebellion, now seemed nothing more than foolish sentimentality. Seon''s grip on the reins tightened.


    "We''ve endured enough. It''s time to focus on our own survival."


    "What do you believe is the true essence of House Myeonghyeon?" Ryang asked.


    "What kind of question is that?"


    "We are not merchants at heart. Our place is not here in Birahng, nor in Sung or Soyeol."


    "Brother..."


    "We will return to Sunyahng."


    Ryang''s voice resonated with conviction, but Seon''s laughter cut through his words, "When? How? You''re usually so practical, why are you being so obtuse now? Dahn has nearly two hundred thousand soldiers, and we barely have two thousand. Do you honestly believe we can win a war against them? We''re hiding here, on this tiny island, even concealing our precious names! What good is the essence of House Myeonghyeon in this situation?"


    Before Ryang could respond, Seon continued her tirade. "It would be a hundred times faster to admit our grandfather''s foolishness and beg for the King of Dahn''s forgiveness than to try and reclaim Sunyahng with that weakling Guardian. If returning to Sunyahng is so important to you."


    "Don''t even speak of such impossibilities," Ryang warned, glaring at Seon.


    "Your delusions are the true impossibility," Seon scoffed.


    "If we cannot achieve it, then our descendants will," Ryang declared. "We will fight for their future. That was our grandfather''s will, and our father''s."


    Seon continued her mockery. "Such a devoted son. Perhaps you should have listened to him while he was alive."


    "One more word..." As Ryang''s voice rose again, Dara rushed forward, interrupting them.


    "My Lord! My Lady!"


    "What''s the matter?" Ryang turned towards Dara, alarmed by her tone. Dara''s dark eyes, fixed on the night sky, reflected a crimson glow. Ryang''s gaze quickly followed hers. In the southern sky, a red star blazed, leaving a trail of shimmering light. A red star, burning bright in the night sky. Ryang knew instantly what it meant.


    "We must return." He urged Seon and Dara, frozen in shock, to action. "Turn back! Now!"


    Ryang wrenched the reins, turning his horse sharply. His white steed reared, then galloped into the night. Seon and Dara followed, their horses'' silver tails streaming behind them in the darkness. The soldiers struggled to keep up.

 The Crimson Star (3)

    The moonlit sea of Birahng shimmered beneath a vast expanse of inky sky, studded with countless stars. Cheon Hwan(Ì쟨) narrowed his eyes, scanning the horizon where the moonlight danced upon the waves. It wasn''t long before he spotted the silhouette of a merchant vessel, its dark hull cutting through the shimmering expanse. Oars protruded from its sides, their rhythmic strokes propelling it forward. Jang''gyeong Yoon approached.


    "It seems they intend to flee," Yoon remarked


    "It''s futile," Hwan said with sneer. "No ship is faster than the Black Wings."


    Yoon''s eyes narrowed as he assessed the size of the distant vessel. It was a sizeable merchant ship, a tempting prize. "It must be the Namgyo merchant vessel," he said thoughtfully.


    "None other would possess such a vessel," Hwan agreed. "Prepare the oars. Increase our speed."


    "Yes, Guardian," Yoon acknowledged.


    Oars emerged from the Black Wings'' hull, their blades slicing through the water with increasing speed. Even with minimal effort, the Black Wings easily gained on the merchant vessel. The distant ship drew closer, the faces of its crew now discernible. Arrows began to fly between the two ships, a deadly exchange in the moonlit night. Undeterred by the incoming volley, the Black Wings'' crew launched grappling hooks, pulling the merchant vessel closer. Each time the merchant sailors attempted to raise the boarding planks, a hail of arrows forced them back. With escape no longer an option, they drew their weapons, steeling themselves for a fight. The Black Wings'' warriors swarmed across the boarding planks, and a fierce battle erupted.


    The merchants, ill-prepared for such an assault, quickly crumbled. Hwan, his gaze sweeping across the deck, noticed a knot of fierce resistance. Amidst the chaos, a few figures fought back with surprising ferocity. Their blades flashed against the Black Wings'' warriors. A few of Hwan''s men fell. Even Yirahng, nimble as she was, struggled against a skilled mercenary.


    "Soyeol mercenaries," Yoon reported, his voice tight with frustration. "We''ve already lost two men, five are injured."


    "Those mercenaries are nothing special," Hwan said dismissively, annoyed by the unexpected resistance.


    "None of you are impressive."


    He finished his assessment and strode across the boarding planks, joining the fray. The mercenaries recognized their primary target, abandoning their current opponents to converge on Cheon Hwan. The warrior who had been battling Yirahng also joined the attack, his blade aimed at the black-clad figure.


    Hwan drew his sword. The first two assailants fell before they could even clash blades with him, their waists and ankles sliced through. The next attacker swung his swords down towards Hwan''s head, but he parried the blow, using the flat of his blade to deflect the attack. He then exploited the opening, his sword flashing forward to strike the attacker''s collarbone.


    Hwan waited, his blade poised, as his enemies surged forward, their attacks reaching a fever pitch. Then, just as their momentum waned, he struck. He met each assailant with calculated precision, deflecting their blows and exploiting their vulnerabilities. His sword moved with a deceptive lightness, slicing through the air with deadly grace. He thrust, he parried, he riposted, each movement a blur of deadly efficiency. He reveled in the feel of his blade against flesh, the subtle give of muscle and bone as he twisted his weapon deeper. With chilling ease, he cut down five Soyeol mercenaries, their lifeblood staining the deck.


    They were herded to a corner of the deck, their faces pale with terror. Some, driven to desperate measures by their fear, leaped into the churning sea. Swords and spears found their marks with ruthless efficiency. Blood pooled on the deck, seeping between the planks and dripping into the cabins below. While one group finished off the remaining merchants, another ransacked the ship''s hold. Hwan leaned against the railing, watching the carnage unfold, waiting for the chaos to subside.


    "When silence finally returned, broken only by the lapping of waves against the hull, Keumpyeong Hui(½ðƽϲ) emerged from below deck.


    "Guardian, the ship has been secured," Hui reported.


    "Transfer the valuables to the Black Wings," Hwan commanded. "Leave the rest."


    "Yes, Guardian."


    Just as Hui turned to leave, the faint cry of a baby echoed from below deck. The sound, though muffled, was unmistakable, drawing confused glances from the assembled men. Hwan frowned.


    "Why is there a babe crying on a merchant ship?" he asked.


    "I''ll investigate," Hui replied, hurrying back below deck with a handful of torch-bearing men.


    They found the infant nestled amongst a pile of cargo, swaddled in cloth. It appeared to be no older than a year. There were no women among the crew, so Hui assumed the child belonged to one of the merchants. He returned to the deck, cradling the infant in his arms, and presented it to Hwan.


    "The father must have hidden the child within the cargo," he explained.


    Hwan''s brow furrowed. Hui, sensing his displeasure, cautiously asked, "What are your orders, Guardian? Should we take it ashore...?"This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Kill it," Hwan commanded.


    Hui''s face paled. "Guardian?"


    "If you cannot bring yourself to stab it, then throw it overboard. We do not leave survivors. Death is the only mercy you can offer."


    "But Guardian, you have spared Dahrae''s father," Hui said pleadingly.


    "He is useful," Hwan replied dismissively.


    Keumpyeong Hui stood paralyzed, his mouth agape. Without hesitation, Hwan drew his dagger and swiftly ended the infant''s life. The delicate neck, barely able to support the weight of its tiny head, was more than halfway severed with a single stroke. The child, its cries silenced before they could even begin, coughed up a splatter of blood and died. Keumpyeong Hui crumpled to the deck, the lifeless infant still clutched in his arms. His clothes were stained with the child''s warm blood.


    "Such weakness," Hwan sneered, turning away from the gruesome scene.


    Jang''gyeong Yoon approached the stunned Keumpyeong Hui. "Dispose of it. Now. And don''t just sit there like an idiot.¡±


    Hui, his face ashen, slowly got to his feet. With his eyes squeezed shut, he dropped the tiny body into the dark water. The child disappeared beneath the waves, leaving barely a ripple.


    "What about the ship, Guardian?" Yoon asked. "We could sell it for a good price.


    "Sink it," Hwan replied dismissively. "We have no need for such trivial gains."


    "But Guardian, it''s a valuable ship," Yoon insisted. "Who knows when such an opportunity will arise again? We could sell it in Soyeol"


    Hwan was starting to get annoyed. He loathed dealing with such mundane matters, but Yoon''s persistence was clear. With a resigned nod, he granted his permission.


    "Do as you see fit," Hwan said.


    "Yes, Guardian," Yoon said, bowing deeply.


    Hwan turned and headed back towards the Black Wings. Yirahng, however, was quick to intercept him, her face alight with a triumphant grin. He looked down at her, his expression unreadable. She stepped closer, her blood-stained body pressing against his, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist.


    "Let''s go to the cabin," she said seductively, her eyes sparkling. Her right eye, a crimson hue that shimmered in the moonlight, burned with a playful lust.


    Hwan said with a smile. "Now?"


    "Yes, now," Yirahng insisted. "Now is perfect."


    Hwan just chuckled. Yirahng, sensing his acquiescence, pulled him towards the cabin, their footsteps echoing on the deck.


    Yirahng closed the cabin door and, with a swift motion, pushed Hwan onto the bed. His clothes fell open, revealing skin crisscrossed with scars, gleaming in the flickering candlelight. Yirahng''s own clothes seemed to melt away, her nakedness a source of pride rather than shame. She stood unashamed, her body a tapestry of scars contrasting against her smooth, sun-kissed skin. Hwan''s lips found those scars, tracing their paths with a hungry urgency. The taste of salt lingered on her skin. Yirahng, vibrant and untamed, moved with a restless energy, her body a wave crashing against his. She arched her back, a moan escaping her lips as pleasure coursed through her. Hwan flipped her over, pinning her beneath his weight. Yirahng''s heat intensified as Hwan explored her body, his touch leaving a trail of fire. His hand tightened around her throat, his grip possessive. Yirahng''s eyes fluttered, her nails raking across his cheek, leaving red marks. He released her neck, pulling her close, their bodies entwined. Her cries echoed through the cabin as he collapsed on top of her.


    As his breathing slowed, Hwan touched the scratches on his cheek, the blood already beginning to dry.


    "Careful with those claws," he murmured, his voice rough against her neck.


    "I thought you were going to kill me," Yirahng replied teasingly.


    "You know I wouldn''t," he chuckled.


    He propped himself up on one elbow, his hand reaching out to stroke her hair. The tangled mess of black and white strands, damp with sweat and seawater, resisted his touch. He tugged at a knot, pulling her head back. As he leaned in for a kiss, Yirahng twisted away, rolling out of his reach. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, her voice a low murmur against his skin.


    "Let''s go above deck," she whispered.


    "We just came down," he replied, his voice wearily.


    "I want to feel the night air," she murmured.


    "Why are you so energetic tonight?"


    Yirahng nuzzled against his back, her cheek pressed against his damp skin. "Let''s go," she urged.


    Hwan sighed and pulled on his clothes. Yirahng, already dressed, bounded up the stairs. He followed more slowly. Yirahng leaned against the railing, her gaze fixed on the churning water below.


    "I want to swim," she said.


    Hwan joined her at the railing. "You would drown in these waters at night."


    "Everyone dies eventually," Yirahng replied, her tone oddly serene for someone so young and full of life.


    He grasped her chin, making her meet his gaze. "Not you. Not before me."


    Yirahng smiled playfully. "That''s a foolish wish, isn''t it?"


    He smiled back, but didn''t reply. Yirahng, sensing his reluctance to discuss the matter further, changed the subject.


    "Aren''t you worried about your father? Dahrae sent a new message."


    "He''s always been a sickly old man," he said indifferently.


    "Don''t you want to see him before he dies?"


    Hwan let out a harsh laugh. "Return to Wicheong Palace?" he said with a sneer. "You think I did all this to crawl back to that wretched cave?"


    "But you''re the Guardian, the rightful king," Yirahng argued. "Do you intend to spend your life at sea?"


    "No," he admitted. "But Wicheong Palace is no place for a king. It''s a rat''s nest."


    His voice was filled with bitterness. Yirahng pulled open his robe, pressing her face against his bare skin. She wrapped her arms around him, her gaze lifting towards the star-studded sky. A red star blazed in the distance, its light growing brighter, eclipsing the others. Yirahng''s eyes widened.


    "Look," she whispered, her voice awestruck. "That star is strange."


    "What star?" Hwan said dismissively. "Are you stargazing now?"


    "Yes, but I''ve found something... unusual."


    He felt a chill. He pushed Yirahng away and looked up. The crimson star blazed ominously, casting a shadow over the deck. The playful atmosphere vanished. The other crew members murmured nervously. Hwan''s heart pounded.


    "Summon Jang''gyeong Yoon," he ordered, his voice sharp with urgency.


