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Chapter 03
An old man, clearly furious, stroked his beard as he sat at the head of the room and opened his mouth.
“It’s already been a hundred years since the Celestial Demon disappeared.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Once the Celestial Demon vanished and the Blood Palace shut its doors, even the rampaging ghosts stopped appearing.”
“Ghosts” referred to the lingering spirits of humans or animals bound by deep resentment.
Depending on that resentment, they could even take form—vile beings—yet ever since the Celestial Demon disappeared and the Blood Palace sealed itself a century ago, sightings had become almost nonexistent.
The old man’s calm voice settled over the low table. Placing his fist on his relaxed knee, he spoke to his son kneeling before him.
“The Martial Alliance is still searching for traces of the Demonic Sect, aren’t they?”
“Yes, Father.”
“And you believe that nonsense?”
The old man clenched his fist. As if stirred by the faint flicker of his father’s anger, the son replied.
“I do not believe it.”
“Exactly.”
The old man’s eyes hardened.
“The Alliance Leader—he simply doesn’t want to let go of his power.”
Bang!
His palm slammed down on the table. His son nodded, still sitting upright in formal posture.
“We cannot allow that sly old fox to toy with us any longer. The fame of the Namgung clan is not something to be taken lightly.”
He growled like an aged tiger. Though past eighty, he still possessed overwhelming vigor—Namgung Huicheon, the clan leader of the Namgung family. He warned his son, Namgung Hyeonwon:
“The Nine Great Sects, united under the Alliance Leader, wield immense influence. All the more reason our clan must stand together.”
At those words, Hyeonwon fell silent. Huicheon clicked his tongue openly.
“You should be grateful I let that girl born outside these walls serve any useful purpose at all.”
“Yes.”
Hyeonwon bowed. But whether this was a blessing, as the clan head claimed, was uncertain.
Namgung Sayeol—his daughter born outside the clan—had only just turned sixteen.
“Living with the Jegal clan will be better than living like a ghost here.”
The man she was to marry, Jegal clan head Hwangho, was already past forty.
“If she’s lucky enough to bear him a son, that’ll be fortunate. Though who knows whether that frail body of hers can even bear a child.”
There was nothing Hyeonwon could say now.
“She may not understand much with that dull head of hers, but speak to her and prepare her properly.”
“Yes, Father.”
Even if she was only a half-blood daughter, he—her father—had simply brushed her aside with indifference.
If he had been even a little less indifferent, perhaps the tragedy would never have happened.
Back then, none of them knew what was about to occur.
Had they not been so indifferent, perhaps that small life would not have been extinguished, and this calamity—this tragedy belonging solely to the Namgung clan—would never have come to pass.
Bang—!
A thunderous strike crashed against the table.
Outside, only the places where the shadows fell were dark, like the maw of a beast, yet everywhere else was bathed in the bright glow of a full moon.
Between that darkness and light, someone’s roar tore through the night.
“What in the world is going on?!”
Namgung Huicheon’s bellow rattled the clan leader’s quarters. His presence pressed upon the surrounding attendants like a frenzied tiger crushing their breath.
“The Jegal clan head was attacked at our own front gate?!”
“P-please calm yourself, Clan Head…!”
The young clan lord, Namgung Hyeonwon, finally managed to open his mouth, but such words were not enough to soothe this rage.
“Are you telling me the Celestial Demon, who vanished a century ago, appeared at the Namgung gate? Or perhaps a ghost showed up to overturn our clan?”
Hyeonwon bit down on his lip. If it had been the Celestial Demon or a ghost, it would have been easier to report.
With dry lips, he finally forced out a whisper:
“…It was Sayeol.”
At that unexpected name, Huicheon’s brow twisted sharply.
“Sayeol—she stabbed the Jegal clan head.”
Even Namgung Huicheon fell silent. Because it was absurd.
“That sickly girl, who could barely even walk properly, stabbed Jegal Hwangho?”
“That is what the witnesses said.”
Huicheon felt the chill creep into his skull.
Hearing something so absurd drained even his anger.
