The heavy scent of incense filled the air as the group approached the towering gates of Jinyowon. Cho-Yeon's eyes flickered with purpose, yet her smile betrayed the subtle unease she couldn't quite shake off.

The Crown Prince, who had insisted on accompanying them, stood beside Seo Yul and Uk, Hae-rin and Dang-Gu trailing behind them.

"This is where the dangerous relics are kept?" The Crown Prince asked, his voice low, almost challenging.

Seo Yul gave a curt nod.

"Jinyowon is filled with artifacts from every corner of the world, relics that hold immense power. Many are unpredictable, dangerous even."

Despite the gravity of his words, the Crown Prince remained unfazed.

"Then let's go inside."

The door creaked open with a groan of ancient wood, and the trio stepped into the vast halls of Jinyowon, while others wait outside their footsteps echoing on the stone floor. Everywhere they looked, artifacts of unknown origin lined the walls.

As they ventured deeper into the halls, the oppressive air seemed to thicken, and Seo Yul's sharp gaze flicked between the relics, ever vigilant.

Mu-Deok. The name pulsed in the back of his mind like a distant, persistent echo. Why now? he wondered. The illusions that plagued his thoughts seemed more insistent the closer they got to the heart of Jinyowon.

They passed through a dark corridor, the eerie silence broken only by the distant rustle of something unseen. The Crown Prince seemed increasingly unnerved, but his resolve never wavered. He glanced sideways at Seo Yul, who remained stoic.

"Mu-Deok... She's inside, isn't she?" The Crown Prince asked.

Seo Yul's jaw tightened. "She is."

But as they delved further, they realized that it wasn't just the mysteries of Jinyowon that had them uneasy. It was the oppressive, intangible presence that hung in the air.

Mu-Deok had been trapped somewhere within, and they could feel it—her illusionary form lingering in the mirrors that adorned the hallways.

It wasn't just her presence that terrified them. It was the mirrors.

Each one seemed to whisper, reflecting distorted versions of their thoughts and desires, pulling at the very core of their being. They grew more wary with every step.

But then, just as the hour came to an end, the trio realized the connection. It all led back to the mirror—the very one Mu-Deok had been trapped in.

They had been inside Jinyowon for longer than intended, but now it was time to return, and yet the answers remained elusive.

Outside, Dang-Gu and Hae-rin stood with Cho-Yeon, the quiet murmur of the winds the only sound between them. His eyes were narrowed as he focused, listening closely.

"You hear that?" Dang-Gu asked, his voice low, almost lost in the soft rustling of the trees, Hae-rin nodded.

Cho-Yeon's gaze was sharp, focused on something far beyond him, as though she were scanning the distance. She interrupted them.

"It's nothing," she said, offering them a small, reassuring smile.

"The wind, perhaps."

But Dang-Gu's attention remained fixed on the faint, rhythmic clinking sound, like the soft chime of jade.

It wasn't long before Cho-Yeon's hand moved subconsciously to the small sachet tucked within her robes. Her fingers brushed over the stone inside, the jade piece that had caused more trouble than she'd anticipated.

When the others emerged from Jinyowon, their faces were somber, eyes shadowed with something unspoken.

"We need to talk," Hae-rin said as she approached Cho-Yeon. Her gaze flicked toward the bag at her waist.

Cho-Yeon looked at her, feigning innocence, but the slight shift in her posture didn't escape her.

"What is it?" she asked, voice carefully neutral.

Hae-rin took a step closer, her eyes never leaving the stone hidden within her sachet.

"What have you done, Cho-Yeon?"

A tense silence stretched between them. The Crown Prince stepped forward, his expression grim.

"What does this mean?" he demanded.

Without a word, Cho-Yeon reached into her bag and pulled out the jades surface gleaming in the dim light. It had been hidden all this time, and yet now, it felt almost as though the truth had been forced out into the open.

Seo Yul's gaze hardened as he recognized the artifact. "The Jades," he muttered under his breath.

"So it was you..."

"Mu-Deok isn't responsible for all of this," Cho-Yeon's voice was steady, but there was a quiet desperation buried underneath the surface.

"I found the jade stone. She's been trapped inside for far too long. I had to do something."

Seo Yul's frown deepened, but before he could voice his concern, Cho-Yeon turned to face her mother, who had been watching the scene unfold from a distance.