    His crew, distracted by the phenomenon, didn''t hear him. Hwan raised his voice.


    "Fetch Yoon!"

 The Crimson Star (4)

    Princess Kyeong''ui(¾´Áx), accompanied by her Royal Attendant(Ó°¹Ù), Hongyoo(ºéžg), slipped unnoticed through the West Gate of the palace. She led the way, navigating the labyrinthine alleyways of Sunyahng with a practiced ease. The narrow passages twisted and turned, leading them deeper into the city''s shadowed heart. Finally, they arrived at a familiar, dilapidated dwelling. Kyeong''ui pushed open the weathered door, stepping into the darkness within. Hongyoo followed, his eyes scanning their surroundings before he closed the door firmly behind them.


    Inside the abandoned house, dust motes danced in the pale moonlight filtering through the cracks in the boarded-up windows. Kyeong''ui expertly helped Hongyoo out of his clothes. He pulled her close, his lips tracing a path along her neck as he pressed her against the wall. Kyeong''ui surrendered to the intoxicating sensations, her mind a haze of pleasure. Hongyoo''s touch ignited a fire within her, a forbidden pleasure she couldn''t experience within the stifling confines of the palace. He teased and tempted, pushing her senses to their limits. Finally, she succumbed, pulling him down onto the makeshift bed, their bodies entwined.


    Lost in their passion, they were oblivious to the faint commotion that filtered through the silence from outside. Kyeong''ui stilled, her breath catching in her throat.


    "Wait," she whispered.


    "What is it?" Hongyoo asked. He sat up, pulling her close.


    She clung to him, her ears straining to decipher the sounds beyond the walls. "What''s that noise?"


    The commotion grew louder. "Stay here," Hongyoo instructed, "I''ll investigate."


    He gently pushed her aside and scrambled to dress. As he slipped out the door, Kyeong''ui pulled a garment around her. She waited, her heart pounding. Hongyoo returned a few moments later, his breath coming in ragged gasps.


    "Your Highness," he urged, "get dressed. We must return to the palace now."


    "What''s happening?" Kyeong''ui demanded.


    "You''ll see when we get outside. Hurry!"


    His urgency was unmistakable. Kyeong''ui quickly dressed. As they emerged from the dilapidated dwelling, Hongyoo pointed towards the southern sky. Her eyes widened, reflecting the crimson glow that painted the horizon. Without a word, they ran towards the palace.


    ©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤


    Baekyang Seoh(°×—îÐì), the Chief Royal Secretary, hurried through the palace gates, his breath catching in his throat as he approached the South Gate. He flashed his identification to the guards, who, recognizing the urgency, granted him immediate entry. He made a brief stop at the Observatory, where the astronomers worked, before continuing his breathless dash to the king''s chambers. Only when he reached the door did he pause to straighten his disheveled clothes. His uneven breaths preceded him as he announced his presence.


    "Your Majesty, it is I, Baekyang Seoh, your Chief Royal Secretary."


    "Enter," the king commanded.


    The doors swung open, and Baek Yangseo stepped inside, bowing low before the king. The king didn''t inquire about his unexpected return, looking at him with disapproval.


    "You should have returned sooner," the king stated.


    "My apologies, Your Majesty," Seoh replied.


    "What is the extent of the unrest?" the king pressed.


    The king''s question referred to the crimson star that had suddenly appeared in the southern sky above Sunyahng. Seoh, who had witnessed this ominous sight on his way home, had immediately rushed back to the palace. He calmly relayed what he had observed.


    "Despite the late hour, people of all ages have gathered in the streets and on rooftops," Seoh reported. "Some have formed crowds. Even the night patrol seems to be caught up in the commotion. It appears the unrest will not subside until the star fades."


    "Such discipline among my troops," the king said sarcastically.


    "Your Majesty," Baekyang Seoh began, "the number of people is far too great to disperse by force. And this event... it is so extraordinary that even the patrol guards..."


    The king cut him off. "And such negligence of the Royal Chief Secretary."


    The king glared at Seoh, but Seoh didn''t back down.


    "Such harsh measures against the people will only fuel their unrest, Your Majesty."


    "Unrest is a word for commoners," the king said with disdain. "The night patrol are soldiers under my command. Punish those who failed in their duty."


    "Yes, Your Majesty," Seoh said, reluctantly bowing his head.


    "Is there more?" the king asked.


    "Many still cling to the beliefs of the Azure Scripture," Baek Yangseo explained. "Rumors of a ''prophesied star'' are spreading among the people. Some even speak of... the revival of Wi."


    He glanced up, then quickly averted his gaze, sensing the king''s growing fury.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    "It is your duty, and that of the other officials," the king warned, "to quell such foolish rumors."


    "Your orders will be carried out, Your Majesty."


    "Ensure those imbeciles in court refrain from uttering such nonsense tomorrow," the king commanded.


    "I will inform the ministers accordingly."


    "Is there more?" the king asked again.


    "On my way here, I stopped by the Royal Observatory," Seoh reported. "The astronomers believe that, based on the trajectory of the meteor and the alignment of the stars, it appears to be heading towards Birahng."


    "Absurd," the king said with a scoff.


    "Birahng is considered a sacred land by the Wi people," Seoh added.


    "I¡¯m aware," the king replied.


    The king closed his eyes, his brow furrowed in contemplation. The situation was unsettling, the appearance of the crimson star an ill omen. He had always confronted his enemies head-on, their forces tangible, their strategies predictable. But this time, the enemy was different. This enemy was either formless or innumerable. He opened his eyes and looked at Baekyang Seoh.


    "Silence the astronomers," he commanded. "The last thing we need is rumors of a star pointing towards Birahng adding to the unrest."


    "It has been done, Your Majesty," Seoh replied.


    The king fell silent once more, pondering. The silence stretched, and Seoh shifted nervously.


    "Your Majesty," he finally suggested, "we must formulate a response. The Three Supreme Councilors and the heads of the Seven Boards will soon arrive."


    "What response?" the king said with irritation. "Should we announce to the court that this star is a grave omen and incite panic? Seal the palace gates. No one is to be granted an audience because of this celestial phenomenon."


    "But Your Majesty, this is a crisis," Seoh said urgently. "On what grounds can we deny the high officials an audience?"


    "It is not a crisis," the king declared. "Do not exaggerate the situation. If anyone tries to exploit this star to create a crisis, they are traitors."


    "As you wish, Your Majesty."


    Seoh paused, observing the king''s expression, then continued. "Still, Your Majesty, we must formulate a response. It need not be a public declaration."


    "Who is currently stationed on Birahng?" the king asked.


    "Juyeong Hyo is the governor of Hyangdo*."


    "Anyone else?"


    "I believe Moonseong Yool, the second son of House Moonseong, is there on a sanctioned excursion."


    "One is a fool, and the other a wastrel," the king scoffed, his irritation growing.


    The report did little to ease his concerns. He couldn''t very well convene a formal court session in the main hall of Yeonghwi Palace** over this ambiguous matter, especially one concerning the Azure Scripture, a text he and his predescessor had denounced and suppressed. He remained silent. Trustworthy individuals within the palace were few and far between.


    "Summon the Crown Prince and the other two," he finally commanded.


    "The Crown Prince and his siblings, Your Majesty?" Seoh asked.


    "Didn''t you say a response need not be a public declaration?" the king said impatiently. "Stop with the questions and carry out my orders. This matter is already a headache."


    "As you wish, Your Majesty."


    Seoh bowed and retreated. He sent palace staffs  to the younger prince and princess, and he went to the East Palace, the residence of Crown Prince Kyeongshin(¾´³¿), the eldest of the royal children. Kyeongshin, dressed in light clothes as he was about to retire for the night, came out to greet him. Seoh bowed deeply.


    "Your Royal Highness," he addressed.


    Kyeongshin, noticing the urgency in Seoh''s demeanor, spoke first. "It seems you''ve returned long after the appointed hour for dismissal."


    "Matters of state are not bound by time, Your Highness," Seoh replied. "His Majesty urgently requests your presence."


    Kyeongshin glanced at the southern sky. "It must be because of that star. But why summon me? Shouldn''t he call for the astronomers or the ministers?"


    "He has summoned Prince Kyeongyul and Princess Kyeong''ui as well."


    "My siblings?" Kyeongshin''s brow furrowed in surprise.


    "Please prepare yourself and accompany me," Seoh urged. "His Majesty awaits."


    "I shall be ready shortly."


    Kyeongshin dressed and followed Seoh to the king.


    ©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤


    Kyeong''ui and Hongyoo arrived just as a palace staff from the main hall approached. Kyeong''ui had barely finished changing when the staff''s voice called out from beyond the door. Stepping outside, they found the familiar one bowing before them.


    "Your Highness," she addressed Kyeong''ui, "His Majesty urgently requests your presence."


    Kyeong''ui and Hongyoo were still catching their breath, their foreheads damp with sweat from their hurried return. The staff seemed to notice their disheveled appearance, his eyes widening slightly. Kyeong''ui, feigning composure, replied nonchalantly, "Me?"


    "He has also summoned the Crown Prince and Prince Kyeongyul," the staff added.


    Kyeong''ui assessed the situation. It was long past the hour when the lights in the main hall were usually extinguished. The reason for her hasty return to the palace and the reason for her father''s sleeplessness were undoubtedly connected.


    But why summon his children instead of officials?


    Kyeong''ui recalled her father''s stern expression, the deep furrow in his brow. A silent exchange passed between her and Hongyoo.


    "I shall be ready shortly," Kyeong''ui informed the staff.


    She retreated back into her chambers and changed into more formal attire. Hongyoo stood silently as she adjusted her clothes. As Kyeong''ui turned to leave, Hongyoo caught her arm.


    "Your Highness."


    "What is it?"


    Hongyoo''s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "If you seize your chance tonight, you must not falter."


    "You were the one who advised caution," Kyeong''ui said, frowning.


    "If there''s only one chance," Hongyoo replied, his gaze intense, "it''s best to conserve your strength. I believe tonight is that chance."


    Kyeong''ui''s eyes narrowed. Hongyoo nodded. Without another word, Kyeong''ui stepped out of her chambers.


    When they arrived at the main hall, they found Kyeongyul already waiting. As Kyeong''ui was about to greet him, they heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching. Crown Prince Kyeongshin, accompanied by the Chief Royal Secretary, appeared. The two younger siblings bowed in greeting. Kyeongshin, barely acknowledging their presence, spoke curtly.


    "Let¡¯s go in. Father awaits."


    Kyeongshin stopped before the door and announced their arrival. "Father," he called out, "it is I, Kyeongshin. Kyeongyul and Kyeong''ui have arrived."


    "Enter," the king''s voice called out from inside, and the doors to his chambers swung open.


    *Hyangdo : A fortress located in the northwest of Birahng.


    **Yeonghwi Palace : The main palace of Dahn

 The Crimson Star (5)

    The royal children entered one by one, bowing before their father. The king addressed Kyeongshin first, his eldest son, who had recently become a father himself.


    "Are you learning the ways of fatherhood?" he asked.


    Kyeongshin, still unaccustomed to the title, said with a sheepish smile. "Being a son is challenging enough. Being a father seems even more daunting."


    "I hear your son is thriving," the king continued. "And your wife? Is she recovering well?"


    Even a father was still a son in his father''s presence, and a hint of concern lingered in the king¡¯s eyes.


    "She remains bedridden," Kyeongshin replied, "but I¡¯m looking after her."


    "She has no one else to rely on within the palace walls," the king reminded him. "Make sure she has everything she needs."


    "Yes, Father."


    The king''s gaze shifted to Kyeongyul and Kyeong''ui. Kyeongyul, recently married, was also expecting his first child. Even Kyeong''ui, the youngest, had come of age this year. The king felt a surge of pride as he looked upon his grown children. His gaze lingered on Kyeong''ui, his favorite. It was no secret within the palace that the king held a special affection for his third daughter. The court men often remarked on their striking resemblance, and the king couldn''t help but marvel at his daughter''s beauty, a reflection of his own features, yet uniquely her own.


    But there was no time for such sentimental thought. The king''s expression hardened, his voice grave as he addressed his children.


    "You''ve all seen the star, heard the unrest. You know why I''ve summoned you."


    "Is it because of the star, Father?" Kyeongshin asked cautiously.


    "Indeed," the king confirmed. Despite the late hour, his eyes were sharp, alert, the weariness of the day forgotten.


    Kyeongshin, however, seemed oblivious to his father''s concerns. "While this star does resemble the descriptions in the wicked scripture," he said skeptically, "is it truly a matter of such urgency that you summon us at this late hour? Celestial phenomena are not uncommon. It was blind faith in prophecy that led to Wi''s downfall."


    The king''s gaze hardened. Kyeongshin, realizing his misstep, quickly lowered his head.


    "The wicked scripture may be filled with absurdities," the king stated with suppressed anger, "but we cannot ignore the unrest it stirs among the people. We must investigate, quell any potential uprising. A third of our population once lived under Wi rule. Do you think they have forgotten their old beliefs?"


