The Saengsamun leader looked at Jeok Seong with a bewildered expression.

"So, you’re telling me the person who took over our secret base was the Martial God Ilmushin?"

"That’s exactly what I’m saying. Just try to think of it as fate. It seems we were always meant to end up under Mushincheon."

"Heavens…"

They had managed to avoid him for so long.

But what could they do now?

How could anyone refuse the Martial God directly to his face?

That would be no different from asking him to annihilate Saengsamun.

"More importantly… You’re saying that cold and merciless man has someone he treasures?"

"Yes! And not just treasures—he adores him."

"But as far as I know, Ilmushin has no blood relatives."

"I thought so too, but after seeing him, I doubt it. No one acts like that unless it’s family."

"Could it be a disciple?"

"He doesn’t treat him like a disciple. And Ilmushin himself publicly declared he’d never take one."

"Then maybe a hidden disciple?"

"No, definitely not. Although… I’ll admit, the boy’s determination and mindset did make me briefly consider taking him as my own disciple."

"Hmm. Then who on earth is that child?"

"Since I’ll be by his side every day now, I’ll probably figure it out eventually."

"Good! Once you find out, make sure to tell me."

"Of course."

"It must be a lot of pressure for you, though, being tasked with guarding someone so important."

"Haa. I’ll just have to do my best."

"Still, the fact that he entrusted someone so precious to you means he trusts you."

"No, it’s not trust—it’s confidence. Confidence that I wouldn’t dare try anything."

Jeok Seong rose from his seat.

"I should get going. I can’t delay any longer."

"Right. Take care of yourself. If you need anything, let me know."

"Understood. Take care while I’m gone, Brother."

"You too. Be well."

 

"Greetings, young master! My name is Jeok Seong, and I’ll be serving you from today!"

"What? Serving me?"

"Yes, young master!"

Yeon Woo-jin turned to Yeon Cheon-baek with a puzzled expression.

"Grandpa, what’s going on?"

Yeon Cheon-baek was briefly mesmerized by Woo-jin’s adorable confusion before snapping out of it.

"Ah! Your grandpa might have to leave the house often, so I found someone to take care of you while I’m away."

"But I’m fine on my own."

"Don’t be ridiculous. Who’s to say something like this won’t happen again? I’d never be able to rest easy. Just do as I say."

"Okay."

"Hahaha! Such a good boy!"

Unable to hold back, Yeon Cheon-baek pulled Woo-jin into a tight hug.

Jeok Seong still couldn’t get used to it.

This was the Martial God of Mushincheon, a man so cold and unfeeling that he was said to lack human emotions entirely.

The most fearsome and powerful man in the central plains.

Jeok Seong had experienced that fear firsthand on their way to Saengsamun.

Yeon Cheon-baek had announced his arrival by unleashing an overwhelming aura that could shatter the wills of lesser men.

And yet, this gentle and warm smile—the tender words and doting gaze—felt completely out of place.

One thing was clear.

No matter what, Jeok Seong had to protect this child.

The consequences of failing were too horrifying to even imagine.

Jeok Seong suddenly grasped just how heavy his new responsibility was.

 

Although new servants had been hired, a cook had yet to be found.

For now, Jeok Seong filled the role.

He had dreamed of becoming a chef as a child, having been exceptionally skilled with knives.

Though he had since used those skills in a far different field, he was now putting his culinary talent to use at Ilmu Manor.

"Wow! This is so delicious!"

"Haha! Is that so?"

"Yes! It’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten!"

"Thank you, young master."

Jeok Seong scratched the back of his head, embarrassed by the praise.

It was… fulfilling.

Hearing Woo-jin’s compliments brought him a sense of pride and happiness he hadn’t felt before.

"This guy was called a culinary prodigy when he was young," Yeon Cheon-baek said.

"Really? No wonder! That’s amazing!"

Jeok Seong looked surprised.

How did Yeon Cheon-baek know that?

He was truly a frightening man.

"He was so skilled that he could’ve earned the prestigious title of Royal Chef if he had pursued it."

