The Return of the Namgoong Clan's Granddaughter-Chapter 12

“Again.”

“Hup!”

He swung his sword even faster than before.

Shhh, shhiiik—the blade sliced through the air.

But Ilhwa’s sword deflected the strike again without difficulty.

Several more exchanges followed.

Then, in an instant, Ilhwa’s blade slipped through a gap in his technique and struck the Red Dragon squad leader hard on the forearm.

“Argh!”

As he clutched his throbbing arm, a young, composed voice reached his ears.

“Just putting in more strength doesn’t make for a better attack. You should only use as much as you can control.”

Excess is as bad as deficiency.

No amount of strength alone could split a stone.

Try to cleave a rock with brute force, and you’d only chip and shatter the blade instead.

A ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) rock only breaks when precise force is applied at just the right speed, in the right place.

That was the Red Dragon squad leader now.

His blindly forceful strikes had power—but no true threat.

“When you force too much strength into your swing, your body tenses up. Once your body stiffens, you can’t wield your sword the way you want to.”

“Dammit...!”

The squad leader slashed low, aiming horizontally.

It was a strike meant to exploit Ilhwa’s small stature—but she simply stepped back and dodged with ease.

Then, she bent even lower and slipped under his guard in a flash.

“...!”

He twisted his body to adjust his stance, but—

Smack—!

Ilhwa’s wooden sword was faster. It struck his ankle with a sharp, snapping sound.

“Aaagh!”

The Red Dragon squad leader collapsed in the middle of his turn, hitting the ground with a thud.

He managed to avoid completely face-planting by bracing himself with his wooden sword, but it was still a disgraceful fall.

Ilhwa stepped in front of him.

“Your lower body is too weak. That’s why you lose your balance—and if you lose your balance, of course you’ll keep falling.”

“You...”

Ilhwa raised her wooden sword and pointed it at his neck.

A chill radiated from the blade, sharp enough that the squad leader reflexively sucked in a breath as he lifted his gaze.

“The earth doesn’t shake—so long as I stand on it properly.”

Her gaze, unshaken and steady, was cold beyond belief.

It was Ilhwa’s complete victory.

Not even a tense duel—just a one-sided defeat.

No, calling it a match at all was meaningless. Ilhwa hadn’t even considered this a sparring session to begin with.

‘That should be enough.’

What happened next was up to him.

Would he dismiss her words just because she was a child—or would he reflect on what he’d done wrong?

Ilhwa turned away from the disheartened squad leader and looked down at her own hands.

This was the first time she’d held a sword since purging her inner power.

Was it because her body hadn’t yet adjusted to the loss of strength? Her fingertips tingled faintly, trembling ever so slightly.

‘I’m in no position to be giving advice. I can’t control my strength either.’

Ilhwa let out a short, quiet sigh.

For now, she needed to grow accustomed to this diminished strength.

Meanwhile, the Red Dragon squad leader couldn’t believe what had just happened. He had gone all out to defeat a child—and yet his opponent hadn’t even broken a sweat.

On top of that, she had critiqued his swordsmanship.

Every word had struck at the flaws he’d long been aware of but hadn’t overcome.

‘That child...’

Who was she?

Who could she possibly be—to enter Namgoong’s training grounds as she pleased, and wield such martial skill?

As he stared blankly at her small figure walking away, a sudden realization dawned on him.

‘No way...!’

What if she wasn’t a child at all?

After the match with the Red Dragon squad leader, Ilhwa exited the training ground.

The commotion had drawn too many eyes—this was no longer a place where she could train in peace.

‘I’ll go to the guest courtyard’s training ground.’

She was going to end up there anyway—she’d only drawn unnecessary attention here.

Though it wasn’t a complete waste of time, this too would reach the Clan Head’s ears. A regret remained.

She should have used the Celestial Guest Courtyard’s training ground from the start.

“...!”

As she retraced her steps and walked away, her vision suddenly wavered.

Since returning to the past, she had expelled her inner power and hadn’t had proper rest. Using more strength than expected in this young body had taken a toll.

Her whole body felt drained. Her balance gave out, and she stumbled.

She was falling! The moment she realized it—

Thump!

“Huh?”

Someone caught her collapsing body.

“Hey, kid. Hey.”

Ilhwa shook her head, forcing her vision to focus, and looked up at the person holding her.

It was Seop Mugwang, the commander of the Secret Wind Sword Corps.

“Your face doesn’t look good, kid.”

Before she knew it, her palm was slick with sweat, and cold sweat beaded on her forehead.

Ilhwa quickly rubbed her hand against her trousers.

“I’m fine. Just a little dizzy—ah!”

Before she could finish speaking, her field of view suddenly rose.

By the time a startled squeak escaped her lips, she was already cradled in Seop Mugwang’s arms.

Ilhwa frowned deeply.

“Put me down.”

“Let’s go.”