"Mu-Deok's actions were her own. This... was never meant to be solved by her."

Jang-Uk stood before the Mirror of Longing still inside, its reflective surface mocking him with every passing second. The whispers from the mirror, sharp and taunting, only made him more resolute.

The voices that echoed tempted him with doubts and fears, each word drawing him closer to frustration. But he refused to give in.

With a determined breath, Jang-Uk took a step forward, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. The mirror was no ordinary relic—its power lay in its ability to show not just images, but the very essence of a person's deepest thoughts.

And now, it was showing him the one person he longed to see most: Mu-Deok.

But it wasn't just her reflection; it was a trap, one that played with his emotions, manipulating them like a puppet on strings.

"Enough," he muttered, his resolve firming.

In a swift movement, Jang-Uk grabbed a large cloth from the nearby table and threw it over the mirror, covering it completely. The mirror's mocking whispers ceased immediately, leaving only the oppressive silence in its wake. Without the reflection to feed off, the mirror fell dormant.

And in that silence, a quiet magic rippled through the air. Jang-Uk's eyes softened as he felt a familiar warmth, a pull that connected him to the other side.

He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he extended it toward the cloth-covered mirror. He spoke softly, as though Mu-Deok were right there, just beyond the veil.

"I miss you," he confessed, his voice cracking with vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show.

" I've missed you since the moment we first met."

For a brief moment, there was no response, just the hum of magic in the air. But then, a soft warmth surged from the other side, and Jang-Uk's heart skipped a beat. The connection was stronger than ever before, as if Mu-Deok could feel his words.

On the other side, Mu-Deok's hand appeared, reaching out to touch the magical field between them. The barrier between them quivered as their hands made contact, and for a fleeting moment, they were connected—spirit to spirit, heart to heart.

Suddenly, the mirror's surface cracked with a loud, resounding shatter, and the magic that had held Mu-Deok captive in the reflection dissipated. She fell into Jang-Uk's arms as the shattered pieces of the mirror rained down around them.

"Mu-Deok," Jang-Uk breathed in relief, his heart pounding in his chest as he cradled her, the weight of everything that had happened finally lifting. Without hesitation, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her out of the room.

Outside, Park-Jin stood waiting, his expression stern as he watched Jang-Uk emerge with Mu-Deok in his arms. The tension that had hung heavy in the air seemed to ease, if only slightly, as the immediate crisis was resolved. The mirror's influence had been broken, but the ripples it left behind would take longer to settle.

As they made their way outside, Cho-Yeon stood in the courtyard, her head bowed in guilt. Her eyes were red, and her posture was one of someone who had just come to terms with the weight of her actions.

When she saw Jang-Uk and Mu-Deok, her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the ground, her hands shaking as she reached for the stone beneath her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice filled with deep remorse.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Jang-Uk paused for a moment, his eyes briefly meeting Cho-Yeon's. There was no anger in his gaze, only a quiet understanding, though the disappointment lingered in the air. He said nothing, choosing instead to walk past her, his focus on Mu-Deok.

But just as he was about to pass, he felt a soft presence behind him—Hae-Rin.

She had been standing a few steps away, watching the scene unfold. Her heart tightened as she saw Cho-Yeon kneel in regret, but it was not the remorseful apology that caught her attention. It was the sense of betrayal she couldn't shake, the sadness that mirrored the hurt she felt for her friend.

Hae-Rin's gaze flicked briefly to Seo Yul, who stood silently nearby, his expression unreadable. Then, she turned back to Cho-Yeon. The weight of disappointment hung in the air between them, unspoken but undeniable.

It wasn't the betrayal of their shared friendship, but the way Cho-Yeon had put everything at risk for the sake of her own ambitions, even if she hadn't fully realized the consequences. Hae-Rin could feel the distance growing between them, a rift that seemed impossible to bridge.

Cho-Yeon's voice broke through the silence again, barely a whisper now.

"Please, forgive me."

As the moments passed, Cho-Yeon stayed kneeling, her tears hidden beneath the mask of regret. Hae-Rin's eyes lingered on her friend, but the sadness in her heart wasn't something she could easily cast aside.

She had been there for Cho-Yeon, always, but today, there was a chasm between them that neither words nor time could erase.