It happened so suddenly. Jae-ha followed Hae-hyun’s gaze, but aside from a single large painting on the wall, there was nothing there.
“What is it?”
“Over there… something feels off. The energy is gathering.”
Jae-ha glanced at the painting again, but nothing new struck him. It was just a landscape of blossoming trees, petals drifting in the air, lines drawn with elegance. To him, that was all.
“Is it dangerous?”
“No, not like that… wait a second.”
Hae-hyun pulled out the entry talisman he’d stolen earlier from General Beomgye. He brushed the jade token lightly across the painting, and its edges faintly glimmered.
…What? Jae-ha narrowed his eyes, staring hard.
Was it his imagination? One of the flowers in full bloom seemed to ripple, as if swayed by a breeze.
“I knew it…”
Hae-hyun stepped closer, eyes gleaming with certainty as he studied the intricately painted trees.
“This is a doorway.”
“A doorway?”
Jae-ha looked again, but to him it was still just a painting. There wasn’t even an image of a door hidden inside — just scenery. Unable to understand, he repeated himself, and Hae-hyun explained further.
“It links spaces. Not powerful enough to take us far, but it should connect to another place within the fortress.”
“I see…”
Fascinating as it was, Jae-ha hesitated. They weren’t here to explore the fortress. And if this required the general’s talisman to open, then whatever lay beyond wasn’t ordinary.
Their destination wasn’t some hidden chamber — it was Nam-yeon’s room, somewhere on this floor. Once General Gyosa left, they needed to be there immediately.
Then—
“Who’s there?”
Both froze.
That aged, resonant voice was the same one that had greeted Su-min earlier. When had he gotten so close? They exchanged uneasy looks.
Luckily, General Gyosa was still around the corner, not yet in sight, but his voice was much nearer now. He was definitely approaching. Time was running out.
“What do we do?”
They looked around in panic. No place to hide. Forcing their way into a locked room would only expose them faster.
That left only one option.
“Let’s go in.”
Hae-hyun clearly had the same thought. Jae-ha, though, hesitated. Rushing into the unknown felt reckless. What if it was more dangerous than staying here?
Maybe bluffing their way past Gyosa would be better. He wouldn’t kill someone tied to Su-min outright, would he?
But Jae-ha immediately shook the thought away. Something about meeting General Gyosa right now felt wrong. And his instincts — he knew from experience — rarely failed him.
Things had been going too smoothly. With a quiet sigh, he clasped Hae-hyun’s outstretched hand.
Hae-hyun pressed the talisman against the painting again. The blossoms seemed to scatter, and then—flash. White light swallowed their vision.
“If anyone’s there…”
General Gyosa rounded the corner a moment too late, his words trailing off. He scanned the corridor with sharp eyes, but the faint presence he’d felt moments earlier was gone without a trace.
“…There was someone.”
His muttered words were startlingly calm. He couldn’t have imagined it — which meant only two possibilities: someone skilled enough to deceive a Celestial general, or someone who had truly just vanished.
“Well… all things return to their proper place. Fate, after all.”
His voice was soft as he turned back and walked away. This time the corridor settled into true, silent stillness.
***
Jae-ha opened his eyes, which he’d instinctively clenched shut, and found himself facing an entirely new scene. He blinked, dazed, at the unfamiliar surroundings.
The wooden walls and floors from before had vanished, replaced by solid stone. Cold seeped from the masonry, making it feel like they’d stepped outdoors.
“We’re on a lower level,” Hae-hyun said after scanning the area.
Jae-ha agreed. No matter how strange another world’s architecture might be, stone wasn’t built on top of wood.
At the end of the dead-end corridor behind them hung a massive tapestry. It wasn’t the same painting they’d entered through, but it was obvious — that was their way out.
Since they couldn’t leave right away, they decided to explore. They walked on, guided by the soft lamps lining the corridor. The air was dim and cold, but there were no traps or wards laid here. For a doorway hidden inside a painting, the journey was surprisingly uneventful.
