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Chapter 28
A child should be the object of love, care, and affection.
That’s how it should be. A child must never be subjected to anything else.
…There was once a time when that was true for Jegal Seolha as well.
Once.
The Peach Blossom Constitution.
A constitution marked by the energy of the Peach Blossom Star, one of the celestial stems. A rare trait bestowed upon girls born under its influence.
But in truth, the Physique of Peach Blossoms was more a curse than a gift—because the peach blossom energy settled in the Upper Dantian.
The Upper Dantian—closest to the Baihui Acupoint, known as the gateway to heaven—was the spiritual core of the mind. Those who awakened it were often destined to become shamans, seers, or sorcerers.
Because once awakened, they could see what others could not and accomplish what others could only dream of.
Jegal Seolha, too, awakened a unique ability when the peach blossom energy rooted itself in her Upper Dantian. She discovered this when she was just five years old.
“Seolha, as a child of the Jegal Clan, it’s time for you to begin martial training.”
Traditionally, martial families began training their children as early as three. But the House of Jegal was different.
According to their family laws, no direct descendant was allowed to begin martial training before their fifth birthday.
The reason was simple:
The clan’s ultimate martial art—Hyunwon Jeondan Divine Technique—was unlike any other.
Hyunwon meant deep, mystical origins.
Jeondan implied a tree rooted entirely in a sacred altar.
In essence, the Hyunwon Jeondan Divine Technique was a meditative internal art that cultivated divine energy through the Upper Dantian.
It was the secret to why all direct descendants of the Jegal clan were brilliant, sharp-minded, and deeply knowledgeable in formations and mechanical arts.
“The Upper Dantian is an incredibly sensitive and dangerous place. Focus your mind, and operate the Hyunwon Jeondan Divine Technique with care.”
“Yes, Father!”
It was a rite of passage for every child born of the Jegal bloodline.
But no one had known—not even her—what lay dormant in Jegal Seolha’s constitution.
The fusion of the Hyunwon Jeondan Divine Technique with the Physique of Peach Blossoms became a curse for her.
“Aaaahhhhhh!”
“This can’t be—Seolha! Gah!”
The moment her scream, saturated with peach blossom energy, echoed through the hall…
She saw it.
The way her father’s loving gaze shifted in that brief, terrible moment.
She was too young to name the emotion—but she knew it was terrifying.
And then—what followed caused Jegal Seolha to scream all over again.
Her father, Jegal Seon, pierced his own palm with a blade.
Thunk!
“Aaaaaaaah! Father!”
Seolha ran to him in a panic, throwing herself into his arms.
Blood dripped from his hand, forming a crimson pool on the floor.
But the gaze that looked down at her now was filled once more with the same love as before.
“It’s okay, Seolha. Everything’s alright. You don’t have to worry.”
The uncontrolled rampage of the peach blossom energy—triggered by the divine technique.
And then, three years passed.
The once-bright, cheerful child became a silent girl, afflicted with mutism, clinging to her father’s side like a frightened bird.
Because she had seen it.
And understood it.
“I… hurt the people around me.”
Her father, upon hearing her scream, had stabbed his own hand to suppress his desire.
Even when she first met her older brother, someone so kind and gentle, she had still left him with a wound that could never be undone.
And others, too—those who came close to her were forced to feel shame, self-loathing, and humiliation simply because of what she was.
All because of her.
‘I can’t be around other people.’
And so, Jegal Seolha closed herself off completely. She locked her heart away.
Only her father and mother, who had built up resistance to the peach blossom energy by scarring their own bodies dozens of times, could remain by her side.
If she wanted to go her entire life without hurting anyone again, this was the only way.
That was her plan.
That was how it was supposed to be.
And yet—
‘Jegal Seolha.’
‘No matter what happens—don’t hide behind it.’
The energy rooted in her Upper Dantian granted Seolha a unique ability:
The faint power to perceive others’ thoughts and emotions—their mental impressions.
‘He’s covered in wounds… but solid like a rock. Like he’ll never break.’
That was what she sensed when she looked into Yang-hwi’s heart.
For someone her age, his mind was unbelievably strong—unyielding, and unshakable.
