Chapter 120

 

“What do you mean? Who are we supposed to avoid?”

Without warning, Yungak delivered a harsh kick to Iyeok, who had been about to yank the reins. The man’s large, heavy frame tumbled helplessly to the ground.

Tsk. Something was wrong. Normally, Iyeok would not have so much as flinched, let alone fallen back.

As he pushed himself up with his palms, Iyeok coughed violently, spattering blood. Yungak’s brows knitted. Iyeok wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then dropped to his knees and slammed his forehead against the earth with an audible thud.

“The Emperor seems to have discovered everything. Imperial troops—His Majesty’s forces—have stormed Moran’s hideout!”

“…My brother?”

For a moment, Yungak wondered if he had misheard. His grip on the reins tightened instinctively.

Moran’s hideout had always been far from the imperial palace, deep in the former lands of the Yan Kingdom. Whenever imperial forces pursued them to eradicate the remnants of the fallen nation, they had used their intimate knowledge of the terrain to inflict confusion and casualties. The people who had gone into hiding there gradually formed a settlement—Moran’s hideout.

Their goal was to find the last heir of Yan and rebuild their nation.

When news spread that Jeokbi was still alive, Moran relocated to the Zhang River, where her clan resided. When Jeokbi became a consort of the late emperor, the group moved once again, this time to a site near the present imperial palace, to protect both her and her son, Yungak.

Throughout all this time, neither the great-grandfather emperor, the previous emperor, nor the current one had known of Moran’s existence—or so Yungak and the entire Peony believed. Until only recently.

But Moran’s hideout?! How could Haban possibly know of it?!

“Are you certain?”

“……”

“Are you absolutely certain it’s imperial troops?”

“…Yes.”

Pressed fiercely, Iyeok answered with difficulty, rage rising at the memory.

At the time, he had left the hideout briefly to guard a separate house deep in the mountains. It was there that he was supposed to meet Moran, who had promised to smuggle the fox out.

But when the appointed time passed and she never arrived, he knew something had gone wrong. Rushing back to the hideout, he found it already in ruins.

Moran lay dead, sword still clutched in her hand, surrounded by ranks of soldiers.

Forced to flee to avoid being discovered, Iyeok nonetheless clearly saw the banners they carried—the imperial standard itself.

That had been three days ago.

“…I saw the banner with my own eyes.”

“……”

Yungak’s face turned deathly pale at Iyeok’s words.

He had never imagined such a situation. At worst, he had expected suspicion over the missing fox—nothing more. He never dreamed that during his journey to the Zhang River, Haban would uncover Moran and wipe them out.

“There’s no time left! We must flee—!”

As Iyeok urged his horse forward, Yungak grabbed his arm in desperation.

“And Moran? What happened to them?! How many survivors?!”

“…They’ve been annihilated.”

Yungak’s vision went white. His breath came ragged and fast.

Iyeok would never lie to him. Yet the idea that the entire Peony had been wiped out was impossible to accept.

“…No. We’re going to the palace. I need to confirm this myself.”

“You mustn’t!”

Iyeok hastily blocked the horse’s path. The startled animal reared, forelegs flailing. Thrown off balance, Yungak lost his grip on the reins and fell from the saddle.

“Argh!”

The impact was brutal. Iyeok, who had lunged to catch him, quickly helped him to his feet.

“Are you all right?”

“Never mind Moran—what about the ministers? The ones who swore to stand with us!”

Shoving Iyeok’s chest irritably as he struggled upright, Yungak demanded an answer.

“…They were all taken to the palace.”

“Every last one of them?”

“Yes. Somehow, even those who had infiltrated the palace have been completely cut off.”

How could that even be? The attack on Moran and the exposure of their allies all at once?

“Why am I only hearing this now?!”

“…I’m sorry.”

Iyeok bowed his head in silence. At that sight, Yungak finally realized the truth.

They had failed. Just like that—so pathetically, without accomplishing anything.

His breathing grew harsh. Before he could sort through the chaos in his head, Iyeok grabbed the reins of the still-agitated horse.

“Imperial troops are waiting inside the capital walls. It’s fortunate I heard you left ahead of the carriage. Allow me to escort you.”

