Ryang's long limbs, tangled with his robes, lay sprawled on the deck of the Black Wings. Hwan stood still, looking down at Ryang, who was unconscious.

  He asked his subordinates, "Was there anything noteworthy among his belongings?"

  The subordinate bowed his head silently and offered two silk-wrapped letters. A faint smile spread across Hwan's face as he broke the seals and read the contents. When Hwan remained silent for a long while, one of his subordinates asked,

  "Where should we put him?"

  "Tie him up and throw him in the bilge."

  The man, who had been with Hwan since they left Wicheong Palace and knew Ryang, hesitated. He asked with a troubled expression, "Doesn't water leak in there?"

  Hwan glared at him. "Are you suggesting we treat him with utmost courtesy?"

  "I apologize." The subordinate hurriedly bowed. Hwan withdrew his chilling gaze and, glancing at Ryang's blood-soaked shoulder, instructed,

  "Tend to his wounds properly. He can't die too soon."

  The subordinates, following his orders, lifted and carried Ryang away. Hwan leaned against the railing, exhaling calmly. The horizon was peaceful.

  Soon, Hwan descended into the Black Wings' bilge, carrying a single lantern. Seawater had seeped in and pooled, emitting a salty, fishy stench and splashing with each step. Ryang was slumped against the bulkhead, his hands and feet bound with chains. Hwan approached, knelt on one knee, and studied Ryang's face. A strange churning twisted his gut whenever he saw Ryang or Seon. Hwan had often been told he resembled the Myeonghyeon siblings more than his own twin, Seong. Unlike Seon, a perfect mirror of their aunt, also Hwan’s mother, Myeonghyeon Jin, Ryang's face held the upright features inherited from Myeonghyeon Seung. But whenever he saw his own face subtly reflected in that righteousness, a murderous intent, akin to self-harm, welled up within Hwan—a desire to plunge a blade deep into Ryang's collarbone.

  Hwan's gaze settled on Ryang's tightly closed lips, a neat, unwavering line. Ryang's words, even from childhood, had been both elegant and refined. But to Hwan, Ryang's refinement was a mask, a weapon used to isolate him. Ryang had always kept Hwan on the defensive within Wicheong Palace, despite his own cunning and swift swordsmanship. He was the one who sometimes even made their father and brother turn away with disappointed looks. Was Ryang also the reason Myeonghyeon Seung had given up on me? If I had taken Ryang's life long ago, before anyone knew, could I have claimed an equal share of everything Seong had monopolized? No—should I have taken Ryang instead of Seong from the start? He couldn't fathom the origin of the hatred Ryang had harbored towards him long before Myeonghyeon Seung's death. Hwan picked up Ryang's right hand, swollen from its soaking in salt water. He felt the faint calluses of an archer on his long, slender fingers.

  Hwan dragged a nearby wooden box and sat facing Ryang. As he continued to observe him, Ryang's eyes fluttered open. Hwan offered a casual greeting.

  "Long time no see."

  Ryang, his eyelids heavy with effort, barely opened his eyes, but as soon as he recognized the figure before him, his eyes flew open. The enemy who had spilled his father's blood on the floor. His body trembled with rage. For the past four years, Ryang had never allowed himself to crumble, shouldering the burden of Wicheong Palace inherited from his father, facing the broken-hearted Seong, and with his young sister Seon by his side. Yet, not a single day had passed without Hwan's face flashing through his mind. Some days, he was consumed by the image of Hwan's face and voice, his father's neck with its flesh torn open, Seon's screams ringing in his ears, and all the atrocities Hwan had committed that had foreshadowed such a tragedy. He was tormented by the guilt of not preventing his father's death, even though he had foreseen it. Hwan's calm smile provoked Ryang, and Ryang's anger froze into icy resolve.

  To Ryang, who only glared at him with burning eyes but didn't reply, Hwan sneered, "Seeing my face, do you think this is the afterlife? Don't worry, it's not. You're alive, and so am I."

