Chapter 369

Makseok desperately reaches out.

*Clang!* The tip of the sword collides with his palm, producing a thunderous sound.

“Hmph. I’m no longer some half-baked supreme martial artist struggling against a phony Realm of Transformation.”

Now I’ve evolved into a transcendent, supreme being of ultimate martial skill!

Qing’s immense inner strength transforms into a heavy qigong that digs deep into Makseok’s palm.

Makseok sprays blood, getting pushed back about five paces.

Qing is bubbling with frustration.

“Am I! Really! Princess! Is that such a big deal? What’s the big deal about me?!”

Each word packs a heavy emotional punch as powerful sword strikes follow.

Again and again, the Sword Aura loops around; Makseok desperately deflects, only managing to conjure up little more than a flicker of fire as he tries to keep up.

Just when it seems to fly straight, it suddenly curves and slashes his forearm, with the strikes abruptly veering sharply. Yet, those are still powerful strikes.

If you examine the trajectory of the sword, it’s reminiscent of the Moon Lady’s sword technique from the martial arts world.

Then, somewhere along the way, the strikes awkwardly switch directions, spinning in a nonsensical flurry, like foolish kids imitating warriors, but—

The attacks are bizarrely powerful, completely unpredictable, keeping Makseok too busy to defend against the relentless Sword Aura.

Suddenly, the qigong splits into three!

Makseok grits his teeth as fiery sparks properly ignite around his shoulder—

*Whoosh!*

A sudden force from behind pushes Makseok off balance.

It’s the Northern Army.

Unfazed, they attempt to join in the fight of high-level masters, thrusting their spears.

The soldiers explode into chaos.

Even as five sharpened swords pierced his back, he felt like his hands would tear apart. Instead of injuries, he barely managed to push back just one step.

But high-level fighters must exercise caution even while taking a breath.

Qing, too, barely dodged a calamity when one glance away had three ‘nourishing mounds’ piling up.

Especially since Makseok had faltered mid-fight.

Qing’s Moonlight Sword draws three crescent moons, spiraling in a tempest as they slice through, snapping a finger cleanly off and sending it tumbling onto the frozen ground.

“Aaaarrgh! How dare you!”

Makseok’s eyes are wide with fury.

Suddenly, a cascade of blue qigong envelops his entire body, pouring down like strips of clear sky lighting.

If a Kunlun Sect master had seen this, their eyes could have swirled just like Makseok’s. But how could those distant Daoists see it from afar?

As the qigong flows upwards toward the sky, Makseok slowly begins to rise.

The moment Qing crouches down, vigilance kicking in—

Dark forms come zooming in and enveloping Makseok.

It’s a pitch-black net.

One snaps firmly over him, followed by others spreading like spider webs from every direction and wrapping around him, dragging him down.

Covered in five layers of nets, Makseok flails about, completely helpless, falling from three heights with a resounding thud.

“Nice!”

Wow, a net!

There’s no more irritating tactic than this when hitting Qing.

But using it against the enemy made me think, is there any other weapon as marvelous as this?

Qing smirks, prodding with his sword repeatedly.

He wore a wickedly sly expression.

“Hey, wait! This is cheating! Let’s be fair!”

“What’s unfair about someone who charges in with a group?!”

With every swing Makseok takes, the sound of fraying nets prevails.

Yet he’s still wrapped up in five layers!

No matter how many he breaks, one somehow remains stuck.

Reaching out, it stabs his side, stepping backward causes another net to cling to his feet, twisting his waist pulls at his hair; he’s entirely at their mercy.

Growing resentment wells up in Makseok’s eyes.

Oh, that feeling!

Qing completely empathizes as he yanks his sword back fiercely.

The sword pierces Makseok just below the right chest, driving bluntly through the muscles between chest and abdomen.

Flames flicker in Qing’s eyes, the whirling qigong twines around, tearing through flesh, and Qing brightly smiles while yanking his sword out violently.

“Cough!”

Makseok coughs up blood.

He curls up on the ground, spilling his insides mixed with blood time after time.

The brutal whirl of the spinning sword technique has shredded his guts, leaving him like a corpse still clinging to life.

After swinging once to splatter the blood and guts away, Qing painstakingly sheathes his Moonlight Sword.

It’s a good sword: long and heavy, but too long, making a striking pose while exposing his side a little…

Makseok breathes his last, entangled in nets as dozens of spear tips converge upon him.

Only a few know Makseok was an incomplete being of the Realm of Transformation, so even after his death, the guards remain watchful until the general steps forward to nudge the corpse over and rummage through its belongings.

Gripping the imperial insignia tightly, the general inspects it closely.

Five dragon claws, nine peacock feathers.

A symbol only known to the Emperor’s consort—a fact anyone with common sense would recognize.

What level of excellence this symbolizes is beyond measure, and polishing the beautifully crafted gold with meticulous care, the general starts spinning his mind.

What kind of convolution has he gotten wrapped up in?

The Emperor seeks to secretly kill his own siblings, while the Empress sends the princess to thwart him and rescue the prince.

Yet, the general is a well-known commander of the Dae-sun Army in the Northern Army.

This signifies ambition.

Those without ambition won’t rise to fame, while solely ambitious people lack skills to achieve fame.

The palace has become a nest of intrigue, a moment the ambitious have long awaited.

An opportunity to spread their wings wide and soar!

The general kneels, politely presenting the insignia.

“This humble servant of the Northern Army seeks an audience with the princess. Please forgive the foolishness of not recognizing your noble countenance.”

“I’ve kept my identity hidden, so I don’t blame you. Thus, General, you are innocent. I will assure you of that.”

