The gates of Dustcloud Sect creaked open for the first time in over two decades.
Crrrrrk…
The morning mist rolled out like a sigh of farewell. Light filtered through the high plum trees, touching the walls with a kind warmth they hadn't known in years.
Baek Sun-Ho stood at the threshold, travel pack slung across his shoulder, robes cleaned and pressed. His expression was calm. Focused. But not untouched.
Behind him, Yeon So-Ri adjusted her satchel of scrolls, blades, and sealed documents.
"Can't believe we're actually leaving," she muttered.
Sun-Ho looked back once. The sect buildings stood crooked but proud, held together by stubborn repairs, borrowed nails, and disciples with more heart than skill.
"I thought I'd die here once," he said.
So-Ri smirked. "You're technically doing better than that. You're living. Again."
He chuckled. "Fair."
---
Final Moments and Silent Promises
The junior disciples stood in two crooked lines at the gates. Most held wooden practice swords. A few clutched handkerchiefs.
"You'll… really come back, right?" young Jin asked, eyes wide.
"Of course," Sun-Ho said, crouching to meet the boy's gaze. "Keep the forge warm for me."
Jin nodded fiercely and saluted.
Yeon So-Ri handed a wrapped pouch of dried herbs to the cook.
"For when the chickens misbehave."
The cook bowed. "And what if you don't return?"
So-Ri smirked. "Then let them run the kitchen. They've earned it."
At the rear of the crowd, Elder Baek, the oldest sect member still mobile, coughed into his sleeve and stepped forward.
His voice rasped like sandpaper.
"Baek Sun-Ho."
Sun-Ho straightened.
"You carry our name now. Not because you were born here. But because you chose to stand here when others didn't."
The old man bowed.
Sun-Ho returned the gesture, deeper.
"I will protect it," he said softly.
---
Master Jang's Rules
They walked three hours before Jang Cheol-Oh finally spoke.
"Rule one," he said, tossing a rock into a passing stream. "You do not talk to merchants in alleyways. They are never just merchants."
"Noted," So-Ri said.
"Rule two: if someone says the phrase 'shadow plum blossom,' run. Either it's a code phrase for assassins or a terrible poetry club. Both are fatal."
Sun-Ho looked sidelong. "You're making that one up."
"Maybe."
He spun his staff once and slung it over his back.
"Rule three is simple: if you have to fight, make sure no one sees. And if someone does…"
"…make sure they don't remember," Sun-Ho finished.
Jang smiled. "Smart student."
---
Campfire Conversations
That night, they camped under a tilted pine tree beside a rocky hill. A small fire crackled between them.
Prrk… pop… crk.
So-Ri leaned against her pack, sketching strange formations on old parchment.
"You never said why you came back," she murmured to Sun-Ho.
He stared into the flames.
"I didn't plan to."
Silence.
So-Ri lowered the parchment. "You remember things from before?"
"Pieces. Names. Weapons. People. A war that never really ended."
She waited. He didn't continue.
Instead, he asked, "Why did you join Dustcloud? You're smart enough for ten better sects."
She chuckled, tracing a dagger along the dirt absently.
"My family once ruled a mid-sized sect before it was devoured by alliance politics. Dustcloud was the only place that took orphans without asking who they were."
She paused.
"And… I didn't want to be just another name traded for favors."
Their eyes met across the firelight. Something quiet passed between them.
Not understanding. Not yet.
But recognition.
---
Danger Beneath Calm Paths
The next day, the path narrowed through a ravine shaded by thick trees.
Sun-Ho paused.
"Four," he murmured.
Jang nodded without turning around.
"I counted five," So-Ri whispered.
"Correction noted," Sun-Ho replied.
They moved silently.
A band of masked warriors lay waiting in the brush—cloaked figures with sigils sewn in pale thread: Ember Serpent Clan.
"Didn't take long," Jang muttered. "I was hoping for at least a week before someone tried to kill us."
---
No Witnesses
The ambush came fast.
Fshh. Crack! Whsh!
Three arrows flew. One blade struck air. Another hand reached for Sun-Ho's throat.
And vanished.
In a blur of motion, Baek Sun-Ho shifted forward.
Thud. Crack. Tap.
One attacker fell with his knee shattered. Another gagged as a palm struck under his chin—gentle, but with pinpointed force. No light left in his eyes.
No qi flared. No blood spilled beyond control.
So-Ri's eyes widened.
"You're suppressing while striking?"
Sun-Ho nodded once. "Master's teachings. Flow beneath the breath."
The last attacker tried to flee.
Sun-Ho didn't pursue.
He simply vanished—
—and reappeared behind the man.
Fwap.
The body crumpled.
---
Aftermath
Jang Cheol-Oh stepped out from behind a tree, chewing on another onion stalk.
"Not bad."
"You knew they'd come," Sun-Ho said.
"Of course. That's the best time to test a technique. During real consequences."
So-Ri folded her arms. "Could've warned us."
Jang shrugged. "You lived."
She scowled.
---
Toward the Next Horizon
By twilight, they were back on the road.
The forest behind them whispered secrets to itself, unaware it had just failed to kill a legend.
Ahead, the road curved toward the rising cliffs of the Whispering Pass.
Sun-Ho walked beside So-Ri, steps matching without meaning to.
She looked at him.
"You always calm when you fight?"
"No."
He glanced sideways.
"Only when someone's watching."
She smiled—genuine, soft.
And for the first time, her gaze lingered a moment longer than needed.
---
[End of Chapter 10]