    "No, Father."


    "When my grandfather purged the Wi royal family, one prince disappeared. We have no information regarding his fate. If those remnants, fueled by this celestial event and these foolish rumors, incite a rebellion, do you have the competence to put it down?"


    "My thoughts were wrong, Father."


    Kyeongshin''s submission did little to appease the king''s anger. "Why do you think Wi, a kingdom full of internal conflict, managed to endure for a thousand years?"


    "Because they held people¡¯s faith," Kyeongshin replied.


    "Never underestimate the power of faith," the king warned.


    Kyeongshin bowed his head in acknowledgment.


    "This incident demands a response," the king continued. "The court will address the unrest. But this star itself cannot be discussed openly. I trust you understand why."


    Silence filled the room. Kyeongshin, chastised by his father''s earlier rebuke, remained silent. Kyeongyul, always reticent, offered no opinion. Kyeong''ui, sensing the tension, carefully ventured, "Are you concerned about those among the officials who still cling to the Azure Scripture?"


    The king smiled faintly. "That is half the reason," he replied, his gaze sweeping over his daughter. "What is the other?"


    "If the court reacts too hastily," Kyeong''ui said carefully, "the people will only see greater significance in this celestial event."


    The king''s smile widened, a hint of pride in his eyes. Kyeongshin bristled at his father''s approval, his gaze fixed on Kyeong''ui with open resentment. Her answer was nothing extraordinary, yet their father''s blatant favoritism, though a familiar sight, still stung. The king, ignoring his eldest son''s displeasure, continued.


    "The astronomers believe the star points towards Birahng. I need one of you to investigate and quell the unrest."


    His gaze settled on Kyeongshin, but he hesitated. "I cannot be seen venturing to Birahng to investigate the superstitions of a fallen kingdom, Father."If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    The king''s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "I am the king. The one ordering this investigation."


    "That''s not what I meant..." Kyeongshin said, stammering.


    "It is precisely what you meant," the king said. "Even if you volunteered, I wouldn''t entrust you with this task. This is not a matter to be mishandled by someone who lacks the necessary weight."


    "Father..."


    "Enough," the king said sharply, silencing his son''s protests.


    A heavy silence settled over the room. Kyeongshin, stung by the rebuke in front of his siblings, seethed silently. Kyeongyul, ever cautious, offered a tentative suggestion.


    "Father, perhaps it would be wiser to send a trusted official, someone well-versed in the Azure Scripture. While we are eager to serve, our understanding of such matters is... limited."


    The king''s frown deepened. Both his sons had disappointed him, Kyeongshin with his arrogance, Kyeongyul with his timidity.


    Kyeong''ui''s eyes darted between her father and brothers, her heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. She had always been favored by her father, but opportunities to prove herself were rare. Kyeongshin, as the heir apparent, had always monopolized the king''s attention, a constant reminder of her limitations as the younger sibling. This was her chance, a chance she couldn''t afford to miss.


    "Father," she spoke, her voice clear and steady, breaking the tense silence.


    The king looked at her.


    "I will go," she said, meeting his gaze. "I will investigate this matter and quell the unrest in our kingdom."


    Kyeong''ui''s voice was calm, her gaze steady. The king, as if anticipating her offer, seemed unsurprised by her eagerness. It was Kyeongshin who reacted with alarm.


    "This is not your place to interfere," he interjected sharply. He turned to his father. "Father, send the Chief Royal Secretary instead. He is the most trustworthy."


    "Did you not hear my command?" the king said, "No high official will leave the capital for this task."


    Kyeongshin pressed on. "If this matter is truly so urgent, then sending Kyeong''ui is unwise. She knows nothing of governance."


    "This is not a matter of governance, but of protecting our kingdom," the king said with anger. "The very duty you shirked. Do you regret your earlier defiance?"


    "Father!"


    "Enough." The king''s voice silenced his eldest son''s protests. He turned his attention back to Kyeong''ui, who had lowered her head respectfully during the exchange.


    "Before I decide," the king began. "I have a question for you."


    Kyeong''ui lifted her head, her dark eyes sparkling in the candlelight.


    "You have never left Sunyahng," the king continued. "You have no experience in matters of state. Convince me why I should entrust you with this task."


    Kyeong''ui replied calmly, suppressing her nervousness, "Forgive my boldness, Father, but I have read the Azure Scripture, multiple times."


    The king chuckled. "Did you think I was unaware?"


    "What?" Kyeong''ui''s eyes widened in surprise.


    "I was meaning to summon you to inquire about your secret visits to the Court Library, retrieving the Azure Scripture from its hidden depths."


    A hint of amusement flickered in the king''s eyes, but his voice remained cold. Kyeong''ui, flustered, straightened her posture and shook her head.


    "I didn''t only read the Azure Scripture in the Court Library," she explained.


    The king remained silent. Kyeong''ui searched for a more convincing excuse, a way to deflect her father''s suspicion.


    "I sought to understand the people''s faith," she offered.


    "Understanding the people is the Crown Prince''s duty, not yours," the king said, his voice firm yet gentle.


    Kyeong''ui flinched, but she didn¡¯t back down. "As a royal, I believe it is my duty to contribute to the preservation of our Throne and Intellect*, even in a small way."


    "And how do you intend to contribute to the well-being of Dahn?" the king said with a skeptical tone


    "By utilizing my knowledge of the Azure Scripture," Kyeong''ui replied, "I can be of service in this time of need."


    The king''s lips curled into a subtle smile. Kyeong''ui''s answer, though clever, was clearly an evasion. He continued.


    "I doubt your motives were so noble," he remarked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.


    Kyeong''ui felt uncomfortable under his gaze. She couldn''t bear to appear any smaller in her father''s eyes. With a resigned sigh, she confessed the truth.


    "I read it because it was... interesting," she admitted sheepishly. "Not that I believe in it, of course."


    The king''s smile vanished. "That is most certainly not acceptable. Though I suppose those tales are more entertaining than the endless texts on philosophy and governance." He paused, his gaze hardening. "But your knowledge of the Azure Scripture doesn''t guarantee your success in this matter."


    Kyeong''ui weighed her options carefully. Her father''s words were a trap, a test of her loyalty and ambition.


    If you seize your chance tonight, you must not falter.


    Hongyu''s advice echoed in her mind, a chilling premonition. How had he known? It didn''t matter. She wouldn''t let this chance slip away, even if it meant walking into a carefully laid trap.


    "I lack the necessary knowledge and experience," she admitted, her voice steady.


    "Are you uncertain of your abilities?" the king asked sharply.


    "The knowledge of the stars, the understanding of the Azure Scripture... it perished with the Wi," Kyeong''ui explained. "But fear remains. Each person will interpret this celestial event through the eyes of their own anxieties. Those who share your fears, Father, can act on your behalf."


    "My fears?" the king echoed, intrigued.


    "The fears of a true ruler," Kyeong''ui clarified.


    "And why would you share those fears?" the king asked suspiciously.


    Kyeong''ui met his gaze without hesitation. ""Because I am your heir. Reserved," she declared.


    The king felt a sudden shift within him.


    *Throne and Intellect : This phrase encapsulates both the royal authority and the prevailing ideology of the Dahn Kingdom, effectively serving as a metonym for the nation itself.

 The Crimson Star (6)

    This daughter is determined today.


    Kyeong''ui had always endured the boundaries he set. He had kept her confined, her ambitions suppressed, but he knew the day would come when she would step onto the battlefield, her life a gamble in the pursuit of her desires. It was a boldness he hadn''t witnessed in Kyeongshin, his heir apparent. Pride warred with apprehension as he considered her unwavering resolve.


    Dahn, despite its outward strength, was still a fragile kingdom, its borders porous, its grip on the northern territories and southern coast tenuous at best. Kyeongshin lacked the strength, the ruthlessness, to secure their hold. Yet, a volatile successor was as dangerous as an incompetent one. Three times since the Founder had the throne been contested, each succession marked by bloodshed and court intrigue. Kyeong''ui was no stranger to this history, but she had yet to grasp the true cost of power, the sacrifices it demanded.


    Can she withstand the coming storm? Will the people, the officials, tolerate further bloodshed? And can I, her father, bear the weight of another potential bloodbath, a war waged within my own family?


    The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken anxieties. Finally, the king spoke.


    "What do you require for this endeavor?"


    Kyeong''ui paused, her mind racing. Her father''s question was a test, a challenge to prove her worth. She couldn''t ask for more than she had initially proposed, nor could she appear uncertain. And most importantly, she wanted to surpass Kyeongshin, to claim a power he had never possessed.


    "Five Cannon Ships*," she declared, her voice clear and steady, "manned by three hundred soldiers, in addition to the oarsmen."


    The king''s eyebrows rose in surprise. "Five Cannon Ships, each capable of carrying a hundred soldiers, in addition to the crew? That''s a fleet, not an escort."


    "I intend to transport a large quantity of weapons," Kyeong''ui explained. "Birahng is vulnerable to pirate raids. We''ll need to establish a fortified position upon landing."


    Kyeong''ui''s request was substantial. The king, however, seemed to think it was insufficient. Kyeongshin, on the other hand, thought it was excessive. Their father, who had seized the throne through bloodshed, had never entrusted any of his children with such military might.


    "Father," Kyeongshin interjected, unable to contain his frustration, "five Cannon Ships are beyond Kyeong''ui''s capabilities. She has no experience commanding such a force. Besides, you sought a discreet investigation, to avoid alarming the court. Where will you find the manpower to fill these vessels?"


    "I have soldiers who are not under the Board of War," the king replied.


    "What?" Kyeongshin said, surprised. "What do you mean? Why would such a force exist? You never mentioned..."


    "If you consider why such a force exists," the king interrupted, "you''ll understand why I kept it secret to you."


    Kyeongshin''s voice rose in protest. "How can you entrust such a force to Kyeong''ui?"


    "My incompetent son has failed me," the king said with a cold gaze. "It is my daughter who will undertake this task. She deserves a proper escort. They are the most elite soldiers in the realm, more than capable of protecting her."


    "Cannon Ships are meant for battle," Kyeongshin argued. "Loaded with soldiers and weaponry, anyone will raise suspicion."


    Kyeong''ui, seeing her opportunity, stepped forward and explained her plan.


    "A pleasure cruise will allow us to maintain a low profile. We can conceal weapons and provisions in chests disguised as cargo, and decorate the warship''s upper decks for festivities. This should be sufficient to deceive the common folk. However, the officials are not easily fooled. Therefore, we''ll fill some chests with valuable treasures from the royal treasury and present them as gifts to local officials along the way. Their gratitude will quell any suspicions and appease the local populace. It''s a strategy that benefits us on multiple fronts. Birahng is renowned for its scenic beauty, making a pleasure cruise a fitting cover. And with a younger princess leading the expedition, rather than the heir apparent, it will further deflect suspicion. Even if the high officials harbor doubts, they won''t dare voice them openly."


    The king''s expression softened, a hint of approval in his eyes. Kyeongshin, however, grew increasingly agitated.


    "But Father."


    "I will grant your request, Kyeong''ui," the king said, ignoring Kyeongshin''s protests. "But for your plan to succeed, the preparations must be carried out discreetly under the cover of darkness, and the departure should take place at dawn. Can you be ready within three days?"Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    "Yes, Father."


    "If, during your investigation, you encounter any remnants of the Wi rebellion," the king warned, "ensure their complete eradication. Should the situation prove beyond your capabilities, send an immediate report. Knowing your limitations is a valuable skill."


    "I understand, Father."


    "This is not a mere pleasure cruise or a military exercise," the king reminded her. "Even if there''s no significant threat in Birahng, you must devise a strategy to quell the unrest caused by that star."


    Kyeong''ui bowed her head in acknowledgment.


    "I will assign you a capable advisor," the king added. "I''m not comfortable sending you alone."


    "But, Father, I have Hongyoo," Kyeong''ui said.


    "He is merely a Royal Attendant," the king stated firmly. "He is your shadow, not your advisor. While I cannot spare a high official, I can assign a trustworthy one among the lower officials."


    Kyeong''ui''s mind raced. Most officials were loyal to Kyeongshin. To them, she was nothing more than the king''s favored daughter, shielded within the palace walls. She dreaded facing their skepticism


    "With your permission, Father," she said, "I would like to take Gahngyun Hyeok with me."


    The king''s brow furrowed. "He is your betrothed. There''s no issue with that, but he''s still a fledgling. Why do you wish to take him?"


    "Though he hasn''t officially entered court," Kyeong''ui explained, "he has accompanied his father on numerous tours of the outer provinces. He may lack experience, but his elder brother is stationed in Sahcheon, near Birahng. Should the need arise, we can easily seek his assistance. Furthermore, traveling with my betrothed will raise less suspicion than bringing an official."


    "That''s a valid point," the king agreed.