“……”

Yungak couldn’t speak. No coherent thoughts came to him. Yet one thing was clear: remaining here would be perilous.

Thud.

With a frustrated shove, he mounted the horse. His clothes were filthy, his hair disheveled—he had no time to care. He cursed himself for dressing finely just to mock Haban over the missing fox; now it only added insult to injury.

Led by Iyeok, the horse trudged up the mountain path. The sight was a far cry from the resplendent carriage and laden wagons with which he had once left the palace.

The search party that had gone into the mountains had yet to return. Haban stood outside the side gate, waiting.

At that moment, a courier arrived from the palace. He had ridden so hard that he collapsed, gasping, before dropping to one knee and holding up a message with both hands.

Unfolding the paper, Haban saw Chancellor Geumhu’s hastily scrawled handwriting.

“—!”

Yungak had vanished en route. Haban nearly shouted aloud.

He had carefully concealed the plan until Yungak entered the capital, deliberately waiting to apprehend him within the palace to avoid arousing suspicion or giving him cause to flee. And yet somehow, Yungak was gone. The shadow guard assigned to tail him had been found dead as well.

He had been so meticulous—how could this have happened?!

Moran, secretly nurtured by Yungak, had been surrounded and annihilated in their hideout, the noose tightened so completely that none escaped.

Moreover, aside from the leaders, the rest of them had no tongues—rendering them useless as informants. Haban had ordered them all executed, lest any oversight allow news to reach Yungak. He had even confirmed the massacre personally.

The palace servants had long since been dealt with. The covertly captured ministers had also been beheaded. All that remained was to wait for the unsuspecting Yungak to arrive at the palace. Soon, he would reclaim his precious fox.

…But everything had gone awry.

Just then, the search party appeared. At their head, Jippyeong’s eyes widened at the sight of the emperor outside the gate. He rushed forward.

“Your Majesty! Why are you here?!”

“They’ve yet to return?”

“…My apologies. Fortunately, this mountain has few people and long-established settlements, so wild beasts rarely appear. If the fox shows itself, there is little danger and it will be easily spotted.”

Haban’s jaw tightened. Even as Jippyeong spoke of resuming the search after a short rest, impatience consumed him. Yungak had disappeared—and fear for Dori’s safety eclipsed all else.

He could not stand idle. Unless he saw for himself, the anxiety would never leave him.

“Lead the way.”

“Pardon? No, Your Majesty, you mustn’t! We’ve set many traps—it’s dangerous.”

Jippyeong tried to dissuade him, unsure what news had come from the palace to provoke this urgency.

“What? And if that child steps on one of your traps?!”

“They’re not sharp weapons—merely snares to catch an ankle or pits to fall into. They’re safe, I assure you.”

“Safe? You dare call that safe? Perhaps I should hang you from one to see if you think so then!”

The image of the white fox stepping on a trap, injuring its ankle—its particular fear of hurting that limb—stabbed through Haban’s chest like a blade.

“I’ll order them removed at once, so please, Your Majesty—”

“Stand aside.”

Flustered, Jippyeong could do nothing to stop the emperor once he had resolved himself.

Thus Haban joined the search himself. Soldiers bearing torches spread out, shielding the flames so the light was dimmed and might not scare the fox. Each man crouched low, peering beneath the brush.

Haban did the same, eyes sharp, scanning every corner. He had not neglected the search while in the palace either.

‘Bring it back unharmed—not even a single hair out of place.’

The palace servant who had confessed to drugging the white fox with sleeping incense and smuggling it out in a sack revealed he had handed the sack to a eunuch from Yungak’s quarters. Yet that eunuch had long since fled.

No one knew the eunuch’s true identity; likely, he had never been palace staff at all.

Haban had therefore been forced to trace possible routes the smuggler might have taken. But heavy rains had erased all tracks, making the search nearly impossible. There was still no progress.

His face grew heavy with despair. And so he failed to notice the white fox peeking at him from a distance, hidden among the brush.

“Peony” (모란 / Moran) here isn’t literally a flower — it’s the name of the rebel group and their leader