“Is there really anything important here?”
Speaking absently, Jae-ha glanced ahead. A fork in the path came into view. …A maze? He looked back at Hae-hyun.
“Which way?”
“Left first.”
Hae-hyun answered instantly, turning without pause. He muttered under his breath — casting a detection spell, perhaps. As if confirming Jae-ha’s suspicion, a faint golden shimmer rippled and disappeared.
Thankfully, the place wasn’t an intricate labyrinth. The corridor curved, visible from the fork.
Compared to the upper floor, which had been decorated even on plain walls, this place was stark and bare. Nothing here at all? Puzzled, Jae-ha stepped deeper in — and froze. His dull gaze caught on a soft glimmer.
In the center of the clearing stood a tree.
It wasn’t much taller than him, but its full spread gave it a magnificent, dazzling presence. Despite the lack of sunlight, its round leaves shone a bright spring green, and its branches showed no sign of withering.
A single fruit hung from it, shimmering with iridescent light.
“Whoa…”
Jae-ha hurried closer, blinking as he studied it. The round, white fruit gleamed with shifting colors whenever the light touched it. He’d never seen anything like it, yet he felt he knew exactly what it was.
Snapping his head toward Hae-hyun, he nodded at the tree, excitement bubbling up like a child who’d found treasure.
“Look at that. It’s a Baeksa fruit tree.”
With a fruit like that, even if it tasted awful, people would pay a fortune for it. It looked more like a gemstone than something edible.
Is it just the skin that shines? Is the inside like a normal apple? Curiosity flickered as he admired the fruit’s brilliant hues, unable to tire of them.
But Hae-hyun’s reaction was unexpectedly flat.
“Seems so.”
“It’s gorgeous. No wonder everyone covets them.”
“If you say so.”
His glance at the opal-colored fruit was no different than looking at a stone by the roadside. He didn’t even stare long before turning his gaze on Jae-ha.
“Do you want it, sunbae?”
“Huh?”
“Do you want me to pick it for you?”
His expression was serious, as though ready to pluck it the moment Jae-ha said yes.
It threw him off.
“What are you talking about? What would I even do with it?”
Jae-ha chuckled. Just because something was in reach didn’t mean you could truly claim it. He’d learned that the hard way recently.
“Let’s just call it a rare gem we got to admire.”
It wasn’t that he didn’t want it — but he couldn’t be sure it was safe. Forcing his greed and causing disaster would be far worse.
“So what?”
Hae-hyun’s voice cut through his drifting thoughts. His brow creased faintly, his face casual yet stubborn.
“If you want it, take it.”
“……”
Jae-ha opened his mouth, then laughed instead.
“Our little Hae-hyun. Still a kid.”
“What?”
Hae-hyun bristled.
“What do you mean? I’m bigger than you, sunbae”
“What good is size if you still have baby fuzz on your face?”
“Don’t sound like an old man. There’s hardly any difference. You think you don’t still have baby fat?”
“Oh wow, look at those chubby cheeks.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
Hae-hyun fumed, demanding correction, but Jae-ha only kept teasing with feigned innocence. Seeing him flustered and annoyed oddly lightened Jae-ha’s mood. He realized he was still far from being grown-up himself. Even when he tried to be reflective, mischief kept bubbling up.
Silly Ju Hae-hyun. He didn’t even know who he was trying to lecture.
Doubling back, they took the right fork this time. Not far in, a massive door came into view. Unlike the left path, this one was short.
“What’s this place?”
It looked so suspicious that Jae-ha half wondered if it was a trap.
Standing before the door, Hae-hyun lifted the talisman again. White light spilled out, wrapped the door like a caress, then sank in. He pushed, and with a low clank, it eased open.
By this point, even Jae-ha had to admit it: the little trinket Hae-hyun had snatched like a mischievous pup was turning out to be far more useful than expected.
