I Became the Owner of the Heavenly Flower Palace-Chapter 37: Descent from the Mountain

The red palanquin Jincheon rode moved smoothly.

It was hard to believe that this large palanquin was being carried by delicate-looking maids.

Leading the way were the two Wind Commanders and three of the Twelve Signs Commanders, along with about a dozen escorts, while the rest followed in orderly formation behind the palanquin.

“Finally leaving.”

Jincheon let out a sigh.

The sight of Suyo and Mokyo with the palanquin straps on their shoulders felt a little pitiful, but still—just the fact that he was leaving this place lifted a weight off his chest.

Looking back, how tense had those days been?

One bizarre situation after another, all that business about Palace Master, Red Dragon, and Wrath—ways of thinking that made no sense to him.

For Jincheon, it had been nothing but a string of constant pressure.

Even if he had been showered with luxury and attention by beautiful women, it didn’t change that fact.

“The Oracle... probably best not to see her again, huh?”

This might be the last time. There was a chance he wouldn’t be able to keep the promise he made to her.

But meeting her now could derail the departure altogether.

She was smart—and she was one of the few who genuinely wanted Jincheon to stay.

“I’ll just send her a letter later and apologize.”

Brushing off a creeping weakness in his heart, Jincheon let out another quiet sigh.

“Hoo.”

If he had simply handed over the orb, collected his reward, and left without regrets—if he could remember this entire experience like some surreal dream—that would’ve been best.

But there was no helping it.

Even achieving this result had been the best he could manage.

“At the very least, I’m leaving this place, right?”

Jincheon felt satisfied.

The palanquin was more comfortable than expected, and the sheer stability of this enormous four-person litter put him at ease.

As he sat back, relaxed, something unusual caught his eye.

“Hm?”

The procession had just reached the main road out of the Heavenly Flame Palace.

And now people were beginning to gather by the roadside.

But there was no commotion, no murmuring.

They knelt in perfect order, bowing their heads in a formal salute as the procession passed.

Then, after Jincheon moved past, they raised their heads to watch him go.

The rightful heir of the Red Line, the master of the Heavenly Flame Palace—their ruler and sovereign—they watched his back, and the red cloak still draped over his shoulders.

It was a cloak given to him by someone on the day he first entered the palace—gorgeous, but modest compared to the authority of the Red Dragon. And it still accompanied him now.

Those who had been waiting for the procession were no different.

They could see him clearly—Jincheon, seated atop the red palanquin, gazing down at them.

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Just like on that day—the day he had commanded, “Do not die”—his clear, unwavering gaze met theirs again.

That simple, almost unbelievable fact was more than enough to stir the hearts of the gathered crowd.

Jincheon himself, however, was caught off guard.

“Wait... what is this?”

The people’s eyes were intense.

It wasn’t just the atmosphere—it was the emotions in their eyes. Something deeper, something overwhelming.

He could understand the reverence.

He already knew how much the name “Red Dragon” meant to them.

But why were some of them lowering their heads with reddened eyes?

“There’s no way this is just because I’m leaving, right?”

Jincheon couldn’t grasp why simply seeing the Palace Master’s palanquin would make people tear up.

“Well, I guess... they did lose their previous Palace Master in a tragic event.”

Stories with drama move people.

Losing the former master in a tragic accident, and watching the heir depart with his remains and relics—it could certainly tug at the heartstrings.

Still, as the one in the center of it all, Jincheon found it baffling.

“Should I... do something?”

Shff.

With a composed face, Jincheon raised a hand in a small gesture of acknowledgment.

He wasn’t expecting a reaction, nor did he think it would lighten the mood.

But the people’s response was completely unlike anything he had imagined.

“Snf.”

A quiet sniffle started it.

Then men and women, elders and youths alike—everyone began to cry.

Jincheon immediately understood.

“Ah...”

This was their heart, offered not to him, but to the former Palace Master.

Regret for not protecting him, sorrow at his loss, and not a trace of falsehood in the tears.

Jincheon too had to grit his teeth to hold back a sudden rush of emotion.

“That old man... seriously...”

He remembered the man’s words.

— It’s a good place. Full of good people.

It really was a good place.

How could it not be, this hidden paradise nestled deep in the Giryeon Mountains?

And the people were good.

Strange, yes. Incomprehensible at times. But not once had they done him harm.

“A little... unreasonable, maybe. But that’s geography for you.”

When a region is geographically isolated, its culture and customs inevitably become closed off and exclusive.

Looking out at the high peaks of the Giryeon Mountains stretching endlessly ahead, anyone would find it understandable.

“Still, grown adults crying like this...”

Jincheon did his best to hold back the tear that was threatening to fall.

If he broke down here, there was no telling how much worse things would get.

“Shall we stop {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} for a moment?”

Ilyo asked in a soft voice.

Even her tone sounded damp with emotion.

“No,”

Jincheon replied, his voice just slightly hoarse.

“...Let’s go.”

“Yes.”

That ended the conversation.

With no fanfare, no cheers—only the quiet, scattered sound of weeping—the red palanquin carrying Jincheon slowly made its way out of the streets of the Heavenly Valley.

****

Whoosh, whip.

A sharp wind brushed past Jincheon’s ears.

