Night had already fallen over the imperial palace.

The once-bright halls now rested beneath silence, broken only by the faint sound of temple bells echoing from distant courtyards.

Inside the Dowager Empress’s chamber, the atmosphere was dim and solemn.

Golden incense smoke curled slowly upward before a large Buddha statue.

The scent of sandalwood filled the room.

Soft chanting echoed quietly.

—

The Dowager Empress knelt before the altar.

Her fingers moved slowly across the prayer beads in her hand.

Her lips murmured ancient Buddhist scriptures under her breath.

Steady.

Repetitive.

As if trying to calm a storm inside her heart.

—

Since the death of the late Emperor—

This had become her routine.

Prayer.

Silence.

Isolation.

—

She had once ruled the inner palace beside the most powerful man in the empire.

Now—

Only memories remained.

—

The candlelight flickered softly across her face.

Age had not taken away her beauty completely.

But grief had changed her.

Made her quieter.

Harder.

Lonelier.

—

Her gaze slowly lifted toward the incense smoke.

And as always—

Her thoughts drifted back to him.

—

The late Emperor.

Her husband.

—

A man the entire kingdom admired.

A ruler who expanded roads, strengthened trade, and connected distant regions to the capital.

Especially—

The North.

—

The Dowager closed her eyes slowly.

"...You never listened to anyone."

A faint smile touched her lips briefly.

Sad.

Soft.

—

He had always been like that.

Fearless.

Stubborn.

Determined to unite every region beneath one banner.

Even when ministers opposed him.

Even when nobles warned him.

He still went personally to the northern territories.

Again and again.

—

And that—

Was where everything began.

—

The Dowager’s fingers tightened around the beads.

Her expression darkened slightly.

—

The North.

—

A region filled with harsh mountains and fierce people.

Beautiful.

But dangerous.

—

That was where he met her.

—

The woman from the North.

—

The Dowager still remembered the day she appeared in the capital.

Pregnant.

Crying.

Demanding justice.

Claiming the Emperor had taken advantage of her.

—

The entire palace had shaken with scandal.

—

But the truth—

Was far uglier.

—

The late Emperor had confessed everything to her personally.

Without hiding.

Without excuses.

—

"He drugged me."

Those had been his exact words.

His voice filled with disgust.

With anger.

With shame.

—

The northern woman had used forbidden herbs.

A powerful intoxicant.

Strong enough to affect even trained men.

—

The Dowager still remembered his face that night.

He looked furious.

Not because of scandal.

But because he felt betrayed.

Violated.

—

And still—

He did not kill her immediately.

—

Because the North was unstable at that time.

Rebellions were spreading.

The nobles there already disliked the central court.

—

So he returned to the capital first.

Hoping the matter would fade quietly.

Hoping the woman would stay away.

—

But she didn’t.

—

Instead—

She came to the palace herself.

Pregnant.

Demanding status.

Demanding position.

Demanding him.

—

The Dowager’s expression turned colder.

—

Even then—

He had warned her.

Clearly.

Cruelly.

—

"I love only my wife."

"My children."

"You mean nothing."

—

The Dowager remembered those words perfectly.

Because he spoke them before her.

Without hesitation.

—

But the woman refused to stop.

Again and again she caused disturbance.

Again and again she spread rumors.

—

And eventually—

The late Emperor made his decision.

—

The punishment was brutal.

Merciless.

—

Buried alive.

With the unborn child still inside her womb.

—

The Dowager closed her eyes tightly.

Even now—

Years later—

The memory still haunted her.

—

At the time—

No one questioned the punishment.

Using drugs to force the Emperor was considered treason.

The law itself demanded death.

—

And after that—

The kingdom became stricter.

No man or woman dared use such methods again.

—

But...

—

The Dowager slowly opened her eyes.

Fear flickered deep within them.

—

Because after that incident—

Everything began changing.

—

The late Emperor’s health deteriorated.

Slowly at first.

Then rapidly.

—

No healer could explain it.

No medicine worked.

—

Within three years—

The strongest ruler of the empire became weak.

Thin.

Exhausted.

—

Then—

Two years later—

He died.

—

The Dowager’s breathing became uneven.