    Kyeong''ui smiled brightly, her smile a mixture of triumph and determination. The sight of her eagerness touched the king''s heart.


    "It pains me to burden my youngest with such a task," he said, his voice softening.


    "My only concern is fulfilling your expectations, Father."


    "Begin your preparations at dawn," the king instructed. "If you require assistance, pester the Chief Royal Secretary. It''s late. You are all dismissed."


    The three siblings bowed and went out.


    Kyeong''ui exited the chamber, exhaling a long-held breath. She had entered empty-handed, but now held command of a fleet of five warships. The thrill of this newfound power overshadowed Kyeongshin''s disapproving glances. The three siblings walked in silence, their footsteps echoing. Kyeongshin stopped abruptly, his gaze fixed on Kyeong''ui.


    "What are you plotting?" he asked sharply.


    Kyeong''ui asked with a sweet smile. "And why do you refuse to go, brother?"


    Her seemingly innocent question grated on Kyeongshin''s nerves.


    "The Crown Prince has responsibilities," he said with annoyance.


    "My mission is hardly trivial," Kyeong''ui countered.


    "Reconsider your decision," Kyeongshin said. "Speak with Father again tomorrow."


    "The matter is settled," Kyeong''ui said firmly.


    Kyeongshin''s frustration grew. "This is not some childish game," he warned. "Birahng may be part of Dahn, but it''s nearly enemy territory. If those Wi remnants still linger there, your arrival with a fleet of warships could spark an uprising. And those three hundred soldiers will be no match for a full-scale rebellion. With that star blazing in the sky, who do you think those islanders will support? You, or the remnants of their fallen dynasty?"


    "Do you doubt our father''s ability to control his own kingdom?" Kyeong''ui said with a hint of mockery. "That remnants of a fallen dynasty could operate so openly within our borders?"


    "What?!" Kyeongshin said, sputtering.


    "That star is nothing but a spectacle," Kyeong''ui continued, her voice calm and steady. "If the prophecy were true, it would have appeared when our great-grandfather slaughtered the royal family of Wi, not after their dynasty fell."


    Kyeongshin said angrily. "Mind your tongue! Such disrespect for our founders!"


    Kyeong''ui met Hongyoo''s gaze over Kyeongshin''s shoulder, her eyes filled with a mixture of defiance and apprehension. Hongyoo''s lips were pursed, his head shaking almost imperceptibly. Though tempted to retort, Kyeong''ui held her tongue. Kyeongshin, however, continued his tirade.


    "If you''re so confident," he challenged, "answer this. Why request troops if you believe this is a trivial matter?"


    Kyeong''ui countered with a question of her own. "And why do you oppose my going?"


    Kyeongshin''s lips curled into a sneer. "Because you are his heir, " he spat, his voice dripping with resentment. ¡°Reserved.¡±


    He stepped closer, his hand gripping her arm tightly. Hongyoo tensed, his hand instinctively moving towards his sword, but he held back. Kyeongshin leaned in, his voice a menacing whisper against her ear.


    "No matter your naive fantasies, once the fighting begins, you''ll lose control. Embrace that chaos, and you are no longer my sister. Nor I, your brother. Do you still intend to go?"


    Kyeong''ui met his gaze and said with a steady voice. "I do."


    Kyeongshin let out a cold laugh. "Then return safely."


    Kyeong''ui offered a tight smile, but said nothing more. Kyeongshin turned and strode away. Kyeongyul, who had been watching the exchange with a worried expression, hurried after his brother, attempting to soothe his ruffled feathers.


    "Don''t worry, brother," he said. "She''ll return unharmed."


    Kyeongshin scoffed. "Returning unharmed would be a disaster."


    Kyeongyul stopped, his brother''s words echoing in his ears. Kyeongshin continued on, his footsteps echoing through the air of night.


    *Cannon Ship : A flat-bottomed warship primarily deployed in the Dahn navy, capable of accommodating around a hundred combat personnel, excluding oarsmen.

 The Crimson Star (7)

    Sobi(Ц±Ó) pushed open the barracks door. Startled by the sudden intrusion, Cheongro(œ[¶) spilled the liquor he was pouring.


    "Announce yourself next time, would you?" he grumbled, wiping the spilled liquor from his hand. The pungent aroma of alcohol quickly filled the small space. Sobi''s brow furrowed as she noticed the bottle and cup on the table.


    "The High Emissary is fasting, and you, the Second Emissary, are drinking?!"


    Cheongro, though momentarily flustered, met her anger with a playful nonchalance. "I was about to drink, not already drinking."


    "Don''t play with words," Sobi said sharply. "You should be ashamed of yourself."


    "Sobi, your tongue is getting rather sharp," Cheongro said with a sly grin. "Wouldn''t it be wonderful if all the Emissaries were as virtuous as our High Emissary? But you know, we are who we are."


    Sobi, suppressing her growing irritation, reluctantly settled into the chair opposite him. Cheongro avoided her sharp gaze, his fingers drumming a rhythmic beat against the empty cup.


    "Instead of barging in and lecturing me," he said with a hint of mockery, "why don''t you try persuading him to end his fast? At this rate, we''ll be holding his funeral rites before the Guardian''s."


    "That''s precisely why I''m here," Sobi replied. "We need to convince him to stop. He''s going to collapse."


    Cheongro glanced at Sobi, her face clouded with worry. The High Emissary Divine, Norahn, had been fasting for over seven days, and Sobi''s concern for his deteriorating health was evident. Cheongro leaned back, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze fixed on her.


    "You want to intervene, but you''re afraid to face him alone, aren''t you?" he remarked, a sly grin spreading across his face. "So you''ve come to enlist my help. As always, I''m happy to be your scapegoat."


    "Someone needs to intervene," Sobi said firmly. "Don''t you agree?"


    Cheongro shook his head. "I may have mentioned the possibility of his death, but that''s not the issue. Even if he collapses from fasting, no one here would let him die."


    "Then what''s the problem?"


    "The problem is Myeonghyeon Ryang, that viper, running amok while we''re preoccupied."


    "The High Councilor," Sobi corrected.


    "Always with the proper titles," Cheongro chuckled. "It''s easy to criticize those not present, isn''t it? Besides, he''s not my direct superior."


    Sobi''s frown deepened, but Cheongro continued to toy with his empty cup. He pictured Ryang''s face, young and unlined.


    "That young upstart, playing the role of a seasoned head," he scoffed.


    "Young or old, he is the High Councilor," Sobi countered. "If you have criticisms, voice them to his face. Yet, you cower before him, address him with respect. Why so deferential to the ''young upstart''?"


    "Even a tiger was once a cub," Cheongro replied.


    "Perhaps focusing on such matters is detrimental to both the Ministry and the High Emissary," Sobi warned.


    Cheongro''s fingers stilled. He looked up at her, his eyes narrowed. "Is that so?"


    Cheongro''s eyes, dark and unreadable, settled on Sobi, remaining silent.


    "How do you think the Ministry has managed to survive all these years?" he asked.


    "I don''t know how the Ministry has survived," Sobi said defiantly, "but I know why Wi fell. And the Ministry played a significant role in its downfall. The High Emissary emphasizes integrity and restraint for a reason. Yet, here you are, indulging in drink while he fasts."


    "A single shot of liquor hardly constitutes a feast," Cheongro said, smirking. "And thanks to your untimely interruption, I haven''t even had a sip."


    Sobi''s expression remained stern. Cheongro, however, seemed unfazed. He shook his head, a playful smile on his lips.


    "You''re far too rigid, Sobi."


    "Are you suggesting I follow your example and ignore the rules?"


    "A little flexibility wouldn''t hurt," Cheongro said. "Such inflexibility can be detrimental to one''s health. I knew someone once, a stubborn fool, who ended up with his throat slit by his own nephew."This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Sobi shivered, her gaze darting around the room. "Such talk in front of the Young Guardian or the High Councilor could indeed be detrimental to your health," she warned.


    Cheongro chuckled, amused by her predictable response. He leaned closer, his hand resting on her shoulder. "Don''t worry. I''m quite fond of my head where it is."


    He turned and sauntered towards the door. Sobi, her mind reeling from their tense exchange, stared after him.


    "What are you waiting for?" Cheongro called back. "We have a High Emissary to save."


    Sobi, snapping out of her daze, hurried after him.


    The Emissaries, following Norahn(·Ì})''s lead, had been fasting and keeping vigil atop Mount Shinsuk for seven days. Their encampment was pitched near Seong¡¯go, the sacred lake. The night air, heavy with dew and the faint scent of Crystal Haze*, clung to the tent where Norahn resided. Cheongro carefully lifted the flap and entered, Sobi trailing behind him. Inside, two flickering candles cast long shadows, the chill of the early spring night seeping through the thin fabric. Despite their deliberate entrance, Norahn remained facing away from them, his back rigid. Cheongro and Sobi bowed their heads.


    "Your Sanctity," Cheongro greeted.


    "I told you not to enter until summoned," Norahn replied coldly.


    Cheongro and Sobi knelt behind him. Sobi''s gaze lingered on Norahn''s frail form, his thin shoulders outlined against the flickering candlelight. He seemed distant, shrouded in an ethereal aura. Is it the lingering scent of Crystal Haze that clung to him, or something more profound? Even after all this time, Sobi found him unapproachable, his presence intimidating. She marveled at Cheongro''s ease, his ability to converse with Norahn without a hint of hesitation.


    "Your Sanctity," Cheongro began, "perhaps it is time to descend the mountain, to attend to your health."


    "Has the Guardian recovered?" Norahn asked in a flat voice.


    Cheongro pressed on. "While no news isn''t necessarily bad news, Your Sanctity, if Sahngjon has already decided..."


    "If Sahngjon has already decided," Norahn replied sharply, "then what purpose do we serve? We are merely puppets, dancing to his tune."


    "That''s not what I meant..."


    "Where are the others?" Norahn demanded.


    Cheongro, momentarily silenced, swallowed his prepared words and answered. "They are all concerned for your well-being, Your Sanctity. Of course, they also worry for the Guardian, but... the Guardian has an heir. You do not."


    Norahn''s eyes narrowed, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. Sobi felt a surge of anxiety, Cheongro''s words dancing dangerously close to insubordination. Even Cheongro felt a chill at Norahn''s silence, but he pressed on.


    "If the Guardian succumbs to his illness," he said persuasively, "you must be present at Wicheong to ensure a smooth transition of power. Your presence will be vital."


    "That is why I am here, praying for his recovery," Norahn said.


    "Death comes for us all, be it through misfortune or illness," Cheongro said. "Even the Guardian is not immune. Your Sanctity, if you remain here and fail to witness his final moments, you will only weaken your position against the High Councilor."


    "We are indebted to him," Norahn said. "House Myeonghyeon provides for our needs."


    "A subject''s wealth ultimately belongs to their lord," Cheongro countered. "The Guardian merely distributes it as he sees fit. We owe nothing to House Myeonghyeon. If the High Councilor uses his family''s wealth to control Wicheong, how can he be considered a loyal servant of the Guardian?"


    "The High Councilor is not one to seek power," Norahn said firmly. "House Myeonghyeon are loyalists who saved the royal family. Even the Ministry owes them a debt of gratitude."


    "It is their duty to serve their lord," Cheongro replied, his irritation growing.


    Norahn''s voice hardened. "Some subjects strike down their lords, seizing the throne for themselves. True loyalty is a rare thing."


    "But..."


    "The High Councilor is not our enemy," Norahn interrupted. "No one within Wicheong is. But if you continue to harbor such thoughts, you will create enemies where there are none."


    Norahn cut Cheongro off, his voice growing sharper with each interruption. The conversation had devolved into a one-sided lecture. Yet, Cheongro remained convinced of Norahn''s animosity towards Ryang.


    "Do you truly believe that?" he challenged. "You know he whispers poison in the Guardian''s ear, filling his mind with doubts."


    "Not everyone possesses the unwavering faith of the Emissaries," Norahn replied.


    "But for the Guardian''s closest advisor to lack such faith... that is a serious problem."


    "And whose fault is that?" Norahn asked.


    Cheongro faltered.


    "It is our duty to instill faith in him," Norahn said firmly.


    As Cheongro struggled to regain his composure, a commotion erupted outside. Sobi, sensing trouble, excused herself, then rushed back in, her face pale with alarm.


    "Your Sanctity," she said urgently, "we must descend now!"


    Norahn turned to face her. "What is it?"


    "Come outside," Sobi said frantically.


    Norahn and Cheongro exchanged a worried glance, then followed Sobi out of the tent. The Emissaries stood huddled together, their eyes fixed on the sky, their faces illuminated by a crimson glow. Norahn followed their gaze, his heart sinking as he saw the star blazing in the southern sky. An ancient verse from the Azure Scripture flashed through his mind.


    ...and when you are lost in despair, a Crimson Star shall descend upon the land, delivering you from your suffering...


    He recognized the omen, the prophecy unfolding before his eyes. He turned to the assembled Emissaries.


