The forest had barely settled from the last clash when the king's uncle lifted his hand and gave a single command.
"Come out."
The silence broke instantly.
From behind trees, from the shadows, from places no eye had noticed before—armed men emerged, surrounding the king in a tightening circle. Their steps were measured, their blades already drawn, their intent unmistakable.
A trap.
The uncle's lips curved faintly. "Did you truly believe I would face you alone?"
The king did not move. His sword remained steady in his grip, his gaze cold and unwavering. "Then don't waste time."
They attacked all at once.
Steel flashed in every direction as the first wave lunged. The king met them head-on, his movements sharp, efficient, each strike meant to kill. But there were too many. Even as bodies fell, more replaced them, pressing in, forcing him back step by step.
Then a voice broke through the chaos.
"Your Majesty!"
His personal guards burst from the trees, crashing into the enemy ranks with force. The formation broke instantly as blades collided again, louder, fiercer this time. The king did not turn, but the shift in the battle was clear—he was no longer alone.
Before the momentum could settle, another voice followed.
"We're here!"
That one made him turn.
Minsoo stood at the edge of the clearing, breathless but resolute. Suho was beside her, and behind them—unexpected, almost unreal—were the palace chefs, armed with whatever they could carry. Miso, Jihoo… all of them.
The king's expression hardened. "You shouldn't be here."
Minsoo met his gaze without hesitation. "Then survive this and scold me later. Focus."
There was no time to argue.
A sharp whistle cut through the air. One of the men stepped forward—Rowoon. In his hand was something unfamiliar, crude but dangerous.
"Move!" he shouted.
He hurled it toward the enemy line.
The explosion tore through the clearing.
The force threw men off their feet, scattering them as smoke and debris filled the air. For a brief second, everything stalled—the sound, the movement, even breath itself.
And that was all the uncle needed.
He moved through the smoke like a shadow, fast and precise. Before anyone could react, his arm locked around Minsoo, dragging her back as his blade pressed against her throat.
"Enough."
The word cut deeper than any weapon.
Everything stopped.
The king turned slowly, and the moment his eyes found her, something in him stilled completely.
"Let her go."
His voice was low, controlled—but the fury beneath it was unmistakable.
The uncle's grip tightened just slightly. "You still have a weakness."
Minsoo struggled, but the blade at her throat didn't allow much movement.
"Release her," the king said again, more dangerously this time.
"Come alone," the uncle replied calmly. "Face me where no one interferes… and she might live."
The air grew heavy.
The king's jaw clenched, his grip tightening around his sword until his knuckles whitened.
"…fine."
The answer came out quiet, but it carried weight.
Without another word, the uncle pulled Minsoo back, mounted a horse in one swift motion, and rode off into the forest.
"Your Majesty—" Suho stepped forward, but the king was already moving.
"I will end this," he said, mounting his own horse.
And then he was gone.
⸻
The chase did not last long.
The forest opened into a wide clearing, silent and waiting. The uncle stood at its center as if he had known exactly where this would end. Minsoo was bound nearby, her strength fading but her eyes searching desperately.
The king stepped forward, sword in hand. "This ends now."
The uncle let out a quiet laugh. "It should have ended long ago."
Then they moved.
The clash was immediate and brutal. Steel rang sharply as their blades met again and again, each strike heavier than the last. The uncle was not just skilled—he was calculated. Every movement felt prepared, every counter precise.
The king pressed forward with force, but something was wrong. The uncle anticipated him, turned his strength against him, forced him back step by step.
For the first time—the king faltered.
Minsoo's chest tightened. "No…"
Her hands twisted against the ropes, the friction tearing at her skin, but she didn't stop. She couldn't. Not while he was losing.
With one final pull, the bindings loosened.
She stumbled forward, barely steady, her eyes fixed on the fight. A fallen sword lay nearby. Without thinking, she picked it up.
"Your Majesty!"
She threw it.
The blade spun through the air, cutting cleanly between them.
The king caught it instantly.
The shift was immediate.
With renewed force, he struck, pushing the uncle back, breaking his rhythm, gaining ground. For a moment—just a moment—it looked like the tide had turned.
And then—
The uncle moved.
Not toward the king.
Past him.
Too fast.
The king's eyes widened. "Minsoo—!"
But it was already too late.
The blade drove forward without hesitation.
Straight into her.
The impact was silent.
Almost gentle.
Until the blood came.
Minsoo's body stiffened, her breath catching as the sword—the same sword she had thrown—pierced through her chest.
Time stopped.
Her eyes found his.
"…you're safe," she whispered, her voice fragile, fading.
With tears in her eyes.
Then her strength gave out.
She wished to fight.
The king didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't think.
And then—
"NO!"
The sound that tore from him didn't belong to a king.
It belonged to a man who had just lost everything.
Slowly, he turned.
His eyes were no longer filled with grief.
But something far worse.
Something empty.
"…you shouldn't have done that," he said quietly.
Not to her.
To the man standing before him.
His grip tightened around the sword.
"You will die."
And this time—
There was nothing left in him to hold back.
⸻