Cling.

A clear bell sound, utterly pure despite the ominous aura it carried.

The moment they registered it, Tang Sowol, Seol Lihyang, and Seo Mun-Hwarin’s minds began to fall, stained by something dark.

It felt like being sucked into something. While Tang Sowol had experienced this once before, the other two, unfamiliar with it, began flailing in confusion.

As the three continued falling through a black tunnel, the two waved their limbs in panic. Seeing this, Tang Sowol nodded, seemingly relieved.

So even if we’re separated and see different visions, nothing goes wrong. That’s a relief.

Of course, whether she was reassured or not didn’t matter much to the two currently falling in real time.

Watching the two instinctively draw up their inner energy, Tang Sowol gave a wry smile and waved her hand.

“This is how it’s supposed to be, so don’t worry. And Hwarin unni, if you draw up your willpower too, you’ll end up resisting the great art that was laid out for us, so please endure it a bit longer.”

“W-What do you mean this is how it’s supposed to be, Sister Tang?!”

“Mmm? I ended up doing it before I knew it.”

Only after confirming Seo Mun-Hwarin awkwardly retracted her willpower did Tang Sowol speak again.

“Yes. It seems a bit faster than before, but it’s more or less the same. In that case, it should be ending soon.”

Just as Tang Sowol said that, a white landscape shimmered at their toes. Blinded for a moment, the three closed and opened their eyes.

Before they realized it, the scenery around them had completely changed.

Gone was the narrow, suffocating black tunnel, replaced by a wide-open field of white.

Snow piled gently atop slightly worn buildings. From a bird’s-eye view above the sky, the unfamiliar perspective sparkled in Seol Lihyang’s eyes.

“Wow. It’s beautiful.”

“Looks like it snowed quite a lot. But how do we land??”

“Ah, don’t worry. The closer we get to the ground, the slower we’ll move on our own.”

Tang Sowol reassured Seo Mun-Hwarin, but the more she looked around, the more serious her gaze became.

This place feels… familiar…

That strange sense of déjà vu only lasted a moment. Suddenly, it felt like she was resisting a fall into water.

At the same time, the once lifeless white scenery began to breathe.

Icicles formed beneath eaves as the snow slowly melted. From time to time, snow that could no longer bear its weight slid off the rooftops. And although few in number, some servants were now visible, struggling to clear the snow.

A sudden sense that the density of the world had increased. Seol Lihyang and Seo Mun-Hwarin widened their eyes in awe.

It was only then that Tang Sowol realized the source of her discomfort.

“This is… the Black Lotus Sect.”

Her feet stepped on the snow-covered ground, but no footprints were left behind, as if her legs simply passed through the snow.

Seo Mun-Hwarin, curious, took a few steps as if testing it, then tilted her head.

“Mmm? What do you mean by that? Most of the Black Lotus Sect’s buildings were newly constructed and decorated so extravagantly they sparkled no matter where you looked.”

“Yes, that’s true. But no matter how I look at it, the structure of the buildings is exactly like those of the Black Lotus Sect. Do you remember the banquet hall where the Heavenly Demon appeared?”

“Ah! Now that you mention it, Sister Tang, the layout from above did feel familiar!”

Seol Lihyang quickly nodded in agreement as she recalled the memory. On the other hand, Seo Mun-Hwarin pondered for a long while before finally speaking.

“The structure is certainly similar. However, when you look closely, it’s clearly strange. Look over there.”

Seo Mun-Hwarin pointed toward the nearby wall.

Not only was it cracked in places, but toward the edges, it was half-collapsed, exposing the interior.

Signs of abandonment that could only be found in homes left untouched for many years.

“I’m sure the banquet was held in the most recently built building. But this one clearly bears the marks of time. A structure this large would be better sold off than left neglected…”

“Couldn’t it be from a different time period? After all, this is Cheon Hwi-da’s Heartscape, right? It’s supposed to show his most vivid memories, so of course it’d be from a moment in the past. Maybe this place was once run-down like this, and the Black Lotus Sect only rebuilt it recently.”

“Hm. That does make sense. Then, it would mean Hwi had a connection to the Black Lotus Sect since childhood. Somehow… it suits him too well.”

