Yeong's words struck Seong like a bolt of lightning. He stared at her, trapped by the intensity of her gaze, the secrets hidden within those dark depths. A hush fell over the clearing.

"You're right," Seong admitted.

Murmurs of confusion rippled through the crowd, but Seong ignored them, his focus solely on Yeong.

"I've never believed I was worthy," he continued. "I never wanted this title, this responsibility. I couldn't even protect my own mentor, or those Emissaries. No, it's worse than that. They died because of me. If, as you say, they were punished for serving me, then why did Sahngjon send you?"

Yeong remained silent.

"Tell me Sahngjon's will, and I will obey," Seong pressed.

"What if Sahngjon desires another Guardian?" Yeong countered. "Would you still obey?"

Ryang, unable to remain silent any longer, stepped forward. "Guardian, please..."

"Silence," Seong commanded, cutting him off.

Ryang's lips tightened in frustration. Yeong's words had sent a chill down his spine. He needed more information, more time to assess the situation. He desperately hoped Seong would end this conversation, refuse to engage with the Guardian Crimson's dangerous accusations. Their eyes met briefly, but Seong ignored his plea, his gaze returning to Yeong.

"I will obey," Seong replied.

"Guardian!" Ryang cried out, unable to contain his alarm.

Seong had silenced him once, but Ryang couldn't bear the weight of this impending disaster.

Amidst the confusion and murmurs of disbelief, Seong stood unnaturally calm. Yeong tilted her head slightly, her gaze piercing.

"The title of Guardian has endured for a thousand years," she began, her voice resonating through the clearing. "Even when Sahngjon's kingdom fell and the royal family relinquished their claim to the throne, the title of Guardian remained. It stands upon countless lives, a testament to their unwavering faith. Now, I have descended, bearing Sahngjon's will, and the prophecy is on the verge of fulfillment. Though much time has passed, it is but a blink of an eye compared to the long wait of your ancestors. And yet, you would so easily abandon the title of Guardian?"

"I said I would obey Sahngjon's will," Seong replied.

A subtle smirk played on Yeong's lips. "If you never desired the title, you could have cast it aside at any time, regardless of Sahngjon's will."

"I merely seek to protect something different," Seong countered.

"The Guardian must protect the light of Sahngjon," Yeong insisted.

"That light is meant for the living," Seong said. "And the Emissaries are dead by your hand."

Yeong's gaze hardened. For a fleeting moment, she saw Hwan's face superimposed on Seong's. The twins, born of the same womb, were strikingly different in appearance. Seong, with his gentle features, was the image of his father, Cheon Yong. Hwan, though his face was now hardened by years of hardship, still bore the elegant features of their mother, Myeonghyeon Jin. Hwan believed his desires were Sahngjon's will, while Seong questioned even his own convictions. Yet, both brothers shared the same fiery intensity in their eyes.

"I did not kill them," Yeong stated.

The crowd erupted in confusion. "Then who did?" Seong demanded.

Yeong remained silent.

"If someone else is responsible," Seong pressed, "why didn't you deny it?"

"You ask the wrong questions," Yeong replied. Her eyes flickered towards Sobi, who stood with her head bowed, her body trembling.

As the situation grew increasingly convoluted, Ryang, who had been observing from the sidelines, stepped forward and addressed Yeong.

"If you weren't the one who killed them," he demanded, "then tell us what you know. Otherwise, we cannot believe your claims."

Yeong glanced at him, but Ryang met her gaze without flinching. Her story didn't add up. It was strange that the Guardian Crimson, who had eluded the Emissaries for seven days, would suddenly appear on the coast, alone and unharmed, in a ship filled with their corpses. Her evasiveness only fueled his suspicion. And her slender wrists, barely strong enough to hold a sword, made it difficult to believe she had single-handedly slaughtered ten people. Unless she possessed some extraordinary power, like those described in the Azure Scripture, it seemed impossible that she could have overpowered ten trained Emissaries, even unarmed. There was something more to this story, some unseen force at play.

"The Crimson Star appeared seven days ago," Ryang continued. "The Emissaries searched tirelessly, but they couldn't find you. Where were you? How did you end up on that ship?"

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Yeong remained silent, her gaze fixed on Ryang, her refusal to answer clear. Ryang turned to Seong.

"Guardian," he pleaded, "until the Guardian Crimson reveals her whereabouts during those seven days, I ask that you keep her isolated and forbid any unauthorized contact. We cannot proceed with any plans until we know the truth about this incident."

Norahn, who had been listening intently, interjected. "Plans?" he said. "The High Councilor's duty is to serve and obey the two Guardian, not to make plans."

"My duty is to protect Wicheong Palace from its enemies," Ryang retorted. "And right now, the Guardian Crimson, who may very well turn on us at any moment, is a potential threat. Are you suggesting we blindly follow her?"

"It is my duty, as the High Emissary Divine, to protect the Azure Scripture and its Guardians from all enemies, both external and internal," Norahn argued.

"External and internal?" Ryang repeated.

"Didn't I say unfaith was an enemy?" Norahn continued.

"Blind faith is also an enemy," Ryang declared.

Norahn stood his ground. "High Councilor," he said with a subtle warning, "your duty to Sahngjon supersedes your duty to the Guardian. Must I remind you of that?"

