The carriage was running toward its destination.

Father closed his eyes gently and said to me,
“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Even with his eyes closed, how could he sense a person’s gaze so well?

“Because I’m happy.”

Father slightly opened his eyes and looked at me.

“I’m not joking. It’s no prank. I really like you very much.”

“You sent a gift to that person?”

“No, you wrote him a letter.”

To Father, a single root of hundred-year-old ginseng was mere pocket change.

But the letter Father wrote himself was priceless.

What moved me most was that I hadn’t told Father to send that gift.

After Im Gye left, I wondered how to persuade Father to help him. But before I could even say a word, Father wrote the letter himself, handed it to Hui, and said,
“Let the branch leader deliver it personally along with a root of hundred-year-old ginseng.”

How could I not be moved?

“You are the best, Father.”

Father said nothing and kept his eyes closed.

Not even taking credit made it even better!

And I could feel it.

In this moment when he was called “the best” by his son, Father was surely happy.

Now I alone could read the slight curve of Father’s lips — that subtle lift was proof he was purely pleased.

Then Father suddenly said,
“It is because of those people that the main sect has endured.”

Yes, Father had his own pride in the sect.

I hoped Father’s feelings had reached them well. I hoped Im Gye’s father had become the best father just like mine.

I stuck my head out the window. Maybe because of the fresh wind, the sky was even bluer and clearer.

“The weather is really nice.”

Glancing back, Father was looking through the opposite window at the sky.

Father, how do you feel? Does the sky here feel different than the sky you saw at Cheonma War?

As the carriage moved away completely from the river, Father suddenly said,
“Let’s have one more fishing contest at that river on the way back. This time, both of us use the fishing rods you made.”

I laughed loudly. It seemed he wanted to win at fishing no matter what. But I couldn’t lose on purpose. Father’s sharpness was no joke — losing intentionally would surely anger him.

“All right. As always, best of three.”

Determination set on Father’s mouth. A resolution to win no matter what.

“Uncle Hui, please stop here for a moment.”

When the moving carriage stopped, I said to Father,
“Would you like to take a walk?”

Without a word, Father got down from the carriage.

“There’s a beautiful waterfall past that forest. Since we’re passing by, let’s go see it.”

Hui stayed to guard the carriage while Father and I walked into the woods together.

“When did you come here last?”

“I discovered it by chance a long time ago.”

I had been here before the regression. I remembered walking this path back then, alone on a snowy trail… Now I was walking this green, lush path with Father, listening to the birds chirp.

Father said nothing but walked calmly, his face peaceful as he looked around. I walked quietly beside him, thinking. The more time I spent with Father, the less awkward silence became.

At the end of the beautiful forest path was the waterfall. It poured down like a silver thread, refreshing anyone who saw it.

Father silently gazed at the waterfall. When was the last time he saw a waterfall outside the sect? It must have been a very long time.

“It’s good.”

That single word said enough. Father was truly satisfied.

“Father.”

“Yes?”

“How were you with your father?”

Father looked at me, surprised by the sudden question.

“I was curious about what kind of man your father was, when he was your son.”

Father’s eyes turned back to the waterfall.

“I feel I could learn a lot from the father who was his son.”

I didn’t know much about how Father got along with his own father.

After a long silence, Father unexpectedly # Nоvеlight # said,
“There are times I regret when I see you.”

I looked at Father. He didn’t explain what he meant, but I knew it meant I was doing well.

We silently watched the waterfall for a while, then walked back the way we came.

After I stopped the carriage once, we traveled about half a day until Father stopped it.

“If you find a quiet place, stop for a bit.”

Hui stopped the carriage in a deserted spot.

“Get down.”

I followed Father off the carriage. Another thing I had hoped to hear from Father on this trip finally came.

“How far have you mastered the Nine Flames Martial Art?”

He meant to teach me more of it. I was so happy I felt like flying.

His words meant more than a hundred days of training.

Quick to notice, Hui vanished at once, hiding in stealth. When teaching Nine Flames Martial Art, he had to stay out of the way and watch from afar.

“I’ve mastered up to the third form, but the third form is still unstable.”

“Try the fourth form.”

In front of Father, I consecutively demonstrated forms one through four of the Nine Flames Martial Art.

A sparkle appeared in Father’s eyes watching me.

He probably hadn’t expected my training through the Heavenly Art to have deepened so much. At times like this, being the Heavenly Mortal was a blessing—it explained my incomprehensibly fast progress.

But Father’s attention was not only on my deep progress.

What mattered more was the difference.

Father’s Nine Flames Martial Art and mine were different.

Even the evil spirits were different. They looked completely unlike Father’s. Not only their forms but how they appeared and disappeared felt different.

Of course, I couldn’t claim my evil spirits were stronger than Father’s.

This difference kept the tension between Father and me alive. It was the driving force that kept bringing the perfected Father back to the training grounds.

“There are times when the third form must be used despite its extreme energy consumption. Do you know when?”

“I think when allies and enemies are mixed.”

Father nodded.

“That’s right. Exactly when you must pick out and kill only enemies. That’s why the fifth form’s accuracy is vital.”

The inaccurate third form would be like a disaster falling from the sky.

“Now, demonstrate it.”

I drew the Black Sword and stepped forward.

“Imagine enemies lined up every five steps, centered thirty paces ahead.”

