Seolyo Yeong was incinerated in an instant where he stood. Only a smattering of ash and soot remained on the dirt floor where he had prostrated himself. Hwan's judgment had been swift. There was no loyalty to claim from Yeong, for it had never existed to begin with. Hwan felt nothing after effortlessly erasing the name of House Seolyo, a lineage that had guarded Nahmgyo for a thousand years.
As he turned, those frozen in shock simultaneously fell to the ground, trembling. Inhaling the acrid, scorching stench of burnt flesh, the minds and bodies of the subjugated were saturated with terror. Seong's flames they knew had only warmed their hearths and brought smiles to their children; to witness that familiar flame reduce a man to ashes was a horror beyond their comprehension. The myriad ripples of hope and anxiety that greeted his arrival were instantly consumed by a single, chilling dread.
His verdict was a mere afterthought to the execution, delivered with chilling indifference.
"I have no patience for traitors," he declared. "And I certainly cannot allow a wretch who murders his own mother to govern the holy city of Sahngjon under my name."
Cheongro, a traitor himself, lay prostrate, trembling in silence. Hwan looked down at his cowering back.
"Second Emissary, rise," he commanded.
Cheongro forced his stiff body upward, cold sweat streaming down his face. Hwan calmly observed the obsequious fear before resting a hand on Cheongro's shoulder.
"I do not shed blood without reason," Hwan said softly. "Why should an Emissary of Sahngjon cower before the Guardian?"
Cheongro managed a feeble twitch of a smile, but his eyes dared not meet Hwan's gaze. Hwan withdrew his hand and swept his gaze over Cheongro and the surrounding Emissaries.
"The Ministry's resentment, accumulated while navigating the whims of House Myeonghyeon, must be considerable. You need not speak of it; I know. Once all four cities of Birahng are reclaimed, I will decide who shall govern them before we cross the South Sea. Until then, I leave Nahmgyo in the Ministry's hands."
Cheongro threw himself to the ground once more, his voice tight.
"May the light of Sahngjon illuminate the Guardian."
Before Cheongro could even finish speaking, Hwan strode past his bowed head and entered the city. As he made his way from the south gate to the government office, he observed Nahmgyo. It appeared more prosperous than the night he last left Birahng. Though the streets were relatively quiet—the onset of autumn and Birahng's unrest keeping many merchants at bay—every long avenue stretching before him was densely lined with houses and shops, leaving barely an empty plot in sight. Yet, to Hwan, who had spent the last summer immersed in the opulence of Ju, Nahmgyo's splendor felt like a mere shadow of Sunyahng.
Once settled in the government office, Hwan received a full report from Cheongro detailing the aftermath of the Wi uprising and the relocation of Cheon Seong and House Myeonghyeon to Hyangdo. The account was carefully woven with deceit; Cheongro smoothly masked the truth behind the decapitated messengers sent from Hyangdo, attributing their gruesome return to Hyangdo's senseless defiance.
Hwan listened, offering only a brief assessment.
"It seems our stay in Birahng will be longer than planned."
"If I may ask, what prompts such an assessment?" Jahan asked.
"I visited Hyangdo once with Ryang," Hwan recalled. "He went on at length about what my uncle had told him—it stuck with me. The founder of Dahn poured all his resources into building that fortress to overshadow Nahmgyo. Even with a superior force, it will not fall easily."
Jahan frowned slightly. "But Hyangdo commands little presence within the Hundred Isles, Your Majesty."
"Because there's nothing there worth the plunder," Hwan stated flatly.
At the word 'plunder,' the Soyeolish commanders exchanged uneasy glances, but the tension belonged solely to them. Hwan abruptly shifted his focus.
"Second Emissary. Where is Jang'gyeong Yoon?"
Just as only the Soyeolish grasped the humiliation in the word 'plunder,' only the Emissaries could smell the blood lingering in his question. A thick tension swelled in the room, woven from their mutual ignorance. Cheongro bowed deeper.