‘But me… Compared to him, I’m…’
Then suddenly, Seolha realized something.
Even though her face was hidden beneath a veil, and her voice never once left her lips—
Yang-hwi harbored no desire for her. Not even a flicker.
Even after spending several days in close proximity, surely exposed to the faint aura of peach blossom energy…
‘Don’t tell me… he’s actually resisting the effects of the peach blossom energy?’
Thump.
Her heart raced. How could that boy be so unaffected?
To the young Jegal Seolha, there was only one possible explanation:
An unshakable will—one so strong it was hard to believe they were the same age.
Something she herself didn’t have.
She had shut herself away, locked her heart, all so she wouldn’t hurt others.
She avoided them. Hid from them. Ran away.
But the boy standing in front of her—if he had been born with the same curse—she was certain he wouldn’t have made the same choice.
And in that instant, something long buried deep within her stirred.
‘...I don’t want to live the rest of my life like this.’
Jegal Seolha looked into Yang-hwi’s inner self once more.
Battered and bruised in every direction, yet standing tall like an unbreakable boulder.
Then, her gaze shifted—to the other presence in the room.
Someone whose inner world didn’t match their outward appearance at all.
“…”
A vast lake came to mind. A place as wide as the legendary Lake Dongjeong, said to be the largest in the realm.
Deep, calm, and still—yet its surface rippled gently with elegant rhythms.
‘She’s not just any ordinary girl. She must be…’
For someone to possess such a powerful mental presence in a moment like this…
The answer was obvious.
She stepped out from her father’s arms.
Her legs trembled as she walked—each step unsteady—as she approached that rippling lake.
Then, she fell to her knees.
“Lady Eumhu.”
Her lips moved, but no sound came out.
She hadn’t spoken in so long, her voice simply wouldn’t emerge.
The young girl—Jeom Soi—looked down at her silently.
And at that moment, Jegal Seolha realized something:
This required more than quiet will. It demanded courage. A clear act of intent.
So she raised her hand…
And removed the veil hiding her face.
The result—an achingly beautiful face, almost inhuman in its loveliness, despite being a child.
“Lady Eumhu.”
How long had it been since she last heard her own voice?
A burning pain flared from her unused vocal cords.
But she welcomed the pain. Because it meant she was speaking.
She bowed her head deeply.
“I, Jegal Seolha, humbly request to become your disciple.”
****
“I, Jegal Seolha, humbly request to become your disciple.”
The moment her voice rang out, the energy of the Peach Blossom Body spread throughout the inn.
In response, Yang-hwi immediately activated his Heavenly Harmony Art.
‘Incredible…’
If it had been anyone else, they’d have lost control—overcome by desire, captivated by her.
She truly was the future Soul-Enchanting Demon Queen—her natural aura was on a whole other level.
Meanwhile, Jegal Seon was stunned and rushed forward.
“Seolha? Y-you… you spoke…?”
It had been years since he’d heard his daughter’s voice—so the shock was overwhelming.
So much so, he didn’t even register that his daughter had addressed the young girl as “Eumhu.”
But—
He was forced to stop mid-step.
“What in the—?!”
A tremendous, formless force erupted from the girl known as Jeom Soi, preventing anyone from approaching.
“…”
She—no, Eumhu—remained silent, her gaze fixed calmly on Jegal Seolha.
As the silence stretched, Seolha lowered her head once more and repeated her plea.
“May I… become your disciple, Lady Eumhu?”
The peach blossom energy spread once again—this time with a rising, almost feverish warmth.
And yet, no one in the room—not even Eumhu herself—was affected.
Because a wave of unseen energy radiating from Eumhu had sealed off Jegal Seolha, containing the aura within and preventing its spread.
Yang-hwi, attuned to spiritual currents, saw it all clearly.
‘She can control formless energy to this degree? That’s Void Manipulation—on a terrifying level!’
Normally, Void Manipulation referred to the art of moving physical objects without touching them—via sheer force of will.
But Eumhu had taken it to a higher realm—containing even intangible energy, shaping invisible waves of power.
‘As expected of one of the Ten Sovereigns of the Martial World. And… so Seolha noticed it too.’
