Chapter 861

Jeong Hogun hadn’t been lying when he said they would reach the imperial capital that day.

The procession passed through Nanjing, the capital of Jiangsu Province and the former imperial capital, and finally arrived in Suzhou. At the border with Zhejiang Province, they encountered a force of soldiers.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Thousand Captain.”

Eyes gleamed beneath helmets and suits of iron armor that covered every inch of their bodies.

Each man radiated a heavy aura. There were nearly a thousand of them, and on the golden banners fluttering in the wind, the dragon that symbolized the imperial family writhed as if alive.

The Embroidered Uniform Guard.

These loyal hounds, who answered to only one person in the world—the Son of Heaven—saluted their superior, Jeong Hogun, then faced the young prince who carried the noble blood of the imperial family.

“His Highness Prince Shangshan is here. Pay your respects.”

“Long live the prince! Long live the prince! Long, long live the prince!”

Watching the Embroidered Uniform Guard shout in unison without even dismounting, Hong Jin found himself wondering:

How many of them truly meant it?

No—was there even one?

Hong Jin already knew the answer. He swallowed a bitter smile.

They and I are nothing more than beasts. What matters is the will of the master who raises those beasts.

The Son of Heaven stood above all others. He could decide who lived and who died.

Nothing could stand in the way of his will.

Not even the blade that had narrowly missed the young prince amid that terrible purge more than a decade ago.

Nor this carriage, now heading toward the Son of Heaven’s returning blade.

“Pick up the pace. The imperial capital is just ahead.”

As the sun began to sink, the carriage raced like the wind.

Jeong Hogun and the Embroidered Uniform Guard under his command had hidden their identities in worn martial clothes for thousands of li.¹ Now they wore dazzling brocade and armor befitting their name, advancing like a wave beneath imperial banners held high.

Like victors returning with an enemy general in chains.

“Make way!”

Nothing could stand in the way of a thousand members of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

The commoners prostrated themselves, fear and awe mingling in their eyes, as the procession with the young prince at its head passed through the gates flung wide before them.

In just half a day, they traveled along roads and waterways cleared for them alone. At last, Hong Jin saw it.

The massive wall he’d thought he would never see again in his lifetime. The wall he had sworn never to return to, if only for the sake of the young prince he served.

The imperial capital…!

Hong Jin forced down the sigh that nearly escaped him.

He could see what lay out of sight. He could hear what no longer made a sound.

The dragon’s lair crouched behind those towering walls. The countless screams that had echoed endlessly around a single throne.

They were horrific fragments of the past, lodged deep in Hong Jin’s mind—and the history that had made one man the ruler of the continent.

“I’ll spare you. Just this once.”

At the sudden memory of someone’s cold voice ringing in his ears, Hong Jin clenched his teeth without realizing it.

It won’t go as Your Majesty wishes. Not this time.

The sunset spreading from the distant west stained the walls of the imperial capital.

Hangzhou made a fine first impression.

It had an abundance of goods carried by canal throughout Zhejiang Province, and its scenery was beautiful.

The broad plains we’d passed on the way were covered in all kinds of grain, rippling like golden waves. Smiles never left the people’s faces.

They say it’s the most beautiful city under heaven.

I’d heard that once in passing. It was absolutely true.

Maybe that was why they’d abandoned a great city with Nanjing’s long history and moved the capital to Hangzhou.

There was just one problem: this beautiful city felt a lot more ominous than I’d expected.

Clank. Clank.

The cold scrape of blades.

Whichever way I turned, I saw soldiers. Not the half-trained grunts I was used to, either—these were fully armed elite troops.

Even the easygoing Hyuk Mujin had lost his smile.

“Captain. This is a bit… much, isn’t it?”

Normally, I’d have shot back at him out of habit. This time, even I had to agree.

Why are there so many?

There weren’t just a lot of them. There were a downright disgusting number.

I was starting to wonder if Zhejiang Province’s specialty wasn’t Longjing tea but Imperial Guards.

“Is security always this tight?”

Hyuk Mujin wasn’t the only one who’d lost his smile after we entered Hangzhou.

Hong Jin answered in a voice so stiff it hardly sounded like him.

“As the imperial capital, it’s always well guarded. But it’s never been like this before.”

“Then…”

“They must have received some sort of order. And it’s probably… connected to us somehow.”

Hong Jin licked his red-painted lips and murmured,

“I’d expected something, but this is more of a welcome than I bargained for.”

For a moment, I pictured a hundred thousand soldiers pointing their spears and blades at us. Then I shook my head.

That’s unlikely.

If they’d wanted to kill Prince Shangshan Zhu Bao that easily, he wouldn’t have made it out of Shanxi Province.

I didn’t know exactly why the Son of Heaven had sent the Embroidered Uniform Guard to bring his younger brother here. But one thing was certain: whatever he did with Prince Shangshan, it would be something he could publicly justify.

