NoveLight ™
In a secluded area of the main family estate stood the Yeonhwa Pavilion, a building reserved for significant gatherings, mainly the family’s annual banquet, held perhaps once a year.
The pavilion rarely saw any foot traffic, as it wasn’t used frequently enough to warrant daily upkeep. Other than the occasional visit from maintenance staff and security personnel, it remained quiet most of the time.
Today, however, the Yeonhwa Pavilion buzzed with life.
Hong Yeonhwa raised her head to look up.
The orange glow from luminescent stones embedded in the lanterns hung from the ceiling cast a warm hue over the surroundings. Blinking momentarily, she lowered her gaze.
The warm-toned floors and walls reflected the orange light, creating a gentle glow. The decorations and lighting combined to instill a cozy atmosphere throughout the space.
Even to Yeonhwa, who lacked an eye for art, it was evident that this place had been designed with care.
Beneath the brightly lit lanterns, many people dressed in their finest attire gathered.
Though not packed to the point of discomfort, every turn of her head brought at least one person into her line of sight.
One common feature was noticeable: most people had hair and eyes in shades of red.
These were members of the Guhwa family’s branch lines or distinguished guests affiliated with their factions.
For Hong Yeonhwa, this was a familiar sight. She’d been chosen as the family’s heir shortly after manifesting Guhwa Fire at a very young age.
Since then, she had attended the annual banquets every year alongside her father, the family head.
“Sigh…”
Familiar as the sight was, it didn’t mean she particularly enjoyed it.
Yeonhwa liked the banquet itself.
She enjoyed meeting people she was close to, savoring good food, and drinking refreshing, sweet wine.
But she didn’t enjoy navigating conversations entangled in layers of politics, where every word had to be chosen carefully.
With a sigh, Yeonhwa massaged the back of her neck and glanced down at her outfit with half-lidded eyes.
She wore a striking red combat outfit with no particular embellishments, paired with a black belt around her waist.
Contrasting with the simplicity of her attire was the elaborate pattern woven into her outer robe...
It was the traditional attire of the Guhwa family, specifically the Hwahwanpo, an heirloom garment reserved for the heir.
The materials used were primarily two rare ingredients.
The fur and hide of the Rank 5 monster known as the Fire Rat, and the leaves of the Fire Rat’s habitat, the flame-resistant Bu-jin Tree.
While the Fire Rat itself wasn’t a particularly powerful monster, the responsiveness of its fur, along with its rarity, made its byproducts valuable.
Likewise, the Bu-jin Tree was a rare material.
The Hwahwanpo was an exquisite piece crafted with dozens of additional materials, producing a high-quality garment.
She touched her sleeve lightly.
It felt pleasant, neither rough nor dry, with a soft texture that clung comfortably to her hand.
The defense was also commendable. Given the materials and the fact that Tan Hwaju himself had crafted it, it could easily rival most high-grade armor.
However, it was less comfortable than her usual attire.
Yeonhwa kept brushing her sleeves and shook her head.
‘Uncomfortable.’
She wanted nothing more than to change into something simpler.
“No,” came an abrupt interruption from beside her.
“Not this time,” Choi Jiyeon said firmly.
“I know. You don’t have to tell me,” Yeonhwa replied, pouting slightly as she turned away.
Still, she straightened her posture, as she knew she needed to fulfill her role for this particular banquet.
Usually, it was the family head’s responsibility to host the annual banquet.
While the Overseer assisted, it was the head who presided over the event.
But the family head was currently in the African Rift.
He had led his combat units into the Rift earlier in the year to investigate an abnormal phenomenon in the region and had yet to return.
Despite regular updates on his safety, he couldn’t attend this year’s banquet.
Therefore, the responsibility of hosting this year’s banquet fell to Choi Jiyeon, acting in the head’s stead, and Yeonhwa, the heir.
“Oh.”
With that thought, Yeonhwa’s gaze shifted.
In the center of the spacious Yeonhwa Pavilion, a single sword stood inverted on a small platform.
It didn’t have the appearance of an ordinary sword.
Its transparent blade, reminiscent of glass, appeared fragile as if a mere tap could shatter it.
But everyone here knew the truth.
That sword was far from weak.
In fact, even a full-force strike wouldn’t leave the slightest mark on this indestructible weapon.
It was the Bonghwa Sword.
A weapon used by the founder, Hong Yeon, with its crafting method passed down to the present day.
Although a weapon, it was considered an artifact in its own right.
Currently, there were two Bonghwa Swords in existence.
One was the founder’s Bonghwa Sword, embedded in the platform, and the other was possessed by the current family head.
Each Bonghwa Sword was forged by the Tan Hwaju of that generation and bestowed upon the family head.