    "I will descend first. Break camp and follow immediately. Sobi, Cheongro, you come with me."


    "Yes, Your Sanctity."


    Norahn turned and strode towards the path leading down the mountain. Sobi and Cheongro hurried after him, their torches casting long, flickering shadows in the darkness.


    *Crystal Haze :  A type of narcotic that is burned and inhaled. In low concentrations, it is sometimes used in religious ceremonies. Severe addiction can lead to fatal delirium and a slow, agonizing death. Even if the user recovers, they may suffer from lasting psychological aftereffect.

 The Crimson Star (8)

    Though night had fallen, the crimson star cast a faint glow upon the mountain path. Cheongro led the way, his torchlight flickering against the trees. Sobi, her stomach churning with a mix of apprehension and anticipation, kept a watchful eye on Norahn, whose steps faltered as they ascended. By the time they reached the mountain''s midpoint, Norahn was visibly struggling. Sobi moved to his side, offering support.


    "Let''s slow down, Your Sanctity," she said. "A fall now would only delay us further."


    Norahn nodded, his breath ragged. Sobi held his arm, a gesture that amused him. He was tall, towering over Sobi, whose help was more of a hindrance. But he accepted her support.


    Sobi, her gaze fixed on Cheongro''s retreating figure, spoke in a hushed tone. "Your Sanctity."


    "Speak," Norahn replied.


    "What will become of us now?" she asked with a mix of fear and hope.


    Norahn hesitated. The verses of the Azure Scripture were vague, open to interpretation. His predecessors had often twisted those ambiguities to suit their own agendas, their arrogance a stark contrast to his own humility. Sobi''s eyes, wide and innocent, awaited his answer. But Norahn couldn''t offer the certainty she sought.


    "I cannot say for sure," he admitted. "The words of the Azure Scripture are sparse, filled with gaps. Sahngjon has sent us that star. We must follow its guidance. Sahngjon will reveal the rest in due time. If we continue on his path, we will reach our destination."


    "But everyone believes the Crimson Star will lead us to the rebirth of Wi," Sobi said.


    "Surely, Sahngjon wouldn''t send this star to keep us hidden on Birahng," Norahn said with a flicker of hope in his eyes.


    Norahn raised his head, his gaze drawn to the crimson star. The Star, bearer of a sacred calling, shone brightly. Its distant light, however, veiled the true nature of its destined possessor. Sobi''s voice, soft and hesitant, broke the silence. "Your Sanctity."


    "Speak." Norahn replied.


    Sobi hesitated. "I believe... there might be some truth to the Second Emissary''s words."


    A faint smile touched Norahn''s lips. "Do you think I don¡¯t share his concerns?"


    Sobi''s eyes widened in surprise. "Do you?"


    "I trust the High Councilor more than Cheongro. For now."


    "But the Second Emissary..."


    "I understand Cheongro''s motives," Norahn interrupted.


    "Though his methods may be unorthodox," Sobi said, "his loyalty to you and the Ministry is unwavering."


    "That is precisely his flaw."


    "How can that be a flaw?" Sobi asked.


    Norahn stopped and looked at her. He gently lifted her chin. Sobi met his gaze.


    "The Emissary''s faith must be absolute," Norahn said firmly. "Always remember that, Sobi."


    "Yes, Your Sanctity," Sobi replied.


    They continued their descent in silence.


    The three figures, drenched in sweat and exhaustion, reached the entrance of Wicheong Palace. Bathed in the ethereal glow of the crimson star, a familiar silhouette awaited them. As they drew closer, they recognized Myeonghyeon Ryang, his ash-colored robes damp with the night dew.


    "High Councilor," Norahn greeted, bowing his head in respect.


    Cheongro and Sobi also bowed, their greetings met with a curt nod from Ryang.


    "I''ve been expecting you," Ryang said.


    "How fares the Guardian?" Norahn asked.


    "Do you speak of the new Guardian?" Ryang hinted.


    Norahn''s heart sank. He closed his eyes, a silent prayer escaping his lips. "May the Light of Sahngjon guide him."Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Ryang quickly grasped the situation. "It seems our messages crossed paths. The previous Guardian was gravely ill. We sent word to the summit."


    "We haven''t received any news," Norahn admitted.


    "While your dedication to his recovery is commendable," Ryang said with a hint of rebuke, "your presence at his side during his final moments would have been more appropriate."


    Norahn lowered his gaze. "I apologize for my negligence."


    Sobi, sensing the growing tension between them, glanced nervously at Cheongro. His lips were curled into a sneer, his displeasure evident. Sobi shared his unease. Ryang had always been cold, especially towards the Emissaries. Seeing Norahn''s subservient posture, a flicker of defiance sparked within her.


    Ryang continued. "The late Guardian''s passing is a grave loss, but that is not our primary concern at this moment. I was on my way to Nahmgyo when I witnessed the star and returned to Wicheong."


    "I, too, have returned after witnessing the star," Norahn replied.


    They both understood the unspoken implications. Ryang''s eyes followed Norahn''s, their gazes converging on the celestial beacon. Its brilliance was unsettling.


    "Is that the Crimson Star of the Azure Scripture?" Ryang asked.


    "It appeared with the rise of the new Guardian," Norahn replied. "Sahngjon''s will seems clear."


    Ryang''s gaze shifted back to Norahn. "Are you certain?"


    Norahn''s unwavering conviction faltered for a moment under Ryang''s intense scrutiny, but he quickly recovered his composure. "I believe so," he said firmly.


    "I had hoped for a different answer," Ryang replied coldy.


    Norahn''s lips tightened. Ryang, undeterred by the shift in atmosphere, pressed on.


    "Instruct the Emissaries to search the records," he commanded. "We must determine if such an event has occurred before. This is a matter of great importance. We cannot afford hasty judgments."


    "Why not issue the order yourself?" Norahn asked with a hint of challenge. "There are still many Emissaries at Wicheong Palace."


    "I do not command Emissaries." Ryang replied.


    He turned and walked towards the cave. Norahn exhaled and followed, his footsteps echoing Ryang''s.


    As Ryang and Norahn disappeared into the depths of the cave, Cheongro''s suppressed anger erupted.


    "That arrogant..."


    "Second Emissary," Sobi cautioned, her voice a gentle warning.


    "He acts as if he''s our superior!" Cheongro spat.


    "Let it go," Sobi said. "He is second only to the Guardian."


    Cheongro''s eyes narrowed. "Second to the Guardian? Even the Guardian kneels before the High Emissary Divine when receiving Sahngjon''s decree. Why should he yield to that... that mere councilor?"


    Sobi sighed. Cheongro continued his tirade, his frustration now directed at her.


    "I told you! Both you and the High Emissary are too naive, too trusting. Now that his cousin sits as Guardian, he''ll become a tyrant. If we allow this to continue, that viper will try to control us. If there''s even the Ministry left to control."


    Cheongro stormed off, his robes billowing behind him as he followed the path Norahn had taken. Sobi hurried after him.


    ©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤


    Ryang and Norahn entered the meeting chamber. The room was filled with the leaders and officers of Wicheong Palace, Seong seated at the head of the table, where his father had once presided. Ryang and Norahn bowed respectfully.


    "Guardian," Ryang acknowledged, then moved to his designated seat at Seong''s right. Norahn remained kneeling. Seong studied Norahn''s haggard appearance, his eyes filled with concern.


    "Despite your devoted efforts," he began, "the previous Guardian has passed."


    "I failed to be by his side in his final moments. I am ashamed."


    "There''s no need for such self-reproach," Seong assured him. "We all recognize your dedication."


    "May the Light of Sahngjon guide his path," Norahn murmured, his voice barely audible.


    A heavy silence fell over the room. The news of Cheon Yong''s passing, intertwined with the uncertainty surrounding the crimson star, cast a somber pall over the gathering. Norahn broke the silence, his voice firm.


    "Guardian," he addressed Seong, "grant me command of the troops."


    All eyes turned to Norahn. Seong, however, avoided his gaze.


    "We cannot dwell on grief," Norahn continued. "There''s a reason we''ve gathered here tonight. We must act swiftly."


    Seong remained silent, his hesitation evident. It had been less than a day since he had declared his intention to dismantle Wicheong Palace. Now, this star, this crimson omen, felt like a rebuke from Sahngjon, a punishment for his weakness. He deflected Norahn''s request, his voice laced with uncertainty.


    "If this is the star of the Azure Scripture, then surely whatever fate awaits us will come to pass. Why the urgency?"


    Seong''s response was met with stunned silence. Norahn''s mouth hung open. Despite the appearance of the star, the long-awaited beacon of hope, Seong seemed neither excited nor relieved. Ryang, sensing the awkward tension, stepped forward.


    "Your Luminance, we are not the only ones who have seen this star. Though we cannot be certain of its meaning, we must act swiftly. If we delay, others might reach our destination first."


    "Others?" Seong''s brow furrowed. "Who do you speak of?"


    "The Dahn forces stationed in Hyangdo," Ryang replied, "and Cheon Hwan."


    The mention of his brother''s name, a name that had long faded into the recesses of his memory, sent a shiver down Seong''s spine. His mind, clouded with doubt and uncertainty, suddenly felt clear. Ryang''s expression remained impassive.


    "Hwan''s fate remains unknown," Seong said.


    "Indeed," Ryang agreed. "There''s no confirmation of his death. If he lives, he too will be drawn to this star. We must grant the High Emissary''s request and deploy the troops immediately. Though we cannot be certain, if this is indeed the prophesied star, we cannot afford to be last."


    Ryang''s words presented a single, unavoidable path.

 The Crimson Star (9)

    Ryang''s gaze bore into Seong, the weight of his silence a silent vow to bury Seong''s decision to disband Wicheong Palace. Beside him, Myeonghyeon Seon stood in silent agreement, her expression mirroring her brother''s. Faced with their unwavering front, their silent pressure to recant, Seong felt trapped, with nowhere to retreat. Though he was the Guardian, the one who commanded, it was Ryang and the others who operated. Yet, even this simple act of leadership, of issuing a command, felt like an insurmountable burden.


    "Very well," he finally agreed. "Dispatch the High Emissary."


    He turned towards the High Commander, Kyeongseon Ung, but before he could issue the order, Seon interjected.


    "But Your Luminance," she asked with concern, "who will oversee the late Guardian''s funeral rites if the High Emissary is absent?"


    Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room. Ryang, surprised by his sister''s sudden intervention, shot her a warning glance.


    "Though the Crimson Star demands our attention," Seon continued, "we are still in mourning. The High Emissary has always presided over the funeral rites. While a swift resolution would be ideal, unexpected problems could delay his return. Must he truly lead the expedition?"


    Ryang''s gaze hardened, his eyes fixed on Seon''s seemingly innocent expression. He silently urged Norahn to dismiss her concerns, but he remained silent, his gaze still lowered.


    "What say you, High Emissary?" Seong asked.


    Norahn hesitated. Though eager to act, the shame of failing to attend the late Guardian''s deathbed weighed heavily on him. "I have no opinion to offer," he replied. "I await your command, Guardian."


    Seong turned to Ryang. "What is your thought, High Councilor?"


    Ryang paused, gathering his thoughts before addressing the room. "We cannot be certain of the star''s true nature," he began. "But if this is indeed the Crimson Star of the Azure Scripture, then much will change. We cannot cling to the old ways if we are to face the challenges ahead."


    "Are you suggesting we send the High Emissary?" Seong asked.


    "You must decide who is best suited for this task," Ryang replied. "As for the funeral rites, I can oversee them, following the Ministry''s guidance. Such rituals are rare, and they too will need to consult their records."


    Ryang nodded subtly towards Norahn, a silent gesture of encouragement. Seon''s lips tightened, but she remained silent, recognizing the futility of further protest. Seong finally issued his command.


    "Very well," he said. "Dispatch the High Emissary. High Commander, provide him with an escort of one hundred men in civilian attire. High Councilor, you will oversee the funeral rites."


    Ryang bowed his head in acceptance, but Ung''s face was etched with concern.


    "Your Luminance," he said, "one hundred men is too many. We''ve never deployed such a force outside the palace. It will hinder our movements and risk exposure should we encounter the Hyangdo."


    "We need those men, High Commander," Ryang insisted. "The High Emissary has no heir. We cannot risk his safety. While we must protect Wicheong, we must also protect him. I urge you to follow the Guardian''s command."


    Ung hesitated, but he eventually yielded. "As you wish."


    Ryang turned to Norahn. "You have your orders, High Emissary. Make haste."


    Norahn rose, smoothing his robes and bowing respectfully towards Seong. "I will seek Sahngjon''s guidance."


    "May the Light of Sangjon guide your path," Seong replied, offering a small nod of encouragement.


    Norahn bowed once more, then, with Cheongro and Sobi behind him, exited the chamber. The eyes of the assembled leaders followed them, a mixture of hope and trepidation reflected in their gazes.


