Norahn rushed towards his chambers. Though Ryang awaited his report, Norahn couldn't face him yet. The turmoil within him was too overwhelming, and he feared that Ryang's sharp tongue and perceptive eyes would uncover the secrets he now carried.

He paused as he entered the room, his gaze falling upon Sobi, who sat at the table, her eyes downcast, her expression vacant. She looked up as he entered, rising to her feet and bowing respectfully. Her familiar, petite frame filled him with an unexpected sense of comfort. He had longed to be alone, but Sobi's presence offered a strange solace. Yet, the weight of the secrets he carried, the knowledge of her pain and vulnerability, made him hesitate. The memory of her collapsing on the beach, her body wracked with sobs, made the burden even heavier.

"What are you doing here?" he asked wearily.

"I was waiting for you, Your Sanctity," Sobi replied.

"Why?"

Before Sobi could find an answer, she noticed a thin cut on his neck. "Your Sanctity," she exclaimed, her hand reaching out, "you're hurt!"

"It's nothing," Norahn said, brushing her hand aside. "I asked why you were waiting."

Sobi met his gaze in silence. Norahn's voice hardened.

"Yes, I suppose you have your reasons." His words were laced with a chilling accusation. Sobi lowered her gaze. Norahn removed his outer robe, carefully folding it and placing it on a chair.

"You were reckless," he said.

Sobi bowed her head. "I apologize, Your Sanctity."

"An apology isn't enough," Norahn retorted. "Your recklessness has led to the Guardian Crimson's confinement. This could have easily escalated. Your words carry weight, Third Emissary. Perhaps you require further instruction."

"I apologize," Sobi repeated.

"You are confined to your quarters until further notice," Norahn commended. "You are relieved of all duties and rituals."

Sobi didn't defy him, but neither did she move. She simply stood there, head bowed. Norahn looked at her, his heart aching at the sight of her small frame, her shoulders slumped with grief and resentment. He couldn't maintain his stern facade any longer. He reached out, his hand resting hesitantly on her shoulder. Sobi looked up, her eyes filled with unshed tears and unspoken questions. Norahn knew those questions well, having asked them countless times himself, directing them towards the distant, unknowable Sahngjon. But the High Emissary Divine could not bear to live with unanswered questions. The man who once sought Sahngjon's will was gone.

"Don't try to understand all of Sahngjon's will," he said. "You can't. The path to peace lies in acceptance and obedience. Anger and resentment will consume you. I don't understand everything either."

"How can I have faith without understanding?" Sobi asked, her voice thick with emotion.

"Faith doesn't require understanding," Norahn replied.

Sobi shrugged off his hand and said. "You asked why I was waiting. I was waiting to be reprimanded, to be punished for failing to protect them. I didn't want to hear this... this resignation. Don't you care? How can you not feel any anger, any resentment for their deaths?"

Her raw, untainted fury cut through Norahn like a knife. "It doesn't work that way," he said.

"If I had been on that ship," Sobi said, "I would be dead too."

"Sobi..." Norahn began, his voice filled with a mixture of pity and guilt. He wanted to tell her everything, to confess his own doubts and fears, to share the burden of the Guardian Crimson's threats and accusations. But Sobi's eyes were too clear, too innocent to be burdened with his dark secrets. He couldn't bear to meet her gaze.

"No," he said. "Just go."

Sobi bowed her head and left. Norahn lay on his bed, his thin body curled up.

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"My Lord."

The voice from beyond the door snapped Ryang's attention back to the present. He had been awaiting Norahn's return, but it was his servant, Unso(雲疎), who stood at the entrance. Unso entered, bowing respectfully, and presented Ryang with a letter bearing the seal of Seolyo Jin, the Lady of Nahmgyo. The contents of the letter were as Ryang had expected: the black flags of the Dahnian army, their golden embroidery gleaming ominously in his mind's eye. He let out a sigh.

"Never a moment's peace," he said. "They arrive the morning after tomorrow."

