Meanwhile, Jun-ho had already returned to his residence in Bukchon.
Inside his private chamber, he adjusted the final details of his official robes before departing for the Sandaenori.
Elsewhere within the residence, Counselor Yi sat quietly in a guest room.
The elderly statesman appeared calm.
But his thoughts churned relentlessly.
Decades of service had taught him how corruption truly worked.
How ambitious men accumulated secrets.
How reputations were destroyed.
How loyalties were bought.
How kingdoms fell.
The plan he and Jun-ho had created was already in motion.
Danger was inevitable.
Failure meant execution.
Yet one fact gave him confidence.
Kang-dae.
As long as the Bujang stood with them, few men in Joseon could stop what was coming.
Father and son met in the main courtyard moments before departing.
Then a trusted soldier came running toward them.
Breathless.
Urgent.
"My lord," he said after bowing. "It happened exactly as you predicted."
Jun-ho frowned immediately.
"Father… what happened?"
The old counselor ignored the question.
Instead, he fixed the soldier with a stern look.
"Where are the others?"
"They are in position, my lord. Waiting for your orders."
Only then did Counselor Yi turn toward his son.
There was no fear in his eyes.
Only certainty.
The certainty of a man whose suspicions had just been confirmed.
"Come."
His voice was calm.
"I'll explain on the way."
The soldier stepped aside immediately.
And without wasting another second, the two nobles headed toward the palanquin waiting at the entrance.
Toward the palace.
Toward the Sandaenori.
Toward the trap that had finally begun to close.
Kang-dae and his soldier brought their horses to a sudden halt, blocking the road directly in front of the wagon.
The impact of iron-shod hooves against the earth sent a cloud of dust billowing into the air.
Through the narrow slits of his mask, Kang-dae's eyes locked instantly onto the man with the blue scarf.
"Hey, you!"
His voice thundered through the forest.
"What do you think you're doing?"
The blue-scarfed assassin tightened his grip on the reins.
A chill crawled down his spine.
There was something about that voice.
Something disturbingly familiar.
Where have I heard it before?
Suppressing his unease, he raised his chin arrogantly.
"Move aside," he barked. "We have direct orders to deliver this cargo. Do not interfere in affairs of the court."
Kang-dae answered by stepping off his horse.
Graceful.
Silent.
Deadly.
His boots sank into the mud as he advanced.
"You are not taking that wagon anywhere."
The words fell like a sentence of death.
"I should have known Min would resort to something this pathetic."
A cold laugh escaped him.
Sharp enough to freeze the blood of every man present.
"Neither of you leaves this road alive."
His hand settled upon the hilt of his sword.
"I will take that cargo."
His eyes hardened.
"No matter the cost."
Steel flashed.
In one flawless motion, Kang-dae drew his blade.
The dying sunlight reflected across the polished edge.
Pure killing intent radiated from him.
Nearby, the assassin's companion desperately searched the surrounding forest for an escape route.
Then—
Branches cracked.
Once.
Twice.
Then dozens more.
Footsteps.
Many of them.
Fast.
Closing in.
Within seconds, armed men poured from the forest.
Black-clad figures.
Faces concealed.
Weapons drawn.
The entire road erupted into confusion.
The blue-scarfed assassin froze.
Kang-dae's soldier tensed.
Neither side recognized the newcomers.
Neither side understood why they were there.
Then a rider burst through the undergrowth.
His horse thundered across the clearing.
The leader of the black-clad warriors fixed his gaze on Kang-dae.
Without speaking a word, he raised a hand.
A military signal.
Simple.
Precise.
Immediate.
The black-clad warriors understood at once.
They charged.
Straight toward the wagon.
"Protect the horses!" the assassin shouted.
Drawing his sword, he leapt from the wagon and rushed to intercept them.
At the same moment, Kang-dae seized the opportunity.
He sprinted toward the rear of the wagon, intending to tear away the bundles and rescue whoever was hidden inside.
But the blue-scarfed soldier reached him first.
A vicious strike aimed directly at his throat.
Steel collided.
A deafening clang echoed through the forest.
Sparks exploded into the air.
The two warriors locked blades.
Strength against strength.
Skill against skill.
Two killers measuring each other in a duel where only one would survive.
While the duel raged, the black-clad warriors executed their maneuver with flawless precision.
Kang-dae's soldiers fought their way to the wagon alongside their mysterious commander.
Together, they ripped aside the bundles of cloth.
And there—
Hidden beneath layers of laundry—
Lay the King.
Unconscious.
Frail.
Barely alive.
Without hesitation, the black-clad leader lifted the monarch into his arms.
Moments later, he mounted his horse and secured the King's body before him.
Then he turned.
And fled.
His horse exploded into motion.
Kang-dae's soldier quickly mounted as well.
Before riding after them, he shouted at the top of his lungs:
"We have him!"
The words were all Kang-dae needed.
He poured every ounce of strength into one final attack.
His sword crashed against the assassin's weapon with overwhelming force.
The blue-scarfed soldier lost his footing.
The ground vanished beneath him.
He slammed into the mud.
Hard.
Before he could recover, the tip of Kang-dae's sword hovered inches from his throat.
Death itself stared him in the face.
"This isn't over," Kang-dae hissed.
His voice was low.
Terrifyingly calm.
"I will come back for you."
The assassin glared upward.
Breathing heavily.
Something about that voice clawed at his memory.
An echo from a past he had believed buried forever.
Kang-dae stepped back.
Unhurried.
Victorious.
Certain.
He mounted his horse once more.
Then, before leaving, he guided the animal slowly behind the fallen assassin.
With deliberate calm, he removed his mask.
And dropped it into the mud beside him.
The assassin's eyes widened.
His blood turned cold.
Impossible.
It couldn't be.
Kang-dae looked down at him.
The setting sun illuminated his face.
The face of a dead man.
The face of a ghost.
"Tell Min," Kang-dae said.
His voice carried the chill of a grave.
"That I have returned from the underworld."
A pause.
Then his eyes burned with vengeance.
"And tell him I came back for him."
The horse reared.
Kang-dae drove his heels into its flanks.
And moments later, he vanished into the forest.
Leaving behind only dust.
Silence.
And a terrified man staring at the face of the warrior he had once sworn he killed.