I Became the Owner of the Heavenly Flower Palace-Chapter 22: You All

Jincheon was at a loss for words.

The countless gazes fixed on him were utterly overwhelming.

It went beyond surprise—this was fearsome.

“No way...”

He told himself they couldn’t have stayed out here all night, but even to him, that sounded unconvincing.

As Jincheon stood frozen, unable to react—

Rustle.

The people knelt.

The motion spread like a great wave, slowly rippling outward.

Starting from the front and continuing all the way to the edge of his vision, they dropped to one knee and bowed their heads in reverence.

All of them—toward one person alone.

Toward Jincheon.

“Ugh.”

A chill ran down his spine.

More than surprise or confusion, it felt like he was staring into something unfamiliar and incomprehensible—something beyond human.

Jincheon turned his gaze, visibly shaken.

The woman he’d seen last night, who appeared to be the head of the gate guards, had removed her helmet and knelt, her head bowed.

“...Were they here since last night?”

The question slipped out in formal speech, purely from shock—he didn’t have the presence of mind to rephrase it.

“Yes.”

The woman answered, still kneeling with her helmet off. Jincheon asked again.

“Why?”

Maybe that was a foolish question.

He already knew the reason, instinctively.

“It was to behold the Red Dragon.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

To Jincheon’s question, she continued, her eyes burning with heat.

“To be present for the final entrance of the Red Dragon... it has been an honor.”

Jincheon flinched.

Her tone was exactly the same as someone else's from the night before.

“Are you going to die?”

His question was met with a brief silence.

Then, in a low voice, she answered.

“I am one of those who guard the palace. I have failed to fulfill my rightful duty. I have only death left to prove my loyalty and truth.”

Ha...

Jincheon felt hollow.

And then he remembered what Gi Seoran had told him the night before.

That the former Palace Master had been assassinated, and that the Commander of the Four Winds and the Twelve Cloud Generals were to be held responsible—and executed.

And it didn’t end there:

"Among the Heavenly Flame and Baekrim, there will be no small number who take their own lives out of guilt."

These people hadn’t gathered here just to see the face of the Palace Master.

It wasn’t for some historical event. It certainly wasn’t out of curiosity for a famous figure.

Jincheon realized—

“This... this is their final knot.”

There are turning points in life.

Just as a year is divided into seasons, human life has natural or constructed milestones—weddings, funerals, rites of passage.

And with each one, people tie off a segment of time.

To move forward, or to overcome grief and hardship—they create and tie the knots of life.

And now, Jincheon understood: for these people, this was one such knot.

“This damn place...”

Jincheon grew angry.

If it were just a normal ritual or seasonal observance, there would be no problem. In fact, those were necessary.

But this knot, this turning point—was it not leading to death?

Grit.

He clenched his teeth.

Then he looked out over the crowd that had bowed to him.

They reminded him of a colossal beast lowering its head.

After watching for a moment, Jincheon turned his head and spoke to the woman leading the gate security.

“What is your name?”

His tone had changed.

But she didn’t seem to mind.

“I am Ji Yeowol of the Baekrim.”

“I see.”

He didn’t know the name, but nodded anyway. Then he glanced at the crowd.

“Ji Yeowol. Can you convey my words to them?”

“I certainly can.”

Still kneeling, she added:

“If you give the order to the Seven Attendants, everyone here will be able to hear your words directly.”

What is she talking about? Jincheon turned his head, and the maid behind him—Sunday, Nanyak—stepped forward.

To the softly bowed maid, Jincheon asked:

“Can you?”

“Yes.”

The gate captain had said, “Everyone here can hear your words directly.”

Jincheon didn’t understand how, but Nanyak stepped closer, and the other six maids spread out to his left and right like wings.

“We are ready.”

Jincheon still didn’t get it.

They were just standing next to him, weren’t they? But the maids didn’t move a muscle.

“Please speak.”

Nanyak said quietly.

Not wanting to ask further, Jincheon turned to face the crowd.

From the palace gate to the farthest point in the street, people knelt and bowed their heads before him.

Jincheon opened his mouth.

“Rise.”

In that moment, he felt something strange.

His voice echoed all around him.

“Huh?”

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t an echo.

It sounded as though his voice was being spoken clearly, right next to every person in every direction.

And the people rose.

Starting from the front, and continuing all the way to the very end of the street.

“...They really heard me? Even that far back?”

He glanced at the maids at his sides. The only change was that some of them had extended their hands.

Maybe the crowd was just reacting to the ones in front.

But this wasn’t the time to dwell on that.

“You all.”

Jincheon spoke quietly, slowly.

“Do not die.”

Silence fell.

Among the already quiet crowd, a heavy tension began to descend—as though something massive had pressed down upon them.

Jincheon could feel the tension too.

But he couldn’t back down now.