That was the nature of an emperor.

Besides, his public image is already bad.

There was a reason people said the people’s will was the will of Heaven.

The nomadic people of the steppe, who had ruled the continent before the Great Nation, had fallen as the people’s support crumbled.

The emperor ruled the people, but without the people, there could be no emperor.

And the public’s view of the current Son of Heaven was far from favorable.

A capable but ruthless emperor.

I’d heard that description now and then in Murim. Quiet conversations with Hong Jin on the way here had filled in the details.

From a young age, the current emperor had built an impressive military record putting down rebellions and uprisings by foreign peoples. He was also praised for governing every region placed under his charge without the slightest lapse.

Hong Jin said that if he’d been born the late Emperor’s eldest son—or if his eldest brother, the Crown Prince, had been even a little less capable—he would naturally have inherited the throne.

But things hadn’t worked out that way.

Before becoming emperor, he’d been nowhere near the line of succession.

He had three older brothers. The eldest had naturally become Crown Prince under the principle of primogeniture, and he was every bit as outstanding as his younger brother—perhaps even more so, depending on whom you asked.

He treated people with benevolence and integrity regardless of their status, and had shown every quality needed to lead the Great Nation.

Hong Jin had described the Crown Prince of that time as:

A Son of Heaven prepared for the throne.

The long wars had ended long ago.

The seeds of rebellion scattered across the land had been uprooted, as had the foreign peoples who had constantly eyed the Great Nation.

The Great Nation had been established on firm foundations. What it needed now wasn’t conquest, but stability. With his perfect orthodox lineage and all the qualities a ruler could need, the Crown Prince was a successor prepared in every respect.

Until the imperial family’s fourth son, already pushed far from the line of succession, drew his sword from the shadows.

Clip-clop.

The unusually clear sound of hooves snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked around.

Where are we?

The answer came quickly.

The carriage had stopped. Beyond the Embroidered Uniform Guard packed tightly around us stood enormous buildings unlike any I’d seen in Murim.

They were tall enough to remind me of modern skyscrapers, but decorated with an elegance and splendor no skyscraper could match. They could only mean one place.

The imperial palace.

The dragon’s lair, and the center that kept the enormous gears of the world turning.

I stared silently at the palace entrance. Even through the narrow gap in the window, the sight was overwhelming. Hong Jin leaned close and whispered, barely above a breath.

“Young Master Jin, I’ve held off asking until now, but… isn’t it time you told me?”

The moment he said it, I knew what he meant.

The others besides Hyuk Mujin and me.

Hong Jin wanted to know where our other helpers were—the ones who still hadn’t shown themselves. I already had my answer.

“Don’t worry. You’ll find out soon enough.”

It wasn’t the answer he’d hoped for. Hong Jin furrowed his brow slightly, but didn’t complain.

I’d traveled all this way without stopping to help them. If we couldn’t trust one another in a situation like this, the anxiety and danger would only grow.

And with that in mind, I had a question of my own.

“How do you know so much?”

It was something I’d been wondering for quite some time.

Prince Shangshan Zhu Bao might have been a prince in name only, but he was the only direct member of the imperial family to survive the horrific struggle over the throne—and a prince who ruled a fief.

I’d long suspected that Hong Jin, his trusted aide, couldn’t be an ordinary eunuch. But how much he knew—and how calmly he dealt with the Embroidered Uniform Guard, feared wherever they went—exceeded even my expectations.

I had to ask him directly, even if it meant doing it like this.

“Since I’ve risked my life, I deserve an answer to this question. Right now.”

Clunk.

Hong Jin stared at me in silence after that firm Sound Transmission. Then, without warning, he flung open the carriage door.

He looked toward a group descending the towering staircase that led from the imperial palace and spoke.

“Young Master Jin, I’ve told you why I decided to become a eunuch, haven’t I?”

I nodded.

Back when Hong Jin and I first met in Shanxi Province, he’d briefly told me about his past.

“I hated being poor, and I wanted to save my family. But I didn’t have many options. No—at the time, I only had one.”

Hong Jin continued slowly.

To get what you wanted, you had to sacrifice something else.

So the poor boy, unable to bear his hunger, became a eunuch and chose a new name for himself.

“Hong Jin. I wanted to go out into the great waters. To leave that stinking sewer behind for the wide, clear sea.”

It hadn’t taken long for that wish to come true.

The young eunuch had escaped poverty and developed ambitions he’d never had before. He also had the ability to fulfill them.

His unfailing thoroughness and cool judgment soon caught the eye of the late Emperor.

“One day, the late Emperor summoned me. He said there was a place where my abilities could be put to good use.”

Hong Jin’s voice was clear.

“Young Master Jin. Have you ever heard of the East Depot?²”

“…!”