“That’s possible.”
Jae-ha replied offhandedly, showing no real reaction even as someone clung subtly to his back. He always accepted other people’s touch with complete indifference.
If it had been Su-min or anyone else, he would’ve reacted the same. Whether someone hugged him, linked arms, or touched him however they pleased, he just let them. Sometimes he seemed so used to it that he didn’t even notice when people laid hands on him.
And Jae-ha himself had no hesitation in touching others. He would easily ruffle someone’s hair, pat their back, or drape an arm over their shoulders. If he spoke with someone shorter, he naturally tilted his head to meet their gaze. If someone asked for a drink, he’d hand it over without fuss. He even drank from straws others had already used, without the slightest hint of discomfort. His lack of boundaries was so extreme it was almost impossible to understand.
Suddenly, annoyance flared again.
Hae-hyun frowned and, without realizing it, tore at the grass beneath his knees. Rip, snap. The blades shredded in his grip. He brushed the bits off his hand with a sharp, irritable flick.
Once the silence settled again, the two resumed their search. The doll pointed them toward a section of carefully landscaped scenery, far removed from the artificial paths. After walking for a while through untouched trees, they came across a circular clearing.
“What’s this?”
Unlike the surrounding grass and flowers, the ground here was starkly bare. A round wooden platform, just wide enough for a single person, sat in the middle. It bore no patterns or markings, looking like it had simply been abandoned. Hidden beneath the garden’s grandeur, it was invisible from the outside.
When Jae-ha stopped in front of it, the doll stubbornly pointed at the platform. Clearly, it wanted him to stand on it. But… what if he didn’t? The thing reeked of suspicion.
“Sunbae, I think this has a spell on it.”
After a short look, Hae-hyun stretched out his hand. A faint golden aura seeped out, only to be drawn back into the wood. With that one gesture, he understood what the platform was.
“It’s a transport device.”
When infused with energy, it would send any living being standing on top of it to a designated location. Hae-hyun had never seen one before either, but he recognized it right away.
“The structure’s similar to a Guardian Talisman. Of course, those are much more sophisticated…”
“Don’t we need an access token for this?”
They had already handed theirs to Yeong-bin and were empty-handed. Fetching another one here was impossible. But Hae-hyun shook his head.
“No. It doesn’t look necessary. Instead, there’s a special condition… Are you sure the Cheonrok came through here?”
He asked the jade doll. It nodded vigorously. Muttering under his breath, Hae-hyun sent golden particles flowing into the platform. It glowed for a moment, then dimmed again. Lifting his head, he looked certain.
“It requires the energy of a specific being. But if the Cheonrok entered, then you, Sunbae, who carry its energy, should be able to follow.”
“I don’t know how to use energy, though.”
Jae-ha muttered uneasily. If it required channeling power like Hae-hyun had, wouldn’t he be blocked at the very start?
“No, that’s not necessary. As long as the Cheonrok’s energy is present on the platform when you travel, it’ll work. The activating energy can come from anyone.”
“Really?”
That was a relief. Still…
“…Are we sure it’s safe?”
The whole thing was unsettling. Why did this fortress have so many secret transport devices? This was clearly not an area meant for regular guests. On top of that, entry was tightly restricted. Suspicious wasn’t even the word—this was suspicion made flesh.
Seeing his hesitation, the doll tugged at the skin of his palm, miming loud sobs. Thankfully it had no voice—if it did, their eardrums would already be ruined.
Well… Finding the Cheonrok was their purpose here. And if this strange doll was leading them straight there, refusing just because it looked shady seemed even stranger. Fine. They’d go. Worst case, they could escape with the Guardian Talisman.
Jae-ha stepped onto the platform. Hae-hyun followed without hesitation.
With both of them standing there, the space was tight. To avoid being pushed off, Jae-ha steadied himself with a hand on Hae-hyun’s shoulder. Hae-hyun’s eyes flicked briefly to the touch, then slid away.
