The forest felt too still. No cicadas. No rustling birds. Just the sound of Baek Sun-Ho's footfalls—silent, calculated, spaced evenly across damp soil.
He crouched, fingertips brushing the faint trail left behind: a snapped reed here, a boot imprint angled too sharply there. Four men, based on the spacing. Moving quickly. One of them heavier. Carrying something.
> Yeon.
His jaw tightened.
Wheee—
A breeze stirred the grass, brushing the side of his face like a whisper.
He shut his eyes.
> "You seem irritated."
His master's voice rang clear in memory—serene and knowing.
> "It's not anger," Sun-Ho had replied. "I missed a chance to break through. My body failed me. And now… someone I care about is gone."
Jang Cheol-Oh had folded his arms.
> "You're close to the Grandmaster Realm. That edge—it won't bend for emotion. Only for resolve."
"A blade isn't forged in warmth. It's hammered in fire."
Sun-Ho had said nothing. Just clenched his fists.
> "If you want that power," the master added, "bury it. Lock it away. Only unseal it when there's no other path."
Now, moving through shadows, Sun-Ho whispered back to the memory, "Understood, Master."
---
He spotted the hideout just before sundown: a forgotten outpost buried in the forest, stone walls half-swallowed by vines. He melted into the brush, close enough to hear voices.
"We're not keeping him, right?"
"Course not. Some merchant from the coast wants a quiet brat. No fuss. High price."
"Kid's weird though. Don't blink, don't scream. Like he's broken already."
A third laughed. "Perfect for resale."
Sun-Ho's fingers curled.
Tchk.
A spark of flame danced across his palm, then vanished into the moss.
---
He circled the perimeter silently. One man leaned lazily near the south wall.
Sun-Ho snapped a twig with a tossed stone.
Crk.
The guard turned. A faint light flickered by the tree line.
"Who's there?"
He stepped closer.
Too late.
Thud.
A pressure point strike to the neck, followed by the soft collapse of his body onto a bed of leaves.
---
Inside, another thug squatted near a crate, sharpening a knife. He glanced over at Yeon, who sat tied to a beam, still expressionless.
"You don't talk, do you?"
Yeon didn't move.
"Creepy little—"
Fshhh.
A nearby torch flared suddenly—spitting sparks.
The thug looked up. "Huh—?"
Whump.
The door behind him swung open.
A gust of wind.
Then—
Thwack.
His body hit the wall before he even saw who moved.
---
Yeon blinked.
Sun-Ho stood over him, hands working through the ropes with quiet ease.
"You okay?"
The boy nodded, eyes fixed on Sun-Ho's face like he was memorizing every detail.
Sun-Ho smiled. "Hope you weren't planning to escape on your own. Would've made me look bad."
A rustle behind them.
Another thug—furious, wide-eyed, swinging a blade.
Sun-Ho turned.
No fear.
No anger.
Just a flick of his wrist.
Krrkk.
A thread of flame split the air—not bright, not loud, but sharp and controlled. It seared across the man's weapon, melting the blade clean in half before singing his clothes and sending him sprawling.
The man groaned and passed out.
Yeon's eyes widened.
Sun-Ho exhaled softly. Then looked at his hand.
> I only let it burn for a moment…
He lifted Yeon in his arms. "Let's go home."
---
By nightfall, they returned.
Ma-Rok and Yul-Rin stood by the fire. So-Ri rushed forward. "Where—?"
Sun-Ho stepped out of the shadows with Yeon on his back, arms tucked around his neck.
"He's fine," Sun-Ho said. "Little singed, maybe. But whole."
Yeon slid off and stood upright, eyes scanning the camp like it was the only place he wanted to be.
So-Ri dropped her bow. "You could've waited."
"You would've followed," he said simply. "And someone would've died."
Yul-Rin raised an eyebrow. "You're not wrong."
Ma-Rok handed him a waterskin. "Next time, give us something to punch."
Sun-Ho took a long drink.
Yeon walked over and tugged his sleeve.
Sun-Ho looked down.
No words.
Just a hand on his.
Sun-Ho grinned. "What? You miss the ropes already?"
Yeon shook his head slowly. Then sat beside him—close.
Too close to be anything but deliberate.
---
Later that night, after the fire had burned low, Sun-Ho sat beneath the stars. So-Ri joined him, quiet as ever.
"He's opened up," she said.
"A little."
"Because of you."
Sun-Ho shrugged. "Maybe he just likes dramatic rescues."
She nudged his shoulder. "Or maybe he trusts you."
They sat in silence.
Above them, a faint trail of smoke curled into the night sky.
---
[End of Chapter 19]