Suho rushed out to gather everything they needed to complete the pressure cooker. There was no time to waste. The night air was cold, and tension lingered heavily around them as they worked tirelessly. Sparks flew as metal struck metal. Sweat dripped from their foreheads, yet none of them dared to complain. This invention was not just for competition—it was their hope, their strategy, and perhaps their only advantage.
They labored through the entire night. Rowoon adjusted the fittings carefully, ensuring every joint was sealed perfectly. Minsoo assisted despite her exhaustion, holding parts steady and handing tools when needed. Suho returned with additional materials and immediately joined in. By the faint glow of morning light, they were finally done assembling the pressure cooker. Only the cover remained to be secured properly.
Just as dawn approached, they completed it.
But danger had already begun to move toward them.
Lee, the head of the Ming chefs, had overheard a disturbing conversation among certain ministers. Hidden behind a corridor pillar, he caught fragments of their wicked plan—to send assassins to eliminate Minsoo before she could attend the competition. Fear gripped his heart. Without hesitation, he hurried to find Insu.
"The king and the chef are in danger," Lee whispered urgently.
Insu did not waste a second. He immediately gathered a large group of palace guards and rode out of the palace at full speed.
Unfortunately, the assassins had already reached the king's location.
Rowoon suddenly froze. His instincts sharpened. Then he shouted, "Assassins! We are under attack! Everyone grab your weapons and stand ready!"
"How do you know?" the king asked quickly.
"They stepped on the first trap I set," Rowoon replied. "When they reach the third rope and open the gate, arrows will shoot automatically. While that happens, take the chef through the back road and escape."
He turned to Minsoo. "Go to the competition immediately. I will handle this."
Suho, known for his exceptional fighting skills, drew his weapon. The palace guards followed. The king requested a knife, but once it was handed to him, he reached instead for a sword. He was far more skilled with it.
"They stepped on the second rope!" Rowoon warned. "Everyone get ready!"
Minsoo wrapped the pressure cooker carefully in cloth, clutching it tightly as she hid behind the king. Fear shook her entire body.
"No matter what happens, do not leave my side," the king told her firmly. "I will protect you."
"Yes, my king," she replied, trembling.
"They are close!" Rowoon shouted.
The assassins, unaware that their presence had been detected, rushed forward—only to trigger the third rope. Instantly, arrows shot from hidden points. Several assassins fell before they could react. Rowoon had set multiple traps—arrows, hidden gun mechanisms, and barriers.
The battle erupted violently.
A large group of assassins charged toward Suho, the palace guards, and the king. But their true target was Minsoo. They attempted repeatedly to strike her with knives, lunging past the king's defenses. Each time, the king shielded her.
Suddenly, one attacker came from behind. The king dragged Minsoo aside and blocked the strike with his sword. She fell hard to the ground. The pressure cooker slipped from her hands, and the cover shattered upon impact.
Rowoon saw it immediately. He rushed to her side, helping her up.
"Go with the king," he whispered urgently. "Take only the pot. Leave the cover to me. I will fix it and bring it before the competition starts. Trust me."
Minsoo nodded weakly.
"Now go!" Rowoon shouted.
The king realized clearly now—they had come specifically for Minsoo. He grabbed her and began moving toward the forest path. Suho and the palace guards formed a protective shield around them.
The assassins chased them into the trees.
The forest became a battlefield.
The assassins focused on the palace guards first, hoping to eliminate the king's protection. Swords clashed brutally. One guard fought desperately as multiple attackers slashed at him. Suho defended himself fiercely, defeating two men before running to assist the wounded guard.
Four assassins surrounded the king and Minsoo.
"Stay behind me!" the king repeated, fighting with the last of his strength.
Steel rang against steel. Blood stained the forest floor.
Then suddenly—
Minsoo fainted.
The trauma overwhelmed her. As she fell, her head struck a stone. The pressure cooker landed forcefully against her wrist. She lost consciousness instantly.
The king's eyes darkened with fury. With renewed strength, he fought viciously, striking down the men before him. Just as the remaining assassins pressed forward, Insu arrived with reinforcements.
The tide shifted immediately.
The palace guards overwhelmed the attackers, killing the remaining assassins. A horse was brought quickly. The king mounted it, holding Minsoo securely in front of him as she lay unconscious.
They rode swiftly toward the palace grounds where the competition was being held.
After some time, Minsoo stirred slightly. Her head throbbed painfully. She reached up and felt cloth tied around it to stop the bleeding. Confused, she realized someone was holding her tightly.
She looked up.
"My king…" she whispered weakly.
"The competition has already begun," he said softly. "Do not stress yourself. We will arrive soon."
Meanwhile, at the palace grounds, tension filled the air.
The royals waited impatiently. Two hours had passed.
The general spoke coldly. "It is highly disrespectful for the king to abandon such an important event."
He knew very well what had happened. He and the king's uncle had orchestrated the assassination attempt.
"We shall begin without him," the general declared.
"No!" Insu's father, one of the respected royals, objected loudly. "Give them thirty more minutes."
Reluctantly, they agreed.
Thirty minutes passed.
The king's uncle and the general exchanged satisfied glances. They believed their plan had succeeded.
They began walking toward the hall to commence the competition.
Lee, the head of the Ming chefs, lowered his head in despair.
Then suddenly—
A palace guard at the gate shouted loudly, "All hail the king! His Majesty has returned!"
Everyone turned.
And there he was.
The king rode through the gates, dust trailing behind him, Minsoo in his arms.
Shock spread across every face.
The uncle's smile vanished.
The general stiffened.
The king dismounted slowly, carrying Minsoo carefully. Though injured and exhausted, his presence radiated authority and victory.
He had survived.
And the competition was about to begin.