At dawn, Kang-dae returned to the King's chambers to report on the Daesagan's condition.
The moment he heard the physician's assessment, the King demanded to be taken to Jun-ho at once.
When he entered the chamber and saw the young nobleman's deathly pallor, his expression changed. He stepped closer to the bedside and looked to the physician.
"Can he speak? Is he strong enough to tell us what happened?"
At the sound of the King's voice, Jun-ho stirred.
His eyelids struggled open.
"Yes…"
The word barely escaped him.
"Your Majesty…"
He tried to push himself upright against the blankets, but a low groan slipped through his clenched teeth. The physician immediately pressed a firm hand to his shoulder.
"You must not rise, my lord," he warned. "The fever has not broken. Your wounds have been cleaned and bound, but we still cannot know whether they will heal without complication."
He glanced toward the King.
"It would be wiser to wait until tomorrow."
The King and Kang-dae exchanged a silent look.
Neither needed to speak. Jun-ho's condition was far worse than either had hoped.
Reluctantly, they turned toward the door.
They had almost crossed the threshold when a faint whisper broke the stillness behind them.
The physician bent closer to Jun-ho.
Then he abruptly raised his head.
"Did you hear that?"
He leaned nearer to the wounded man.
"What are you trying to say?"
Jun-ho's lips moved again.
His pulse was weak, his body utterly exhausted, yet somehow he forced the words through.
"The palace…"
His breath caught.
"…is in danger."
The physician turned sharply.
"Your Majesty—with all respect, you need to hear this."
The King spun around and hurried back to the bedside.
Kang-dae followed.
Jun-ho fought to keep his eyes open. Every breath seemed to demand more strength than he had left.
"You must…"
His voice faltered.
The King leaned closer.
"You must reach the palace…"
Jun-ho swallowed painfully.
"…within three days."
The instant the final words left his lips, the last of his strength abandoned him.
His head fell heavily to one side.
The physician reached for him at once.
But Jun-ho had already lost consciousness.
A cold, absolute silence descended over the chamber.
Three days.
Whatever awaited them in Hanyang, the Daesagan had nearly died trying to warn them of it.
The King returned to his chambers with Kang-dae at his side.
Once inside, the monarch lowered himself behind the wooden table and sank into thought.
Several minutes passed.
Neither man spoke.
Only the wind could be heard scraping against the temple windows.
At last, Kang-dae broke the silence.
"Your Majesty… what would you have us do?"
The King raised his eyes.
Weariness shadowed his face, but his gaze remained sharp.
"Do you still have contact with men loyal to the kingdom?"
Kang-dae remained silent.
The King continued.
"Men as loyal as you have been…"
His voice softened almost imperceptibly.
"…and as your father was."
The mention of his father struck deeper than Kang-dae allowed his face to reveal.
He lowered his head.
"Your Majesty, that is difficult for me to answer. Min destroyed most of the men I trusted."
He paused.
"But I can leave for the capital immediately. I can find out whether there are still soldiers willing to defend the kingdom."
"We have only three days," the King interrupted firmly. "There is no time to send scouts ahead and wait for their return."
His expression hardened.
"We need a plan now."
Kang-dae hesitated before stepping forward.
"Your Majesty, with respect, you have not recovered enough to endure the journey back to the capital."
The King remained silent.
"In your present condition, I doubt you could withstand the journey on horseback. We do not have enough men to protect you, and we have no way of knowing what ambushes Min may have waiting along the road."
Kang-dae's gaze grew grave.
"The Daesagan is badly wounded. His recovery will take time. All we have are the few words he managed to whisper before losing consciousness. We still have no idea how far the situation inside the palace has deteriorated."
For several moments, the King merely studied him.
The weight of Kang-dae's words settled over the room.
But rather than weakening the monarch's resolve, they seemed to sharpen it.
Slowly, the King slipped a hand inside the folds of his silk robes.
He withdrew a small carved object wrapped in crimson silk and placed it on the table before Kang-dae.
Then he unfolded the cloth.
A bronze command token lay beneath it, portions of its surface gilded and engraved with the private insignia of the royal house.
Kang-dae's eyes fixed upon it.
He immediately understood that the object before him carried an authority far greater than its size suggested.
"Min believes he has cornered the Crown because he dismantled the Royal Guard and hunted down your men," the King said, his voice low and steady.
His fingers rested beside the token.
"What Min does not understand is that this kingdom is not defended solely by the swords patrolling the gates of Hanyang."
