A new day dawned, the sun climbing high in the sky. Hwan remained anchored off the island. The Black Wings, once a Sungian warship, then a Soyeolish pirate vessel, now belonged to him. Its massive oars required almost the entire crew to function. For the journey to Birahng, the captured Nahmgyo merchant ship would be more suitable. Hwan boarded the ship with twenty of his men, including Keumpyeong Hui, and Yeong. They set sail for Birahng.

The journey was long, but the wind and waves favored them, propelling the ship across the sea as if it were flying. Yeong remained silent. As darkness fell, her gaze drifted towards the star-filled sky, occasionally meeting Hwan's. He lay on the damp deck, his back against the railing. His expression betrayed no hint of anxiety or impatience.

"Meeting with my brother is a waste of time," he remarked. "But I'll take you, since you insist."

"Everything happens according to Sahngjon's will," Yeong replied.

"Do you have no thoughts of your own?" Hwan asked with a hint of mockery in his tone.

"My thoughts..." Yeong began.

"Are Sahngjon's thoughts," Hwan finished for her, a smirk playing on his lips. "Of course."

Yeong's expression remained unchanged. Hwan, losing interest, closed his eyes, his eyelids heavy with fatigue. The ship sailed smoothly, propelled by the favorable wind.

As Birahng emerged from the darkness, a faint light flickered on the horizon. It was too small and dim to be a fishing boat attracting fish with its lamps. Keumpyeong Hui approached Hwan.

"Guardian," he reported, "there's a light in the distance, near Birahng."

Hwan sat up, following Hui's gaze. He spotted the light.

"Approach it," he commanded.

The ship changed course, sailing towards the light. The moon, though not yet full, provided enough illumination to make out the flag fluttering on the approaching vessel. A blue flag, emblazoned with a silver sun partially eclipsed, emitting a faint glow.

"It's a Myeonghyeon ship, Guardian!" Hui exclaimed.

A slow smile spread across Hwan's face. "No need to land on Birahng, then," he said. "Bring us alongside."

Hui asked, "What's the plan, Guardian?"

"What plan?" Hwan scoffed. "With the Guardian Crimson by my side, everything I do is part of Sahngjon's plan, wouldn't you agree?"

Hui, noticing the sharp glint in Yeong's eyes, hesitated, but Hwan remained nonchalant. "Should we prepare our weapons?" Hui asked.

"No. You and the others stay on board. Only Yeong and I will disembark."

"Yes, Guardian."

As the two ships drew closer, the faces of those on deck became visible. Their expressions were a mixture of confusion and apprehension at the sight of the unfamiliar vessel. Hwan's men launched grappling hooks, pulling the ships together. Hwan, with a nod to Yeong, led her across the boarding planks. He recognized the faces of the startled crew.

"I thought it was those Myeonghyeon fools," he sneered. "But it's just a bunch of Emissaries."

Eight Emissaries Divine, dressed in plain clothes, and two laborers provided by the Myeonghyeon merchant company to man the ship. They huddled together, their faces pale with fear. None of them seemed to be armed. While Hwan had recognized them instantly, they didn't seem to recognize him. Since his departure from Wicheong Palace, his whereabouts and even his survival had been unknown. Encountering him alive on the open sea was beyond their wildest imaginations. His once youthful face, so like his mother's, was now gaunt and hardened. His skin, once pale from years spent hidden within the cave, was now tanned and weathered. It took a moment for them to realize who he was.

"Y-you're alive," one of them stammered, his voice trembling.

The memory of Hwan's past transgressions, his violent departure from Wicheong Palace, frighten them. They hesitated to bow.

"Disappointed to see me?" he taunted, sensing their reluctance.

Hwan slowly drew his sword, the rasp of steel against scabbard sending the Emissaries scrambling back. But there was nowhere left to retreat. Hwan pressed the tip of his blade against the chest of the nearest Emissary.

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"What is the meaning of this?!" one of them cried.

Hwan didn't reply. He advanced, his movements deliberate, his killing intent palpable. The Emissaries, sensing the unwavering resolve in his eyes, paled.

"Why are you doing this?" another pleaded. "We are on a sacred mission! Do you not fear Sahngjon's wrath?"

"Sahngjon's wrath," Hwan countered, his voice dripping with disdain, "is reserved for those who serve a false Guardian. Isn't that right, Guardian Crimson?"

He glanced at Yeong, who stood silently behind him. The Emissaries, their attention fixated on Hwan, finally noticed her presence.

"The Guardian Crimson..." one of them breathed, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Yeong remained silent. Hwan, seizing the moment, lunged forward, his sword piercing through the thin fabric of the Emissary's robe. The sharp blade met flesh, and the Emissary froze, paralyzed with fear. A cruel smile twisted Hwan's lips.

