The drink was finished. I studied Mengcheon’s expression.

There was no hostility in his eyes. However, his emotions remained unreadable, neither open nor closed.

The third cup was poured and passed. Finally, Mengcheon spoke.

"Why did you spend over ten years practicing the Three Element Sword Technique?"

"...Because I believed it was my path," I replied.

"Is that truly the reason you wielded the sword?"

"......."

A mixture of truth and lies was necessary. Only then could I deceive him.

"I thought becoming a martial artist was the only way to provide for my family. Isn’t that better than wielding a plow?"

"Money. A critical thing indeed. And what happened then?"

"As you can see, I didn’t succeed. Even the Three Element Sword Technique... I lacked the talent to become a proper martial artist."

"What did your father say about it?"

"...My father... said nothing at all."

"I see."

Another clink of cups. A faint haze of intoxication began to rise.

"I thought it was my duty. But in the end, I failed. That is my only regret."

"You grew up early. How old are you now?"

"Twenty-six this year."

"And when did you first pick up a sword?"

"...At fourteen."

I lied slightly, hiding my real age. Mengcheon held his cup, murmuring softly.

"You were... very diligent."

"I worked hard but achieved nothing."

"How can that be your fault? That’s the will of the heavens. You don’t need to blame yourself."

"......?"

There was no hostility in his tone, nor did it seem like he was probing me.

So why had he brought me here?

I glanced at my cup. It didn’t seem poisoned. If my Cheongeop technique had detected anything, it would have already expelled the toxins by now.

The food was the same. Nothing on the table appeared suspicious.

"...I have a son," Mengcheon said suddenly.

Ah.

The problem wasn’t the food on the table.

I remained silent as Mengcheon drank alone. He emptied his cup, then immediately poured himself another.

"My son is nothing like you. Not even close. Being my firstborn, I spoiled him far too much."

"If I had children, I would probably act the same as you, Sect Leader."

"Look at you—such natural consideration. That’s something only someone who has weathered life’s hardships can show. My son doesn’t have that. He’s never faced danger, never overcome challenges... never experienced anything."

Mengcheon chuckled bitterly.

"The Black Sky Axe Sect. Our clan has always mastered the axe. I, too, along with all our disciples, learned to wield it. It’s a weapon with its flaws but also great advantages. Much like the principles of life—strengths and weaknesses in balance."

"......"

"My son didn’t want to learn it. So I hired a martial arts instructor for him. But even that he rejected. He’s always said he wouldn’t touch anything unless it was the pinnacle of martial arts."

"That must be frustrating."

"Frustrating doesn’t begin to describe it, Sohong. I once had a second son. But he’s gone now. Do you know how he died?"

Mengcheon toyed with his cup, his voice heavy.

"He was playing near the lake. By the time the firstborn screamed in panic, it was too late. After that, I had all the lakes in the estate removed. But no matter what, my second son wasn’t coming back."

"......"

"My wife took her own life after that. She blamed herself for his death, thinking her negligence had killed him. She left no note."

"Sect Leader..."

"There’s no need to offer me forced sympathy. I’m fine. Loneliness burrows into your bones, but eventually, it becomes a part of you. And I still have my firstborn. I swore at my wife’s grave that I would raise him well."

"Allow me to pour for you."

"No need. I have hands."

Mengcheon filled his cup again and downed it.

"But the firstborn has no talent. Worse, his temperament is cruel. He constantly torments the servants. Do you know how many attendants’ bodies have been found within the Black Sky Axe Sect? Many. And everyone here knows who’s responsible."

"......."

"Sometimes, I wonder if I should have disciplined him properly earlier. These thoughts consume my days. Lately, I’ve found it harder and harder to concentrate on my work. Ever since he changed, my hands tremble occasionally. I can no longer grip my axe properly."

Mengcheon muttered despondently.

"A sect leader who can’t wield his axe, consumed by inner demons... isn’t that laughable? But I’ve come to accept it as my burden. I failed to raise a good son, and this is my punishment."

"......."

I had gained critical information.

But I hesitated.

Mengcheon was weaker than I had imagined—not as a martial artist, but as a man. He was no more than a father grappling with his failures.

I picked at the food on the table, chewing slowly as the lump in my throat made it difficult to swallow. I washed it down with a sip of wine.

Mengcheon refilled my empty cup.

"A sad story, isn’t it? Sohong, I brought you here for this reason."

"Do you need something from me, Sect Leader?"

"Just as you’re doing now. Listen to me. That’s all I ask. I’ve held this in for so long. As the sect leader, I’m the pillar of this clan. If the pillar shakes, the entire sect collapses. I can’t show weakness to anyone close to me."

"But why confide in a stranger like me?"

"You practiced the Three Element Sword Technique for ten years. A sword reflects its wielder. Even if you lack talent, your perseverance is evident. A man like that is trustworthy. Come back tomorrow, and I’ll reward you handsomely."