Kang-dae stared at the royal insignia.
"This token," the King continued, "does not summon an army under the authority of the State Council."
He looked directly at Kang-dae.
"It summons a hidden royal guard stationed in Gyeonggi Province, beyond the capital. Men selected in secrecy and sworn to defend the Crown directly, beyond the command of the Ministry of War."
Kang-dae looked up sharply.
"Your Majesty… if that garrison remains intact—"
"It does."
The King's answer came without hesitation.
"Because no one at court knows it exists. Not even old Yi. Not Min's faction."
For the first time, the balance of power seemed to shift.
But the King's expression remained grave.
"We cannot rely on force alone. If we march openly toward the gates of Hanyang with soldiers behind us, we will ignite a civil war before we ever cross the outer walls."
Kang-dae slowly nodded.
"We need to enter without Min's sentries raising the alarm."
A moment of silence passed.
Then the pieces began to fall into place.
"The Sandaenori," Kang-dae said.
The King watched him carefully.
"The traveling performers Haneul has ties to. Their caravans can move through the roads surrounding Hanyang without attracting suspicion."
Kang-dae stepped closer to the table.
"Min's guards will pay little attention to entertainers and musicians passing through the roads into the capital. While they create a disturbance in the outer markets, Your Majesty's hidden guard can secure the underground passages leading into the palace."
The King looked down at the command token.
Then back at Kang-dae.
"We will not wait until dawn."
Kang-dae's brow tightened.
"Your Majesty?"
"Tomorrow will already be too late."
The King's voice hardened.
"Every hour we remain in this temple is another hour we give Min to tighten his grip on the capital."
He leaned forward.
"The three-day countdown does not begin tomorrow, Kang-dae."
His gaze did not waver.
"It began the moment the Daesagan collapsed at our feet."
Silence.
"You leave today."
The order landed with finality.
"Before nightfall."
Kang-dae held his sovereign's gaze.
The weight of time pressed heavily against his shoulders, but determination burned in his eyes.
"Understood, Your Majesty."
He bowed deeply.
"I will take the command token and leave immediately. I will contact the hidden guard outside the capital and coordinate our movements with the Sandaenori."
He straightened.
"I will leave my two most experienced men behind to secure the temple perimeter, protect Your Majesty, and watch over the Daesagan."
The King gathered the crimson cloth and carefully wrapped the bronze token once more.
Then he placed it into Kang-dae's hand.
"May Heaven protect your path, Kang-dae."
His fingers released the token.
"We will meet outside Hanyang before the deadline expires."
Kang-dae bowed once more.
Then he turned and left.
He moved quickly through the wooden corridor, the bronze token hidden beneath his robes, its weight against his chest a constant reminder of how little time remained.
But as he passed the pavilion where Haneul was recovering, his steps slowed.
Only for a moment.
His eyes settled on the paper door, softly illuminated from within.
He knew he should not enter.
He could not afford to hesitate now.
And he could not allow himself to break the distance he had established between them at such painful cost.
The door remained closed.
So did he.
Just then, Haneul's momjong emerged carrying a bowl of water.
She stopped when she saw him standing in the corridor.
"Bujang…"
She bowed respectfully.
Kang-dae did not cross the threshold.
He kept his eyes on the servant, forcing his voice into the firm, neutral tone of an officer.
"How is she?"
A brief pause.
"Has her condition improved?"
"The fever has finally broken, my lord," the young woman replied softly. "She is still very weak… and her spirits remain low. But the physician says the greatest danger has passed."
Kang-dae slowly released the breath he had been holding.
Something tightened painfully in his chest.
But knowing Haneul would be safe within the temple gave him the only comfort he could afford to carry into the mission ahead.
"Make certain she remains in her room," he said. "Take good care of her."
His hand tightened around the hilt of the sword at his waist.
"And no one is to know where I am going."
The momjong looked at him, perhaps expecting something more.
There was nothing.
Kang-dae did not ask to see Haneul.
He did not send a message.
He did not allow himself one final glance toward the paper door.
Before the servant could answer, he turned away.
His footsteps quickened as he crossed the darkened courtyard.
Behind him lay the woman he had nearly lost.
Ahead of him waited a hidden army, a capital slipping into Min's hands, and a road from which he might never return.
Still, Kang-dae never looked back.
He left the temple behind and disappeared into the darkness, taking the northern road toward Hanyang.