"He was moved to Hyangdo last summer, along with Keumpyeong Yu."
Hwan let out a short, cold laugh. Such meticulousness—keeping a traitor far from the Ministry—was not in Seong's nature; he was certain it had been Ryang's doing. The matters that truly required his attention weren't here in Nahmgyo, which he had entered without shedding a drop of blood, but locked away behind the gates of Hyangdo. Having no further questions, Hwan rose from his seat.
"I shall rest for today. Years on the sea don't make the voyage any less wearying. Order the soldiers to disembark and rest freely within the city, save for the sentries. However, make sure to curb any excessive indulgence. Sahngjon's sacred land must not be defiled."
With the vassals' submission, the Soyeolish flooded into Nahmgyo like an incoming tide. Hwan had secured a bloodless landing on Birahng under the noble guise of brotherhood, yet his men harbored no such fraternal warmth for the people of Nahmgyo. Soyeolish soldiers packed the city's inns and taverns, acting not as patrons but as an occupying army, treading a perilous line just short of defying Hwan's strict decrees. Tavern keepers trembled, terrified that the endless flow of liquor might suddenly turn into a river of blood. The women of the brothels, forced to endure the lust of men inflamed by long sea voyages, were left utterly drained before the night even deepened, with nowhere to hide. Commoners bolted their doors, not daring to step into their own courtyards. Nahmgyo, a city unaccustomed to conquest, suffocated under the weight of its occupiers. The banquet celebrating this bloodless victory belonged to Soyeol alone.
The streets were chaotic enough to mask any Emissary's transgressions, but Cheongro remained barricaded in his quarters, drinking alone. Amidst the drunken fog, Cheongro found himself reflecting on the memories of Hwan he had painstakingly reassembled during the preparations for his arrival. Hwan had been a pretty boy with almost divine martial prowess, someone who would quietly lead a handful of followers out of Wicheong to parts unknown. He spoke little, but his piercing, youthful gaze could not conceal his rebellious spirit; even Norahn, the High Emissary Divine, had found him challenging. Having lacked any meaningful interaction with Hwan, Cheongro had vaguely dismissed it as the mere defiance of an immature youth. That was the sum of his memories, and his fatal miscalculation. Despite their forced companionship in youth, Hwan had ultimately become the very enemy of Ryang, who was now entrenched in Hyangdo. Cheongro's certainty—that he could wield this stronger lord against their common enemy as a weapon for the Ministry—had crumbled pathetically before Hwan's flames.
The door creaked open unannounced, startling Cheongro. Recognizing Gyuhwa, he let out a long sigh and lowered his gaze back to his cup. Gyuhwa took a seat opposite him, her words designed to prod at his festering anxiety.
"Wondering what you've done, aren't you?" she said.
"Why the fuck are you here?" Cheongro snapped back in irritation, glaring.
"Heart bleeding for the commoners under those swarming Seals? Need a drink to stomach it?"
"I don't give a fuck what those bastards do."
Gyuhwa scoffed at Cheongro's grand expectations, which had curdled into terror in a single day.
"Did you not see Sobi return under sails made of flayed human skin?" she sneered. "Did you really think you could play a man who butchered Myeonghyeon Seung, his own father figure? If you thought a soft kid like Cheon Seong could swallow Soyeol whole and crown himself king, you're a complete idiot."
Cheongro couldn't even muster a glare against her mockery. He merely sighed, emptying his cup.
"We saw it today," Gyuhwa lowered her voice, leaning in closer. "It's crystal clear now. Cheon Seong cannot defeat Cheon Hwan. No one can. He is invincible. All we need to do is endure him, and the rest won't matter. The Guardian of the Azure Scripture requires the High Emissary and the Ministry. And you are the Second Emissary. What's there to fear?"
Cheongro let out a bitter laugh.
"He also needed Nahmgyo. And look what happened to the Seolyo boy."
