“Suddenly, what do you mean by that?”

Hanseol was genuinely surprised when Geom Mugeuk said that she must help her mother. His words implied the presence of a hidden mastermind behind the incident. If the Blood King was targeting Binggung, they had to unite and stop him.

Of course, she couldn’t be told this directly.

“The reason the Binggung Lord accepted the conditions I proposed is because she made a kind of deal with the North Blood Sect. They rescued the second son of the North Blood Sect leader, and received payment accordingly.”

Hanseol could not deny the truth of this.

“We came into Binggung during this situation. Since your mother will be concerned with the North Blood Sect, the idea was that you should handle us.”

Was that really the reason he said it? It felt like there was something more important behind it.

“The Little Pill Master does not need to involve herself in the palace’s affairs.”

“That was said for your sake.”

Hanseol rarely held long conversations with anyone other than her mother.

She usually said only what was necessary—who would dare to speak at length to the Little Pill Master?

But this Little Pill Master kept making her talk. No, she was compelled to talk.

“Why say it was for my sake?”

“Simply because I want to help.”

“There’s no such thing as kindness without reason.”

She said firmly and began walking away.

Receiving kindness was unpleasant, but the situation where one must return kindness after receiving it was even worse. The emotional exchanges between people felt to her like exchanging poisoned daggers.

Geom Mugeuk followed silently behind.

“Why are you following me?”

“You’re not one to overhear, so it’s odd for you to say that.”

Hanseol snapped in irritation.

“Overhearing? I was just—”

“Just?”

“Just waiting for a chance to speak.”

“As with kindness, there’s no grave without an excuse.”

Hanseol made a face of disbelief but resumed walking. She realized it had been a long time since she had gotten so angry. She hated people who toyed with emotions and stirred feelings at their whim.

“Don’t delude yourself into thinking everyone in the world will fall for you. They only pretend to like you because you are the Little Pill Master. If you were a low-ranking martial artist, would they really like you?”

“You’d probably have gotten beaten up a lot for being so talkative as a low-ranking martial artist.”

Hanseol wasn’t joking. She glared fiercely, warning him that he would respond with some ridiculous retort again.

She said no more and continued on her way.

Passing martial artists greeted her respectfully.

She accepted each greeting with the same expressionless face.

Geom Mugeuk couldn’t help but comment.

“Do you always treat your subordinates so strictly?”

“We are martial artists. Why would we expect kindness?”

She stopped in her tracks. Their values were completely different.

“Do those people come here to have fun? Can you order them to go on dangerous missions where their lives are at risk? Would they go willingly?”

Geom Mugeuk said nothing.

“Why so silent?”

“She speaks the truth. What can I say?”

Hanseol fixed him with a last glance before turning away.

“You’ll get beaten up one day, even as the Little Pill Master—not just as a low-ranking martial artist.”

She strode off firmly. From behind, Geom Mugeuk’s voice came.

“Let’s have a drink sometime! Chwima is abstaining, so I can’t drink either! Ian won’t drink either, out of loyalty.”

He kept up that tone to the end. Chwima abstaining? And what? His subordinate won’t drink for loyalty’s sake? So, is he saying he lacks loyalty and wants to drink himself? How much did he want to tease?

She left.

The playful look vanished from Geom Mugeuk’s face.

Knowing he couldn’t get close to her by normal means, he was digging deeper.

His reason wasn’t to brighten her personality or fill the holes in her heart. It was because of her safety and the fate of the North Sea Binggung.

If the Blood King had infiltrated Binggung, surely Hanseol would be targeted as well—or was about to be. That’s how they operated until now.

Geom Mugeuk looked around. The buildings rising tall from this barren land and the massive ice warrior statues reflected the sunlight and gleamed.

‘Blood King, where are you hiding?’

Where is that cruel, crimson blood concealed?

The rooms given by North Sea Binggung numbered three in total.

Geom Mugeuk said to Ian,

“You’ll stay in the middle room.”

