Unlike the previous night, groans of pain could be heard seeping out of the hut. They were cries of anguish. Kang-oh, with his keen hearing, caught the sound of labored, shallow breathing but stayed silent, not wanting to let Woo know he was nearby. Just then, Woo staggered out of the hut, drank some water, and collapsed in front of the campfire.

Kang-oh had no reason to hold back anymore. He immediately rushed over to where Woo had fallen. Woo’s face was horribly twisted in pain, covered in flushed red patches. The burn on his arm, coupled with the wound on his back, and the entire day spent working had taken their toll. His weakened body was screaming for reprieve. The fever was high enough that Kang-oh worried Woo might die if it kept up.

Turning Woo onto his back, Kang-oh noticed that Woo’s palms had become severely damaged in just one day.

It was undoubtedly because of that axe. He had gripped it tightly and swung it down several times… It wasn’t strange at all for him to be feeling so ill. At this point, it was hard to see him as someone simply lacking in willpower. Pain easily breaks humans. Only those with a clear reason to endure beyond the pain are the ones who don’t crumble.

Having cooled Woo’s forehead first, Kang-oh swiftly rummaged through his belongings and pulled out a medicinal pill from a silk pouch. Ye Jin-rang often sent Kang-oh out, concerned that his frequent movements outside might lead him to get hurt, and always made sure to pack various medicines for him. This particular one was part of that assortment, designed to reduce fever and boost overall health. It was a precious remedy, brewed from countless medicinal herbs. Kang-oh didn’t even feel the slightest hesitation and immediately pushed the pill into Woo’s mouth.

However, it was unlikely that someone half-conscious could properly swallow the medicine. Woo, choking, coughed, and the expensive pill tumbled to the ground. Without a second thought, Kang-oh took out a second pill from the pouch, placed it in his own mouth, and then pressed his lips firmly onto Woo’s. The sole intention was to transfer the medicine.

Yet, the moment their lips touched, Kang-oh felt a strange sense of familiarity. Had he been in a situation like this before? The odd thing was that, having been obsessed with the sword his whole life, he had never kept anyone close—be it a woman or a man.

Even when the noble families of the Black Sky Clan had tried to push their children onto him, he had deliberately ignored them. He didn’t want to give the impression to the First Disciple, Mo Yong Yu-un, that he was trying to form a power base.

Woo’s body trembled. Pushing those thoughts aside, Kang-oh pressed his tongue deeper into Woo’s throat, making sure the medicine went down. Semi-conscious, Woo swallowed the pill—along with the water—gulping it down, although he seemed to struggle for air.

Slowly, Kang-oh pulled his lips away. Strangely, he felt a sense of disappointment. At this lowly, sickly body? Why on earth?

Standing up, Kang-oh frowned. Every time Woo met him, he would bow down deeply to the ground, never directly conveying his opinions. And there was always that frustrating attitude in everything he did…

He was a person whose personality did not align with what he ordinarily liked. That wasn’t to say he was captivated by the man’s appearance either. Woo’s face, faintly visible in the moonlight, was far from handsome or elegant. A large, grotesque scar marred his features, as though he had been burned. His body was frail as well.

One could imagine feeling some interest if Woo had had the skills of a martial artist, but that wasn’t the case. Could it be simple sympathy toward a servant? Kang-oh mocked himself. He was not a man overflowing with sentiment.

When what he first felt upon seeing Woo’s miserable state wasn’t the urge to heal him, but the thought that strict punishment should be dealt to the person who had dared exercise violence in broad daylight without regard for the Black Sky Clan’s iron rules, it made him question why he was lingering around Woo in the first place.

Despite being burdened with seemingly countless tasks back at the Black Sky Clan after a martial duel with a master from the South Sea, Kang-oh remained in this rugged mountain area. His gaze, which had cooled in quiet contemplation, once again landed on Woo’s face. Under the touch of moonlight, there lingered no allure or charm — only a pitiable spirit peacefully asleep after such an ordeal.

His eyes then fell upon Woo’s hands: blistered, torn, and with even splinters stuck in his palms. “This is madness… utterly insane.” Kang-oh muttered to himself, yet despite his words, he carried Woo into the nearby hut.

After clumsily covering the sleeping Woo with a blanket, he used his combat abilities to dart to a nearby village and returned with a new axe. The villagers would surely be puzzled by the missing axe, but since money had been left behind, they probably wouldn’t mind much.

In fact, it was such a poor axe that even a single silver coin would have been worth more. However, compared to Woo’s original tool, this one seemed far more suitable. Kang-oh pulled out the old axe from the tree stump and set the new one in its place. In the light of dawn, the sharp, blue-tinged blade satisfied him greatly.

It seemed there would be no more need to substitute a palm for a wooden hand. It pained Kang-oh to think that Woo had to endure such harsh conditions simply because they lacked a proper axe. While dozing off in the tree, Kang-oh optimistically assumed Woo would no longer hurt his hands. Yet, when Woo woke in the morning and discovered the axe, he simply glanced at it for a while before snapping branches with his bare hands to start a fire.

In disbelief, Kang-oh thought,‘Could it be? Is he really refusing to use the axe?‘ Then he convinced himself, ‘No, he’s just breaking branches for the fire; there’s no need for an axe for something so simple.‘

However, as the afternoon went by, his doubts turned into certainty. Woo was acting as if the axe didn’t exist, using his hands to deal with everything—picking up dry branches and breaking small limbs off the already felled trees… It was infuriating.