Unconsciously, he gripped the armrest tightly.

Thick branches came rushing toward his face as if they might strike him.

“Ugh—”

But the palanquin passed cleanly through without hitting anything.

Jincheon exhaled in relief—but couldn’t bring himself to relax.

The scenery was still flying past on both sides at a dizzying speed.

Clatter.

The ornaments hanging from the palanquin shook and jingled.

Jincheon tensed up completely.

“I-Is this really okay? Seriously?”

He couldn’t count how many times that thought had crossed his mind.

Riding a palanquin down a mountain trail—at this speed—was something he’d never imagined possible.

What astonished him even more was that despite all the wild motion, the palanquin stayed perfectly level.

In fact, considering the speed, there was remarkably little shaking.

Tap, tap, swish.

The four maids carrying the palanquin—Suyo, Mokyo, Geumyo, and Toyo—were racing down the treacherous mountain path as if performing acrobatics.

Just the weight of the palanquin alone should’ve been intense, yet they moved like it was nothing.

It was a direct display of their extraordinary capabilities.

“East Wind Commander said something like this too...”

He remembered Ak Mujin talking about how impressive the Seven Luminaries were.

Hadn’t the Oracle also mentioned them?

Whish, whip.

Another branch rushed toward him and made Jincheon flinch.

But it passed with room to spare, never touching the raised walls or the roof of the palanquin.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, Jincheon glanced around.

Tap, taptap.

The dozens of escorts behind them still maintained perfect formation.

Their light, agile movement almost made Jincheon question if they were truly human.

“...At this point, I can see why they don’t need roads.”

Of course, there were probably other reasons too. But these people clearly didn’t feel inconvenienced by it.

“Come to think of it, I didn’t see Lady Po earlier when we left the valley.”

Po Eunryeong—silver hair, blue eyes—had helped him alongside Gi Seoran.

She had likely been stationed around the edge of the valley, yet Jincheon hadn’t seen her on the way out.

He was disappointed—he had wanted to thank her.

“Well, I’ll just send her a letter later...”

“Descending now.”

At Ilyo’s voice, a sudden lurch downward made Jincheon feel as though the floor had dropped out from under him.

He clung tightly to the armrest.

“Ack!”

A chill shot down the back of his legs.

He just barely managed to stifle a groan, but his startled expression couldn’t be hidden.

Even if he was inside a palanquin, falling through the air was still terrifying.

Flap-flap.

Next to him, Ilyo’s robes fluttered as she dropped beside him.

So did the other maids—and all seventy of the escorts.

Had Jincheon looked up, he would’ve seen a spectacular sight of dozens of people plummeting from above.

But the four walls of the palanquin, lifted high, and the broad roof above blocked the sky from view.

“A-Are you alright?!”

Jincheon shouted toward Ilyo.

He had to raise his voice—otherwise, he wouldn't be heard over the rushing wind.

“Yes.”

Her answer wasn’t loud, but it rang clearly in his ears, like a whisper right beside him.

“But are we still inside the Heavenly Flame Palace, or outside it?”

That clear, high-pitched voice belonged to Geumyo.

At that moment, the palanquin sharply slowed down.

Swfff.

As gently as a snowflake landing, the palanquin touched the ground.

And then, like a bowstring released, it surged forward again.

The dozens of escorts followed suit—landing from midair and instantly bursting into a sprint.

“Uwaahhh!”

“Obviously we’re outside. That’s why they’re using voice projection.”

Toyo, the youngest, replied in a quiet voice as she dashed down the trail.

Geumyo tilted her head.

“But didn’t you say the place where the Red Dragon resides is the Heavenly Flame Palace? So wouldn’t that mean the inside of the palanquin is the Palace? Does that mean you’re only allowed to speak normally inside the palanquin? Where’s the actual boundary, then?”

There was no reply.

Tap, taptap.

As the palanquin continued to race forward, Jincheon thought to himself,

“Are they using that... voice transmission technique? Is that why I can’t hear the answer? Ngh—”

His thoughts were cut off as the palanquin suddenly changed direction.

He gripped the armrest tighter as Ilyo murmured,

“We’ll reach the end of the mountain trail shortly.”

Jincheon was relieved.

Being able to descend a mountain this fast was mind-blowing—but all he wanted now was for it to be over. That was the only thing on his mind.

“Ah, good to kn—”

“Descending.”

“Wuhaaaagh!”

The sudden drop made Jincheon let out a weird sound before he could stop himself.

Ilyo politely pretended not to hear it.

— Oh my, “wuhaaaagh”?

— Kyaaha.

— Did anyone catch a glimpse of the Red Dragon’s face just now? No?

The sisters’ lively chatter flooded the air via voice transmission—there was no stopping it.

— I saw it.

— Tell me! Tell me!

— Hehehe, should I? Should I not?

— Ah, come on! Tell us alreadyyy!

Listening to their gleeful banter through the air, Ilyo didn’t mention the fact that she had been at the very front—quietly watching Jincheon’s expression the whole time.

Whish, whoosh.

Still gripping the armrest, Jincheon sat inside the red palanquin that, along with seventy escorts, surged down the mountainside like a crimson dragon swimming through the forested slope—unstoppable.