“You two will protect me from both sides?”

“To get to eat delicious noodles, we have to protect you.”

Since they didn’t know what was going on at Binggung, they had to be careful. Chwima would protect himself, and if it was only the adjacent rooms, the Heavenly Demon Tiger Body technique of Daeseong would respond.

“Before coming here, I notified Eunwol and Tongcheongak. I requested all available intelligence focus on North Sea Binggung and the North Blood Sect.”

When these two intelligence organizations combine, they become very powerful.

“I think the masterminds behind this are the same as those who conspired within the Martial Alliance and Satan Alliance.”

Chwima and Ian nodded in agreement. They were also active in the New Wind Heaven Sect. It would be strange if they were not at Binggung.

“Since we’ve been hurt before, this is even more dangerous. Be careful, young master!”

“I’m fine; my brother will protect me. Right? Why no answer? I’ll solve it! Why aren’t you replying?”

Geom Mugeuk’s urging was met with Chwima’s evasive tone.

“Ah! I want to drink.”

“Don’t go back to your old ways!”

Watching their conversation, Ian smiled faintly.

She had never imagined Chwima was this kind of person. She feared communicating with someone always drunk. She thought anger would unleash drunken madness.

Above all, she thought he would drown his sadness in alcohol.

But he knew better. Drinking when sad wasn’t true mourning.

He was abstaining from alcohol, calmly watching the world and mastering his own heart. He was comforting himself. To comfort oneself is the only way to truly mourn.

“Be especially careful of the North Blood Sect. They are hiding something from us.”

Ian asked worriedly,

“Won’t they try to destroy all evidence and cut loose ends?”

“They will.”

Geom Mugeuk answered.

“Then should we just stay here?”

“It’s fine. The attempt to cut loose ends will just create more loose ends.”

“Got it.”

Though she replied affirmatively, Ian sighed. She didn’t know exactly how they would deal with it.

She had never fought this kind of battle before.

Masterminds, North Blood Sect, North Sea Binggung.

She felt like she was standing in the middle of an enemy fortress surrounded by terrifying foes.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m nervous.”

But after glancing at the two who would fight alongside her, she added,

“...but pleasantly so.”

The next morning, the investigation into the original lord’s death began in earnest.

Hanseol came to fetch the three personally.

She greeted Geom Mugeuk calmly, as if she hadn’t gotten angry the day before.

“Let me show you the room of the late Original Lord first. The Palace Lord ordered that it not be disturbed, so it’s preserved as it was.”

This was fortunate for the investigation. But why did the Binggung Lord order it left untouched? Because they were close? Or because the Binggung Lord also suspected foul play in the death?

“What was the cause of death?”

Chwima asked.

“She drank poison.”

At the mention of poison, Chwima’s eyes flickered.

“Could it have been murder by poisoning?”

“No, it couldn’t have been. She left a will.”

“May I see it?”

As expected, Hanseol produced the will from her bosom and handed it over.

It contained a confession of how hard life was, apologies to the white snow plain brewers, and a plea for forgiveness for disloyalty to the Binggung Lord.

A trace of something stirred in Chwima’s sad gaze.

“The handwriting was confirmed to be hers in the investigation.”

“Yes, it’s certainly her handwriting.”

Chwima agreed. Having seen her writing more than anyone, he was sure the will wasn’t forged.

“Where did the poison come from?”

“That was not investigated.”

Since it was clear she took her own life, no further inquiry was made.

“What happened to the ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) body?”

“The palace’s warriors buried her in a cemetery for the dead.”

Since she was already buried, they couldn’t test for poison anymore.

Hanseol led the three to the Original Lord’s room.

“I heard she had no family to claim her belongings.”

In that sense, Chwima was the Original Lord’s only family.

They entered the room together.

Chwima paused to mourn.

‘It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, but this is my first time in your room.’

The room was tidy. A small bed by the window fit one person perfectly, with a small desk and chair beside it.

‘You must have sat at that desk writing letters to me.’