Unable to bear it any longer, Kang-oh revealed himself. Woo trembled like an aspen tree. He was still reluctant to use the axe. If this was the case, the only choice was to deal with the person who had ordered Woo to act this way, right? So, Kang-oh waited. And now, it seemed that wait would soon bear fruit. Up the mountain path, the Third Overseer of the Black Sky Clan was riding on horseback.

“Th-third Disciple!” The Third Overseer, who had entered the mountain where Woo was staying, hastily dismounted and bowed his head upon seeing Kang-oh’s appearance. Although curious as to why Kang-oh was here, his body instinctively bowed first before his mind could question it.

“It’s been a while,” Kang-oh spoke with a calm, indifferent expression. However, there was neither warmth nor surprise at the sudden encounter in his voice.

‘Has he been waiting for me…?’ Something felt off. The Third Overseer had lowered himself and acted courteously to Kang-oh numerous times, striving in many ways to cater to the Third Disciple’s conveniences. But this was the first time Kang-oh had acknowledged him so openly.

The Third Overseer, much like he would with Ye Jin-rang, the Black Sky Lord, always showed great respect to the favored third disciple. At times, he even pondered whether Ye Jin-rang’s favor leaned more toward Kang-oh than the First Disciple.

Black Sky Lord cherished Kang-oh to such an extent that anyone who had served under him for a long time could easily notice his affection. Ye Jin-rang, who never concealed his harsh and unforgiving nature even towards his first disciple, Mo Yong Yu-un, would unexpectedly turn into a patient and gentle master of martial arts only in the presence of his youngest disciple, Kang-oh.

Kang-oh, with a feral intuition, was quick to sense his master’s fondness. When his following began to grow to a size that could rival that of the eldest son, Kang-oh withdrew from the Black Sky Clan. This was likely to avoid giving any impression that he was consolidating power.

From the beginning, the Third Overseer kept a distance from anyone in Black Sky except for those in Honamdan, a group composed of individuals from lowly origins who had no interest in power struggles. By isolating himself with only the Honamdan, Kang-oh was making it clear that he had no interest in vying for the position of the next lord of the Black Sky.

What puzzled the Third Overseer was not just Kang-oh, who rejected the wealth and glory that could easily have been his, but also the fact that the Lord of Black Sky, who could have easily passed everything onto him, chose not to. If the lord had simply designated Kang-oh as his successor, Kang-oh would have no choice but to comply with his master’s will. Yet, Ye Jin-rang let his youngest disciple do as he pleased.

Ye Jin-rang never asked anything of Kang-oh. Affection, by its nature, usually demanded some kind of return—whether in equal emotion or substance. But Ye Jin-rang only gave to Kang-oh, as if he were his own son.

This left the martial artists within the Black Sky Clan in disarray. While the next lord of Black Sky was officially the eldest disciple, Mo Yong Yu-un, it was clear that Ye Jin-rang’s affection leaned heavily towards the third disciple, Kang-oh. Despite this, the Third Overseer’s loyalty never wavered. He had always remained steadfast from the beginning, betting everything on the one who lay closest to the lord’s heart: the third son.

“The Third Overseer, who oversees the internal affairs of the Black Sky Clan, has certainly come a long way,” Kang-oh muttered as he lightly moved his lips, grabbing the sword, Dan Sa, which had been resting at his side.

“Even this place is part of the Black Sky territory. I am here under the command of the Lord of Black Sky,” responded the Third Overseer.

The Third Overseer’s excessively polite demeanor as he bowed his head deeply was beyond respectful. The savage face that had once ruthlessly hunted down Woo, as if capturing a rat, was now perfectly composed, with no trace of harshness. Kang-oh looked down at the Third Overseer with an expressionless face.

“While hunting here, I came across a servant who serves my master.”

“…Excuse me? Y-yes, that man named Woo is here.”

Caught off guard by the unexpected question, the Third Overseer blinked in surprise, quickly raised his head, and then, bowing repeatedly, answered.

“And how exactly did he come to be here?”

“That…”

“Did you dare to handle my master’s affairs without permission?”

The voice, as cutting as frost, sent a shiver down the Third Overseer’s spine. It was a sharp and menacing aura. A martial artist of Kang-oh’s caliber didn’t need to intend to kill to convey a strong enough murderous intent to terrify his opponents.

Although the Third Overseer had survived in the Black Sky Clan for twice as long as Kang-oh, and had endured through much adversity, he wasn’t skilled enough to withstand the aura of a prodigy like Kang-oh—especially when Jin-rang had nurtured him with all kinds of elixirs. Thus, the Third Overseer could only cower.

“Th-that would never happen!”

“Then why was the person, who had been ordered to harvest the trees of this mountain, carrying a damaged axe?”

At those words—oh no!—the Third Overseer felt his back becoming drenched with sweat. After all, the order to harvest the mountain’s trees was just a pretense to get Woo to this location.

The idea to give Woo such a broken axe was the Third Overseer’s own little trick. If the hands of that man Woo, who had somehow managed to cross the Black Sky Clan’s leader, were torn apart by the shattered axe, it would be quite satisfying.

Furthermore, if the blade either flew backward from its loose handle or fell downward to cut through his foot, it would simply be labeled a “freak accident.”

“That, well…”

“There’s no way funding for any tasks assigned by the Black Sky Clan has been misallocated, and if that’s the case, are you suggesting you’ve embezzled it?”

As Kang-oh pointedly pressed for an answer, the Third Overseer began sweating profusely.