Ryang's eyes burned with anger. Though he bowed to no one but Seong, he knew that arguing with Norahn in front of everyone would only expose his own doubts about the Azure Scripture and the prophecy. He wasn't ashamed of his skepticism, but he knew it was a weakness that could be exploited. He turned to Seong.

"Guardian, our ancestors have waited a thousand years for this. The lives of our soldiers, who have remained loyal to the Wi royal family all this time, hang in the balance. We must proceed with caution. Sahngjon will understand."

"We must uphold the dignity of the Guardian Crimson," Norahn interjected. "You cannot grant the High Councilor's request."

Seong remained silent for a moment, his gaze flickering between Ryang and Norahn. His priority was to protect the lives of his people, and the choice was clear. He turned to Norahn.

"The Emissaries under your command are dead," he said. "Aren’t you curious about the truth?"

Norahn bowed his head. "An Emissary does not question the will of Sahngjon."

"I thought you were merely trying to appear strong," Seong said. "But it seems you truly are indifferent."

"That's not what I meant, Guardian," Norahn said.

But Seong had heard enough. He turned to Ryang. "Confine the Guardian Crimson to the room my mother used," he ordered. "No one is to have contact with her without permission. Once the truth is revealed, I will take action against those responsible and make the necessary decisions."

"Guardian!" Norahn cried out.

Seong ignored him. "Escort the Guardian Crimson," he commanded.

Though the order had been given, the soldiers hesitated, their hands hovering hesitantly over Yeong. Seong, his expression sterner than they had ever seen it, watched them with a mixture of impatience and disappointment. Finally, they moved towards Yeong, their steps faltering. One of them reached for her arm, but Yeong's eyes flashed, and he quickly withdrew his hand, his gaze falling to the floor. With a subtle gesture, Yeong indicated that they should lead the way. She followed without resistance. Seong watched her depart, a sigh escaping his lips. He didn't linger, his footsteps echoing through the clearing as he made his way towards his chambers.

In his absence, chaos threatened to erupt once more. Ryang raised his voice, his command ringing through the clearing.

"Return to your posts and await further instructions."

The soldiers and Emissaries dispersed, their voices a cacophony of whispers and murmurs. Kyeongseon Joon pushed through the crowd, approaching Ryang.

"High Councilor," he said, "shouldn't you follow the Guardian?"

Ryang shook his head. "Let him be for now."

Joon, sensing the tension, bowed his head and retreated, rejoining his father.

Ryang closed his eyes, a throbbing pain building behind his temples. They had found the Guardian Crimson, but they were no closer to understanding the situation. The path forward was shrouded in uncertainty. The truth the Guardian Crimson concealed remained a mystery, and he had no idea how to find it.

As he opened his eyes and turned to leave, a figure stepped in front of him, blocking his path. It was Norahn, his usually placid face now contorted with anger.

"Do you even realize what you've done?" he spat.

Ryang glanced around, then nodded curtly towards Norahn before walking past him. Norahn followed.

With Ryang and Norahn gone, the crowd dispersed, the clearing quickly emptying. Cheongro grabbed Sobi's wrist, pulling her away from the dwindling crowd. Sobi tried to wrench her hand free, but Cheongro's grip was like iron. He dragged her to a secluded corner, finally releasing her when they were well away from the others. Sobi glared at him, rubbing her sore wrist.

"Are you out of your mind?" Cheongro hissed, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a fury. "Why are you stirring up trouble?"

"Trouble?" Sobi retorted. "People are dead! We need answers!"

"It's one of two things," Cheongro said. "Either she killed them, or she let it happen. Either way, she's responsible."

"That's why we need to question her!" Sobi insisted. "The High Councilor is right. We can't just ignore the deaths of our Emissaries and blindly follow her."

"The High Councilor?" Cheongro scoffed, his face contorted in a sneer. He leaned closer and said. "Your loyalty lies with the Ministry. The High Emissary is your superior. Don't let that viper twist your mind."

"I can decide what's right and wrong on my own," Sobi replied.

"Since when do Emissaries concern themselves with right and wrong?" Cheongro sneered. "An Emissary's virtue is obedience. Everything is the will of Sahngjon."

"If you're going to preach about obedience," Sobi countered, "at least be consistent. You, of all people, have no right to lecture me about obedience. Those who died were far more obedient than you'll ever be. And you dare speak of Sahngjon's will?"

Sobi clenched her fists. Her throat tightened with anger, and her voice shook as she spoke. Cheongro, sensing her vulnerability, continued his assault.

"If it wasn't Sahngjon's will, then it's your fault," he sneered.

"What?!"

"Who sent those unarmed Emissaries on that ship?" Cheongro taunted. "If they were so precious to you, you should have sent more soldiers to protect them. Or did that thought simply escape your brilliant mind? Let's see you judge what's right and wrong now."

Sobi stood speechless, her anger and shame threatening to consume her. Cheongro delivered one final blow.

"If you're going to abandon your duty, at least be consistent about it."

With a dismissive sneer, he turned and walked away, leaving Sobi alone in her fury and despair. Tears welled in her eyes as she struggled to contain the torrent of emotions surging within her.