“tant,” he thought.


    Hong Woosung, n leader of the Yeolpung, subtly shook his head as he observed the scene from a short distance away.


    Hong Yeonhwa, the sessor of the Guhwa family, was famed for her remarkable output of the Guhwa Fire—a feat unheard of in the family’s history. Her session as family head was practically guaranteed.


    She was, undoubtedly, a prominent figure.


    Every action she took was enough to be the subject of rumors.


    Of course, the media, cautious of the Guhwa family''s wrath, would tread carefully with what they published.


    By her side stood a young boy.


    To be precise, Hong Yeonhwa was holding a young boy close to her while greeting attendees as they approached.


    It was brazen.


    Seeing that, he couldn’t help but think so.


    No doubt, every guest in attendance at this regr banquet was thinking the same.


    Hong Yeonhwa, the sure future head of the family.


    And the young boy she held close as they walked through the banquet hall…


    Moreover, the boy’s identity—famous as the exceptionally admitted student, the young hero of Sifnaha.


    After his high-profile match against Baek Ahrin, the heir of Changhae, at the Shioram tournament, his fame had skyrocketed.


    Hong Yeonhwa walked around the hall, proudly holding this figure close to her.


    It was an unmistakable, overt signal.


    A warning to all that “This person is mine, and if you touch him, you’ll pay.”


    Others besides Hong Woosung had picked up on this signal.


    It would spread, making waves in many circles once the banquet concluded.


    That seemed to be the intent of both the future family head and the Head Overseer.


    With a shake of his head, Hong Woosung took a sip of his drink.


    <ul>


    <li>Whoosh!</li>


    </ul>


    ‘What?’


    That was his calm thought—right up until the boy’s hand ignited with Guhwa Fire.


    Hong Woosung’s jaw dropped. He wasn’t the only one; everyone around him stood agape.


    Guhwa Fire—it wasn’t an unusual sight. Both Hong Woosung and the other branch members could summon it.


    The problem was that this Guhwa Fire emanated from the boy, the special admit.


    Everyone understood the implications of what they were witnessing.


    Some sighed, others gasped in awe, while still others voiced their astonishment with a sharp intake of breath.


    <ul>


    <li>Fwoosh!</li>


    </ul>


    ‘What in the…?’


    That was the thought up until the ancestor’s Bonghwa Sword began to glow.


    The ancestor’s Bonghwa Sword was now primarily used for ceremonial purposes.


    Originally, it was a weapon meant for battle. In ancient times, Ancestor Hongyeon wielded it to ughter and incinerate hordes of monsters that descended upon the world.


    But today, with no one capable of wielding the ancestor’s Bonghwa Sword, it was relegated to ceremonial use.


    mes crackled as they burned.


    The fire from my right arm spiraled around the Bonghwa Sword, encasing its de as it slowly turned crimson.


    The process mirrored the Bonghwa Sword’s traditional induction rite. One would pour Guhwa Fire into it, dyeing it in their own hue.


    I narrowed my gaze.


    I focused my Observation Power on the Bonghwa Sword.


    The result was clear—the Bonghwa Sword hadn’t fully absorbed my essence.


    It had only heated briefly.


    In other words, it was as if it were cooked on the outside but remained raw within.


    While it had held my Guhwa Fire for a moment, it hadn’t truly absorbed it.


    I understood that, yet there was no need to go further.


    My purpose in wielding the Bonghwa Sword and demonstrating the Guhwa Fire was merely to prove my capability.


    Having done that, my role wasplete. The task of truly imbuing the sword with Guhwa Fire wasn’t mine.


    ‘I could probably do it…’


    But I wanted to.


    In my dazed state.


    My clouded judgment sensed that it could be done.


    The Bonghwa Sword of Ancestor Hongyeon had already absorbed the ancestor’s fire over the years, bing tailored to Hongyeon’s essence.


    It was a sword steeped in the essence of the ancestor’s Guhwa Fire.


    To wield it, one would need to possess a simr essence.


    ‘Homogenization.’


    Whoosh! The Guhwa Fire pulsed.


    ‘Guhwa Fire.’


    Homogenization was based on mimicry.


