When Han Euimyeong arrived at Heukwoon-gwan, the entire sect tensed. As a senior figure of the Orthodox Sect and a renowned master, his sudden visit was more than enough to cause a stir.
Lee Dohyeon greeted him with composed courtesy."Master Han, you've come a long way. To what do we owe the honor?"
Han Euimyeong smiled as he took a sip of tea."Lord of the Black Cloud, the martial world is shifting. The rift between the Orthodox and Unorthodox Sects deepens by the day, and even the Demonic Sect is stirring. In such times, all eyes turn to see what path Heukwoon-gwan will choose."
Dohyeon nodded calmly."Heukwoon-gwan will not be swayed by any faction. Our path is to protect the weak and realize our ideals."
Han Euimyeong chewed over his words and slowly nodded."Your ideals are admirable. But the world rarely turns on ideals alone. Sometimes, remaining neutral makes more enemies than taking a side."
Still unshaken, Dohyeon responded,"Even so, we choose our path. Unity with the weak is the core of Heukwoon-gwan."
After a moment of silence, Han Euimyeong looked directly at him and made an unexpected offer."I wish for you to become my son-in-law."
Dohyeon paused, visibly caught off guard."Master Han… Soyeon and I respect each other greatly, but we are not—"
Han Euimyeong cut in with a quiet chuckle."Respect is enough. Affection can grow in time. I wish for Soyeon's happiness, but the life of a martial artist can't be built on emotion alone."
Dohyeon listened, troubled, unable to dismiss the weight of the proposal—not for personal reasons, but for what it could mean for the relationship between the Orthodox Sect and Heukwoon-gwan.
Just then, Han Soyeon rushed in and inserted herself between them."Father, please stop! Don't burden Dohyeon with something like this."
Her father turned to her calmly."Soyeon, I only want what's best for you. But this world doesn't allow us to chase only what we want."
Soyeon shook her head, firm."But forcing this on him is not right! Heukwoon-gwan is different from us. That kind of pressure only undermines everything they stand for."
Han Euimyeong's expression hardened."Then let us settle this the martial way. Lord Dohyeon—face me in a duel. I'll judge your strength and resolve firsthand."
Soyeon gasped."Father, that's meaningless! You're far stronger than Dohyeon—"
Dohyeon looked at Han Euimyeong and slowly drew his sword."I do not expect to win. But I will fight—to protect Soyeon's dignity and her freedom."
Han Euimyeong smiled at his resolve and stood with his own blade."Then show me, with your sword, the depth of your conviction."
The two men squared off in the center of the training grounds. Han Euimyeong's swordsmanship was sharp and flawless; not once did his movement falter. Dohyeon struggled to defend, retreating under the pressure.
"You wield a strong sword," Han Euimyeong said. "But it still wavers."
Dohyeon reset his stance, his voice unwavering."Unshaken belief isn't everything. Sometimes, in that wavering, we hear the voices of the powerless."
Their blades clashed again with renewed intensity. Dohyeon unleashed his signature technique—an elegant fusion of mana and internal energy—but Han Euimyeong absorbed every strike, dismantling his rhythm.
Mid-duel, Han Euimyeong asked,"Do you truly believe unity with the weak is the answer in this fractured world?"
Dohyeon replied without hesitation."Yes. True martial virtue lies not in dominance, but in shared strength. In coexistence."
Han Euimyeong considered his words as he delivered a final blow. Dohyeon received it head-on, his sword falling to the ground—the match was over.
Han Euimyeong approached and said,"Your technique is still lacking. But your will—your ideals—are beyond reproach. I cannot deny your sincerity."
Dohyeon bowed his head."Master Han, I will prioritize Soyeon's happiness above all. Even if that happiness lies elsewhere."
Han Euimyeong nodded slowly."Very well. I will return to the Orthodox Sect and clarify that Heukwoon-gwan has no intent to ally with the Unorthodox Sect. I hope you'll continue walking your chosen path."
After he left, Soyeon approached Dohyeon, visibly relieved."Thank you… I didn't think Father would change his mind."
