The words struck Manny like ice. His body stiffened, and he snapped to attention, knees trembling.
"Y-yes, Boss! I—I will deliver it immediately!"
Without another word, he spun on his heel, the morning dew slipping beneath his feet, and bolted down the jagged mountain trail, a cloud of dust and loose stones rising behind him.
Teel's gaze returned to the distant rabbit, sharp and unwavering, a predator's focus. In the quiet that followed, his mind was cold and precise.
'Today marks the end of your fate as well.'
He drew the bowstring with the ease of countless years spent in battle, the wood singing under his touch.
Thwip!
The arrow arced cleanly through the pale dawn, striking the rabbit in mid-leap.
Thud.
The creature collapsed into the thicket, its struggle over before it began. Teel's eyes, unblinking and unyielding, lingered on the fallen animal. There was no triumph, no sorrow—only the unflinching serenity of a man who measured life and death with unwavering clarity.
Around him, the mountain held its breath, the wind rustling through pine and stone, as if bearing witness to the merciless calm of its fiercest son.
Manny stumbled down the narrow mountain path, breath ragged and heart pounding, each step threatening to send him tumbling over the jagged stones. In the distance, he finally saw them: the deputy commander and the Queen's warriors, their banners snapping in the morning wind, the glint of polished armor catching the pale light of dawn.
Before them, the bandits had formed a rough line, axes raised in defiance, bodies taut with readiness. Their shouts cut through the crisp air, echoing across the cliffs as if daring any intruder to approach.
"Wait!!!" Manny cried, voice hoarse from the climb.
Both the warriors and the bandits turned their heads sharply, eyes narrowing at the interruption.
Panting, Manny forced his way through the tense line of bandits and came to a stumbling halt before the deputy commander. The man's gaze was firm, unwavering.
"Her Majesty is waiting," the deputy commander said, his voice low but commanding. "Call your boss at once."
Manny winced, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple.
"Ah… well, the thing is…"
He cast a nervous glance back at the bandits. They were ready for battle, axes gripped like extensions of their own arms, muscles coiled and waiting. Some scowled at him with such pure contempt that Manny felt smaller than a sparrow beneath their gaze—as if to silently scorn, 'How did this fool ever become the boss's right hand?'
After a long, hesitant pause, Manny finally muttered, voice trembling.
"If… if you wish to meet the Boss… Her Majesty will… will have to come up herself…"
The deputy commander's face hardened instantly, the color draining from his cheeks as fury burned in his eyes.
"How dare you issue commands to Her Majesty!" he roared, voice like a war drum echoing through the valley. "Tell your boss to come down here at once!"
At his shout, the bandits tensed, stepping forward, weapons raised and ready to strike. Their eyes gleamed with the promise of violence.
The Queen's warriors mirrored the motion, hands tightening around their sword hilts, armor creaking with coiled readiness. The mountain air itself seemed to hold its breath, the cliffs trembling under the weight of impending confrontation.
And then—
"I shall go myself."
The voice rang out, clear and commanding, cutting through the morning air like a polished blade. Every head turned—bandits and warriors alike—drawn to the sound as if the mountains themselves had spoken.
Queen Genie appeared on horseback, her presence a force that seemed to bend the wind around her. She rode with a serene authority, yet each movement carried the weight of absolute command. Behind her, Jade and the Queen's elite warriors followed, their horses climbing the rugged mountain path with steady, disciplined rhythm, hooves clattering against the stones.
The bandits faltered, uncertainty flashing across their hardened faces. Axes wavered mid-lift as they hastily shifted into defensive formation, sensing an aura far greater than the man they had prepared to challenge.
The deputy commander's breath caught, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Y-Your Majesty! Why have you come up here yourself?"
Queen Genie's gaze swept over the bandits, then softened slightly as she addressed Manny. She reined in her horse before the rough line of men
"Then it is enough if I go directly to where your leader is?"
Manny's knees threatened to buckle at the sight of her. His heart hammered in his chest. Her wide, commanding eyes seemed to pierce through the very air, full lips curved with subtle authority, and her hair flowed like black silk past her chest. She was far more beautiful, far younger than he had imagined—and yet, it was not mere beauty that struck him, but an intangible majesty that made the world around her seem smaller.
