One night, a messenger delivered a note to Jun-ho from his father.
The message was brief, written in a manner only they—keepers of the greater design—could truly understand:
"Winter comes early, and the garden requires urgent pruning before the cold withers its root. Bring with you the forgotten tool you found in the north; it is time to see whether its steel still cuts the weeds choking the palace."
Jun-ho read it twice.
He understood.
"The root" was the King.
And the "forgotten tool"… was Kang-dae.
Without hesitation, he burned the paper over a candle flame until nothing remained but ash.
He immediately drafted a reply for Kang-dae.
Knowing Min's spies could intercept any message, he wrote only what was necessary:
"At the crossing where the stream divides the valley, at the third cry of the owl. Come alone. The board is set for the first move."
He sealed it with neutral wax and handed it to his fastest guard, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
The calm within the House of Han was coming to an end.
Days later, at midnight, the Daesagan mounted his horse and slipped into the darkness like a shadow. Not even his guards or eunuchs noticed his absence.
He rode to the meeting point.
There, Kang-dae was already waiting.
Together, they rode toward the old cabin—where the Yi family and the last loyal scholars of the crown held their secret gatherings.
Inside, Jun-ho paid his respects.
Beyond the cabin walls, the forest appeared quiet—but hidden guards watched every path, ready to protect their masters.
After a long discussion filled with the elders' lament over the kingdom's decay, Jun-ho stepped forward.
His voice cut through the room.
"I have brought someone who will become the key piece in what we are about to do."
A pause.
"You may enter."
The entrance curtains were thrown open.
The air froze.
Every man in the room fell silent.
It was not a ghost—though many believed him dead.
It was the most feared Bujang.
The man who had once commanded the palace forces under the General.
Kang-dae.
Alive.
His presence struck the elders like a blow—his gaze carrying the weight of the mountains… and the fire of vengeance.
Dressed in worn, dark garments that barely concealed the harshness of his new life, Kang-dae bowed deeply.
Silence thickened.
Some scholars lowered their heads in stunned respect.
Others stared openly, unable to reconcile this man with the legendary commander he once was.
Gone was the polished warrior of the palace halls.
Before them stood something else—
A man shaped by war, stripped to something raw and dangerous…
Yet burning with an insatiable need to settle old debts.
Counselor Yi finally broke the silence, his voice cold:
"Tell me… Bujang. Is there any spirit left within you?"
Murmurs rippled across the room.
Doubt.
Fear.
Judgment.
Kang-dae straightened.
His worn clothing creaked as he moved.
Then, he gripped his sword.
The force alone made those nearest to him pale.
His gaze swept across the room, challenging each man in turn.
"Is there anyone here," he said, his voice like steel striking stone, "who carries more resentment than I do?"
No one answered.
"This is not the kingdom I swore to protect before my father," he continued. "My oath was not only to this land—I swore to protect my King. But I never imagined the rot within the palace would run this deep."
Silence returned.
Absolute.
He stepped forward, letting the candlelight reveal the scar across his neck.
"Inside me burns the resentment of a man they tried to erase," he said. "I was betrayed by those I trusted most—and left for dead."
His voice lowered.
"But I am not here merely to prove my loyalty… to you or to the crown."
His eyes hardened.
"I am here to kill every man who dared try to destroy me."
Finally, he fixed his gaze on Counselor Yi.
"Yes, my lord," he said, with terrifying calm. "The warrior within me still lives."
A pause.
"But now… that spirit has become a blade."
"One that will cut out the rot suffocating this kingdom."
One truth became undeniable:
If word spread that the Bujang had returned—
Min would not hesitate.
He would destroy them all.
The tension thickened.
Jun-ho slammed the palace maps onto the table.
"These are the known routes," he said. "Every one of them is being watched. We have no room for error."
Kang-dae lifted his head slowly.
"There is another map."
The room fell silent.
"A map known to very few," he continued. "It reveals routes different from these… hidden paths."
The scholars exchanged uneasy glances.
"That's impossible…" one whispered.
Kang-dae's voice cut through them.
"Only three men know of it: Lord Min… the General… and me."
A murmur spread through the room.
"I have a copy."
Silence.
Complete.
Jun-ho stepped forward.
"Where is it?"
Kang-dae met his gaze.
"In a place where we stored what we seized from Min. A hidden cache known only to my most trusted soldier… and myself."
Counselor Yi stepped forward, urgency sharpening his tone.
"Then we need it."
His eyes darkened.
"Without that map… any attempt to escape will be a death sentence."
A brief pause.
"The King's breath… will not last much longer."
No one spoke.
Because they all understood the same truth.
Time…
Had run out.
Cliffhanger — The Price of the Map
Then—
A sound.
Soft.
Too soft.
But enough.
Kang-dae's eyes shifted instantly toward the door.
Jun-ho noticed it a second later.
The forest… had gone silent.
No wind.
No insects.
No guards.
Nothing.
Kang-dae spoke first.
"…We're not alone."
Before anyone could react—
An arrow pierced through the wooden wall.
Then another.
And another.
The cabin erupted into chaos.
"AMBUSH—!"
A body dropped outside.
Then another.
Jun-ho drew his sword, turning toward Kang-dae—
But the Bujang wasn't looking at the attackers.
He was staring at the shadows beyond the trees.
As if searching for someone.
Recognizing something.
And then—
Through the darkness…
A figure stepped forward.
Unhurried.
Unafraid.
Watching them.
Kang-dae's grip tightened.
His voice dropped to a whisper—
Not of fear.
But certainty.
"…Min."