Mengcheon chuckled softly.

"Forgive me for burdening you with an old man’s troubles, Sohong."

"......."

There might be more to learn.

And there was no harm in humoring him for the next five days.

"I understand, Sect Leader."

"Thank you."

I relayed everything to Number 29.

She stared at me intently.

"It’s best to maintain this connection. For now, it’s safer this way."

"You think so too, Number 29?"

"Are you okay with it?"

"Of course."

Number 29 turned away, her voice firm.

"Keep being okay with it. Don’t change your mind. Remember, we’re the Blood Demon Squad. Not hunters."

"...I understand."

The next day, Mengcheon greeted me with a hearty laugh and handed me a pouch of money.

"This is from my personal funds."

"It’s too much."

"Not at all. It’s a friend’s fee, wouldn’t you say? Sohong, what did you do today?"

"I searched the mountains for game but found none."

"Such diligence. If only my son shared even a fraction of your work ethic."

Mengcheon’s conversation revolved around complaints about his son. But beneath his dissatisfaction lay something else.

"Once, he brought something to me. I thought it was another one of his mischiefs. But no—it was a bottle of wine. He left it at my door. He’s not entirely bad, you know."

"He’s likely still the same in some ways."

"Hardly, Sohong. He’s changed. His appetite has grown insatiable, and as his body grows heavier, his temper worsens. I’ve called for distant physicians, even a disciple of the famed Master of All Medicine. They’ll arrive soon. Until then, I’m trying to appease him as much as possible."

Mengcheon took another drink, then glanced at me.

"Even if he’s gained weight, it can be lost, right?"

"Of course, Sect Leader."

"I’m sure his illness is the reason for his behavior. Once it’s cured, everything will return to normal."

"......."

"If I don’t believe in him, who else will?"

Mengcheon was, above all else, a father.

And a surprisingly humorous man.

"Ever thought about learning the axe?"

"If I did, everything I’ve said would be meaningless."

"Haha! Just a joke. You’re quite serious, aren’t you?"

"Not always."

"A man should be firm, you know."

"Sect Leader."

"Alright, alright."

I sighed as he chuckled mischievously.

"You’re quite drunk."

"Am I? Perhaps. I’ve kept you too long, haven’t I? Go for now. We’ll meet again tomorrow."

"Drinking every day isn’t healthy."

"Then tomorrow, we’ll try something else."

Mengcheon stood in the garden the next day, holding an axe. He gestured for me to approach.

"A man should enjoy more than just drinking. Otherwise, he’ll end up a beggar, don’t you think?"

"I wouldn’t dare match blades with you."

"I know. Just watch. I’m trying to recover from this slump."

Mengcheon’s axe moved. Its strikes were brutal and decisive, tearing through the air with precision.

The wind from his swings brushed past my face.

"What do you think?"

"Impressive."

"Isn’t it? But my son says it’s worthless."

That was a statement one should never make.

Through his movements, I could see the weight of years, the sorrow etched into every swing.

"The best axe technique I’ve seen, Sect Leader."

"Do you mean that?"

"You praised my Three Element Sword Technique. I believe that praise is more fitting for you."

"Does that mean I lack talent?"

"...That’s not what I meant!"

"Haha! You’ve never raised your voice like that before."

Mengcheon laughed heartily.

"How about we cross blades lightly?"

"If you’re willing."

"Don’t worry. I’ll adjust for you. Martial artists have long said that crossing blades is like peering into each other’s souls."

Mengcheon handed me a sword.

"Let’s share more through our blades, Sohong."

"Very well."

I grasped the sword firmly. This was my chance to study Mengcheon’s technique.

Despite my best efforts, I was defeated. Yet, I gained valuable insights.

"Your sword is heavy, Sohong. Truly heavy."

"Still, I couldn’t match your axe."

"For now. But the stories woven into your sword will one day make it as heavy as a mountain."

Mengcheon smiled.

"One day, it may weigh more than the heaviest boulder."

I bowed deeply.

As I left the estate, I realized something.

I couldn’t kill Mengcheon.

From the moment he referred to me as his son, even briefly, I knew...

I couldn’t kill him.

"Number 30."

"...Yes?"

"Tomorrow is the mission. You know that, right?"

"I do."

I gripped my sword, staring into the night.

How will this end?

I stayed awake all night, wrestling with my thoughts.

The next morning, I returned to the Black Sky Axe Sect, hoping for one last conversation with Mengcheon.

But instead...

"The Sect Leader is dead."

He was gone.

Before I could draw my sword.

"He died in an accident while treating his eldest son, Meng Souun. A disciple of the Master of All Medicine confirmed it."

The gatekeeper’s face twisted with grief, like someone resigned to the unfairness of the world.

"Go back, Sohong. There’s no one here who will welcome you anymore."