“We’ll go prepare the room you’ll be staying in.”
“…Very well. Do so.”
As Jae-ha stepped back and bowed, Su-min somehow managed to answer smoothly. Even in the middle of this tense situation, his quick thinking was remarkable.
Jae-ha gave a polite bow to the general standing in front of Su-min as well, but he could feel the man’s eyes linger on him for far too long. …What’s this? Did he realize I’m human? Heart pounding nervously, he walked away, half-expecting to be called back, but the general didn’t stop him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Hae-hyun following close behind.
Quickening his pace, he soon left Su-min and the general behind. Hang in there, Su-min. Cheering him on silently, Jae-ha whispered to Hae-hyun.
“We don’t know when we’ll get exposed. Let’s move fast.”
Hae-hyun nodded at once, clearly thinking the same. Still, he glanced back now and then, worry for Su-min flickering across his face no matter how he tried to hide it.
“That guy’s really no help at all.”
…Ah. Jae-ha admitted quietly to himself that his own thoughts had been far too trusting.
The building was enormous, making it difficult to decide where to start. After a brief discussion, the two agreed to search from the top down.
“The very top floor should be Lord Yeomjeong’s quarters, along with those of his closest aides. If we get caught there, we’re done for. It’s safer to start one level below.”
Following Hae-hyun’s reasoning, they skipped the topmost floor. As they climbed the stairs, they stayed alert without looking suspicious, but no guards or guests seemed to notice them at all.
One level down from the top appeared to be the guest rooms. The reason was obvious—it was far more crowded than any other floor they’d passed.
At the center of the level was a massive room, all its sliding doors thrown wide open. It felt more like a lobby than a private chamber. Bookshelves stretched up to the ceiling, while several sofas and tables were neatly arranged inside—clearly a reception lounge.
Groups of people were gathered here and there, some reading, others playing baduk, and still others chatting casually. It was long past midnight, but none of them looked the least bit tired—hardly surprising, since most weren’t human.
All right, let’s get started. Just as Jae-ha was about to step forward, a hand shot out to stop him.
“Where are you going?”
“Huh? To ask—”
Hae-hyun scowled.
“You really think they’ll just hand over that kind of information?”
…Wouldn’t they? Things like Hwanggwaju or Baeksa fruit hardly seemed like secrets. Surely someone would mention it if asked. But when Jae-ha glanced toward the clusters of people, Hae-hyun quickly blocked his view.
“One wrong move and we could get thrown straight out of the fortress. Don’t go talking to strangers. Just sit tight here.”
“Uh… okay…”
…Was asking around really that risky? It seemed odd, but since Hae-hyun knew the Celestial Realm better, he probably had his reasons. After one more stern warning to stay put, Hae-hyun slipped away into the crowd. Judging from the way he moved silently, he clearly wasn’t planning on chatting with anyone either.
Left standing alone, Jae-ha blinked. …So what exactly am I supposed to do?
Glancing around, he chose an empty sofa and sat down. Standing stiffly at the entrance would look more suspicious. Thankfully, there were plenty of seats for guests, so he blended in without attracting notice.
“……”
So all I have to do is sit here quietly? The thought left him oddly deflated. He leaned back against the chair, posture loosening. At this rate, he’d just end up people-watching like some idle noble. He wasn’t the most sociable person, but choosing not to act and being unable to act were very different. Sitting idle already made him restless.
He didn’t know how much time had passed when faint voices drifted from a little distance away. Their tones were so subdued that he had to strain to hear, but for now they were like his only radio station.
“Lord Yeomjeong hasn’t shown himself. Is he sick?”
“The man’s practically a corpse aside from his health—of course he isn’t sick. He’s probably just shut himself away to avoid entertaining guests.”
“Honestly. His aversion to people seems to get worse every year.”
“I saw him in the corridor yesterday and tried to greet him, but he barely even looked at me before vanishing upstairs. Anyone watching would think he was hiding a treasure trove or something.”
Pieces clattered faintly between their words—they were likely playing baduk.
“Tomorrow’s competition, Myeongheoseong is fielding General Beomgye, isn’t it? I spoke with him briefly earlier—not someone to take lightly.”
“General Beomgye? Did he compete last time?”
“No. That’s why General Gyosa won.”
“Lord Yeomjeong is stingy as ever. Everyone knows how strong Beomgye is. What’s so hard about giving up one Baeksa fruit?”
“Exactly. Won’t show his face, won’t share the fruit—terrible hospitality.”
Tongue-clicks sounded in unison, followed by a softer voice.
“…Still, this place really is beautiful, isn’t it?”
“True. Whatever else, Yeomjeong has an eye for beauty. I’m even thinking of bringing my wife next competition.”
“Good idea. Then a hundred years from now, the four of us can come together.”
“That would be splendid!”
Their laughter faded, replaced by the rolling of stones across the baduk board. Just as Jae-ha was slipping back into boredom, voices rose from another side.
“Haha, Lord Cheongryong?”
“He’s always been the emotional type. And I heard the wager was steep—losing must have been galling.”
“Then surely thunder came crashing down.”
Unfortunately, even those murmurs dwindled as time passed, until silence settled near him. The room remained lively, yet Jae-ha alone felt utterly isolated.
It was a completely foreign experience.
Never in his life had he been in a room full of people without someone approaching him. And it wasn’t bragging—he had genuinely never been left alone for more than thirty seconds in any group setting.
A strange sense of dissonance prickled along his skin. Only belatedly did it occur to him that this might be the perception-masking spell Hae-hyun had cast.
In the inner court, he’d been actively speaking with people, so he hadn’t noticed. But sitting still, the effect was clear. Everyone acted as though he wasn’t there—not ignoring him outright, but overlooking him like a decorative vase in the corner.
Magic was incredible. He almost wanted to learn it himself. If only his spiritual energy weren’t so pitifully weak, he would’ve begged Hae-hyun to teach him some simple spells by now.
…Wait, doesn’t that mean I don’t have to just sit here? I could at least look around.
He rose cautiously, but no one noticed.
Still, he didn’t dare speak to anyone—once he drew attention, the spell might falter. Instead, he wandered toward a quiet bookshelf and pulled out a random book. Unfortunately, most were written in Hanja or other scripts he couldn’t read. With no choice, he grabbed one at random and carried it back to his seat.
Maybe if he studied the pictures, he could pass the time until Hae-hyun returned. Luckily, the book contained occasional illustrations—symbols that looked like formulas.
He stared hard at them, as if sheer focus might reveal their meaning. That’s when a voice suddenly spoke beside him.
“You’ve chosen an unusual book.”
Huh? Startled, Jae-ha looked up.
A man stood before him, adorned with dangling earrings and glittering ornaments in his hair. His features were soft and delicate, his eyelashes long—more beautiful than handsome. If not for his tall frame and broad shoulders, it would’ve been easy to mistake him for a woman.
“Uh… is that so?”
Flustered, Jae-ha’s reply came late, but the man didn’t seem to mind.
“Indeed. Even people of the Dragon Palace rarely read histories of their own realm.”
So this was that kind of book? Jae-ha awkwardly flipped a page, too embarrassed to admit he couldn’t read a word.
“I know someone with ties to it.”