"Think about the sheer number of Soyeolish lords Hwan dragged in," Gyuhwa countered calmly. "Someone had to be tossed Nahmgyo as a bone, didn't they? He never intended to let Seolyo Yeong live in the first place. But we are different. We are irreplaceable."
"Necessity or political alternatives are hardly his priority," Cheongro muttered.
His terror refused to subside. Gyuhwa snatched his cup and wet her own throat.
"And we hardly have any alternatives left," she replied.
Gyuhwa's departure offered neither solace nor a solution. Left alone, Cheongro simply continued to fill and empty his cup, the hours slipping away. As the night deepened, the potent liquor saturated his senses. A suffocating heat rose within him, desperately craving the chill of the night air. He stumbled toward the door and pushed it open, but the moment his foot crossed the threshold, he froze. A hoarse whisper slipped past his numb lips.
"Guardian... no, Your Majesty."
Cheon Hwan stood alone in the center of the rear garden, devoid of any escort. Had word reached him? Did he know I was the one who incited Seolyo Yeong to poison his own mother? In the dim light, Hwan's profile appeared almost sorrowful, yet the sight only fueled Cheongro's frantic need to decipher the man's true intentions. Forcing his swaying body to steady, Cheongro closed the distance between them. He awkwardly clasped his hands and offered a deep bow.
"What brings you..." he stammered. "Are there any urgent orders for me?"
Slowly, Hwan turned to face him. His gaze swept over Cheongro with chilling indifference before he finally spoke.
"I frequented this place when I was younger. I merely wondered if it remained unchanged," Hwan said softly. "Are you occupying Ryang's chamber?"
"The High Emissary resides in his chamber. It sits empty at present, as he is detained in Hyangdo."
"You refer to my uncle's," Hwan noted. "Before his death, the room you just stepped out of belonged to Ryang. To think he stubbornly claimed the very space where his father was beheaded, simply by right of being the eldest son. Such unwavering, foolish devotion."
The casual reminiscence, falling from the lips of the man who had orchestrated that very death, sent a jolt of terror through Cheongro's clouded mind. What sudden nostalgia had driven Hwan here in the dead of night, spouting such macabre sentiments? Swallowing his unease, Cheongro asked cautiously.
"Is there something you seek, Your Majesty? House Myeonghyeon's belongings were entirely cleared out the day they relocated to Hyangdo."
Hwan let the silence stretch before abruptly changing the subject.
"Drinking is forbidden for Emissaries," he warned. "Has the Scripture been rewritten in my absence?"
The sudden shift in tone extinguished any lingering irritation in Cheongro's mind, replacing it with a cold dread. Unable to mask the pungent stench of liquor clinging to his body, he stammered.
"Your Majesty, that is..."
"Perhaps Seong and Norahn were weak enough to turn a blind eye to such transgressions, but I am not," Hwan declared. "Soyeol holds the Emissaries in high regard. I will not tolerate any act that shatters that faith."
The chilling warning brought the horrific memory of Hwan's scorching flames flashing back before Cheongro's eyes. Paralyzed, he swallowed the protest burning on his tongue—that the discipline of the Ministry was the High Emissary's sole jurisdiction. He dared not speak. Hwan then delivered an order Cheongro could never have anticipated.
"I shall designate a new residence for the Ministry within a few days. Have the Myeonghyeon estate vacated by tonight."
Cheongro's head snapped up in sheer disbelief.
"Pardon?"
"Did the Emissaries serving Sahngjon truly see no issue residing a mere wall away from Yeonyahng?"
Terrified that his drunken stupor might betray the resentment boiling within him, Cheongro quickly bowed his head again, averting his gaze. He had no choice but to submit.
"It shall be done immediately."
Without another word, Hwan strode past him and vanished through the rear gate. The faint, rhythmic clinking of armor faded into the distance, revealing that his guards had been waiting just outside the walls all along. Only when the garden was left to the solitary chirping of autumn insects did Cheongro finally exhale, releasing the breath that had been suffocating him to the brink of madness.
"Fuck. What the hell is his problem?"