Unable to meet her gaze, Manny lowered his head, voice trembling.
"Th-that will… be acceptable, Your Majesty…"
The bandits' eyes narrowed at him, lips curling in displeasure. Their murmurs of discontent whispered through the ranks.
Queen Genie tugged the reins lightly. The movement was subtle, but it carried the weight of command that brooked no question.
"Clear the path to where your leader awaits."
The mountain seemed to respond in silence, the path opening before her as if yielding to her authority alone. Even the wind stilled, as if to witness the meeting of sovereign and outlaw that was about to unfold.
At her command, the bandits scrambled aside, their axes lowered and bodies pressed against the rough stone walls of the mountain path. The way cleared as if the mountain itself had bowed to her will.
Jade, the deputy commander, and the warriors followed in disciplined silence, their horses moving like shadows behind her, each step measured and precise.
Manny remained frozen in place, eyes wide, chest tight with fear, as the Queen passed before him. Her horse moved with regal grace, her gaze sweeping over him briefly yet piercingly, leaving him rooted as though struck by lightning.
"She's… no ordinary woman…" he whispered, voice trembling.
Even from a distance, the presence she exuded was suffocating in its intensity—an invisible force that pressed upon him from every side. He felt the weight of her authority settle over him like stone, immobilizing him utterly, leaving his body stiff and his mind awash in awe.
The mountain, silent save for the creak of leather and the whisper of hooves, seemed to acknowledge her dominion. Manny could not have moved even if he had wished; the Queen's aura held him captive, a living testament to power tempered with grace.
Meanwhile, within the austere halls of the Ministry of Culture, Minister Han Son and Moonsen sat across a polished wooden table, their faces etched with solemn gravity. The morning light filtered through latticed windows, casting angular shadows that seemed to lean in with the weight of their conversation.
Han Son's eyes narrowed as he spoke, voice low but edged with disbelief.
"So… the leader of the growing bandit force, Teel, is… in truth the son of a government official?"
Moonsen inclined his head, expression grave.
"Yes. We have confirmed it. His father was once Kang Yeong-sik, an official of the Ministry of Land."
"Are you certain of this?" Han Son's tone carried both incredulity and unease, as if the very foundations of the kingdom were suddenly uncertain.
"Absolutely," Moonsen replied, his voice steady. "The records of the dismissed officials, coupled with the documents detailing Teel's upbringing, align without question."
Han Son pressed his lips together, leaning back, eyes clouded with thought.
"Then… how does the son of a government official come to lead bandits and terrorize the countryside?"
Moonsen's gaze dropped to the table, his voice lowering as if speaking too loudly might summon disaster itself.
"This is only speculation," he said cautiously. "Do you recall when the late king purged a great number of corrupt officials during his reign?"
"I remember," Han Son murmured, tension coiling in his chest.
"It seems that Teel's father was among those dismissed and exiled. In that turbulent upheaval, Teel himself came to bear a deep, burning resentment toward the court. Now, having seized power as the leader of the bandits, he wields that strength to threaten the palace itself."
Han Son's brow furrowed so deeply it seemed to carve shadowed lines into his face. The flickering light of the morning seemed insufficient to illuminate the storm of unease gathering within the Ministry walls.
"The son of a dismissed official… rising as a bandit to threaten the state… Why…?" Han Son's voice trailed, heavy with disbelief.
Moonsen lowered his gaze, choosing his words with care.
"Minister… it may be that Teel's father was falsely accused and dismissed from office."
Han Son's eyes widened in shock.
"Dismissed… on false charges?"
Moonsen inclined his head solemnly.
"Yes. Forgive my bluntness, but upon examining the dismissal records, too many inconsistencies emerged. The reasons cited did not align with the actual circumstances of that region, and the process itself appears to have circumvented proper procedure."
Han Son's face darkened as he considered the implications. If that is true… The thought weighed upon him like a stone, cold and unyielding.
Moonsen continued, voice quieter still, almost a whisper to the shadows themselves.
"If my supposition is correct, Teel now seeks vengeance against the court for the injustice done to his father."