The morning sun filtered through a gentle haze, casting dappled shadows across the forest trail. Birds chirped. A slight breeze murmured through the leaves.
Wheee—
Peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Sun-Ho's gaze swept the horizon as they passed into the southern foothills. "Still no signs of interception. Either we've gone unnoticed… or they're planning something clever."
Ma-Rok snorted, thumbing his hammer. "I prefer the loud ones. Traps and poison make my beard itch."
Yul-Rin walked beside him, twirling a glass vial of purplish liquid. "You're lucky I use my poisons for you, not on you."
"So comforting."
So-Ri chuckled, walking on Sun-Ho's other side. "Still, she's right. This much quiet in contested territory is usually a trap wearing a smile."
Sun-Ho didn't answer immediately. His expression had gone distant. "We're close to Gray Birch Pass, aren't we?"
Master Jang nodded from the rear, sipping tea like they were out for a picnic. "By nightfall, yes. And by dawn, you'll be in the neutral zone."
Yeon lagged slightly behind, focused on a folded piece of parchment. He was studying a basic formation diagram Sun-Ho had drawn for him, occasionally scratching symbols in the dirt with a stick.
Sun-Ho slowed a step. "Yeon, keep up."
The boy glanced up, nodded once, and moved forward silently.
Ji-Mun caught up to the group, panting slightly. "The villagers up north are gossiping. Word of the masked sovereign's appearance spread faster than a drunk's secrets."
Sun-Ho frowned. "They know I was there?"
Ji-Mun waved a hand. "Not you, no. But stories of 'a white-masked ghost who dances through flame and shadow' are already being sung. Some say he saved a fishing village. Others say he burned down an entire sect with his pinky."
Ma-Rok looked intrigued. "Did you use your pinky?"
Sun-Ho groaned.
"Next time," Ji-Mun said with a grin, "use your knee. It'll add variety."
Yul-Rin narrowed her eyes. "We should be more careful. The more outrageous the myth becomes, the more people will seek the truth."
"I know," Sun-Ho said. "But that myth might also keep some snakes from striking."
Creak—
A tree branch ahead snapped.
Sun-Ho raised a hand. Instantly, the group halted. Even Yeon froze mid-step.
From the tree shadows emerged a group of robed travelers—five in number, wearing worn leather cloaks, their weapons partially hidden but unmistakable.
"Travelers," one of them greeted calmly. "Mind if we share your trail?"
Sun-Ho offered a neutral smile. "Trails are free. But I suspect you didn't stop just to admire our walking formation."
The lead man grinned. "Sharp. We're from the Southern Valley Sect. Heading north to investigate bandit activity… but we've heard rumors. White mask, fire dances. Sound familiar?"
Ji-Mun whistled. "Fast gossip. Almost impressive."
Sun-Ho remained calm. "We're heading south. The White Mask rumors have nothing to do with us."
"Perhaps. Perhaps not." The man's hand fell casually to his waist, fingers grazing the hilt of a curved sword.
Yul-Rin tensed. "If you're thinking of testing that theory—"
Master Jang stepped forward with a genial smile. "Young men, surely you're not threatening my grandchildren while I'm sipping tea?"
One of the strangers looked at him, confused. "Grandchildren?"
"I've adopted them all. Wonderful, reckless brats. Especially that one—" He pointed at Ji-Mun. "He once challenged a river spirit to a drinking contest."
Ji-Mun proudly bowed. "Lost horribly."
The Southern Valley men exchanged wary glances. Then their leader nodded. "We meant no offense. Safe travels."
They backed away and disappeared down a fork in the path.
Sun-Ho's smile faded the moment they were gone. "They weren't scouts."
"No," So-Ri murmured, checking her fan's hidden blades. "They were testing our strength… and gathering information."
"They'll report back," Master Jang said, unbothered. "We'll be trailed. Possibly ambushed."
"Then we control the place of battle," Sun-Ho said.
Yul-Rin smirked. "Planning something devious, Leader?"
He gave her a sly glance. "Would I ever?"
Yeon looked up and wrote quickly:
Yes. Always.
The party laughed.
---
A Moment Beside the Stream
The stream babbled beside them, silver threading over smooth stones under the twilight sky.
Sun-Ho crouched near the edge, cupping his hands to scoop up water.
Splash.
The cold bit into his fingers, grounding him.
So-Ri joined him, brushing her hair behind her ear. "You always stare into running water when you're thinking too hard."
He smirked. "It's better than pacing holes into the ground. Also, rivers don't interrupt."
She chuckled, and for a while they said nothing. Just the wind, the water, the rustling of reeds.
So-Ri finally said, "You don't talk about the pressure much. About being the candidate."
Sun-Ho glanced at his reflection. "Because if I start, I might not stop."
A pause.
Then So-Ri whispered, "Then don't talk. Just… rest. With us. With me."
He turned to her, eyes flickering with warmth. "With you... I can."
From the trees, Ma-Rok's voice rang out:
"Oi! You two done with your romantic river meditation? Ji-Mun's about to burn the soup!"
Ji-Mun shouted, "It's not soup—it's tactical broth!"
Yul-Rin groaned. "He boiled an onion and called it strategy!"
So-Ri giggled, wiping a tear. Sun-Ho rose and offered her a hand. "Come on. Let's go eat the onion of destiny."
She took it, heart lighter than it had been in days.
—
That evening, they made camp by a stream where reeds rustled softly in the wind. Firelight danced across faces—some thoughtful, some tense.
So-Ri sat near Sun-Ho, watching embers pop. "It's happening, isn't it? Everything we tried to delay is catching up."
He nodded. "I wanted a few more days of peace. But Murim isn't built for peace."
So-Ri leaned against him slightly. "We'll fight. Together."
Sun-Ho looked up at the stars. "I'll protect you all. Even if I have to become every monster they fear."
—
CRACK.
A twig snapped in the woods.
Sun-Ho didn't move, but his aura shifted. "They're here."
From the trees, figures emerged—twice the number from before. Their blades gleamed in the moonlight.
So-Ri stood. "Guess we're not getting dessert tonight."
Ma-Rok smiled as he lifted his hammer. "Depends what's on the menu."
Sun-Ho's eyes narrowed, and his stance shifted—fluid, precise.
Time to remind Murim that some myths were very, very real.
---
End of Chapter 58