He opened his mouth.

“I will carry the burden of the former master’s deeds, and I will embrace the faults he left behind.”

It was a delicate truth.

The title former master implied that the middle-aged man was already dead.

If he were alive, there’d be no need to shoulder anything. No reason to.

“And the death of the former Palace Master—if that is what it was—I too shall take full responsibility for it, as the one who now holds this title.”

Even that declaration was a slippery statement.

Did it mean he would be held accountable? If so, to what extent? In what way? For what, exactly?

And if that middle-aged man were alive—and if Jincheon wasn’t truly the Palace Master—then the declaration was meaningless.

Strictly speaking, Jincheon’s words carried no legal weight at all.

“But I declare this...”

Maybe all of this was just Jincheon rationalizing to himself.

Maybe he was forcing it—lying and convincing himself along the way.

Even so, he had to say it.

“This is not the place where you should die. And today is not the day you are meant to die.”

Death was no joke.

A life wasn’t something to be thrown away like this.

Especially not if it was all orchestrated for someone else’s gain.

There was no way so many people should die because of the games and deceptions of a few.

Even if it was a lie—even if it was forced—even if it was pure self-delusion—it didn’t matter.

For the sake of saying these words, Jincheon had decided to bear it all.

“So I tell you again... do not die.”

Silence followed.

Though the crowd gathered before the palace was massive, not a single person raised their head, and not one voice spoke.

Jincheon looked out at them, quietly.

He’d said what needed to be said. There was no reason to linger.

“If any among you wish to defy me, then remain where you are. But if you would follow my will—”

His voice grew solemn.

“—then rise now, and return to your places.”

Rustle.

Heads began to lift.

Some bit their lips. Others had eyes brimming with tears.

But all of them stood.

Every last one bowed deeply to Jincheon, and without a word, began to leave.

Before long, not a single soul remained on the long road stretching out from the palace.

Even the guards at the front gate had returned to their posts, and Jincheon stood before an utterly empty boulevard.

“Whew...”

He let out a long breath.

He scanned the area thoroughly, just in case someone had been left behind—but there was no one.

Still, to be sure, Jincheon turned to the maid Nanyak.

“No one’s left?”

“No.”

Her voice trembled as she answered.

“No one... remains.”

Her eyes, too, were red—but with her head bowed, Jincheon couldn’t see it.

He glanced toward the woman named Ji Yeowol of the Baekrim, who had seemed to be the gate’s commander.

Back in position, she bowed to him in silence. Her bloodshot eyes were hidden beneath her helmet.

Jincheon returned the gesture with a slight nod, then spoke to the maids.

“Let’s go now.”

At his words, Nanyak and the six other maids bowed.

“We shall escort you.”

Hm?

Their formal display of etiquette struck him as a little strange—but really, this place was full of things he didn’t understand.

So Jincheon let it go.

Rustle.

With the Seven Luminaries at his side, Jincheon began walking again.

It had gone just as he intended, but his heart wasn’t at ease.

“...Maybe I overdid it.”

Even if his intentions were good, lying to people never sat right with him.

Especially to those who had shown him such reverence.

And words carried weight. Even if he told himself I didn’t lie, the sense of responsibility still pressed down on him.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

Was he acting far beyond his place—taking on something far too big?

But...

Jincheon clenched his jaw.

“Let them die for what? For whose sake?”

It hadn’t even been two full days yet—but he’d already realized one thing while staying here.

The attack on his “client,” that man from the tavern, was not just a simple incident.

This Heavenly Flame Palace was complex, self-contained, and had far more people involved than he expected—like a closed tribal nation.

That meant the incident targeting the Palace Master was almost certainly deeply political. Complicated. Calculated.

Not just about a single man’s life—but an intricate plan, fully prepared, designed to trigger cascading consequences.

A proper scheme—just like all schemers make them.

Strategists and manipulators always plan several moves ahead, considering all variables to devise the most optimal course.

And if Jincheon did nothing now, things would play out just as they’d intended—delivering their “perfect result.”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

He didn’t know the full picture—but one thing was certain: he was an unpredictable variable in their plan.

That meant he had to do everything he could to throw off their predictions.

Even if he didn’t have the ability to uncover the mastermind behind it all—he could at least disrupt their plans.

And so Jincheon decided—he would do everything in his power. No matter what came of it later.

“Later...”

He ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) shook his head at the thought.

Well, if it doesn’t work out, so be it. If it can’t be helped, then it’s fate.

The future would deal with itself when it came.

And if it came to that—he could always use the red orb as a bargaining chip, couldn’t he?

“Let me go, and I’ll hand this over,” or something like that.

Given the reverence and awe everyone had for the orb, that just might work.

Clinging to that shaky reassurance, Jincheon kept walking.

Unaware that behind him, the eyes of all seven maids had quietly reddened.