"Wow! That’s incredible!"

Woo-jin’s wide-eyed admiration made Jeok Seong smile.

Yes.

He had once dreamed of becoming a chef.

But that dream had been shattered in an instant.

It was because of the Blood Cult.

Jeok Seong had abandoned his dreams and entered the martial world, becoming an assassin to exact revenge.

And the man who had destroyed the Blood Cult…

Was standing right in front of him—Yeon Cheon-baek.

Did he lead an army to do it?

He had marched into the Blood Cult alone and wiped them off the face of the earth.

"Come to think of it, you gave up your dream of becoming a chef because of the Blood Cult, didn’t you? To avenge your parents. If I had known we’d end up like this, I would’ve taken you along when I went to destroy them."

He even knew about Jeok Seong’s hatred for the Blood Cult.

"It’s fine. That was a long time ago."

"No, actually. They’ve been rebuilding their forces recently. And this time, they’re stronger than before."

"What?"

Jeok Seong froze.

Hadn’t the Blood Cult already been eradicated?

Was this his chance for revenge?

He didn’t care about anyone else.

The Blood Cult Leader’s head would be his.

That was the reason he had become an assassin.

"Where are they?"

Jeok Seong’s eyes burned with intensity as he asked.

Yeon Cheon-baek frowned and said, "Look at you. Asking with that look makes me feel bad. I took care of them completely just a little while ago."

"What?"

Jeok Seong’s jaw dropped as Yeon Cheon-baek spoke about eradicating the Blood Cult as casually as one might talk about cleaning out a storage room.

"Should I have left the leader alive?"

He spoke as if leaving the Blood Cult Leader alive was no different from saving a piece of candy.

"No, it’s fine. I’m just grateful you avenged me."

"Tch. But revenge is always better when done personally."

A man capable of wiping out an organization as monstrous as the Blood Cult on his own.

He was definitely beyond human.

Yet here he was, completely at the mercy of a child.

 

After finishing the meal, Yeon Woo-jin asked, "Are you going to work again tomorrow?"

"That’s right. We need to work to make a living. That’s how the world works."

"Even someone as strong as you has to work?"

"Of course! Everyone has responsibilities. You’ll understand when you grow up."

"But I don’t want to be away from you… Can’t I come with you?"

Yeon Woo-jin’s words made Yeon Cheon-baek’s face soften with emotion.

But then, with a pained expression, he shook his head and forced himself to speak.

"I’d love to—but no. Wait! Didn’t you say you wanted to learn martial arts?"

"Yes!"

"Then why don’t you focus on training here?"

"Would that make you happy?"

"Of course! Nothing would make me happier than seeing you train hard."

"Then I’ll do it! I’ll train really hard!"

Hearing this, Yeon Cheon-baek’s face lit up again.

"My boy! You’re the reason I’m still alive at this age."

Jeok Seong still couldn’t get used to the sight.

Was this really the Yeon Cheon-baek he knew?

Just then, Yeon Cheon-baek’s voice rang in Jeok Seong’s head.

— "You’ll supervise Woo-jin’s training. Focus on improving his stamina and don’t push him too hard."

— "Understood!"

— "He mustn’t overexert himself. His meridians haven’t fully stabilized yet. No matter what, don’t push him too far."

— "Yes, sir."

It was clear.

Yeon Cheon-baek treated Woo-jin differently.

If it had been anyone else?

He would have ordered them to train to the point of collapse.

But to still have unstable meridians at his age?

Wasn’t that too late?

It didn’t matter.

Jeok Seong only needed to follow orders.

 

The day Yeon Cheon-baek left—after repeatedly instructing Jeok Seong to protect Woo-jin at all costs—Jeok Seong began supervising Woo-jin’s training.

And he was disappointed.

Woo-jin’s physique wasn’t good.

He didn’t have exceptional bones or muscles—just an average frame.

Questions started to arise.

Yeon Cheon-baek despised weakness.

Why was Woo-jin the exception?

Because he was his grandson?

That didn’t seem right.