“Nonsense.”
“I think so as well.”
“Unless she was possessed by a ghost, it makes no sense.”
But that was impossible. Ghosts had vanished after a century of peace; there was no reason they would reappear now. Stroking his beard, Huicheon issued an order.
“What did you do with the girl?”
“T-that… We sent attendants to drag her out of her room, but it seems… they cannot enter.”
“Cannot enter?”
“Yes. As if an invisible wall were blocking the way…”
“Hmph.”
Huicheon’s face twisted brutally, fangs bared.
“Then it must be some petty sorcery she picked up.”
“Sorcery…?”
Hyeonwon frowned as well. Even with the Celestial Demon gone for a hundred years, remnants of the dark cults still existed.
Especially the Blood Palace and Ice Palace, both of which ceased activity the moment the Celestial Demon vanished.
“Bring the girl here immediately! Jaewon, Jaechun!”
“Yes, sir!”
The two guards standing outside answered instantly.
“It’s nothing but a crude imitation. Tricks like that don’t work on first-rate masters.”
Huicheon wanted this resolved quietly. He had concealed the commotion on purpose.
Nothing good would come from letting anyone know.
Namgung Sayeol. Whatever trick the girl pulled, once the sorcery was stripped away and Jegal Hwangho recovered, they could simply send her off.
The Jegal clan needed the Namgung clan’s power as well; with proper persuasion, they would tolerate it.
“She threw away her one chance to live like a human in the Jegal household. Foolish girl.”
He clicked his tongue. Perhaps her bloodline was weak—she was far too dull-witted.
Time passed quietly.
Whoosh—.
Wind rustled outside the room, yet strangely, there were no footsteps returning. It had been quite some time since the two guards left for the annex.
“What are those fools doing…?”
There was no way that girl’s sorcery could trouble first-rate guards. So why was there no sign of them—
Creak, drag—.
Tap.
Creak, drag—.
Tap.
Footsteps echoed across the wooden floor.
Creak, drag—.
Tap.
Creeeeak—…
The eerie lanternlight beyond the paper door cast the shadow of a small girl—one far too small, far too still.
“W-who is it?”
Hyeonwon stuttered unknowingly. An unnatural stillness filled the air. Even the occasional sound of wind had vanished.
The shadow beyond the paper door did not move, nor did it answer.
“I asked who it is…!”
Even after he shouted, silence persisted.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Time trickled by as if silence itself crawled across the floor, smothering their senses.
Then—
“It’s me.”
A thin voice.
“Sayeol.”
The girl who could never speak properly before her father spoke casually—as if nothing were wrong.
“Please open the door, Father.”
“You—you could open it yourself!”
Yet the chilling, wind-like voice came again.
“Father—”
She giggled softly.
“O-pen— the— door— please.”
Scratch, scratch, scrape, crack—
Scratch, scratch, scrape, crack—
The sound of tiny nails scraping the door burrowed into their ears like something clawing their skulls. Goosebumps surged across their skin. The grotesque wrongness of it made fear crawl beneath Hyeonwon’s ribs.
“…W-why did you come alone? I clearly sent guards with you.”
At that, the scratching abruptly stopped.
“Don’t worry. I came with them.”
Hyeonwon’s eyes returned to the shadow.
“…Then why is there only one shadow?”
A deathlike silence fell.
Unable to endure, Hyeonwon shouted:
“W-what are you—!”
CRACK!
SPLAT!
Something burst through the paper door. Something the size of a human head—
A human head.
“Hhk—!”
Hyeonwon choked on his scream.
It was the head of Jaewon—the guard sent to retrieve Sayeol.
Blood poured from the ruptured skull. Torn chunks of flesh dangled; the gaping mouth was pitch-black.
Its tongue had likely been ripped out.
Hyeonwon collapsed to the floor, staring blankly.
The eyes were vacant. Deep red claw marks marred the cheeks.
“Ggh…”
Both men bit down on their tongues.
Crack. Creak.
Scratch, scrape.
Only the sound of fingers scraping the door continued—relentlessly.
