I Became the Owner of the Heavenly Flower Palace-Chapter 30: This Is the Only Way

Tying the black cords took longer than expected.

After the four commanders of the Four Winds, twelve more unfamiliar names followed in succession.

By the time he reached the sixth—Commander of the Snake Sign, Mi Yeonrang—Jincheon gave up trying to remember them.

“Anyway...”

These were people he might never see again after this event.

There was no need to bother engraving names he couldn’t even recall into his mind.

Rustle.

The last one in line, the man named Commander of the Pig Sign, Pabil, bowed and returned to his place.

Just as he had suspected when he first heard the term “Commander of the Rat Sign,” the Twelve Signs were named after the twelve branches of the zodiac.

When people hear “zodiac,” they usually think of animals, but that came later. Originally, the branches were classifications related to time and celestial movement—so the names were likely chosen with that in mind.

Seated high in his chair, Jincheon looked down at the sixteen who now bowed their heads before him.

“South Wind.”

“...Yes, sir.”

The stern-looking man answered with his head lowered.

Jincheon asked,

“Where is the loyalty and truth you swore to uphold?”

South Wind Commander Jwahallim’s long beard trembled slightly as he answered softly,

“They belong to the Red Dragon alone.”

“Indeed. Then, as you have sworn, simply remain loyal.”

In other words, don’t argue—just follow orders.

That was enough to end the exchange, but it felt a bit too harsh, so Jincheon decided to add a few more words.

“Do that, and I will remember you even in death.”

Fwoosh.

In that moment, an overwhelming force erupted from Jwahallim’s body.

Ilyo instantly stepped in front of Jincheon, and the heads of North Wind, East Wind, and West Wind all whipped around—but the force vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

Thud.

The sound echoed through the Grand Hall like something shattering.

The South Wind Commander had slammed his forehead against the floor with great force.

Thud, thud.

The sound came two more times.

Then he raised his head.

“South Wind Commander Jwahallim.”

Blood flowed down from his forehead and spread across his face, but he didn’t care.

“I offer my loyalty and truth to the Red Dragon!”

The wild gleam in his eyes was something Jincheon recognized immediately.

It was madness.

A chill ran down Jincheon’s spine.

This reaction was completely unexpected.

“...Why... why is it like this again?”

To be honest, “I’ll remember you even in death” was a common expression.

People said it when swearing revenge, or over petty grudges, or even after small favors.

But this kind of response?

Jwahallim said no more. The madness in his eyes remained, glinting vividly.

Jincheon barely managed to steady his racing heart.

“Thought I was about to die there.”

It seemed he’d managed to get through it somehow.

At any rate, things were turning out well enough.

“East Wind was like that too—why are these people reacting so intensely...?”

Granted, remembering the loyal dead is a weighty promise.

It had just come to him in the moment, riding the momentum and trying to soften things a little—but he hadn’t expected this.

“I can’t predict them at all.”

Muttering inwardly, Jincheon suddenly locked eyes with Ilyo.

And he realized she was looking at him with anticipation—overflowing with it.

Not just her.

Everyone kneeling beneath the dais had their gazes fixed on Jincheon.

Their eyes blazed with heat and expectation, blatantly and without restraint.

“Ugh.”

Jincheon couldn’t bring himself to ignore those sparkling eyes.

In the end, it was his own mouth that had brought this upon him.

“I now speak to you all.”

A little—no, very—cringe-inducing, but there was no helping it.

“Remain loyal. And I will not forget you, even in death.”

Those kneeling on one knee immediately bent forward, placing both hands on the ground.

And a great sound echoed through the Grand Hall.

Thud, thud, thud.

They struck their foreheads to the floor in unison.

And then, they cried out as one,

“We offer our loyalty and truth to the Red Dragon!”

Their voices rang out, filling the vast chamber.

And it wasn’t just the Four Winds and Twelve Signs.

Even the six palace maids standing at the entrance, and Ilyo beside him, dropped to one knee and bowed their heads.

“But the maids already did this earlier... and they swore their oath yesterday too...”

Jincheon thought it was unnecessary repetition—but he wasn’t so tactless as to say so out loud.

“Rise.”

Rustle.

The Four Winds, the Twelve Signs, and the Seven Luminaries all stood.

Looking down at the seven maids and the sixteen figures with black cords around their necks, Jincheon took a deep breath.

He had successfully stopped those who were ready to die.

He had avoided being pushed into a point of no return—a place of irreversible consequences and unbearable responsibility.

And finally, the moment had come to say this:

Meeting the eyes that were all fixed on him, Jincheon spoke.

“I will now head for the Central Plains.”

Originally, the term “Central Plains” referred only to a portion of the middle and lower Yellow River basin.

But from the Gansu region where they stood, the meaning was crystal clear.

The reactions split dramatically.

“O Red Dragon!”

The brawny East Wind Commander, Ak Mujin, shouted loudly.

“I shall follow you without hesitation!”

“O Red Dragon!”

The long-bearded South Wind Commander, Jwahallim, spoke next.

“This is not a decision to be made in haste! The timing is unfavorable—please, I implore you to consider carefully before making your judgment!”

“O Red Dragon!”

Suddenly, the Grand Hall fell into disorder.

Perhaps it was because of heightened emotions, or maybe it was always a sensitive topic—either way, the hall overflowed with cries calling out to the Red Dragon and shouting arguments against one another.