  The dull blade of the sword that the Emissaries had brought from the coast flashed in Ryang's mind.

  "It must have been you," Ryang accused, "the murderer who killed the Emissaries. And the one who informed the Princess about us."

  Although he was trying to maintain his composure, Ryang's eyes were already bloodshot with rage. With a hint of mockery, Hwan leaned closer to Ryang, who was gasping for breath as he tried to control his anger. Looking into Ryang's face, he said,

  "You've had a lot on your mind lately, but you seem to look better. You must have been doing well."

  "You're alive and well, I see."

  "You didn't think I was dead, did you?"

  "I didn't wish for that either. Even if you die, you should die after paying for your sins."

  Hwan's shoulders shook with silent laughter. After calming his laughter, he said, "Leaving aside what sins I have committed, who can make me pay for them? The feeble Seong? Or you, who can't even protect yourself? Or the Guardian of the Crimson Star?"

  Ryang raised his voice. "What's your relationship with that woman? What are you planning with the Guardian?"

  "Watch your tongue. How dare you, a mere Celestial Scion, refer to the Guardian of the Crimson Star as 'that woman'? Do you still expect Sahngjon's light to shine upon House Myeonghyeon after uttering such blasphemous words?"

  "The moment she helped you, that woman became neither the Guardian Crimson nor anything else. If Sahngjon chose you, then Sahngjon is not my lord either."

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Hwan scoffed. "Your lord has never been Sahngjon. Someone like you, who can't stand before the Azure Scripture with a clear conscience, being the High Councilor of Wicheong Palace..."

  "Better than someone like you, filled with fanaticism."

  "Fanaticism? The star fell before my eyes. I pulled the Guardian Crimson from the sea. Why did Sahngjon send her to me first? There's only one answer. Father, brother, and uncle were all wrong. Hatred truly clouds one's judgment. Why can't you admit it? Why do you dislike me so much?"

  "Did you... just ask why?"

  Ryang clenched his jaw, his throat tightening with emotion. His breathing, which he had managed to control, quickened again as his pulse raced.

  Hwan, seeing Ryang's agitation, said, "Such petty grudges are meaningless before Sahngjon's great cause. If you understand Sahngjon's will and pledge your loyalty to me now, you might be able to return to Seon and Dara alive."

  Ryang faltered. A sudden surge of pain shot through his injured shoulder, making him flinch. He managed to lift his gaze to meet Hwan's.

  "Where's Dara?" he asked.

  Hwan froze in surprise for a moment, then his shoulders started to shake. He laughed silently for a while, then straightened his hunched posture and crossed his arms.

  "Love makes even my clever Ryang a fool. Still can't grasp the situation? How do you think you ended up here?"

  Ryang's pupils dilated, turning pitch black. He recalled the last face he saw before losing consciousness. He couldn't accept the betrayal of that face, a face that had always been etched in his mind. Hwan said,

  "If you can't believe it, take a good look at who's standing before you."

  Hwan moved closer to Ryang, his face close, as if to provoke him. Ryang couldn't tear his gaze away from Hwan's burning eyes, as if captivated by them. Hwan clicked his tongue, watching Ryang adrift between hatred and desperation.

  "Such a pathetic look. I almost pity you," he mocked.

  "Why is Dara..."

  "Indeed. She cooperated so readily that I'm curious about the reason myself."

  Hwan's words set Ryang's insides ablaze. The pain of betrayal spread through his body like wildfire. Dara's clear, round eyes, her long, slender neck and sun-kissed cheeks, the freckles scattered across them, the fresh scent of her skin when he buried his face in her neck - all of Dara came to mind with cruel vividness. Was that dazzling smile truly laced with poison? The questions continued to swell within him. Since when, and why? There were no answers to be found by dwelling on it alone, yet the questions lingered. Even though he knew further agitation would only earn him ridicule from Hwan, Ryang couldn't bear the grief. Hwan continued his taunts.

  "Shall I step aside for a moment so you can cry your heart out?"