Even now—

She still remembered holding his hand during his final moments.

Remembered his cold skin.

His fading breath.

—

And beside his deathbed—

Their eldest son.

Still young.

Still barely prepared.

Forced to inherit the throne.

—

The Dowager’s fingers trembled slightly.

"...I protected them..."

She whispered softly.

"...I tried..."

—

But now—

Everything happening in the kingdom—

The strange incidents.

The unnatural strength.

The dark whispers.

The sleeping spells.

The attacks.

—

All of it—

Pointed north.

—

Her chest tightened.

—

"...Could it be revenge..."

—

The thought terrified her.

—

What if the North never forgot?

What if someone connected to that woman survived?

What if—

She herself had never truly died peacefully?

—

The candle flame flickered violently for a moment.

The Dowager froze.

A cold breeze passed through the chamber.

Even though the windows were closed.

—

Her heartbeat quickened.

—

"...Buddha protect us..."

—

She clasped her prayer beads tighter.

Her chanting became faster now.

More desperate.

—

She was not afraid for herself.

Not anymore.

—

She feared for her children.

For the Emperor.

For Princess Zhi.

For the kingdom itself.

—

Because if the darkness truly came from the North—

Then this was no ordinary political scheme.

—

It was hatred.

Old hatred.

Buried hatred.

—

And hatred that survives for decades—

Becomes something terrifying.

—

The Dowager bowed deeply before the Buddha statue.

Her forehead touching the floor.

—

"Please..."

Her voice trembled softly.

"...Protect this kingdom."

"...Protect my son."

"...Protect my children."

—

Outside—

The palace remained silent beneath the night sky.

But somewhere in that silence—

The past had begun moving again.

And the shadows of the North—

Were slowly returning.

The palace was silent beneath the deep midnight sky.

Cold moonlight spilled across the roofs of the imperial palace, turning the world pale silver.

Inside the Dowager Empress’s chamber, incense had long burned out.

The prayer beads she had held earlier now rested beside the Buddha altar.

The chamber was quiet.

But her sleep—

Was not peaceful.

—

On the bed, the Dowager Empress frowned slightly in her sleep.

Her breathing uneven.

Restless.

As if trapped somewhere between memory and nightmare.

—

And slowly—

The dream began.

—

At first—

It was warm.

Bright.

Peaceful.

—

She stood inside the imperial garden many years ago.

The plum blossoms were blooming.

The air smelled sweet.

Soft laughter echoed nearby.

—

Then she saw them.

—

Her husband.

The late Emperor.

Young again.

Alive again.

—

He stood beneath the flowering trees, dressed in black imperial robes, looking exactly as he had in his prime.

Tall.

Confident.

Smiling.

—

Beside him were their two sons.

One still young and serious.

The other lively and playful.

—

The sight hit her heart painfully.

—

"...Your Majesty..."

Her voice trembled softly.

—

The late Emperor turned.

And smiled warmly.

The same smile she had once loved more than anything.

—

"You’re here."

—

Tears immediately filled her eyes.

—

For a moment—

She forgot everything.

The palace.

The death.

The loneliness.

—

She walked toward them slowly.

Almost afraid the dream would break.

—

Their eldest son ran forward first.

"Mother!"

—

Then the younger one followed.

Laughing.

Holding plum blossoms in his hands.

—

The Dowager hugged them tightly.

Her heart aching.

—

This...

This was what she missed.

—

Not power.

Not status.

—

Just this.

Family.

Warmth.

Peace.

—

The late Emperor stepped closer and placed his hand gently on her shoulder.

"You worry too much."

His voice was calm.

Familiar.

Safe.

—

She looked at him with trembling eyes.

"...I couldn’t protect you."

—

He sighed softly.

"It was never your fault."

—

The garden breeze passed gently around them.

For the first time in years—

The Dowager felt calm.

Truly calm.

—

Then—

The wind changed.

—

The warmth disappeared.

—

The flowers stopped moving.

The sky darkened unnaturally.

—

The late Emperor’s expression changed instantly.

Cold.

Alert.

—

And then—

A voice echoed through the garden.

Soft.

Female.

Laughing.

—

The Dowager froze.

Because she recognized that voice.