Seop Mugwang immediately used lightfoot technique and dashed off somewhere.

As the familiar rush of wind brushed past her ears, Ilhwa asked,

“Where are we going?”

Seop Mugwang let out a chuckle.

“You’ll see when we get there.”

****

The place Seop Mugwang brought her to was the Medicine Hall.

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The current head of the Namgoong Clan’s Medicine Hall was someone Ilhwa had never seen in her previous life.

She’d never heard that the hall’s master had fled—but when she’d stormed Namgoong back then, the person was simply gone.

They probably abandoned Namgoong and ran.

Usually, the head of a Medicine Hall wasn’t from the clan but an outsider with exceptional skill. So it was unlikely they were truly one of Namgoong’s own.

In other words, there would’ve been no reason for them to stay in a collapsing house.

So Ilhwa bore no grudge against the Medicine Hall’s master for fleeing. In this life, she intended to make sure there’d be no reason to flee again.

“We’re here.”

Seop Mugwang set her down on the floor.

Ilhwa inhaled deeply as the scent of medicinal herbs entered her nose.

The smell of medicine was always pleasant.

The scent of life.

Even when she was in the Blood Demon Cult, she would sometimes visit their medicine hall and sit there for long stretches of time.

Perhaps it was because, in a place reeking of blood—the stench of death—the smell of medicine was one of the few things that made her feel alive. The moment she stepped into the Medicine Hall, her heart would settle.

As her emotions began to calm, Ilhwa stepped inside the Namgoong Medicine Hall.

“What, gone again?”

Seop Mugwang looked around the interior, ringing the bell at the entrance.

But the master of the hall was nowhere to be seen.

“Ah—where the hell did she run off to now? I told her to stay at her post.... Kid, wait here for a bit.”

Grumbling, Seop Mugwang stepped out to search for the missing hall master.

Ilhwa watched the door he exited through for a moment, then wandered over to look at the rows of herbs laid out inside.

White aster, black cohosh root. Heavenly pulse grass... is this licorice?

They were mostly common herbs—easy to obtain, yet with broad uses.

Namgoong is still Namgoong. The quality’s definitely good.

She was examining a piece of licorice closely when—

“Well, well. What a lovely young lady we have here.”

Startled, Ilhwa turned around.

But when she saw who the voice belonged to, her expression hardened instantly.

“Oh my—”

A high-pitched voice and a giggle that tickled the ears.

A woman in tall shoes and a long, luxurious white robe embroidered with blue silk threads stepped forward gracefully and knelt in front of Ilhwa.

Beneath long eyelashes, deep-set eyes stared intently at her.

When the woman raised her hand, Ilhwa flinched slightly.

The woman let out a soft, lilting laugh.

“My goodness, you’re like a little kitten—so cute.”

Her long lashes curled up as she smiled.

With that raised hand, she gently stroked Ilhwa’s hair.

“How precious.”

The woman’s clear navy-blue eyes were filled with sincere affection for Ilhwa.

There was no trace of hostility in them—only pure goodwill.

Ilhwa knew this woman wasn’t going to harm her. But that didn’t mean she could let her guard down.

Why is she here...?

The master of the Blood Demon Cult’s Medicine Hall—who had always greeted Ilhwa with a smiling face whenever she visited.

A smiling face that masked the truth: that she was an assassin who took delight in killing with poison.

The master of the Blood Demon Cult’s Medicine Hall—Dokwol.

That was the name Ilhwa had known her by in her past life.

Confronted with this entirely unexpected person, Ilhwa’s mind raced.

The first thing she had to determine was this:

Is she with the Blood Demon Cult—or with Namgoong?

Was she a spy planted in Namgoong by the cult? Or had she simply been with Namgoong before joining the cult?

If the former, she had to be eliminated. If the latter, she had to be watched.

Either way, this was no time to let her guard down.

“Did you come because something’s wrong with your meridians? Sweetie, can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?”

When Ilhwa didn’t respond, the Medicine Hall master tilted her head and wiggled her fingers in front of her face.

Just then, Seop Mugwang returned.

“You really are a pain. You’re never around when I need you, and now here you are like nothing happened!”

He’d gone out to look for her, couldn’t find her, and had just come back.

“Is it so strange for me to be at my post? And you’re still as gruff as ever, Master Seop. You look well—how nice.”

“Click. Cut the nonsense.”

“Hm... I don’t see any signs of illness on our ever-healthy Master... Ah, so you came because of this little kitten?”

“Kitten... what...?”

Seop Mugwang’s face scrunched up immediately.

The Medicine Hall master spun around and once again met Ilhwa’s gaze as she sat before her.

“Where does it hurt, dear?”

“Spare me the chatter and just check my pulse.”

“Ah—so you don’t even know what’s wrong with you? Poor thing.”

Her eyebrows drooped in a show of sympathy.

With a gentle movement, her slender hand reached toward Ilhwa.