Qing readily forgives him.

She may have deep-rooted feelings, but she’s inherently straightforward.

A bit of casual banter won’t offend her feelings in the least, nor has she received a badly treated gesture.

“Thank you for your mercy, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you!”

The Northern Army members call out and bow simultaneously from behind.

The general glances over briefly at the carriage.

It’s certain that Prince Deokhyeon is aboard, yet his absence signifies agreement for an unofficial arrangement.

So, what should he do?

The general carefully opens his mouth.

“May I inquire where Your Noble Mama is heading? We would be honored to escort you.”

“No. My path leads south, so aren’t you leaving your northern side unattended? You should fulfill the military’s obligations.”

If “south” refers to Guangxi or Guangdong, there lies the capital’s palace.

The general starts to grasp the operational significance.

A meeting of princes, one of the Emperor’s least favorite scenarios.

If just four or five princes gather with control over a single city’s military strength, how enormous would that force be?

It’s essentially a blatant admission of harboring ill intentions.

Thus, Prince Deokhyeon must move secretly without others discovering him.

If he made an official appearance, it would be tantamount to revealing a betrayal.

Moving covertly means the Emperor could act.

Disguising himself as a bandit, slipping past to eliminate the threats, isn’t it said that the Golden Guards could hold a funeral afterward?

Though labeled as rebels, they spoke of maintaining titles even after death, silently burying them and conducting official mourning.

Suspicious gatherings of princes.

The Emperor senses something amiss.

And yet, the Empress supports the princes?

This could potentially shift the weight of the throne—oh, what an opportunity to become a minister of a new regime!

The general drums up scenarios passionately in his head, weaving plots wildly.

But despite being competent, the gist isn’t too far-fetched.

From the beginning, the Empress only handed the treasured insignia to her daughter to ensure she wouldn’t be outshone anywhere.

She’s prepping to root out the fakers pretending to be Princess Yeonsul, so that’s all it is.

Regardless, the general’s resolve is unwavering.

“Princess, though I might be lacking…”

He pulls out a token from his pocket and quietly offers it up.

“With the hearts of the Northern Army behind, I will await your call, willing to sacrifice my life whenever needed.”

Qing generally doesn’t refuse when presented with gifts.

She simply takes them as they come.

In fact, she’s begun to enjoy collecting tokens as her stash increases.

But when Qing receives the token, the general’s heart races like thunder, feeling as if lightning had struck him.

The act of handing over his insignia signals that he’s willing to be embroiled in any matters to come, essentially pledging his loyalty to serve her wholeheartedly.

“Well then, we shall clean the battlefield thoroughly before we return. Please take care until we meet again.”

The Golden Guards plan to dispose of the corpses and erase the evidence before departing.

After granting them permission, Qing hurriedly leads the way, eager to avoid further entanglement.

She didn’t want anyone to catch sight of her deteriorating condition, so she has only accepted the token for now, yet her brows furrowed as she pulled it closer for a better look.

On the front, it bears the Northern Army, Dae-sun, and General.

The back has three characters believed to be a name, which when piecing together looks like this.

Northern Army, Dae-sun Army, General: Lee Jaseong.

Qing tilts her head in confusion.

But why did he give this?

Does he expect her to come visit the North?

Why, don’t friends always hand one out when inviting for a visit?

Sure, it wasn’t directed specifically at her, but rather for the Empress Mama.

For the general, Qing was like a princess with whom the Empress shared a bond.

But Qing remains oblivious.

Because, well, she is Qing.

—-

Now that all the Golden Guards are dead, there’s no reason to avoid the North.

So, they head north, and a half-day’s journey will lead to a city called Suning.

As Qing pulls the cart along, something quiet within Jae-yu finally speaks up.

“Uh, dear friend… I mean, um. Princess? Yeonsul? Is that you?”

Why hadn’t she realized it until now?

The misshapen traits of childhood linger on.

Although technically, she had never really been a ‘child’ since she didn’t quite fit the mold at ten years old, she was much like the seventeen-year-old prince in height.

Yeah, that was oddly comforting, remembering when she first saw the prince in Sichuan.

It seemed her voice echoed familiar, having unconsciously spoken as if they were close friends.

But why would she do that?

What reason did she have to conceal her identity and pretend to befriend her uncle?

Qing scratched her cheek before replying.

“Honestly? I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I really don’t. I have no recollection. The only memories I hold from the Central Plain are five years ago? Has it really been five years? Time flies. Anyway, I just woke up in a cave for the first time. Then this summer, I met the Empress Mama at the Shaolin Temple, and she said the princess in the palace is a fake while I’m the real one.”

“Hmph.”

“Does your friend recognize the real Yeonsul? Do I look like a princess? Didn’t the Golden Guards say I was prettier?”

“Honestly speaking, you do resemble her, I realized after listening. But no memory? I heard you had a serious illness.”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember. Why? Do I look like a princess?”

“Honestly speaking, you look just like a horned pony!”

At this, Jae-yu’s mouth curves into a playful smirk.

“Hmm, dear niece.”

“Niece? What niece? I’m Seomun Qing! I’m not Yeonsul, I’m Seomun Qing! That name was just a guise because I had enemies surrounding me.”

“Your blood relation doesn’t change because of that. Niece! How could you be so rude to your uncle?”

Yeo-reum, who has been listening quietly, looks stiff.

What is this conversation?

Is this absurd girl seriously acting like a princess?

If she were the real deal?

If Seomun Qing was truly a princess?

Yeo-reum shivers.

If the identity of this ugly daughter truly were a princess…

Her gaze lights up with joy.

What could be more magnificent than that!

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