    To mimic, one needed the original’s data.


    I had ample knowledge of Hong Yeonhwa’s Guhwa Fire.


    I had gathered extensive data on Changhae’s heir, Baek Ahrin, and her techniques.


    I was proficient in replicating the White Night of my master, to an overwhelming degree.


    The more specific the mimicry, the harder it became to wield the unique traits of each Guhwa Fire.


    ‘I can do it…’


    It was possible.


    Mimicry required data.


    I had data. The Bonghwa Sword in my grasp was saturated with it.


    Perfect execution would be challenging, but I had no reason to shy away from the attempt. Each challenge like this would elevate my skills.


    Feeling the mes flickering in turbulent anticipation, I tightened my grip on the hilt.


    I extracted and analyzed the information remaining within the Bonghwa Sword.


    I reviewed the data and rearranged my mana ordingly.


    <ul>


    <li>Fwoosh!</li>


    </ul>


    The mes fluctuated. The previously surging mes briefly turned yellow, then back to red.


    Somewhere, someone gasped in astonishment.


    ‘It’s working.’


    The rity of that realization drove the fire to shift even more.


    Manifestation—I had the data, and while my mind might be foggy, my mana maniption remained intact.


    ‘It’s working.’


    <ul>


    <li>Crack.</li>


    </ul>


    My grip on the hilt tightened audibly.


    The intensity of the mes changed.


    The Guhwa Fire engulfed the de, seeping inward.


    This time, it wasn’t just a superficial tint.


    I reached deeper, prating within, imbuing it with color.


    <ul>


    <li>Vvvvmmm…!!</li>


    </ul>


    The sword vibrated with a powerful resonance.


    The tremor was so strong that it shook the surrounding area.


    The de turned a deep red, with some portions yellow, and others tinged in orange.


    The de was now saturated with Guhwa Fire.


    This time, it was different.


    As I sensed this instinctively, a strange sense of fulfillment welled up within me.


    The spectators, who had gaped at my Guhwa Fire, now stared, mouths agape, in even greater astonishment.


    “Huh.”


    Just as I was savoring the satisfaction, a faint gasp echoed from somewhere.


    The sound came from none other than the Head Overseer, Choi Jiyeon, who had been watching from nearby.


    Her mouth opened, then closed.


    “What… was that?”


    With a barelyprehensible mutter, a cold sweat trickled down her neck.


    Amidst the ensuing uproar, Hong Yeonhwa seized me and whisked me out of the banquet hall


    The Yeonhwa Pavilion, nominally a banquet hall, was equipped with both indoor facilities and well-maintained paths outside for leisurely walks.


    Leaving the chaotic banquet hall behind, Hong Yeonhwa led the staggering Lee Hayul outside.


    By then, the sun had long disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving the ground bathed in faint moonlight.


    The night air was refreshingly cool.


    Hong Yeonhwa threw her outer garment over her shoulder, exhaling a deep sigh.


    Her breath condensed in the crisp air. The breeze cooled her heated body.


    ‘What…’


    Inside and out, Hong Yeonhwa was filled with questions.


    She, too, had been stunned when she saw the Bonghwa Sword dyed in color.


    Butcking an immediate answer, she’d followed her mother’s advice and brought Lee Hayul outside.


    She exhaled deeply and looked down.


    Nestled against her, Lee Hayul was snuggling closer.


    The artifact around his neck let out a small creak.


    [Wind?] [Eeee…] [Warmth] [I drew the Bonghwa Sword] [Guhwa Fire] [Proof of Protection] [I’m sorry…]


    The stream of words spilled forth, causing Hong Yeonhwa’s expression to shift.


    Unlike the usual filtered remarks, his words now flowed unrestrained.


    [Soft…] [Big chest…] [Like it…] [I’m sorry…]


    “Ahem…”


    It seemed the filter was malfunctioning.


    Hong Yeonhwa shook her flushed face and sat down on a nearby bench.


    With Lee Hayul nestled in her arms, he naturally settled onto herp.


    A pleasant weight pressed onto her thigh, and a satisfying warmth filled her embrace.


