Chapter 50
Chief Steward Seong moved silently, stepping forward before carefully brushing aside the snow gathered near the base of the cliff.
Footprints.
He examined how deeply the prints were pressed into the snow, which direction the weight had shifted, and whether the wielder had channeled their inner power through the entire sole, only the toes, or just the heel.
Everything revealed itself to his eyes.
And he was certain.
It began here.
This was where inner force had been drawn forth. The traces made it clear—it happened in the moment of shifting into a defensive stance upon encountering someone.
His fingers brushed over the gouge in the tree nearby.
The depth and angle of the wound told a story.
It was shallow, but unmistakably a sword mark.
“From high to low, then twisted rightward as the blade was withdrawn.”
Someone had clashed swords here.