He finished reading the letter and looked up at Unso, who stood waiting patiently. "Why did you come instead of Dara?" Ryang asked.

"She's been bedridden with a fever," Unso replied. "She's resting."

Ryang's brow furrowed. "A fever?"

Unso simply nodded. A flicker of concern crossed Ryang's face, but he quickly pushed it aside. He rose from his seat, straightening his robes.

"Wait here," he instructed. "I'll inform the Guardian, and then we'll leave immediately."

"Should I prepare your things?" Unso offered.

"No. Leave everything. I'll gather what I need when I return."

Unso bowed his head in acknowledgement. As Ryang turned to leave, his gaze fell upon the dull blade resting on his desk. He retraced his steps, picked up the sword, and headed towards Seong's chambers.

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Seong lay on his bed. He wasn't trying to sleep, but he lacked the energy to keep his eyes open. The silence in the room was broken only by the occasional ringing in his ears. He tried to clear his mind, but the image of the Guardian Crimson's dark, intense eyes lingered, her voice, soft yet sharp, echoing in his thoughts. Her serene demeanor and the bloody truth behind her words clashed. Though he remained firm in his decision to confine her, he couldn't bring himself to see her as an enemy. He clung to the hope that her presence, and the plan she carried, would bring an end to their long struggle.

"Your Luminance."

Ryang's voice broke through the silence. Seong sat up.

"Enter."

Ryang entered and bowed respectfully. Seong gestured towards a chair. He noticed the sword in Ryang's hand but chose to ignore it.

"What is it?" he asked.

Ryang's brow furrowed. "I beg your pardon?"

"There are a number of reasons you might be here these days," Seong replied.

Ryang took a seat. "I need to leave here for a few days," he said.

Seong had a feeling he knew why. "The Dahnian fleet?"

"Yes. They arrive at Hyangdo the day after tomorrow. The Lady of Nahmgyo has requested my presence at the welcoming ceremony for the princess."

Seong sighed. "So it begins."

"Let's hope it passes without incident," Ryang said.

"Go," Seong said with a nod. "Assess the situation. And you've been neglecting your duties at Nahmgyo."

"Our business seems to function just fine without me these days."

"Is Seon accompanying you?"

"Yes."

Though Seong tried to deflect the awkward conversation with a gentle smile, Ryang couldn't maintain the pleasantries. He composed himself and addressed Seong.

"Guardian."

His voice was calm and steady, his expression carefully neutral, as it always was when he had to deliver unpleasant news. Seong flinched. Ryang noticed his unease, but he couldn't avoid the inevitable.

"Don't let the Guardian Crimson's words trouble you," Ryang reassured him. "I'll uncover the truth while I'm away."

Seong's face hardened as he shook his head. "She spoke the truth," he said. "At least about my worthiness."

"You can't say such things in front of the soldiers and Emissaries," Ryang pleaded.

"Are you worried they'll lose faith in me?"

Ryang's throat tightened. "Why are you so determined to protect me?" Seong asked. "Even Sahngjon believes I'm unworthy."

"Those are merely the words of the Guardian Crimson," Ryang said.

"She is sent by Sahngjon," Seong countered.

"Father believed in you."

"Do you believe in me?"

"I do," Ryang replied without hesitation.

"Is it because you have no other choice?"

"Please, Guardian."

"I pity you," Seong said.

Seong, ignoring Ryang's growing frustration, continued his self-deprecating remarks.

"I've never done anything worthy of such faith."

"Your very existence gives us hope," Ryang argued. "That is the role of the royal family."

"Sahngjon bestowed this title upon me," Seong said. "If he wishes to take it back, I won't resist. Not that I could, even if I wanted to."

"Are you truly willing to abandon everything because of the Guardian Crimson's words?" Ryang pressed. "Since when has Sahngjon's will been so important to you?"

"Has my will ever been important?" Seong countered.

"It has always been important to me."

"You don't care about my will," Seong accused. "You just want to mold it to your own desires. I cannot share your dreams, Ryang. They are not my own."