    A sweet scent hovered just beneath her nose.


    Clearing her throat, Hong Yeonhwa gently patted the boy resting in her arms.


    <ul>


    <li>Whoosh…</li>


    </ul>


    [Cold…] [Brrr…] [Chilly…] [Ice…]


    “Are you cold, Hayul?”


    In her arms, he whimpered about the cold, snuggling closer.


    Hong Yeonhwa adjusted his outer garment, wrapping him deeper in her embrace.


    The whimpering stopped.


    But before long, the ne began creaking again, spilling out unfiltered words once more.


    “...I suppose I’ll get no meaningful words from you tonight.”


    Gazing down at him with an odd expression, Hong Yeonhwa sighed softly.


    Lee Hayul got intoxicated easily.


    Technically, he didn’t just get intoxicated easily; he was susceptible to the mere scent of alcohol.


    Back when Baek Ahrin had said so, she’d thought it sounded absurd, but today had proven it true.


    Hong Yeonhwa had deliberately refrained from drinking, yet here Lee Hayul was, swaying drunkenly.


    On top of that, he’d used Guhwa Fire.


    Having experienced the emotional surge that apanied it, he was clearly not himself.


    Perhaps that’s why he’d poured Guhwa Fire into the Bonghwa Sword so freely.


    Under normal circumstances, he’d have anticipated the repercussions, but in his hazy state, he’d been oblivious.


    And even if she were to confess her feelings now, he wouldn’t respond with a clear mind.


    ‘I… really intended to tell him this time.’


    Since his visit to the main family… she had tried, again and again, but somehow never managed to say it.


    She’de up with excuses each time—he wasn’t in his room, the timing wasn’t right, he was focused, the atmosphere wasn’t quite right for a confession…


    She’d pushed it off until today.


    And today, the atmosphere was perfect for it. What better time than during the banquet?


    But here he was, barely lucid…


    “Hayul…”


    Lost in thought, she idly stroked his soft hair, then muttered with a peculiar expression.


    “Do you like me?”


    The ne creaked.


    [I like you.] [Like you.] [Warm.] [Like you a lot.] [Thank you.]


    “Pft. Cute…”


    [Eeee…] [Like you.] [More pets, please.]


    Suppressing a smile, she gently squeezed his cheek.


    The ne continued to echo his unfiltered affection, bringing her a sense of relief.


    She’d been relieved even in the banquet hall.


    She knew Hayul didn’t like being around too many people.


    Pulling him into her embrace in such a public setting had been an uncertain move.


    If he’d pulled away in embarrassment, she would have understood intellectually, but her heart would have ached.


    But he hadn’t.


    Even if he was embarrassed, he hadn’t resisted her touch. He had simply nestled quietly in her arms.


    That had reassured her.


    And given her a peculiar sense of confidence.


    ‘I’ll tell him when he’s sober.’


    Her sense of urgency had waned.


    That inner impulse had grown deeper, more insistent.


    But by restraining that urge, she knew the sweetness of anticipation would grow.


    [I’m sorry…]


    Hong Yeonhwa chose to hold back.


    [I’m sorry for being so useless…]


    “What do you mean, useless?”@@novelbin@@


    What had he been feeling guilty about all this time? What had he done to see himself as inadequate?


    With a soft smile, Hong Yeonhwaforted him.


    Perhaps he was too kind-hearted, feeling guilty for the wrong reasons…


    [Seoryul…]


    <ul>


    <li>Pause.</li>


    </ul>


    The hand patting his back froze.


    Her eyes blinked.


    Seoryul.


    Seoryul…


    Seoryul?


    It was a name spoken by Lee Hayul, whispered by the ne.


    ‘Shin Seoryul?’


    After Baek Ahrin… another familiar name.


    <ul>


    <li>Gasp!</li>


    </ul>


    Her grip tightened instinctively.


    Lee Hayul flinched, a soft, incoherent sound escaping him.


    “Hey.”


    Hong Yeonhwa remained unfazed.


    “Who’s Seoryul?”


    Her previously glistening red eyes clouded.


    Her gaze, shadowed with darkness, fell upon the boy nestled in her arms.