CRACK.
The branch splintered in midair, spinning and thudding into the grass near Ji-Mun's feet. In an instant, Ma-Rok and Sun-Ho stood at the front, blades half-drawn, So-Ri already weaving her fingers with subtle energy.
From the shadows emerged a woman in deep green robes, hood pushed back, revealing sharp amber eyes and tightly braided silver-streaked hair.
"State your intent," Sun-Ho said calmly. His voice was even, but every instinct was sharpened like a drawn sword.
The woman raised her hands. "I come with a message, not a sword. The Forest Pact recognizes your movements… Elementless Sovereign."
That name again.
Ji-Mun turned. "I thought we weren't advertising that title."
Sun-Ho exhaled. "We aren't."
"Then someone's leaking your cosplay."
The woman chuckled, not unkindly. "Relax. We're not your enemy. In fact, we've been watching the corruption from our borders for a long time. We know what the clans have done. We know the rot starts at the roots."
"And you want to help?" So-Ri asked, her tone half-suspicious, half-curious.
"More like… we want to survive. If this world keeps spiraling, the forest will burn. And we like our trees."
Sun-Ho studied her. Her stance, tone, even her words carried confidence without arrogance. She wasn't here to flatter or deceive—she was a messenger of something ancient and cautious.
"I assume you represent more than yourself," he said.
She nodded. "I speak for the Verdant Will. We offer information, territory passage, and assistance against those aligned with the corrupted Five Clans."
Ji-Mun leaned closer to Sun-Ho and whispered, "Should we really trust people who dress like dramatic shrubs?"
Yul-Rin kicked him gently. "They're offering free help and moss tea. Let them."
Sun-Ho chuckled softly. "What's the catch?"
The woman paused. "No catch. Only… neutrality. We will not be named allies in open war. But in secret, we will ensure your path remains… unhindered."
So-Ri frowned. "Why the secrecy?"
The woman looked to the sky, voice distant. "Because power-hungry men fear forests they cannot cut down."
There was a silence—subtle but resonant.
Sun-Ho finally nodded. "Then let this be the first step. But know this—I will not let anyone, even allies, stand idle if the innocent bleed."
The woman bowed. "Agreed."
She turned to leave but glanced once more over her shoulder. "Beware the Glass Summit. There are whispers of someone… digging into your forgotten name."
Sun-Ho stiffened slightly, but before he could speak, she vanished into the night, steps light as drifting petals.
---
Later that night, the group sat around the fire once more, the earlier tension half-forgotten, replaced by weariness and quiet musings.
"So," Ma-Rok asked, chewing on a skewer of roasted roots, "how many titles do you have now?"
"Let's not count," Sun-Ho groaned.
"Elementless Sovereign," Ji-Mun recited with flourish. "Masked Hero. Righteous Flame. Prince of Passive-Aggressive Glares…"
"Please stop," Sun-Ho said, burying his face in his hands.
Yeon, seated beside Yul-Rin, scribbled a list on bark with a charcoal nub. He held it up.
'White Ghost of Murim'
Sun-Ho stared. "…That one's new."
So-Ri snickered. "He's branding you faster than we can stop him."
"You gave him writing materials again?" Sun-Ho asked flatly.
Yul-Rin nodded. "It helps with emotional processing."
"It helps with roasting me."
---
That night, Sun-Ho stood alone beneath a great tree, its bark etched with symbols only seen in moonlight. He placed his hand on its surface, and a warmth pulsed beneath his palm.
The Forest Pact had sworn neutrality—but their knowledge of the past and his identity troubled him.
"They know," he murmured. "Or at least, they suspect."
So-Ri stepped beside him, quiet as a breeze.
"They'll keep the secret. They value balance too much to tip it."
Sun-Ho looked at her. "You're sure?"
"I trust them about as much as I trust myself," she said. "Which is just enough to stay upwind of poison."
He chuckled. Then turned more serious. "If the Glass Summit is involved, things will escalate."
"They always do," she said softly.
The two stood in silence beneath the tree, moonlight wrapping around them like silk.
---
The scent of sizzling mushrooms and roasted chestnuts drifted through the clearing.
Ji-Mun leaned over the fire pit, holding a small iron pan like a sacred artifact. "I call this: 'Foraged Elegance.'"
"Smells like slightly-burnt peasant food," Yul-Rin noted, poking a mushroom with her dagger.
"It's an acquired flavor," Ji-Mun said with dignity.
Yeon quietly held up another bark slate.
'Slightly Burnt Peasant Food'
Sun-Ho almost choked on laughter.
Ma-Rok dragged over a thick log and sat down, eyes gleaming. "I caught two squirrel-rabbits this morning. You cook yours, I'll cook mine. We'll let everyone judge."
Ji-Mun narrowed his eyes. "A cook-off? Brave words from a man who once boiled an egg with poison berries."
"That was for... flavor."
"Flavor that paralyzed me for six hours!"
So-Ri sat nearby, sipping tea. "I'll be the judge. But if either of you tries to bribe me with extra portions, I'm declaring Sun-Ho the winner."
"I didn't cook anything," Sun-Ho protested.
"Exactly. That's why it's safe."
Ji-Mun threw his arms up. "This entire party is rigged."
---
The next morning, they resumed travel. The air was lighter, the road softer. Birds chirped in the canopy. Ma-Rok accidentally stepped in a frog nest and screamed like a toddler.
"An enemy ambush?" Sun-Ho turned, alarmed.
"No!" Ma-Rok clutched his foot. "It's wet and full of wiggling regrets!"
Yul-Rin tried to hide her laughter.
Ji-Mun dramatically offered a leaf. "I, too, have suffered your pain, brother."
So-Ri sighed. "This is the future leadership of Murim."
Sun-Ho looked back at them, smiling. "Let's hope they don't find out."
Yeon, scribbling again, raised another bark slate:
'Frog-Slayer Ma-Rok'
---
End of Chapter 57