I Became the Owner of the Heavenly Flower Palace-Chapter 21: For Whose Benefit?

Jincheon clenched his jaw.

The more he thought about it, the more irritated he became.

“Just let it go? And who exactly would that benefit?”

He couldn’t allow these people to die.

He couldn’t let things unfold according to this place’s laws or customs.

That was exactly what the traitor—or whoever was behind this—wanted.

“No way I’m letting that happen.”

To be honest, saving them wouldn’t be of any great benefit to Jincheon.

In fact, it might be safer and easier for him to just stay quiet and let things take their course.

But if doing so meant the villain got away with everything?

Crunch.

“I couldn’t live with that.”

If you really thought about it, all of this suffering—every single one of these headaches—was because of that backstabbing traitor. Or the assassin. Or the puppeteer pulling the strings from behind.

Whoever it was—man or woman—it didn’t matter. If Jincheon could land a solid blow on that bastard, it would be worth it.

And besides, just like he’d thought yesterday: once someone’s dead, there’s no going back.

You couldn’t un-kill the dead.

Fshk.

Jincheon looked down at the man.

Dongpung’s massive frame was trembling, jaw clenched tight.

Just imagining something so blasphemous, so morally revolting—it was enough to make his whole body shake.

“Choose.”

There was no need to persuade him anymore.

Jincheon spoke firmly.

“Will you die with your pride, or live covered in disgrace—and become the shield that guards me and the Heavenly Flame Palace?”

Flicker.

In that instant, a spark ignited in the man’s eyes.

It was almost madness—so intense that even Jincheon flinched a little.

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

That sheer force of presence made Jincheon’s heart skip a beat.

“...Shit. Did I just screw this up?”

Maybe he’d pushed the guy’s pride too far.

Or maybe trying to persuade someone with far more experience than him with a few clever words had been arrogant from the start.

Whirl.

The seven maids immediately stepped forward, forming a wall between him and Dongpung.

But the pressure radiating from Dongpung didn’t stop.

“Dongpung!”

The black-haired maid at the front snapped.

“To unleash your energy in front of the Red Dragon is a grave crime of false loyalty!”

Whoosh.

The overwhelming force vanished.

That suffocating pressure—so intense just moments ago that he could barely breathe—disappeared like it had never been there.

Then came a sharp sound.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Dongpung slammed his forehead into the floor three times.

Hard enough that Jincheon worried the man might split his skull open.

Dongpung lifted his head.

“Dongpung Commander, Ak Mujin.”

His voice was ragged, as if coughing up blood.

And his forehead was indeed streaked with red.

“I will gladly bear disgrace and live—so I may become the shield of the Red Dragon!”

His eyes gleamed with manic joy.

He didn’t even seem to register the blood trickling down his face.

Jincheon, caught off guard, suddenly remembered the look in Po Eunryeong’s eyes the night before.

That moment when he asked, “What happens if I refuse?”—and she’d looked at him with a flicker of madness in her gaze.

This was different, but strangely similar in essence.

Thud.

Dongpung slammed his head to the floor again.

Finally, Jincheon managed to control his expression.

Ahem.

He cleared his throat quietly, letting out a subtle sigh of relief.

“...Well. At least he’s not dead.”

Neither of them was, thankfully.

At the very least, things were back on track.

That genuine relief showed on Jincheon’s face, and before he realized it, a small smile crept onto his lips.

“Thank you.”

Dongpung bowed again.

Thud.

“I am but a sinner. Please retract those unworthy words.”

He didn’t even raise his head.

Jincheon blinked, slightly caught off guard.

The man had just been granted his life.

Sure, he’d gone on about disgrace and honor, but in the end, he was still alive. He’d kept his name and his life. Shouldn’t he be relieved? Grateful?

“I didn’t expect a high-five or anything, but come on...”

He was too serious.

No—this went beyond seriousness. Jincheon started to feel like maybe he’d said something he shouldn’t have.

Like trying to avoid a wolf and running into a tiger instead.

“...Whatever.”

Thinking about it wouldn’t help now.

What was done was done. He’d achieved what he came here for, so it was time to move on.

Jincheon cleared his throat again and said,

“Please... take care of yourself.”

He meant that.

These people treated their lives far too lightly.

Thud.

Another loud slam made Jincheon snap.

“Stop bashing your head like that! You’re bleeding!”

The man flinched.

Blood was already pooling on the floor beneath him.

It looked like he’d been about to slam his head again but caught himself. In a low voice, he said:

“I shall obey your command.”

Jincheon let out a sigh in his mind.

“God, this is exhausting.”

And it wasn’t even noon yet.

Come to think of it, had he even eaten today?

Looking down at the man still bowed before him, Jincheon spoke softly.

“I’ll be going now.”

He turned around.

Step. Step.

The maids followed quietly, like shadows.

And until the moment Jincheon left the hall, Dongpung Commander Ak Mujin did not lift his head.

But the twisted gleam of joy and madness in his eyes—

Everyone except Jincheon could clearly see it.

****

The hall doors closed behind them.

Jincheon glanced back briefly.

“That’s one situation wrapped up... maybe?”

Just as he thought that—

“...I’m jealous.”

A small voice whispered from behind.

Jincheon instinctively turned around.

But all the maids had their heads bowed, silent and composed.

“What the...?”

Just as confusion began to creep in, the black-haired maid closest to him spoke.

“Where shall we go next?”