The image of her sitting there writing letters filled Chwima’s heart.

The books on the desk were mostly related to alcohol.

Various brewing tools and devices were stacked in the corner, and folded clothes for working were neatly arranged.

The shared feeling was unanimous.

She really only knew about alcohol.

A cabinet against one wall held dozens of bottles of liquor in various shapes.

“Since you collected these separately, they must be rare?”

Chwima didn’t answer—couldn’t answer. Among the bottles were ones he sent her, mixed with common market liquors and rare delicacies she had gathered.

There was more.

Under her desk, Chwima found a box neatly storing the letters she had sent him.

‘She kept them all!’

He didn’t know where the letters he sent her were—some might be lost or hidden somewhere.

But the Original Lord had sorted and kept letters by date.

Chwima took one out and read. It was worn from frequent reading.

‘Ah, this happened.’

He recalled old events. The letter contained stories he barely remembered telling her. His history was contained in those letters.

“May I take the letters we exchanged?”

Chwima asked.

Hanseol answered willingly.

“Please do.”

Filling his chest with the letters, Chwima showed no emotion.

“Now, let’s head to the White Snow Plain.”

The White Snow Plain was bustling.

Workers loaded raw materials onto carts; fermentation and aging rooms were busy; others bottled the finished liquor.

Watching for a moment, a man who was serving as the temporary Original Lord was called over. He was said to be the most trusted by the deceased Original Lord.

“I want to ask about the previous Original Lord.”

“Please, ask.”

“Was there anything strange before her death? Any unusual behavior?”

“No, there was none.”

“Did she have any enemies?”

“The Original Lord was not someone who would fight.”

Others were interviewed too, but there seemed to be no internal conflicts.

Before leaving, Chwima investigated the liquor produced there—the types, schedules, and distribution.

After finishing, the four left the White Snow Plain.

“If it’s clearly suicide, is further investigation necessary?”

If the suicide was confirmed, they had no reason to stay at Binggung.

But Hanseol’s certainty met with Chwima’s even stronger conviction.

“It’s not suicide; we must investigate thoroughly. Binggung will help us more actively.”

Hanseol looked puzzled, and Chwima confidently said,

“In today’s investigation, I found three signs it wasn’t suicide.”

“What signs?”

Not only Hanseol, but also Geom Mugeuk and Ian looked curious.

“Three signs?”

“First, even if it was suicide, she wouldn’t have drunk poison.”

“Maybe she was a lifelong drinker, and so took liquor on her way out?”

Chwima shook his head firmly.

“If I were a drinker, maybe. But she was not a drinker—she was a maker of liquor.”

Still not understanding, Hanseol listened as Chwima explained.

“She would rather have jumped off a cliff than allow poison to mix in the liquor she made. She loved liquor purely.”

Geom Mugeuk understood that feeling.

A warrior might stab himself with his sword, but a swordsmith wouldn’t want to stain his own creation with blood.

“What’s the second reason?”

“I looked at the schedule at the White Snow Plain. Five days after her death, a special ice wine was completed and brought to the palace. This top-grade ice wine can only be made during this period. It is also the most important day of the year for the White Snow Plain. She wouldn’t have left without finishing that last batch.”

Geom Mugeuk and Ian both nodded. Hanseol didn’t outwardly react but found Chwima’s reasoning reasonable. The discovery of the will only deepened the mystery.

“What’s the third reason?”

“That’s the decisive one.”

Chwima spoke quietly, eyes sunken.

“She didn’t leave a will for me.”

He was certain she wouldn’t have left without a word to him.

“She sent me a final message by not leaving a will—asking me to uncover the truth of her unjust death.”

If she had been threatened and expected death, she might have left a last message.

But by leaving no word, she signaled to Chwima that this was not suicide. Such a thing is only possible with deep trust.

“Do you know their mistake? They killed the one who would protect them.”

Chwima slowly stroked the blood vial hanging from his waist.

“The one who would stop me from going mad while drunk.”