—

Slowly—

A figure appeared between the trees.

A woman dressed in northern clothing.

Long dark hair.

Pale skin.

Eyes filled with hatred.

—

And beneath her clothes—

A swollen stomach.

Pregnant.

—

The Dowager’s entire body went cold.

—

"...You."

—

The woman smiled slowly.

But there was nothing human in that smile.

Only resentment.

Only madness.

—

"You remember me."

—

The late Emperor stepped in front of the Dowager immediately.

His expression dark.

"You should not exist here."

—

The woman laughed softly.

A broken sound.

—

"Should not exist?"

Her eyes turned red slowly.

"You buried me alive."

—

The garden darkened further.

The flowers around them began withering.

Blackening.

Dying.

—

The Dowager stepped back instinctively.

Her breathing uneven.

—

The woman tilted her head slowly.

"You took everything from me."

—

The late Emperor’s voice hardened.

"You poisoned me."

"You used forbidden drugs."

"You brought this punishment upon yourself."

—

The woman’s smile vanished instantly.

—

"And you killed my child."

—

Her voice echoed unnaturally through the garden.

—

Suddenly—

The ground beneath them cracked.

Dark shadows spread across the once-beautiful garden.

—

The younger prince disappeared first.

Like smoke.

Gone.

—

The Dowager gasped.

"No—!"

—

Then the elder prince began fading too.

—

"Mother..."

His voice sounded distant now.

Weak.

—

The Dowager rushed toward him.

But her hands passed through him.

—

"No!"

—

The woman laughed again.

Cold.

Cruel.

—

"You protected your sons."

"So now..."

Her eyes twisted with hatred.

"...watch me destroy them instead."

—

The Dowager’s heart pounded violently.

"What do you want?!"

—

The woman stepped closer slowly.

Too close.

Her face pale and terrifying.

—

"I will make this kingdom rot."

—

Her voice dropped into a whisper.

"I will make the people hate your sons."

"I will make them fear them."

"Curse them."

"Turn against them."

—

The shadows around the garden grew darker.

—

The late Emperor tried to move forward—

But black chains suddenly wrapped around him.

Dragging him backward.

—

The Dowager screamed.

"Your Majesty!"

—

The woman’s expression became twisted.

"You lived happily while I screamed beneath the earth."

"You held your children while mine died in darkness."

—

The shadows began swallowing the palace garden completely.

The plum blossoms turned black.

Blood dripped from the branches.

—

The woman pointed slowly toward the distance.

And suddenly—

The Dowager saw visions.

—

The palace burning.

People screaming.

Her sons covered in blood.

The empire collapsing.

Citizens cursing the royal family.

—

Then—

The Emperor.

Her eldest son.

Standing alone on the throne.

Everyone turning away from him.

Despising him.

—

Then Princess Zhi crying.

Then the Empress drowning.

Then shadows swallowing the capital.

—

The Dowager shook violently.

"No..."

"No..."

—

The woman smiled.

"I told you."

"I will make their lives hell."

—

The late Emperor struggled against the chains.

"Enough!"

His voice thundered.

—

For a brief moment—

The shadows trembled.

—

The woman’s face twisted with fury.

"You think death ended this?!"

"It only began!"

—

Suddenly—

She lunged forward.

Straight toward the Dowager.

—

The Dowager screamed.

—

And woke up.

—

Her eyes flew open.

Her entire body drenched in sweat.

Her breathing wild.

Uneven.

—

The chamber was dark.

Silent.

Still.

—

But her heart continued pounding violently.

—

Outside—

Thunder echoed faintly in the distance.

Even though the sky had been clear earlier.

—

The Dowager immediately sat up.

Her hands trembling.

—

"...It was just a dream..."

She whispered.

But deep inside—

She knew.

It didn’t feel like a dream.

—

The fear remained too real.

The voice too clear.

—

The woman’s hatred—

Still echoed in her ears.

—

"I will make everyone hate your sons..."

—

The Dowager clutched her prayer beads tightly.

Her fingers shaking.

—

For the first time in many years—

True fear entered her heart.

—

Because now—

She could no longer tell whether the darkness haunting the kingdom—

Was human.

Or something far worse.