“O Red Dragon! Have mercy and take heed! This concerns the very survival of the Heavenly Valley!”

“O Red Dragon! Precisely because of that, we must draw our swords now! How can we possibly let those who defiled the Dragon’s body go unpunished? O Red Dragon!”

At this point, “O Red Dragon” was being thrown around so often, it might as well have been a ritualistic prefix.

Jincheon wavered briefly on how to respond, but soon made his decision.

“Let’s just stay quiet.”

Fortunately, it didn’t seem like he absolutely had to say anything. Even if he remained silent, they would argue amongst themselves just fine.

And if it drained some of their energy, all the better. Jincheon decided to just listen for now.

“O Red Dragon! The restoration of Bicheon’s Ten Lands is the eternal wish of the Heavenly Flame Palace! Please do not forget this!”

“Utter nonsense! Precisely to reclaim the Ten Lands, we must strike the Central Plains first! Don’t tell me you trust those people!”

“You’re the one who should realize the truth! This meeting has already cost us greatly—how can we afford to take further losses?!”

They were tossing around terms that seemed significant, but Jincheon didn’t understand any of it.

What interested him more was the divide between people’s stances.

“East Wind... so he’s the one pushing for war, while South Wind is advocating peace?”

To be precise, it wasn’t quite peace—more like he was suggesting they handle things one at a time.

So in the end, both agreed they had to fight; they just differed on the approach.

“So who’s older?”

East Wind Commander Ak Mujin looked like a burly man in his middle age—strong and imposing.

If they’d met in an informal setting, Jincheon might’ve called him “hyung” like an older brother.

On the other hand, South Wind Commander Jwahallim looked older, perhaps due to his long beard.

But judging by how they treated each other, it almost seemed like the bearded Jwahallim deferred to Ak Mujin, who looked younger.

Even earlier, when they stepped forward, Jwahallim had come after Mujin.

“I really can’t tell how old any of these people are...”

Jincheon’s gaze naturally drifted to North Wind Commander Neung Gayeon.

When their eyes met, she smiled softly.

If not for the title of Commander, she would seem like a refined, noble lady from an aristocratic household—gentle and beautiful.

“Hmm.”

But Jincheon had never exchanged looks with a woman like this before.

Embarrassed, he turned his head—only to find West Wind Commander Ban Yoye there.

Apparently, she’d already been watching him, because her eyes curved into a sultry arc as she smiled.

Her clothing was so luxurious and revealing that Jincheon honestly wondered if it was even allowed.

Ahem.

Jincheon averted his gaze and cleared his throat awkwardly.

And just then, silence descended upon the Grand Hall.

“...Huh?”

Jincheon tilted his head in confusion.

East Wind Commander Ak Mujin and South Wind Commander Jwahallim, who had just been shouting, now stood with their heads bowed respectfully.

“Please give us your command.”

The soft voice of North Wind Commander Neung Gayeon followed, explaining the situation.

They had interpreted Jincheon’s throat-clearing as a command for silence.

“Well, that worked out.”

He had to cut off the argument eventually anyway.

There seemed to ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ be some major misunderstandings going around.

Updat𝒆d fr𝒐m freewebnσvel.cøm.

“When I say I will head for the Central Plains,”

Jincheon began quietly.

“It is to confirm the will of the previous generation and to recover what was left behind.”

He deliberately used the phrase “previous generation,” and instead of “relics” or “last words,” he chose to say “what was left behind.”

These people seemed to regard the former Palace Master’s death as an absolute fact—but Jincheon didn’t believe that man was truly dead.

“Right. I need to confirm his intent. What on earth was he thinking...”

Jincheon clenched his teeth.

“...When he pulled off this ridiculous stunt.”

That man had said it would be over once Jincheon delivered the item—but everyone meant to receive it was trembling, saying they couldn’t possibly accept it.

And now they were making a huge fuss, calling Jincheon the new Red Dragon and the Palace Master, leaving him stuck in the middle.

What was he supposed to do in this situation?

Obviously, he needed to return the damn thing. He had to go back to that middle-aged man who’d given him the job, demand an explanation, throw the item back at him, and get compensation.

“Double the pay.”

He’d done the job twice now, so charging double was only fair.

Jincheon felt completely justified.

But to do that, he had to find him.

He needed to figure out where that man had gone after climbing out of the sewer—what had happened, where he was hiding.

If he could meet him again, all the mysteries would naturally be answered, and the truth would come to light.

“The more I think about that guy...”

Looking back, it was just absurd and ridiculous.

The man had suddenly dumped everything on Jincheon—who had been doing fine, well, not great, but still managing—and ruined everything.

“...And besides.”

There was another benefit to heading for the Central Plains.

“If push comes to shove, I can run.”

Here, Jincheon couldn’t move a finger or speak a word freely.

The Seven Luminaries, the seven palace maids, followed him like shadows—sure, they were gorgeous, but they were still a source of stress.

Even judging from what the Oracle had said, Jincheon wasn’t free here in the slightest.

But if he returned to the Central Plains, things might be different.

No matter how blindly loyal or fanatical these people were, they couldn’t act recklessly in a place where imperial law was still enforced and government soldiers kept vigilant watch.

“...Probably, right?”

His confidence wavered for a moment, but Jincheon forced himself to stay resolute.

This was the only way.