Dohyeon smiled gently."I merely held to my beliefs. Let's keep building the path of Heukwoon-gwan—together."
Soyeon nodded, holding his hand tightly. In that moment, their bond—and the future of Heukwoon-gwan—grew stronger than ever.
***
Baek Wolhui's Choice
A letter had flown into Heukwoon-gwan, carrying only a few brief lines: "Baek Wolhui, come back. Something big is about to happen." The handwriting was familiar, yet distant. It belonged to her mother and master, Baek Yeongseon. A name Wolhui had almost forgotten. Now it pierced through her thoughts like a sharp blade.
Wolhui stared blankly at the letter, clutching it tightly in her hand. A storm of emotions surged within her. Her mother's voice resurfaced—cold, stern, unyielding. It had never been filled with warmth or affection. And yet, here it was, a message of concern. It caught her off guard.
She sighed deeply. Heukwoon-gwan was still in turmoil, and she had a role to play in restoring order. But she also knew her mother well—if Baek Yeongseon sent a letter, it was no trivial matter. Finally, Wolhui made a decision. She would face her old master, the person who had once taught her everything.
When Wolhui arrived at her mother's secluded residence deep within the mountains tied to the Demonic Sect, the surroundings were steeped in silence and tension. Only her footsteps echoed in the chilling air. Baek Yeongseon awaited her, seated in the darkness. Though her body had aged, her gaze remained fierce.
The resemblance between them was uncanny—the same striking beauty, the same piercing eyes. Once, Baek Yeongseon had tried to survive in the martial world using her looks, but it left her wounded. She had raised Wolhui harshly, training her to survive not by charm, but through undeniable strength.
"You've come, Wolhui," Yeongseon said. Her voice had softened but still carried undeniable authority.
"I received your letter, Mother," Wolhui replied calmly, standing before her. Her eyes held caution and a hint of mistrust.
Yeongseon scanned her daughter from head to toe. "You've grown strong. I've heard of what you've done at Heukwoon-gwan. But now it's time to return. The martial world is on the verge of upheaval. I worry you might get caught in it."
Wolhui let out a dry laugh. "I never thought you capable of worry. You've never shown me affection." Her voice was cold. She was determined not to falter before her mother.
Yeongseon sighed. "I don't blame you for feeling that way. I gave up all tenderness to raise you as a martial artist. But now, I think perhaps I was wrong."
She gently reached for Wolhui's hand. It was no longer the hand of a fierce warrior—its grip was still firm but strangely gentle. Wolhui was taken aback by the change.
"I want to protect you. You carry everything I've passed down. You've earned your place in the martial world. But now, I just want you to live without danger. Come home, Wolhui."
Wolhui closed her eyes. In her mother's voice, she heard a fragment of the affection she had always longed for. But she also thought of those back at Heukwoon-gwan—Lee Dohyeon, Han Soyeon, Miryeong. She couldn't abandon them.
"Mother, I must remain at Heukwoon-gwan," she said resolutely. "There is too much I must protect. Please let me choose my path."
Yeongseon listened quietly and slowly nodded. Her eyes glinted with both sorrow and understanding. "Go. Walk your path. I may be late in trying to understand you, but I respect your decision. Just know—if you ever wish to return, your place will always be here."
Wolhui bowed her head. "Thank you, Mother." She turned away, not daring to look back. But her mother's softened gaze lingered in her heart.
On the road back to Heukwoon-gwan, Wolhui was lost in thought. Her mother's touch, her changed voice, they left her conflicted. But they also reinforced her resolve.
She would no longer walk the path carved by her master. She would forge her own way. To uphold the ideals of Heukwoon-gwan. To protect those she chose to stand beside.
Wolhui had always maintained distance from her mother. Theirs was a bond forged more by discipline than warmth. Her mother had passed down her beauty and her strength, but also her pain. Now, Wolhui had chosen to break that cycle.
"Lee Dohyeon," she whispered at the gates of Heukwoon-gwan, "I'm back. And this is where I belong."
As she stepped through the gates, her heart was ready for battle. The reunion had scarred her and strengthened her. Now, she would fight not because she had to—but because she chose to.