Chapter 47 — My Disciple
Baek In-gyeom came to visit Lee Hee-song.
It was a rare visit—one that did not belong to the rhythm of ordinary affairs.
Lee received him with the utmost courtesy, as one greets a figure beyond rank.
Outwardly, the visitor appeared a man in his middle years.
Yet in truth, he was a man who had walked the world a century before.
His age could not be measured.
His name lingered in records long faded, a presence that refused to pass.
"Oh—what brings you here, Immortal?"
"I have something to say."
Lee gave a thin smile.
"So, I have erred again."
Baek In-gyeom looked at him for a moment, then clicked his tongue softly.
"You know Lee Young-woo."
"I do not concern myself with men beneath me."
He spoke as though the matter had never crossed his mind.
Yet they had spoken of it at length in council.
To deny knowledge now was to declare—whatever followed—he bore no part in it.
Baek In-gyeom saw through it at once.
"That answer will bring you trouble."
"Must you speak in threats?"
"You discussed it at length, and now you deny it.
If we accept that and remain silent, what does that make us?"
"That is not—"
"If anything happens to that boy, you will die.
The one who planned it will die.
The one who carried it out will die.
The entire force at the Western Gate may follow them into the underworld."
Lee Hee-song faltered.
He was no fool.
When a man who had long turned his back on worldly affairs spoke like this, there was cause.
He had acted without knowing that cause.
And those before him were not men who spoke idly.
Cunning he was—but not witless.
"…And what is that boy to you?"
His eyes gleamed as he asked.
In men consumed by power, there was no above or below.
Before ambition, wealth, women, kin, honor—none of it held meaning.
Even one's own life became a bargaining piece.
Baek In-gyeom regarded him in silence.
"My disciple."
The words were few.
The air within the command tent grew heavy at once.
The faint smile vanished from Lee's face.
He rose abruptly to his feet.
A disciple of an Immortal.
If harm came to such a one, nothing would remain unchanged.
He knew well how those men regarded the bond between master and disciple.
It felt unreasonable.
He wanted to protest.
"That boy—how could he be your disciple?
He was nothing but a menial, a drudge in the ranks."
"I saw his heart.
That was enough."
"This is forced—this makes no sense."
"The northern army of Goryeo drove Baek In-gyeom's disciple toward death.
Let us see what comes of that.
I, too, am curious."
Lee could not meet his gaze.
His eyes fell to the ground.
"The House of Lee will fall.
The Seo clan of Gaegyeong will fall.
The Wang royal house, which entrusted the army in such a state to guard the realm—I will see to them as well."
The Wang royal house.
Something flashed through Lee's mind.
Too late.
Only then did he understand.
"I… I beg your forgiveness."
His heavy body moved like wind.
He turned at once, strode out, and mounted his horse in a single motion.
Then he rode—hard—for the Western Gate.
A man who rarely stirred now moved with terrifying speed.
His sub-commanders sensed it immediately.
Something had gone wrong.
They followed after him.
The strongest of the northern army rode together.
Lee Hee-song's horsemanship was flawless.
He mounted at a run, and in the same breath urged the horse into full speed.
Man and beast moved as one.
There was no trace of his usual sluggishness.
They reached the Western Gate in a rush.
Too late.
There was nothing.
"They said tomorrow…"
But the report had lied.
They had already left.
"Where are they?"
The gate officer stepped forward.
"They departed to intercept the enemy."
"And Lee Young-woo?"
"He went with them."
"They said tomorrow."
"It is today."
Lee's foot struck the man's chest.
The officer fell back, breath crushed from him, writhing soundlessly.
"Useless bastards—can't even report properly."
The sub-commanders arrived behind him.
"General."
"He said tomorrow. They moved today."
Many still did not understand.
"General, tell us what has happened."
"The Western commander means to kill Lee Young-woo."
That, in itself, was no secret.
"Yes."
"But Lee Young-woo is the disciple of an Immortal."
"…Ah."
Understanding spread.
His impossible feats, his uncanny abilities—
they began to make sense.
They knew what that title meant.
Lee exhaled, the sound closer to a groan.
"He is Baek In-gyeom's disciple."
The men climbed the gate tower.
They looked out beyond the walls.
The army that had ridden out was already gone.
Only the dust remained.
It drifted in the wind, slowly scattering into nothing.