No, more importantly—grandson?

Everyone knew Yeon Cheon-baek had no blood relatives.

Even if he had married, wouldn’t he need a son to have a grandson?

But there was no son in sight.

This led to a theory.

The first possibility:

Yeon Cheon-baek had a son who was weak and had hidden him.

And that son died, so he brought his grandson here.

But the grandson was also weak, so he hid him too.

Despite his weakness, Yeon Cheon-baek doted on him like any grandfather would.

Jeok Seong quickly dismissed this theory.

Even if it were true, there had to be limits.

Yeon Cheon-baek’s affection far exceeded those limits.

Which led to another theory:

Maybe Woo-jin was too exceptional to be exposed.

Jeok Seong stared at Woo-jin intensely but shook his head again.

He was struggling just to maintain a basic horse stance.

That theory seemed the least likely of all.

Then what was it?

“Could he really just find him cute and keep him hidden here to visit him from time to time?”

That also seemed unbelievable.

Jeok Seong felt like he was going to lose his mind from curiosity.

What exactly made Yeon Woo-jin so special?

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t figure it out.

Meanwhile, Yeon Woo-jin collapsed onto the ground.

Jeok Seong quickly turned to look and saw that his entire body was drenched in sweat.

An entire shijin (two hours) had passed.

Not once during that time had Woo-jin tried to take shortcuts; he maintained proper horse stance the entire time.

His perseverance was impressive.

But that alone couldn’t explain why Yeon Cheon-baek cherished him so much.

Mushincheon’s training was so harsh that something as basic as horse stance couldn’t even be considered proper training.

To endure life-or-death situations was the standard requirement for anyone in Mushincheon.

“I guess I’ll find out if I keep watching.”

It was only the first day.

No one gets full after a single meal.

Jeok Seong looked at the exhausted Yeon Woo-jin and said,

"Look forward to a delicious lunch."

Woo-jin’s bright smile lit up his face, and Jeok Seong couldn’t help but smile back.

That smile.

The more he saw it, the better he felt.

For a brief moment, he wondered if perhaps it was that very smile that made Yeon Cheon-baek care for him so much.

 

Three years passed.

Yeon Woo-jin was now thirteen years old.

Jeok Seong looked at him and shook his head.

Despite the long three years, Woo-jin’s martial arts were still at the beginner’s level.

Yet Yeon Cheon-baek’s love for Woo-jin remained unchanged.

No—if anything, it had grown even stronger.

He even said this:

"Don’t rush. So what if his martial arts don’t improve? It’s not like it’ll affect his life."

It was shocking.

Yeon Cheon-baek, a man who disdained the weak, actually said something like that.

And when Woo-jin looked discouraged, he had even fidgeted nervously, clearly distressed by the sight.

Watching Yeon Cheon-baek frantically trying to cheer Woo-jin up, Jeok Seong rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

Was he imagining things?

After finally calming Woo-jin down, Yeon Cheon-baek gave Jeok Seong instructions:

"I’ll bring some elixirs. In the meantime, make sure Woo-jin eats plenty of good food."

Apparently, he couldn’t bear to see Woo-jin disappointed any longer.

Encouraged by Yeon Cheon-baek’s promise of a solution, Woo-jin threw himself back into training.

He was smart.

He absorbed lessons quickly.

But his body simply couldn’t keep up.

He understood the techniques in his mind, but his body couldn’t execute them properly.

The biggest problem was his internal energy.

He was born with a weak dantian and couldn’t circulate Qi.

Because of that, he hadn’t been able to take elixirs carelessly up until now.

They couldn’t even let a physician examine him.

For some reason, Yeon Cheon-baek insisted on keeping Woo-jin completely hidden.

Thud.

Yeon Woo-jin dropped to the ground, exhausted from swinging his wooden sword.

He stared at the sword on the floor with a serious expression.

No matter how hard he stared, it wasn’t going to move on its own.

Or so Jeok Seong thought.

Then—

Rustle.

The wooden sword twitched.

"Huh? Did that sword just… move?"