I pictured the enemies as Father said.

Ten masters lined up before me.

‘One move kills all!’

After steadying my mind, I unleashed the third form, “Jeohon Mageok.”

The sword qi fell roughly where I imagined, but not precisely.

Even from afar, Father accurately noticed the results.

“Your accuracy and depth are inconsistent. Sixth and eighth are shallow, second and third too deep.”

Even close up, only black holes marked the ground, but Father pinpointed the differences from afar. Despite ten sword qi dropping simultaneously, he caught each subtle difference.

Father lectured me on the third form.

His teachings gave me absolute insight and learning.

Father’s explanations were concrete.

I knew better than anyone how difficult the Nine Flames Martial Art was to master.

But Father’s explanation was easy. Concrete and clear, only someone who reached mastery could give such a simple explanation.

Only a true master can explain easily.

Father proved this eternal truth to me.

Of course, the ease hid deep martial logic. Those who didn’t know it might doubt, thinking “Is this all? It’s so easy.” To them, ease is just a vague cloud.

Father explained simply and concretely; I asked specific questions.

Whenever curious, I asked. We asked and answered.

That was our level.

“Now, do it again!”

Father designated where the sword qi should fall.

Ten sword qi fell vertically again.

“Better than before, but still far from perfect.”

Father explained again.

He didn’t give a training that forces deep reflection. That deep thinking was mine alone. What he taught was only the concrete details!

It was like a military instructor training a soldier.

It was different from before, when he taught me. Easier, more specific.

That’s why I knew,

“Father has grown too.”

Maybe it was because I grew, but Father was definitely stronger now than when he first regressed.

“Now, do it again.”

This time Father walked to where the sword qi should fall.

He looked at me there and asked,

“There’s a hostage here. The enemies are five in total.”

He blew his breath wind to mark their positions.

The hostage and enemies were almost touching.

“Now, rescue him.”

“I thought Father would stand where the hostage was.”

“Why would I?”

“Usually it’s like that, right? I trust you. So I stand in the hostage’s place. If you make a mistake, I die.”

Father said firmly,

“How can I trust you?”

Then he stepped a few paces further away.

I laughed because I knew he meant it seriously.

I composed myself and imagined the situation. The people surrounding the hostage were no ordinary warriors. They were real masters guarding the hostage.

Swords pointed at the hostage’s neck.

Only one chance.

And Father declared the result,

“All enemies are dead.”

Just as I was about to cheer!

“The hostage is also dead.”

I ran to the hostage’s spot. Sure enough, sword qi had fallen there too. Six, not five, sword qi fell. It was a mistake from not yet mastering the number control.

I looked down the hole where the hostage stood and mourned.

“Sorry, Daeryong.”

I smiled, recalling Seodaeryong’s “Why fold?” argument. But I couldn’t kill Ian, right? Left-arm Lord, right? I’m his right arm! Seodaeryong’s voice echoed in my mind.

“It’s still better than before.”

As I felt, Father definitely noticed the difference from when he first learned Nine Flames Martial Art. We were growing together.

“Of course, who else but you could teach me?”

We got back in the carriage.

“There’s an inn with skilled cooks in the village we’ll reach later. I really want to take you there. Since I couldn’t rescue the hostage, I’ll pay!”

Juhyangwol (周香月) had been having nightmares for several days. She usually didn’t dream much, but today’s appointment pressed on her.

“Miss, it’s time to get ready.”

Servants brought in clothes.

Though they were splendid and beautiful, Juhyangwol took out a clean martial arts uniform from the closet.

“I’ll wear this.”

“The family head insisted you must wear this.”

Juhyangwol glared coldly at the servants. They bowed their heads. They knew she wouldn’t back down.

“My mother knows I’ll wear my uniform. So no need to worry about scolding.”

Then a woman’s voice came from outside.

“So I came myself.”

The woman entering was Juhyangwol’s mother, Im Sohwa (林素華), head of the Joo Sword Family (周氏劍家).

“Wear that.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Juhyangwol stared hard at her mother.

Did she ask because she didn’t know? Or pretended not to?

“Do you not know how important today’s meeting with Lord Hwang is?”

Does Mother really not know what she’s saying? What connection does that flashy palace dress have to the meeting? If she thinks there is a connection...

Juhyangwol nearly said aloud,
—Do you really want to sell your daughter to them?

But she couldn’t say it. Once spoken, she would regret it.

Five years ago, Father died, and the Joo Sword Family’s fortunes quickly declined. Mother became the head, but couldn’t fill Father’s place. It was a mistake. She should have handed the position to someone better and stepped down.

One by one, the family’s warriors left. Only those who respected Father remained, barely keeping the family name alive.

Then the prosperous Hwang Trading Group recently proposed an alliance with the Joo Sword Family. Today was the negotiation day.

Mother knew well.

That Lord Hwang had a liking for her daughter and chose her as the negotiation representative. Mother’s choice was that flashy palace dress.

She was ready to hurt her mother. But though the wounds were self-inflicted, she was shocked, angry, and missing her dead father.

Those images kept coming to mind, making her unable to speak.

When she arrived at the meeting place, an inn, a scuffle was going on between the warriors of the Hwang Trading Group and a young man at the entrance.

“Why won’t you let me in? I must get in today!”