“Here we go.”
As Hae-hyun sent energy into it, the platform glowed faintly. Geometric patterns and Hanja characters lit up under their feet, then blinked out.
In the next moment, both of them vanished.
***
“You’re holding out well, I see.”
“Young blood has its perks.”
“Ah… thank you.”
Su-min gave a faint smile and sipped from the cup before him. It was tea, not alcohol—when he had politely refused to drink, they’d placed it in front of him instead.
Hours must have passed, but the banquet showed no sign of ending. Nobody suggested wrapping it up. It seemed everyone planned to drink until dawn, then attend tomorrow’s competition.
Su-min’s desire to leave and check on Jae-ha gnawed at him. But as the youngest present, with the lowest standing, it would be rude and conspicuous to slip out alone. And with Hwang-ryong—his direct superior—sitting right beside him, acting on his own was unthinkable.
Hwang-ryong had already caught him red-handed. Training body or not, Su-min had still come to the Myeongheoseong festival. Well, technically he hadn’t come to play—but if Hwang-ryong learned he’d nearly gone to hell for destroying Hallakung-nim’s flower fields, he would’ve collapsed clutching his chest. Su-min had resigned himself to being branded a scoundrel.
Thankfully, Hwang-ryong had let it slide, saying a bit of fresh air wasn’t so bad. But whether he’d allow Su-min to storm out of the banquet altogether was another matter.
“Not getting sleepy?”
The dragon beside him asked. His elegant tone never faltered. Despite having drunk more than anyone else here, he looked completely sober.
“No, Lord Hwang-ryong. I’m fine.”
Su-min answered meekly. After all the trouble he’d caused lately, groveling was the safest approach in front of Hwang-ryong. With a heavy inward sigh, he fiddled with his cup.
He couldn’t focus on anything happening at the feast. Even when Hwang-ryong pointed out the generals’ sword dance as an entertaining sight, Su-min offered only polite responses without truly looking. The more anxious he grew, the more tea he drank. By now he had already drained more than a jug.
“Yeomjeong, how long will you keep being so stubborn?”
At the head table sat Lord Yeomjeong, the fortress lord, surrounded by his close friends among the Celestial Lords. Since the beginning, Lord Tamlang had been snapping at him, while Cheonbu Seonggun tried to mediate. Judging by the lack of progress, it wasn’t working.
From what Su-min gathered, Lord Yeomjeong had gone back on a promise he’d once made to Lord Tamlang. Her temper was infamous throughout the Celestial Realm. The fact that she hadn’t torn the banquet apart, but instead confined herself to sharp, biting remarks, suggested she was desperate. Had he found some kind of leverage on her?
“I’ve already said my piece,” Lord Yeomjeong muttered languidly. Throughout the hastily arranged feast, he looked utterly bored. Neither a general’s display of skill nor a performer’s art stirred even his eyebrows. The only wonder was that he’d stayed this long at all.
“Then say something different.”
“And I am. I’m saying it’s fine.”
Lord Tamlang shot back immediately. As she shifted, the ornaments in her hair jingled faintly. She was dressed more lavishly than anyone else present.
“Stubborn.”
“And who’s the stubborn one here, huh?!”
Her voice rose sharply, frustration spilling out. Cheonbu Seonggun forced a smile, trying to ease the tension.
“Please, this is a joyous occasion. No need to alarm our guests.”
At that, the surrounding guests chuckled softly, their expressions somewhere between awkward and intrigued.
“It’s fine. They seem rather close.”
“Haha, indeed. I wonder what kind of treasure both of them desire so badly.”
Lord Yeomjeong didn’t answer, but Lord Tamlang gave a biting laugh.
“Out of everything he owns, there’s only one thing worth having.”
A divine relic? Su-min tilted his head. He had no idea what it might be, and honestly, he didn’t care. Whatever it was, it clearly had nothing to do with him.