Jegal Seolha had shown strange insight from the very first moment they met.
So perhaps it wasn’t surprising that the moment she saw Jeom Soi, she’d recognized the truth.
In fact, the only person in the room not aware of Eumhu’s identity…
Was her own father, Jegal Seon.
‘…Well, I guess that makes two of us. I didn’t know either.’
Yang-hwi rushed toward Jegal Seon, pretending ignorance as he cried out,
“Uncle, did you hear what Seolha just said? She called Sister Jeom Soi ‘Lady Eumhu’—what’s going on—?”
But his words were cut short by a single, quiet sentence from Eumhu.
“Let’s not drag out this play any longer, Young master.”
“…Pardon?”
The girl known as Jeom Soi let out a soft sigh.
“Young master, someone at my level can even see what others try not to show.”
In that moment, Yang-hwi realized his mistake.
He had underestimated what it meant to stand before one of the Ten Sovereigns of the Martial World.
‘So she knew the whole time.’
Despite that, Eumhu had played along—acting the part of the servant girl—just to observe how Yang Hwi and his companions would respond.
“…I sincerely apologize for my rudeness, Lady Eumhu.”
“Since I was the one who acted outside decorum first, I will accept your apology.”
As the two exchanged words, Jegal Seon stood there, utterly dumbfounded.
“Eumhu… Did you say Eumhu? Seolha… Yang Hwi… How did you—? What is… going on here…?”
But Eumhu ignored the still-confused Jegal Seon, her gaze now resting quietly on his daughter.
“The heavens are cruel… to place such a curse on such a beautiful child.”
It was only then that Jegal Seon came to his senses.
“Lady Eumhu, I am deeply grateful for your presence here today, and though I have no right to ask—please grant me this one request.”
He fell to his knees with a heavy thud.
“Please… accept Seolha as your disciple and release her from this curse!”
“…”
A small lord from one of the Five Great Clans had dropped to his knees.
But Eumhu accepted this as natural.
Such was the stature of a Martial Saint in the modern world of the martial realm.
The girl silently studied the kneeling man for a moment.
Then, her delicate lips parted.
“Haa… Even if I were to take her in, becoming my disciple will not lift the heavenly curse.”
“But—! If she could learn the Supreme Arts of the Sound Jade Spirit Sect, then at least the peach blossom energy spreading through her voice could be suppressed!”
The Sound Jade Spirit Sect, a mystic lineage passed down through single disciples for centuries.
As its name implied, it was a martial tradition seeking transcendence through sound—a path to the divine.
“I don’t deny that,” Eumhu said flatly. “But I will not accept anyone as my disciple unless I believe they are destined to walk the path of the enlightened.”
Jegal Seon lifted his head in alarm.
“Seolha is a child of our Jegal Clan!”
The Jegal Clan—one of the Five Great Clans that stood at the summit of the martial world. A righteous sect flying the banner of virtue.
But Eumhu simply shook her head.
“Walking the righteous path does not guarantee one is good. Especially not those from powerful clans.”
“…”
A direct strike to the heart.
Yes—both Jegal Seon and Jegal Seolha might be good people.
But the Jegal Clan itself—pursuing power, influence, and worldly gain—could never be entirely pure.
“Lady Eumhu…”
As one would expect of the Jegal Clan’s heir, Jegal Seon quickly realized he could not persuade her through logic.
So, instead, he made a drastic offer—skipping steps, collapsing all distance.
His fist clenched. His voice trembled.
“I will sever all ties with Seolha… So please, I beg you…”
“Father! No! Don’t say that—I don’t want that!”
A horrified Jegal Seolha clung to him, but Jegal Seon, his face now hardened with resolve, gently pushed her away.
Then, for a second time, he bowed deeply.
“Please… take Seolha as your disciple.”
“…Haaa…”
Eumhu simply sighed, unmoved by the father and daughter’s pleas. There was no sign she intended to accept.
A long, heavy silence settled inside the inn.
And then, Yang-hwi knew—it was his moment to step forward.
“Then… how about this instead?”
Eumhu and the father-daughter pair turned their heads toward him at once.
---The End Of The Chapter---
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