  Ryang couldn't answer for a long time, his eyes squeezed shut. He barely managed to keep his stinging eyelids open, unable to bear further humiliation in front of Hwan. Slowly opening his eyes, Ryang moved his gaze over Hwan's attire. He offered a resolute sneer.

  "After committing such an act and running away, is piracy all you've managed to achieve?"

  "The noble House Myeonghyeon runs a merchant house and a brothel, so why can't a royal descendant be a pirate?"

  "No, you've found your rightful place. This is where you've always belonged."

  Hwan's sneer hardened. Ryang asked, "Why did you kill the Emissaries?"

  Hwan didn't answer. Ryang continued without waiting for a reply, "You must have enjoyed dancing with your sword over the Emissaries' bodies. Wielding your sword without reason or morality, that madness is your true nature. I know why you do these despicable things. But you won't be recognized no matter what you do. Even if you kill me, kill Seong, kill everyone, you won't get what you want. No one has ever seen the qualities of a king in you. Not me, not Father, not the late Guardian, and not even Seong, who cherishes you the most. No matter what you do, Wicheong will not serve you. The people already answered the tantrums of an unqualified king half a century ago."

  A tense silence hung in the air for a few breaths. Hwan finally replied, "You're right, killing does offer amusement. But not everyone can enjoy that amusement. If you enjoyed wielding a sword, you wouldn't have given it up so early."

  Ryang scoffed at Hwan's mockery. "Even a monkey in a circus troupe enjoys performing tricks. That's your level. Your amusement lacks the dignity and qualification of a royal descendant. Every time I see you, I realize that Sahngjon is not perfect. Sharing the same blood with Seong as you was clearly Sahngjon's mistake. You should never have been born."

  The faint smile on Hwan's face instantly turned murderous. "It seems you don't want to live longer."

  "You're going to kill me anyway."

  "Not necessarily. You might end up begging me to kill you instead."

  Hwan raised his right hand and traced Ryang's jawline. "There's something you're overlooking. From the beginning of time until now, the one who has killed the most is Sahngjon. It's written in the Azure Scripture, isn't it? Sahngjon is the sole good in the world. So, what about Sahngjon? Is killing also amusement for him?"

  "You are not Sahngjon. Murder is forbidden, a commandment given to both the Celestial Scions and the Latecomers."

  "Sahngjon will soon give me a new world, so I can simply create new commandments."

  Hwan's fingers, gliding over Ryang's skin, lifted his chin. "Murder is not forbidden. Murder is a choice."

  Ryang sneered. "You're still good with playing words, as always."

  "Playing words? Everyone has to make choices. Even the hands of your beloved Seong will be covered in blood soon."

  "That will never happen."

  "No, it will definitely happen. And someday, he'll say to someone, 'It was an unavoidable choice.'"

  Hwan drew a dagger from his belt and placed its blade against Ryang's chin. "Perhaps your blood will be Seong's second choice."

  He slowly moved the blade along Ryang's sharp jawline, drawing a red line and beads of blood welled up. The vivid color stood out against his pale skin. Ryang froze, calmly controlling his breathing. Hwan smiled in satisfaction.

  "Even the honorable Myeonghyeon Ryang feels fear in moments like this. You've always been ignorant. The noble young master, trapped in his gilded cage, never grasped a single truth about life. And yet, your arrogant ignorance, unaware of your own blindness, was truly laughable. You don't have much time left, but cherish this fear. This piercing fear is the light of Sahngjon, allowing you to truly feel alive in every moment."

  Ryang ignored Hwan's lengthy speech and instead picked on a word that bothered him. "What do you mean by 'second choice'?"

  "You seem to have harbored deep resentment towards me because of your father. Since we might not have another chance to have a sincere conversation, let's clear up the misunderstanding now."

  Hwan leaned in closer. "Listen carefully, Ryang. I didn't kill my uncle."

  Ryang stopped breathing. Hwan declared, "It was Seong."

  "...What?"

  Hwan brought his face close to Ryang's and said clearly, "The one who slit your father's throat with a sword was Seong."