    The meeting concluded, and the attendees dispersed, their hushed whispers echoing through the chamber.  Seong, his shoulders slumped, retreated to his chambers. Ryang, sensing his distress, decided to postpone further conversation. He exited the chamber, leading Seon and Dara towards the library in the Ministry. The Emissaries guarding the entrance bowed respectfully as they approached, then discreetly stepped aside. Ryang held the door open for Seon and Dara, then followed, securing the entrance behind them.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    "What was that about?" he asked Seon sharply.


    Seon ignored his question, her attention focused on the shelves lining the walls. "It was a valid concern," she replied dismissively.


    "It was unnecessary," Ryang said. "Absence of the High Emissary doesn''t prevent us from proceeding with the funeral rites."


    Seon raised an eyebrow. "Are you oblivious to the Emissaries'' disdain for us? Even with Norahn gone, they''ll find fault with your every decision if you don''t have the Guardian''s explicit approval."


    She moved between the shelves, her fingers trailing along the spines of ancient texts, searching for the relevant scrolls.


    "Father never bowed to the Ministry''s whims," Ryang said.


    Seon emerged from between the shelves. "That''s because he was a wise councilor."


    "What?"


    "Don''t be obtuse," Seon said. "Do you honestly believe it''s wise to let Norahn seize control? Do you truly know less about the Azure Scripture than he does? I believe you could have handled the star just fine."


    "I wouldn''t have the same urgency," Ryang said.


    "That much is true," Seon agreed with a nod.


    Ryang paused, a retort forming on his lips, but he swallowed the words, choosing silence instead. Seon continued her search among the shelves, her movements a whirlwind of restless energy. Ryang''s voice, laced with concern, cut through the musty scent of aged paper.


    "Don''t speak out of turn," he advised. "You hold no official position. As you said, the Ministry already views us with disdain. Your interference will only worsen matters. Even the most well-intentioned actions can backfire, especially given our connection to the Guardian. Don''t become a burden to the new Guardian."


    Seon remained silent, though a faint grumble suggested she had heard his words. Ryang turned to leave. The creak of the opening door made Seon whirl around, her movements a blur as she rushed to the table, dropping the books with a thud.


    "Where are you going?" she aksed.


    "To see the Guardian."


    "Don''t you have work to do?"


    A faint smile touched Ryang''s lips. "My capable and caring sister will handle things in my absence, I''m sure. Dara, stay here and assist Seon."


    "Yes, my Lord," Dara replied with a respectful bow. Seon scoffed.


    As Ryang exited, Seon slammed the door shut. "He expects me to do all the work while he gallivants around, playing the dutiful councilor?" Seon muttered. "Who kept the trading company afloat while he was gone? Who handled everything while he was incapacitated?"


    "Don''t be discouraged, my Lady." Dara said, attempting to soothe Seon''s frustration. "You''ve come of age. Surely, greater opportunities await you. Perhaps these tasks are a stepping stone to something more."


    "I don''t need insignificant tasks," Seon scoffed. "They''ll only lead to more menial labor. I''ll forge my own path."


    Seon''s sharp tone made Dara flinch. Seon noticed her apprehension and added, "Don''t even think about whispering tales of my defiance to him. There will be consequences."


    "Yes, my Lady," Dara replied, bowing her head submissively.


    Seon settled at the table, her gaze fixed on the scrolls she had selected. Dara prepared the inkstone, grinding the ink stick with quiet efficiency. The gentle scraping sound filled the room, mingling with the subtle fragrance of the ink. Seon''s eyes, initially narrowed with frustration, softened as she focused on the text illuminated by the candlelight. Dara, observing her shifting emotions, struggled to keep pace.


    "Are you alright, my Lady?" she asked cautiously. "With the Guardian''s passing, I mean."


    Seon looked up from her reading, her brow furrowed. "Why do you ask?"


    "He was particularly fond of you."


    "He was," Seon agreed and returned to her reading, offering no further explanation. Dara, sensing her withdrawal, remained silent.


    ©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤


    Ryang left the library and headed towards Seong''s chambers. With each flickering torch that lined the cave walls, the image of the crimson star, hanging ominously in the southern sky, flashed through his mind. Its light seemed to pulsate with an unsettling energy, a far cry from the gentle radiance he associated with Sahngjon. He wondered where Norahn and his Emissaries were, imagining their reactions upon reaching their destination ¨C a mixture of awe and perhaps, disappointment. Lost in contemplation, he didn''t notice Ung approaching.


    "Going to see the Guardian?" Ung asked, breaking through Ryang''s thoughts.


    Ryang stopped abruptly, bowing his head in respect. "High Commander."


    "Your burdens will be heavy now, High Councilor," Ung said proudly. "You are the Guardian''s most trusted advisor."


    "My duties remain the same," Ryang replied neutrally.


    Ung glanced around before continuing in a hushed tone. "Guide and support the new Guardian. He is easily swayed." His eyes, creased with worry, held a plea that Ryang found unsettling.


    "I disagree," Ryang said. "Your assessment is too harsh."


    "It''s better for us to discuss this than for the entire palace to whisper behind his back," Ung argued.


    "Uncle..." Ryang began, but Ung stepped closer.


    "You understand my concerns, Ryang," he said urgently. "When you mentioned Hwan earlier, the Guardian was clearly shaken. This star, this prophecy... it''s what we''ve all been waiting for. It''s not right for him to hesitate now, for personal reasons."


    "He is grieving," Ryang argued. "His father passed away before the star appeared. He wasn''t even allowed to be by his father''s side in his final moments."


    "And have I been sleeping all along?" Ung said.


    Ryang''s lips tightened.


    "Only you and I should witness his vulnerability," Ung continued. "Go to him. Strengthen his resolve."


    Ryang nodded. Ung clapped him on the shoulder, then continued on his way. Ryang bowed his head, watching him go, then turned towards Seong''s chambers.

 The Crimson Star (10)

    Ryang reached Seong''s chambers and entered with announcing himself. Seong sat at the table, a weary smile etched on his face. Ryang settled into the chair opposite him.


    "You should be resting," Seong spoke first. "You must be exhausted."


    "I can''t rest now. I have to oversee the funeral preparations." Ryang replied with a faint smile.


    Seong poured tea from the pot on the table, the fragrant steam swirling in the air. He handed Ryang a cup.


    "Seon seems to be growing more sharp, wouldn''t you agree?" Seong asked.


    Ryang''s expression faltered.


    "Don''t worry," Seong said reassuringly. "I''m not criticizing her. It''s just...surprising. It seems everyone is maturing, except me."


    "You have changed as well, Guardian. For the better." Ryang said.


    Seong remained silent, his gaze fixed on the swirling steam rising from his teacup. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken anxieties. Ryang finally broke it.


    "Perhaps," he said hesitantly. "We could forget about our earlier conversation."


    Seong''s smile was tinged with a bitter irony. "It''s absurd, isn''t it?" he asked. "The moment I mentioned disbanding, the star appeared. I believe Sahngjon is displeased with me."


    "We cannot be certain of the star''s true nature," Ryang said. "We must await the return of the High Emissary before interpreting Sahngjon''s will."


    "And yet you wish to disregard my earlier declaration? If Norahn returns and reports that the star is of no consequence, will you still hold me to my word?"


    "Guardian." Ryang began, his composure momentarily shaken by Seong''s playful challenge.


    Seong chuckled, his laughter a brittle sound that echoed through the room. He enjoyed seeing Ryang flustered, his usual composure replaced by a flicker of vulnerability. But the amusement quickly faded, his smile replaced by a somber expression.


    "My decision wasn''t made on a whim," he said.


    Seong¡¯s gaze drifted towards the ceiling, his thoughts a distant echo in the quiet room. Ryang watched him, his heart aching for his friend. Seong''s struggles, his internal battles, were a silent burden he carried alone.


    "I understand," Ryang said with empathy.


    Seong remained silent.


    "I have a question," Ryang said.


    "What is it?"


    "What did you intend to do after disbanding?"


    Seong''s brow furrowed. "I thought we agreed to forget about that."


    "I¡¯m just curious about the plans you had," Ryang said.


    Seong''s eyes met his. He took a sip of tea, then spoke.


    "I don''t know. Perhaps I would have left. I couldn''t stay on Birahng. I made that decision for them, for the people of Wicheong. But how could they forgive me, their lord, the one who shattered their dreams? I couldn''t bear their disappointment, their resentment. I''ve spent my life relying on you, Ryang, on your house. Perhaps it was time to repay that debt, to offer my services in return." He paused, a wry smile touching his lips. "I doubt you would turn me away."


    Ryang smiled slightly. Seong mirrored the expression. Then they both looked away. The silence that followed was heavy, the lighthearted banter of moments before a distant memory. The weight of their new reality pressed down on Seong.


    "Perhaps it would have been better if the star had appeared while my father was still alive," he mused. "He wasn''t as...weak as I am."


    "A weak man wouldn''t have made such a decision," Ryang said.


    "Then what am I?" Seong asked, his voice filled with self-doubt. "Selfish?"


    "Why do you think you''re selfish?"


    "Because," Seong hesitated. "Because I wanted to give up. I was tired. Still I am."


    Ryang couldn''t fault him for his perceived weakness, his perceived selfishness. The burden of leadership, the weight of their lineage, had never brought Seong joy. Had he been born an ordinary man, he wouldn''t have faced such impossible choices. Ryang understood his pain, shared his burden. He blinked back the memories that threatened to surface.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "Why now?" Seong wondered. "The prophecy never showed any signs of fulfillment during my father''s lifetime, nor during my grandfather''s, nor even in the time of our ancestors¡¯ reign. They all yearned for the star''s appearance, yet Sahngjon remained silent, even as Wi fell, as our ancestors were slaughtered."


    "The timing of the star''s appearance, so soon after the late Guardian''s passing, is hardly a coincidence," Ryang said. "Our perception of time differs from Sahngjon''s. I believe this is a sign. Sahngjon''s will rests with you."


    Seong chuckled. "I never thought I''d hear you speak of Sahngjon''s will. Have you become a believer?"


    Ryang smiled faintly. "Let¡¯s wait for return of the High Emissary before making such judgments."


    Ryang''s attempt at humor, as usual, fell flat. Seong studied his face. His features were sharp and refined, his demeanor exuding the same air of integrity as his father, Myeonghyeon Seung. His occasional smiles were warm and reassuring, his eyes youthful and bright, yet holding a depth that often remained hidden. Seong recalled Ryang''s earlier mention of Hwan, a name that had been unspoken for years.


    "Ryang," Seong began hesitantly, "do you truly believe Hwan is also drawn to this star?"


    Ryang''s expression hardened. "I do," he stated firmly. He watched Seong''s eyes flicker with uncertainty.


    Ryang sighed. "I encountered the High Commander on my way here," he said.


    "I doubt he offered any words of encouragement."


    Ryang didn''t deny Seong''s assumption. "He''s worried about you."


    "He''s always worried about me," Seong said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Never about you or Hwan."


    "That was the past," Ryang said. "He may have cared for Cheon Hwan, but he wouldn''t mourn a traitor."


    Seong averted his gaze, but Ryang pressed on. "He fears you''re still haunted by that day, by your inability to stop him. He doesn''t blame you. How could anyone expect you to raise a sword against your own brother? But should you face him again, you cannot hesitate. He is not your brother anymore."


    "There''s no need for such concern," Seong dismissed. "It''s been four years. No one has seen any sign of Hwan. He''s either sailed beyond the horizon or perished at sea."


    "You searched for him, then?" Ryang asked sharply.


    Seong flinched, caught off guard by the accusation in Ryang''s tone. Ryang pressed on, seizing on the slip.


    "You just said. That no one has seen him."


    "Ryang."


    "Do not harbor any sympathy for him," Ryang said intensely.


    Seong, unnerved by Ryang''s sudden shift in demeanor, quickly changed the subject. "Where do you think Norahn is headed?"


    Ryang took a deep breath, regaining his composure. "The remaining Emissaries mentioned the star is moving southeast," he said. "They still have a long way to go."


    "Southeast?" Seong''s brow furrowed. "Do you think the star seeks the sea?"


    "If it disappears over the horizon, it''s merely a celestial anomaly," Ryang said. "If it''s truly the star, why would it seek the sea when the Guardian of the Azure Scripture resides here?"


    Ryang''s logic was sound. But Seong couldn''t shake the feeling of unease. He pictured Norahn and the Emissaries, their white robes billowing in the wind as they navigated the treacherous paths of Birahng, their destination uncertain, their fate unknown.


    ©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤


    Norahn, accompanied by Cheongro, Sobi, and a handful of other Emissaries, departed from Wicheong Palace with an escort of one hundred soldiers provided by Kyeongseon Ung. The night was alive with the rustling of leaves and the chirping of insects, their sounds echoing through the moonlit forest. They followed the crimson star, its light guiding their path. As they journeyed, the star that had once seemed distant now hung directly overhead.