"Sahngjon's wrath?" he scoffed. "My will is Sahngjon's will."

"Wait!" the Emissary pleaded. "Please reconsider..."

But it was too late. Hwan drove the blade deep into the Emissary's chest, the force of the thrust sending him to his knees. He grasped the blade, his hands slipping on the blood-slicked steel. The pain was excruciating, and the rocking of the ship made the wound burn even more. He could feel the frantic beating of his heart against the cold metal. Hwan twisted the blade, savoring the moment.

"Do you understand now?" he asked.

A strangled scream tore through the Emissary's throat as Hwan wrenched the blade free. Blood gushed from the wound, spraying across the deck. Yeong, standing behind Hwan, felt the warm spray against her face and clothes. The Emissary collapsed, his body twitching on the blood-soaked planks. The remaining Emissaries, their faces pale with terror, cried out in horror. Hwan wasted no time. He lunged, his sword a blur of deadly motion. It was a swift and brutal massacre. Each swing of his blade found its mark, cutting down the Emissaries with ruthless efficiency. Their piety and supposed purity were no match for the cold steel. They begged Yeong for mercy, but she remained silent, her gaze fixed on the carnage unfolding before her.

Soon, it was over. The Emissaries lay scattered across the deck, their blood mingling with the seawater. Silence descended once more. Hwan and Yeong stood amidst the carnage, their clothes and faces splattered with blood. The coppery stench of blood filled Yeong's nostrils, a strange and repulsive sensation.

"Weren't they servants of Sahngjon?" she asked calmly..

"They were," Hwan confirmed.

"Why did you kill them?"

"They saw me." His answer was swift and direct.

"You killed them because they saw you?" Yeong asked again, her brow furrowed.

"Didn't I ask you not to reveal my existence?" Hwan countered with a hint of warning. "If you took that request lightly, I suggest you reconsider."

"There are many ways of death," Yeong said. "Why choose this path? Why spill their blood with your own hands?"

Hwan saw the flicker of confusion in her eyes, a stark contrast to her usual composure. It was a strange and unsettling sight. Yeong, with her deep, knowing eyes, seemed to possess an ancient wisdom, yet her expression was that of a child witnessing something horrific for the first time. A cruel smile twisted Hwan's lips.

"A bit of entertainment in this dreary life," he replied casually.

"Blood is your entertainment?" Yeong asked.

Hwan's smile vanished as he leaned closer to Yeong, his breath warm against her cheek.

"I have only one criterion for judging a life," he said.

Yeong held her breath, her eyes fixed on his.

"Us or them," Hwan stated.

"Is that all?" Yeong asked, her voice barely a whisper.

A cold smile twisted Hwan's lips. "Pity that true allies are so rare in this world," he said. "Does Sahngjon have a different criterion?"

"To Sahngjon, we are all them," Yeong replied.

"Then I shall follow that will as well."

He gestured to Hui, who pulled the two ships closer together. Before returning to his own vessel, Hwan turned to Yeong.

"Stay on this ship," he said. "That dark shape over there is Birahng. The tide will carry you ashore. With any luck, you won't capsize."

He tossed the bloodstained sword onto the deck of the merchant ship. Yeong looked down at her hands, stained.

"They will think I killed them," she observed.

"Does it matter?" Hwan said. "They won't dare touch you, no matter what you've done."

He drew a dagger from his belt and offered it to her. "Just in case," he said.

Yeong didn't take it. Hwan sighed and tucked the dagger into her robe. He returned to his own ship, and his men pushed the merchant vessel towards the shore. The two ships drifted apart, swallowed by the darkness.

The sea's exhale carried the ship, laden with the bodies of the slain Emissaries, towards the shore. As the vessel drifted closer, the chill of the night air began to steal the warmth from the spilled blood, congealing it into a sticky, crimson mass on the deck. Yeong sat huddled against the railing, the stench of blood heavy in the air. She thought of Sahngjon, its form lost to memory, only its voice, cold and echoing, remaining. It had filled the vast emptiness, its source untraceable, its presence undeniable. Though the details were hazy, the overwhelming sense of awe and terror it inspired remained vivid. As the dark silhouette of Birahng loomed closer, Yeong clung to the memory of that voice.

The ship shuddered as its hull scraped against the sand. Yeong sat up, her gaze sweeping across the moonlit beach. Beyond the shimmering expanse, a dark forest stood silent, its stillness broken only by the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore. But the silence didn't last. Soon, flickering lights appeared in the distance, dancing like fireflies in the darkness. Yeong leaned back against the railing. She waited. The lights drew closer, accompanied by the sound of approaching footsteps and hushed voices. Then, a scream, filled with despair, pierced the night.