Yeonhwa’s Bonghwa Sword had yet to be crafted.
It would be made in the future, likely by Hwa Byeok-un, the current, and still vigorous, Tan Hwaju.
“So I’ll have to draw the Bonghwa Sword?” she asked.
“Yes, it’s your role now,” Jiyeon replied.
At the end of the annual banquet, it was customary for the family head to ascend the platform, imbue the founder’s Bonghwa Sword with Guhwa Fire, and mark the end of the gathering.
With the family head absent, that role naturally fell to Yeonhwa.
An exasperating duty.
Suppressing a reluctant frown, Yeonhwa joined Choi Jiyeon in greeting the visitors who approached to offer their regards.
There were many reasons for holding the annual banquet.
It was a chance for the family’s blood relatives, scattered far and wide, to gather and exchange news, strengthen bonds, and solidify relationships.
It was also an opportunity to assert the main family’s continued strength as the heart of Guhwa’s power and to weed out any upstarts looking to rise above their station.
Although she wasn’t fond of it, Yeonhwa wasn’t so rebellious as to add to Jiyeon’s burden, especially since she was already hosting the banquet in the family head’s absence.
While she grumbled, Yeonhwa composed herself and behaved accordingly, prompting a sigh of relief from Jiyeon.
As time passed and a rare moment of respite arrived, Jiyeon leaned in and asked quietly.
“Have you told him?”
Yeonhwa’s body stiffened. Despite Jiyeon’s lack of specifics, she knew immediately.
“...I’m telling him today,” she muttered, her words halting and drenched in nervousness.
“Goodness.”
Jiyeon’s expression grew wry.
Despite being her daughter, Yeonhwa could be unexpectedly timid in certain situations.
“We’ve already arranged it, but we’ll officially list Hayul as a descendant of a disowned branch from about a hundred years ago.”
“I under... Hayul?”
Yeonhwa, nodding, paused mid-sentence.
This time, her face showed her own confusion.
As she turned to look at Jiyeon in disbelief, Jiyeon shrugged.
“He told me to call him casually, so I settled on a name. Why?”
“It’s just… strange to hear you call him that so comfortably.”
“What’s so strange about it? I’m human too, you know.”
Jiyeon shook her head, as if finding the comment absurd.
Over the past few days, she had spoken with Lee Hayul several times.
It wasn’t something she could do without his knowledge, after all.
During those conversations, she’d gained a deeper understanding of his character and had grown somewhat close to him.
And it wasn’t just Jiyeon.
Hayul had been quite active during his stay.
He’d visited the workshop early each morning to learn metallurgy from Hwa Byeok-un, bonding with the blacksmith and others.
He’d met and sparred with combat unit members, building rapport with Hong Jin-hyuk and the warriors.
He’d shown utmost respect to the staff he encountered around the estate, leaving a favorable impression.
Even the elders he met to discuss the family registry seemed to hold him in high regard.
‘......’
Reflecting on it, Jiyeon found herself with a peculiar expression.
In a way, it seemed Hayul had been on a mission to gather goodwill wherever he went.
Blacksmiths, warriors, staff, elders…
While Hayul didn’t seem like that type, his actions certainly painted that picture.
Just then, the door opened, and a figure stepped in.
Everyone—those chatting, resting, or snacking—turned their attention to the door.
Yeonhwa did too.
She knew there was a guest at this banquet and knew exactly who it was.
So she recognized the person entering through the door immediately.
Her heart raced.
Feeling the rapid thumping in her chest, she turned her head toward the figure.
“......”
There was red.
The attire was similar.
The Hwahwanpo, crafted from Fire Rat fur and Bu-jin Tree leaves, fluttered more around him than her own.
The modestly designed robe was cinched with a black belt, and a vibrant outer robe was layered over it.
Despite the fit, his petite frame lent an adorable charm to his presence.
The Hwahwanpo’s simplicity contrasted with the outer robe’s ornate design, yet both shared a red hue.
This allowed the stark white of his skin to stand out even more.
The neat, delicate features of his face were highlighted, drawing the eye.
With his eyes softly closed, dark lashes casting shadows, and lips pursed in a quiet expression, Yeonhwa felt an inexplicable desire to approach him.
Until just a moment ago, the surrounding area had been filled with the sounds of conversation, but now a heavy silence settled over the room.
Even the musicians had stopped playing.
No one said a word. Everyone’s gaze seemed irresistibly drawn to him.
“...?”
Perplexed by the attention, Hayul tilted his head slightly.
That endearing gesture was captured perfectly in Yeonhwa’s gaze.
“......”
Yeonhwa stared, her mouth agape.
A repressed longing surged up within her.
* * *
[Unique Ability “Polymath” is advancing]
Tq