The answer was already decided.

“To the Oracle.”

He had no idea who this “Oracle” was.

But if what he’d heard was true—that she, alongside the Red Dragon, upheld the Heavenly Valley—then she was the only person who could answer the questions burning in his mind.

What exactly had happened here?

Why were these people treating him like he was some divine figure—calling him the Red Dragon?

Maybe she could even explain what this place really was.

“Not like I could do anything about it even if I knew.”

Maybe ignorance was bliss.

And honestly, he didn’t want to get more involved than he already was.

Still... he had to admit—he was curious.

“We will escort you,”

the black-haired maid answered quietly.

But she didn’t step forward.

So, as it had always been, Jincheon walked ahead first, with the maids following in silent formation behind him.

Step. Step.

Only the sound of Jincheon’s footsteps echoed through the wide corridor.

As he walked with the maids trailing behind, he suddenly asked,

“Come to think of it, I keep hearing people call you the Court’s Seven Attendants, but Dongpung referred to you as the Seven Luminaries.”

“That’s correct.”

“Seven Luminaries—as in Sunday, Monday, that kind of thing?”

“...Oh.”

Someone let out a soft gasp of admiration.

Jincheon stopped and turned his head, but he couldn’t tell which of the six maids had made the sound.

“Yes, you’re exactly right.”

The closest one—the black-haired maid who had been speaking with him until now—answered.

“Then who are you?”

It was a natural question.

But what followed was anything but natural—at least to Jincheon.

Rustle.

The black-haired maid placed a hand over her chest, then knelt on one knee and bowed her head.

And the other six followed in perfect unison, kneeling in the middle of the corridor without hesitation.

Jincheon was flustered.

He’d just asked who she was—and all seven suddenly knelt like soldiers in formation. In the middle of a hallway, no less.

But none of them seemed to find it strange.

“Sunday. My name is Nanyak.”

The black-haired maid bowed her head as she spoke.

The others followed, one by one.

“Monday, Hyowol.”

“Tuesday, Chobin.”

“Wednesday, Biyeon.”

“Thursday, Hongryeon.”

“Friday, Yeonhwa.”

“Saturday, Sohong.”

Flooded with their unexpected introductions, Jincheon looked down at the seven maids still bowing.

The first thing that caught his eye—once again—was their hair color.

He’d noticed it before, but it still struck him.

“...Could you raise your heads?”

Fshk.

The seven maids lifted their faces toward him.

And finally, Jincheon was able to properly observe them—closely.

Wow.

He couldn’t help the soft breath of admiration.

Their hair was just the start—their eyes, their skin, even the atmosphere around them—each one was completely different.

There were jet-black eyes, eyes clear and blue like glass; pale skin like snow, and others with rich, deep complexions.

Their hair was a vibrant spectrum—reddish-brown, golden, even silvery strands that shimmered like threads of light.

And then there was the one with deep blue hair—so dark it almost looked black, but when it caught the light just right, the blue shimmered faintly through.

That’s incredible.

Despite their striking differences, they all shared one thing in common.

They were stunningly beautiful.

...Did they pick them for their looks?

Not just them—everyone in this place, men and women alike, was suspiciously good-looking.

Maybe it was a regional thing. This area probably saw travelers and immigrants from the Western Continent or even distant Pasa.

Ahem.

Lost in thought, Jincheon cleared his throat.

Seven radiant women looking up at him with wide, glimmering eyes—that was a lot for one young man to handle.

“Y-you may rise.”

Rustle.

They rose immediately, and Jincheon quickly turned his body away.

“Let’s go.”

Step. Step.

He resumed walking.

“Palace Master.”

A soft voice called out.

Jincheon turned his head.

The black-haired maid—Sunday, Nanyak—gestured gently.

“This way, please.”

He had started down the wrong path in his haste.

“Oh, thank you.”

Nanyak bowed slightly, and Jincheon corrected his course.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone behind him was suppressing a laugh as he picked up the pace.

How long had they walked?

Eventually, Jincheon realized he was headed toward the main gate of the palace.

“Isn’t the Oracle inside the palace?”

“She is not,” Nanyak replied.

“The Oracle and the priestesses reside beyond the palace, at the Celestial Dragon Spring.”

“Dragon Spring?”

Usually, a dragon spring referred to a deep pool beneath a waterfall.

In a valley, those were pretty common.

But that wasn’t what she meant.

“Yes. It is a sacred place where water flows year-round. It belongs solely to the Red Dragon.”

In a region ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) this close to the great desert, a spring that never dried up would certainly be considered sacred.

Still, the part about it “belonging solely to the Red Dragon” didn’t impress him.

After all, wasn’t everything here supposed to belong to the Red Dragon?

The palace, the valley—even people’s lives.

Everything belongs to the Red Dragon, huh?

Jincheon brushed the thought aside.

Step. Step.

Just as he was about to cross the threshold leading out of the palace—

Huh?

Jincheon froze in place.

He suddenly met the gazes of countless people.

He blinked.

Was he imagining things?

But the scene before him didn’t change.

...What the hell is this?

People filled the entire space in front of the palace gate.

And not just a few.

The broad avenue stretching out to the horizon was packed with people—shoulder to shoulder, as far as the eye could see.

And yet, not a single word was spoken. Not a whisper, not even a breath of noise.

Only a heavy silence filled the air.

And within that silence—

All those eyes were fixed solely on Jincheon.