    Cheongro turned to Norahn. "Your Sanctity," he began, "did you not find the Guardian''s demeanor unsettling?"


    "His father has passed," Norahn replied flatly.


    Cheongro, undeterred, pressed on. "But his illness was no secret. His passing, though regrettable, shouldn''t be cause for such... despair. Even the High Councilor, he''s not a son. I expected them to be elated. We''ve awaited this star for a thousand years..."


    "Enough with your idle chatter," Norahn said. "Focus on the path ahead. The star draws near."


    Norahn himself was troubled by Seong''s reaction, his lack of enthusiasm. He had no answers for Cheongro''s questions. But Cheongro, unable to contain his curiosity, turned to Sobi.


    "The High Councilor''s sudden support is suspiciousm," he said. "He was so hostile when we first arrived... And his sister''s objections were so transparent. But the High Councilor... he''s a sly one. I can''t decipher his motives."


    "And your own motives are hardly a secret," Sobi retorted.


    "You..." Cheongro sputtered.


    Their bickering grated on Norahn''s nerves. "Is there nothing else to discuss on this sacred night?" he asked.


    "Forgive us, Your Sanctity," Cheongro and Sobi replied, bowing their heads.


    The air thickened with an unspoken tension. Norahn, unable to ignore the throbbing pain behind his eyes, winced. It had started back at Wicheong Palace, a persistent ache accompanied by a strange blurring of his vision. He had never experienced such discomfort. But with the urgency of their mission, he had dismissed it as a lingering effect of his prolonged fast. Now, the pain intensified, a searing sensation he could no longer conceal. Sobi, ever perceptive, noticed his discomfort.


    "Your Sanctity," she asked with concern, "are you unwell?"


    "It''s nothing," Norahn replied, his voice strained. "I''m merely tired from the late hours."


    "But you''ve been pushing yourself so hard, with little rest..."


    Before Sobi could finish, Norahn''s knees buckled, and he crumpled to the ground with a groan.


    "Your Sanctity!" Sobi cried out, rushing to his side. She knelt beside him, her hand reaching out to support his trembling form. Cheongro and the other Emissaries gathered around.


    Norahn''s forehead was slick with sweat, his hands pressed against his eyes. The pain intensified, a searing agony that pulsed through his skull. He gasped for breath.


    "I''m fine," he insisted. "Continue on your path. There''s no need to delay."


    Sobi wiped his forehead with her sleeve. "You''re clearly not fine! Tell me what''s wrong!" she said urgently.


    As Norahn opened his mouth to speak, an Emissary''s panicked voice cut through the tense silence.


    "Your Sanctity! The star! Its movement has changed!"

 The Crimson Star (11)

    They all looked up, their gazes drawn to the crimson star. It blazed with a sudden intensity, then plummeted towards the earth, its light searing their eyes. It streaked across the sky, a fiery meteor hurtling towards the horizon. Then, with a deafening roar and a blinding flash, it vanished. The Emissaries shielded their eyes, their bodies trembling as the earth shook beneath their feet. Silence descended, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the pounding of their hearts. They cautiously looked up, searching for the star, but found only a swirling mass of clouds where it had once shone. Fear gripped them, their voices hushed.


    "The star..." Cheongro stammered. "Your Sanctity, what do we...?"


    He trailed off, his words lost in the sudden silence. Norahn had no answers. Lost and disoriented, they looked to their leader for guidance, but Norahn was as shaken as they were. He clutched his head, his body wracked with pain. The throbbing behind his eyes intensified, a searing agony that tore through him. A cry escaped his lips, a raw, guttural sound that echoed through the trees. As the pain reached its peak, streaks of blue light pulsed from beneath his tightly clenched fingers. The Emissaries, fear etched on their faces, stumbled back. Only Sobi remained by his side, her hand gripping his robe.


    Then, as suddenly as it began, the pain subsided. Norahn''s hands fell to his sides, his body limp with exhaustion. Sobi quickly moved to support him. A faint blue light flickered beneath Norahn''s eyelids. As he opened his eyes, a collective gasp arose from the Emissaries. His eyes, once a deep brown, now shimmered with a vibrant blue, like the clear waters of Birahng''s coast. The Emissaries and soldiers fell to their knees, their heads bowed in reverence. Tears streamed down their faces, their voices a chorus of awe and devotion. Sobi gently took Norahn''s hand in hers.


    "Emissary of Sahngjon," she proclaimed, her voice filled with reverence. "Guide of Cheon¡¯wi."


    She bowed her head and kissed the back of his hand.


    "Reveal to us Sahngjon''s will," she pleaded.


    Norahn''s voice trembled. "I cannot see."


    Sobi looked up at him. "What do you mean, Your Sanctity?"


    "I cannot see your face."


    The Emissaries exchanged worried glances, their eyes drawn to the faint blue light emanating from Norahn''s. But Norahn saw only darkness, a swirling void that obscured his vision. He could sense Sobi''s presence, her warmth, her voice, but the world around him remained a blur. Even the vibrant blue of his own eyes was hidden from him. He blinked repeatedly, his heart pounding with a growing fear. With each blink, the darkness shifted, forming shapes and images. But they weren''t images of Sobi, or the surrounding forest. He saw the coastline of Birahng, the rugged cliffs of Sahngseon Coast, a vision so vivid, so real, that it couldn''t be dismissed as a mere hallucination. Norahn understood the message.


    "We must continue," he declared. "Towards the star''s destination."


    "What do you see?" Cheongro asked. "Has Sahngjon granted you a vision?"


    "The star hasn''t vanished," Norahn replied, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "We must hurry."


    At Norahn''s command, the Emissaries and soldiers rose from their bowed positions and resumed their journey. Sobi, her eyes filled with concern, gently touched Norahn''s arm.


    "Your Sanctity," she asked, "can you truly not see me? What can we do if your sight doesn''t return?"


    Norahn''s voice was calm, reassuring. "There''s no need for worry. It is better to see what needs to be seen, rather than what merely appears before us."


    Though his words were brave, his brow was furrowed with pain. Sobi was more concerned about his suffering than the vanished star.


    "Are you still in pain?" she asked.


    "If this is Sahngjon''s will, then I must endure it," Norahn replied.


    Sobi''s voice trembled. "I never imagined I would witness such a thing." She was overwhelmed by a mix of awe and anxiety. The High Emissary, his eyes imbued with the light of Sahngjon, was a figure she had only read about in the Azure Scripture. Yet, here he was, before her, a testament to the prophecy''s truth.


    Norahn, sensing her gaze, looked down towards her. "Perhaps this is Sahngjon''s way of guiding the Guardian," he mused.


    Sobi, emboldened by his words, took his hand and kissed it again. The group pressed on towards Sahngseon Coast, their pace quickening. Sobi held Norahn''s hand, guiding him through the darkness.


    The sea stretched before them, calm and vast, the horizon a distant line in the moonlight. The rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore filled the air, the foam glowing faintly as it washed over the sand. The light within Norahn''s eyes intensified as they neared the coast. The vision that had plagued him merged with reality, the familiar landscape blurring into the fantastical image. As they reached the shore, the vision faded, and Norahn''s vision gradually returned. He knelt on the sand, his fingers digging into the fine grains.


    "Can you see again?" Sobi asked anxiously.


    Norahn nodded, watching the sand slip through his fingers. He realized then that to witness Sahngjon''s will, one must sacrifice their earthly sight. The divine order, in its mysterious ways, had been revealed. He turned towards the Emissaries.


    "This is where we must be," he declared. "Are there others?"


    "We are alone, Your Sanctity," Cheongro replied. "It seems no one else followed the star."


    "Secure the perimeter," Norahn commanded. "Search the coastline."


    At Norahn''s command, the Emissaries and soldiers dispersed, their figures scattering across the sandy expanse. Cheongro oversaw the search, while Sobi and a dozen soldiers remained by Norahn''s side. They searched throughout the night, the darkness slowly giving way to the faintest hint of dawn, but found no trace of the fallen star. Exhaustion weighed heavily on them, their eyelids drooping, their steps faltering.


    Just as their hopes began to dwindle, Cheongro spotted a cluster of distant lights, flickering like fireflies amidst the trees. Though their purpose was unknown, it was clear that others were approaching, just as Ryang had feared. He hurried back to Norahn.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "Your Sanctity," he said urgently, "we''ve found nothing. But there are lights approaching from the forest. We cannot delay any longer."


    Norahn remained silent, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the first hints of purple dawn painted the sky. Cheongro pressed on.


    "We must return to Wicheong Palace. Sahngjon will guide us again."


    "Return empty-handed?" Norahn said. "If the star isn''t here, then we must search the sea. We must find its bearer."


    Cheongro flinched at the intensity in his eyes, the blue light glowing with an almost eerie luminescence. But he stood his ground.


    "Your Sanctity, we have no ships. Ordering Emissaries into the sea at dawn is a death sentence."


    Norahn hesitated..


    "We are not empty-handed," Cheongro said. "If The High Councilor witness your transformation, he cannot deny Sahngjon''s will now. The light will guide us. Return to Wicheong and inform the Guardian. We can continue the search later." He paused, his voice taking on a more urgent tone. "What if those approaching are Dahnian soldiers? We cannot risk a confrontation now."


    Norahn finally yielded. "Return to Wicheong," he commanded.


    Cheongro bowed, then hurried towards the soldiers, relaying the order. Sobi, noticing the approaching lights, quickly tore a strip of cloth from her white robe.


    "What are you doing?" Norahn asked.


    "Your eyes," Sobi said. "It¡¯s too detectable. We must conceal them."


    She wrapped the cloth around Norahn''s head, covering his eyes. The blue light was still visible, but its intensity was diminished. Cheongro returned, the Emissaries and soldiers assembled behind him. They began their journey back to Wicheong Palace, Norahn''s footsteps slow and hesitant. He sent a swift runner ahead.


    ©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤


    Those who remained at Wicheong Palace gathered in the meeting chamber, their anxious whispers echoing through the dimly lit space as they awaited news. The night stretched on, their eyelids growing heavy, their hopes dwindling with each passing hour. Dawn broke, then midday approached, but still there was no sign of returning. Finally, as the sun began its descent, one Emissary entered the chamber, bowing low before Seong.


    "Your Luminance," he announced, "the High Emissary Divine has arrived at the gates."


    "Finally," Seong breathed.


    Moments later, Norahn entered, flanked by Cheongro and Sobi. A collective gasp arose from the assembled crowd as they noticed the cloth wrapped around Norahn''s head, concealing his eyes. Seong''s brow furrowed, his gaze fixed on the unusual sight. The three figures bowed before him.


    "Are you injured?" Seong asked. "Why are your eyes..."


    Sobi silently stepped forward, unwrapping the cloth from Norahn''s face. Another gasp echoed through the chamber. Though not as intense as the light witnessed at the coast, a faint blue glow emanated from Norahn''s eyes. Seong inhaled sharply, his heart pounding.


    "I have received the Light of Sahngjon," Norahn said, bowing his head again.


    Seong couldn''t tear his gaze away. The Azure Scripture spoke of the first High Emissary, who had served by the Founder''s side, his eyes imbued with the divine light of Sahngjon, guiding the king towards a righteous path. Many had interpreted this as a metaphor for wisdom and enlightenment, but now, witnessing Norahn''s transformation, Seong realized the truth of the ancient text.


    "Tell me," he said, "tell me everything."


    "As we journeyed towards the coast," Norahn began, "the star blazed with a blinding light, then vanished in a deafening thunderclap. It was then that the light appeared within me, and my vision was taken. Sahngjon granted me a vision of Sahngseon Coast. The closer we drew to the coast, the more intense the light became. Only upon reaching the shore did my sight begin to return. As we made our way back, the light within me dimmed."


    "Is this true?" Seong asked.


    "It is as the High Emissary Divine has spoken," Cheongro confirmed. "We searched the coastline thoroughly, but found no trace of the star. We were prepared to continue the search, but dawn approached, and with it, the risk of discovery. We had no choice but to return."


    Seong fell silent. He had hoped this would all end quietly, that the star would fade, and life would return to normal. But events had spiraled beyond his control, and he felt overwhelmed by the weight of his responsibilities.


    Ryang, sensing Seong''s hesitation, broke the silence. "What now?" he asked. "If this confirms the star''s significance, then your fruitless expedition poses a problem, does it not?"


    Even in the face of the divine, Ryang''s composure remained unshaken. Cheongro, irritated by his impertinence, answered in Norahn''s stead.


    "Sahngjon will reveal his will in due time. We will follow his guidance," he said.


    "Relying on a divine revelation that may never come," Ryang countered, "Isn''t that a bit reckless?"


    Cheongro glared at Ryang. "Is this how you greet the Emissaries and soldiers who have toiled tirelessly through the night, High Councilor?" he argued. "With reprimands?"


    "Second Emissary," Sobi cautioned, her voice a gentle warning.