Ryang, his patience exhausted, decided to confront the issue head-on. "Then what is your will?" he asked. "Do you still intend to disband Wicheong Palace?"

Seong turned away, unable to meet Ryang's intense gaze. "I don't want to see any more bloodshed," he admitted. "But since the Guardian Crimson arrived, ten people have died. I... I don't know if I can handle any more."

"Then you must be strong," Ryang urged. "You must protect us."

"How?" Seong asked in despair. "What power do I have?"

Ryang hesitated. He had always been wary of relying on the Azure Scripture, on the ambiguous words of Sahngjon who had remained silent for over a thousand years. But he couldn't deny the evidence before his eyes.

"Perhaps not everything in the Azure Scripture is true," he began, choosing his words carefully, "but surely not everything is false. The light that appeared in the High Emissary Divine's eyes is exactly as described in the scripture. And it is written that the founder of Wi established his kingdom with the power bestowed upon him by Sahngjon. That same blood flows through your veins, Guardian."

"Those are just stories," Seong dismissed.

"The Crimson Star, the Guardian Crimson, the light in the High Emissary Divine's eyes... these are not mere stories," Ryang said. "If the founder's blood truly flows through your veins, then you must awaken your power."

"But I don't know how," Seong said. "There are no records of any Scion awakening their abilities since the founder."

"Then we must find a way," Ryang insisted. "I know you don't share my dream, but Sahngjon has set things in motion. The battle is coming, whether we like it or not. If you don't become stronger, Wicheong Palace will continue to bleed."

"Ryang," Seong began.

"You must become stronger, for the sake of Wicheong Palace," Ryang pleaded on a desperate edge.

Seong's eyes narrowed. "Why are you saying all this?" he asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

Ryang hesitated. His suspicions were still vague, based on intuition rather than concrete evidence. He was always wary of trusting his gut, but he was even more wary of ignoring it. Better to be cautious than complacent.

"Cheon Hwan might be alive," he finally said.

"What?" Seong gasped.

Ryang pushed the sword he had taken from the Ministry across the table. "This was found with her," he explained. "It's not something she would carry. And yet, this dull blade inflicted fatal wounds on ten people with a single strike. There are no signs of a struggle. The only person I know capable of such skill is him."

Seong picked up the sword, his fingers tracing the worn leather of the hilt. The blade, as Ryang had said, was dull, nicked and scratched, bearing the marks of countless battles. The sight of it eased his suspicions of the Guardian Crimson. The sword and the woman didn't seem to belong to the same time. But he refused to entertain the possibility of Cheon Hwan's involvement.

"That's a wild accusation," he said. "There's no proof that Hwan is even alive."

"As I said before, Guardian," Ryang countered, "there's no proof that he's dead either."

Seong frowned. "Do you know every swordsman on Birahng?" he challenged. "This isn't like you, Ryang. Why are you jumping to conclusions?"

Ryang's lips tightened into a thin line. He knew he was being impulsive, but the thought of Hwan's return filled him with a sense of dread he couldn't ignore. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm.

"You're right, Guardian," he conceded. "It's a wild accusation."

But even as Seong's eyes bored into him, Ryang pressed on. "But we can't rule out the possibility."

"It's a possibility we don't need to consider right now," Seong said. "Hwan can't be on Birahng."

"Why are you so certain?" Ryang asked.

"Because..." Seong faltered, then sighed. "Whether Hwan is alive or dead, we can discuss it when we have more information. While you're away, I'll try to get the Guardian Crimson to open up about her plans."

Ryang wanted to press further, but he had nothing but his suspicions and anxieties to offer. Seong's voice softened.

"Be careful on your journey," he said.

Ryang, suppressing his unease, rose to his feet and bowed. "I will, Guardian."

He turned and left, the dull blade remaining on the table. Seong picked it up once more, his eyes tracing the dried bloodstains on the blade. He winced, setting the sword down with a clatter and running a hand through his hair.