    Ryang stood by Seong''s side, his gaze fixed on Cheongro, a cold disapproval in his eyes. Cheongro met his stare, refusing to back down. As the tension between them crackled, Seong intervened.


    "Second Emissary, show the High Councilor some respect."


    "My apologies," Cheongro muttered, his gaze finally falling.


    As the tension subsided, Ryang addressed Cheongro''s earlier defiance. "I, too, hope for a swift resolution," he said with a subtle warning. "Delays will only lead to further complications."


    "What complications do you foresee, High Councilor?" Seong inquired.


    "Dahn will not remain idle," Ryang replied without hesitation.


    Cheongro scoffed. "Those heathens burned our scriptures, desecrated our temples, and destroyed our monuments. Why would they care about a star?"


    "If they didn''t care, they wouldn''t have bothered," Ryang replied.


    Ryang turned to Seong. "The Dahn court distrusts its own people," he said. "They''ve surely seen the star, recalled the prophecy. They''ll investigate and attempt to quell any unrest among the people. And they''ll use their favored methods."


    Seong''s eyes narrowed. "You think they''ll send troops?"


    "It''s a possibility," Ryang replied.


    "High Councilor, keep a watchful eye on Sunyahng," Seong ordered.


    "Of course, Your Luminance." Ryang bowed his head in acknowledgement.


    Seong turned to Norahn. "I believe Sahngjon will guide us," he said. "But the High Councilor''s concerns are valid. We must prepare. High Emissary Divine, tend to your health. Sahngjon''s light has manifested within you. You must protect it."


    "As you wish, Your Luminance," Norahn replied, bowing his head respectfully.


    Seong rose from his seat. The assembled leaders bowed their heads as he made his way out of the chamber. In the sudden quiet, Norahn approached Ryang, offering a conciliatory bow.


    "I apologize for the Second Emissary''s insolence," he said. "He''s not always... receptive to my guidance."


    "It''s of no consequence," Ryang replied. "Such insubordination is commonplace. We''ve already begun preparations for the funeral rites. I''ll do my best, though I doubt I can match your expertise. Focus on your search. Did you encounter any Dahnian soldiers from Hyangdo on the coast?"


    "Why your concern for Dahn?" Norahn asked.


    "They are our enemy," Ryang stated simply.


    Norahn''s lips curled into a subtle smile. "The enemies of Sahngjon are our enemies," he said. "And Sahngjon''s enemy is unfaith."


    Ryang remained silent. Norahn bowed his head once more.


    "I''ll take my leave."


    He turned and exited the hall, Cheongro and Sobi following closely behind. Ryang stood alone, his voice a low murmur as he repeated Norahn''s words.


    "Unfaith is the enemy?"

 The Crimson Star (12)

    Cheon Hwan stood on the deck of the Black Wings, his gaze fixed on the ominous crimson star blazing in the night sky. Even Jang¡¯gyeong Yoon''s hurried approach did little to distract him from the celestial phenomenon.


    "Do you think this could be the star from the Azure Scripture?" Hwan asked. "Am I wrong to hope?"


    They had sailed the seas for many years, the constellations their constant companions. This crimson star, however, was an anomaly, its presence unsettling. Yoon''s thoughts also drifted towards the verses of the Azure Scripture, but he couldn''t offer Hwan any certainty.


    "Let us observe further," he said cautiously. "The star is still distant. If it is indeed the prophesied star, it will draw closer to land."


    Hwan remained silent. Yirahng spoke up.


    "If that''s the star, what happens then? Do we return to Wicheong?"


    Hwan shook his head. "We go to Sunyahng. The capital of Wi."


    "But we have nothing but the Black Wings. How can we return to Sunyahng?"


    "Sahngjon will provide," Hwan replied.


    Hwan''s gaze remained fixed on the star, its crimson light growing more intense with each passing moment. He and his crew waited, their anticipation mirroring that of their ancestors who had gazed upon the same celestial phenomenon countless years ago. The star hung motionless. As the night deepened, the crew grew weary, their necks stiff from craning upwards, their eyes burning from the strain. Just as their excitement began to wane, the star''s light flared, a sudden surge of brilliance that jolted them awake. It pulsed with an unstable energy, its fiery glow casting an eerie light across the deck. Those who had momentarily looked away snapped their attention back to the sky. The star was descending, its movement swift and deliberate. Its trajectory seemed to converge on a single point: the Black Wings.


    "It seems to be heading towards us," Yirahng murmured with a hint of unease.


    Hwan''s hand tightened around her shoulder tightly. Yirahng was right. The star was descending upon them, its fiery glow painting the sky in shades of crimson. The faces of the crew were bathed in its ominous light. It grew larger, closer, a fiery mass hurtling towards them.


    Yoon''s voice was sharp with panic. "Shouldn''t we move? Shouldn''t we try to evade it?"


    But Hwan remained calm. "There''s nowhere to run," he said flatly.


    "Guardian, at this rate..." Yoon''s urgent warning was cut short as the star directly overhead erupted in a blinding flash, a deafening roar shaking the very foundations of the ship. The sea churned, and the Black Wings lurched violently, nearly capsizing. Hwan, blinded by the intense light, barely managed to grab Yirahng and steady himself against the railing. Those caught off guard stumbled and fell, some crashing against the deck.


    As the tremors subsided, the ship regained its equilibrium, the blinding light fading to a single point in the sky. Hwan looked up, his eyes widening in awe. Where the fiery mass had been, a white sphere now hung suspended, its luminescence casting an ethereal glow upon the deck. It hovered close, almost within reach.


    Then, it began to descend, its trajectory shifting just enough to miss the Black Wings before plunging into the sea. Water sprayed across the deck, the ship rocking precariously. They waited, their breaths held, until the vessel steadied once more. The crew rushed to the railing, their gazes peering into the depths where the sphere had vanished. The sea was dark, its surface calm, the only sound the gentle lapping of waves against the hull.


    "Is that it?" Yirahng asked.


    "Patience," Hwan said.


    A moment later, a faint glow emanated from the depths, rising slowly towards the surface. Hwan narrowed his eyes, watching intently. A familiar form emerged from the water, its outline illuminated by the ethereal light.


    "It''s a person," Hwan breathed, his voice barely a whisper.


    A wave of excited chatter erupted across the deck. Hwan raised his voice above the commotion.


    "Don''t just stand there! Retrieve it!"


    Keumpyeong Hui directed the crew. Several sailors tossed ropes into the churning sea, then dove in after them. They reached the floating figure, securing the ropes and hauling her back towards the ship.


    The figure, once aboard, was revealed to be a woman. They laid her gently on the deck. She was unconscious, her breathing shallow. The torchlight illuminated her pale skin, her lips tinged with blue from the cold seawater. The radiant glow that had surrounded her in the depths now faded, leaving her vulnerable and still. The crew hesitated. Yirahng cautiously approached, her eyes widening as she took in her features.


    "How can someone be so beautiful?" she said. "I''ve never seen anything like it."


    Those gathered around shared her astonishment. Her beauty was undeniable, her features striking and unique. Even without the ethereal glow that had surrounded her in the water, she would have commanded attention, her presence captivating. Hwan observed her in silence.Stolen story; please report.


    "Was she inside the sphere?" Yoon asked.


    Hwan remained silent, his gaze fixed on the woman. Her long, dark hair fanned out across the deck, seaweed tangled within its strands, her stillness a stark contrast to the chaos that had just transpired.


    "Take her to my cabin," he commanded. "Warm her. And move the ship further out to sea."


    "Yes, Guardian."


    The crew bowed their heads and scurried to obey. Hwan watched them disappear down the hatch, then turned to Yirahng.


    "Yirahng."


    "What?"


    "Go with them," Hwan said. "Find some dry clothes for her."


    Yirahng hesitated, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. "Fine," she grumbled, then reluctantly followed the crew below deck.


    Hwan leaned against the railing. The deck remained in a state of controlled chaos. The crew members, their faces etched with a mixture of awe and apprehension, stole glances at their leader, seeking answers in his silence. But Hwan had none to offer. The darkness seemed to stretch endlessly, the horizon swallowed by the night.


    Yoon approached. "Can we finally believe that what we saw was the star from the Azure Scripture?" he asked.


    "I still can''t believe my eyes," Hwan murmured.


    Yoon was surprised by his leader''s uncharacteristic uncertainty. Hwan''s shoulders slumped, his usual confidence replaced by a quiet vulnerability.


    "We all feel the same," Yoon reassured him.


    "The Emissaries always interpreted the Guardian Crimson as a person," Hwan said, "but I never imagined a woman falling from the sky."


    Cheon Hwan conjured the woman''s image in his mind. Though her true nature remained a mystery, her extraordinary appearance seemed a fitting match for the crimson star.


    "In a way, it''s a relief," Yoon said.


    Hwan turned to him. "A relief?"


    "The star fell right before our eyes. Why here, in this vast ocean? It confirms our belief. The true successor wasn''t Cheon Seong, but the Guardian. Wi will be revived by your hand."


    Hwan smiled thinly. "You doubted your choice, then?"


    "Guardian, that''s not what I..." Yoon stammered.


    Hwan turned back towards the sea. "It doesn''t matter," he said. "It''s my fault if you doubted me."


    "Guardian, I never doubted you," Yoon said earnestly. "Not for a moment. Believe me."


    Hwan offered a cryptic smile. Yoon''s gaze lingered on Hwan''s face, finally noticing the fresh scratches.


    "Guardian," he asked cautiously, "what happened to your face?"


    Hwan chuckled. "Who else could have done this?"


    "Perhaps you''re being too lenient with Yirahng," Yoon said. "She tends to overstep her boundaries."


    Hwan''s smile vanished, his voice hardening. "It is you who oversteps."


    Yoon quickly lowered his head. "My apologies, Guardian."


    He paused, his gaze lingering on Hwan''s wounds. "Perhaps you should return to your cabin and attend the Guardian Crimson," he suggested. "We don''t know when she''ll awaken. You should be the first to greet her."


    "Indeed," Hwan agreed. "Remain on the Black Wings. Entrust the captured vessel to Hui."


    "As you wish, Guardian."


    Leaving Yoon on deck, Hwan descended into the cabin. The sudden shift in events, the unexpected encounter with the divine, left him feeling disoriented. He entered the cabin, finding Yirahng gazing intently at the woman''s face.


    "Is she so fascinating?" Hwan asked.


    Yirahng, her eyes still fixed on the woman, replied, "A woman fell from the sky, engulfed in flames. Wouldn''t you be curious?"


    Hwan chuckled at his lover''s childlike wonder. "Indeed, it is quite a sight."


    Yirahng turned to him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "She''s beautiful, isn''t she?"


    Hwan frowned. "Where did you learn such impertinence?"


    "Just a question," Yirahng countered with a shrug. "No need to get your feathers ruffled."


    "Leave us for a moment," Hwan said.


    "No," Yirahng replied flatly.


    Hwan sighed. "There''s no need for concern," he said. "I must watch over her until she awakens. No one else."


    "Why?" Yirahng challenged. "Is she the mother of all mankind?"


    "It''s the prophecy," Hwan said wearily.


    "Are you sure she''s the Guardian Crimson?"


    "We both saw her fall from the sky," Hwan said, his irritation growing. "Don''t be difficult."


    Hwan''s brow furrowed, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face at Yirahng''s blatant display of possessiveness. But he held his tongue, his gaze fixed on Yirahng, a silent challenge in his eyes. Yirahng, after a prolonged standoff, finally relented, rising from her seat. She glared at Hwan.


    "Touch her, and I''ll kill you both," she said.


    "As you wish," Hwan replied.


    Yirahng stormed out, slamming the cabin door behind him. Hwan settled into the vacated seat, his gaze fixed on the woman lying motionless on the bed. She was still unconscious, her breathing shallow, her skin pale and lifeless. He couldn''t imagine her waking, her voice breaking the silence, her eyes revealing the secrets hidden within. Yirahng had been consumed by jealousy, envious of her flawless beauty, but Hwan found her perfection unsettling. She seemed almost unreal, a porcelain doll rather than a living being. He felt the weight of the dagger concealed within his robes. He wondered if she would bleed like any other human, if her skin would yield to the sharp blade.


    He waited. The cabin, with its windows tightly shut, offered no indication of the passing hours. Dawn must be approaching, he thought, his eyelids growing heavy. Just as fatigue threatened to consume him, the woman stirred. Her eyelashes fluttered, her body shifting beneath the covers. Hwan held his breath.


    He held his breath as her eyelids slowly lifted, revealing clear, captivating eyes that blinked a few times before settling on him. As she awakened, her presence seemed to intensify, her form taking on an almost ethereal quality. She rose from the bed, her gaze piercing, holding him captive. Her eyes, filled with an elegant strength, searched his face, lingering on every scar and line etched by time and hardship. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft rhythm of their breathing. Then, her voice, cool and clear, cut through the quiet.


    "The eyes of a king you have."


    Her words ignited a spark within Hwan.