A small laugh followed Seo Mun-Hwarin’s comment, the corners of her mouth twitching.

It was quite a wild guess, but for those who couldn’t imagine that time might literally rewind, it was the most reasonable explanation.

With that, the three confirmed their surroundings and speculated on the timeline, then began to move slowly.

Unlike the last time Tang Sowol had entered Cheon Hwi-da’s Heartscape, there was almost no interaction possible with the memory.

Of course—it was because their goal this time wasn’t to awaken Cheon Hwi-da and pull him out, but to quietly observe his memories.

In exchange for giving up interaction, they had been told the time they could remain was greatly extended. With that, the three began walking down the path at a leisurely pace.

The surroundings were unmanaged, with the buildings half in ruins, casting a desolate air.

However, as they walked, they eventually came across a somewhat maintained path. And then, people.

They were certainly seeing them with their own eyes, but the figures’ features were blurred, as if shrouded in fog.

Still, from the clothing and their struggle to clear snow, it wasn’t hard to guess they were servants.

Seo Mun-Hwarin, who had been silently observing, finally spoke.

“Indeed. I have a hunch.”

“What is it?”

“If a once-glorious family had fallen into ruin for some reason, and now simply awaited their demise, wouldn’t this be the kind of atmosphere you’d expect?”

“That’s…”

“It’s true. It’s the same reason I left behind the ruined Seo Mun Clan to wander, and the fate that befell the enemies who lost their patriarch and headmaster to my revenge.”

As Seo Mun-Hwarin connected her theory to her own experience, Seol Lihyang’s eyes widened.

“Then according to you, Sister Seo Mun, Cheon Hwi-da might be from a once-famous noble family??”

“Perhaps. His swordsmanship, as he says himself, is a mix of techniques refined from various sources. But his inner art—how does it seem to you? To me, it feels crude and violent, but like a fully-formed technique from the very beginning.”

“Indeed, even when he kidnapped me at age fifteen, he was using the same inner art. It was so saturated with killing intent, I remember it vividly.”

“Then the picture becomes clearer. Hwi must have been born into a prestigious sect of the Unorthodox Faction… and after some incident, fled to a small rural village.”

“I remember seeing it in the Tang Clan’s investigation report. It said his parents were foreigners.”

“Then… was it the Demonic Cult that annihilated his family?”

The three women gradually pieced together the mystery of Cheon Hwi-da’s origin (which does not exist).

But that didn’t last long. Before they knew it, Cheon Hwi-da appeared before them.

“…Huh?”

“Hmm?”

“This is…”

Was it because he was the owner of the Heartscape? Or was it because the mental restriction didn’t apply this far?

Unlike the blurred figures of everyone else, Cheon Hwi-da’s face could be clearly seen.

However, it was completely different from the Cheon Hwi-da they knew—or had imagined.

Instead of a small, cute baby version they had expected, the Cheon Hwi-da that appeared was older than the current one.

His black hair was loosely grown out and hung down, his black eyes clouded with gloom, but within them burned intense longing.

The aura around him was sharp, but closer to fangs than blades, rough and wild.

He carried the savage energy of a hungry wolf, a man that evoked the image of a typical Unorthodox martial artist.

The women, thrown off by this familiar yet unfamiliar figure, were plunged into confusion.

“Is that Cheon Hwi-da’s father?”

“Maybe… it’s his older brother?”

Trying to rationalize the scene that contradicted all their earlier theories, Seol Lihyang and Seo Mun-Hwarin searched for reasons they could understand.

But Tang Sowol was different.

“No. That is Cheon Hwi-da.”

Her voice was full of certainty despite the confusion.

When the others stared at her silently, urging her to explain, Tang Sowol calmly began listing the reasons.

“First, his gait is exactly the same. His center of gravity is stable, but subtly leaning forward, as if ready to pounce at any moment.”

“W-Wait, that’s true! But that’s because of Thunderclap Steps. Hwi said he learned it from the only surviving member of the Seo Mun Clan besides you…”

“And look at the angle of the sword sheath on his waist. Cheon Hwi-da always tilts it slightly toward himself so he can draw and strike in one motion.”

“I’ve heard that before. He doesn’t use set techniques, so it’s more important for him to swing first than to take a stance.”

“And there’s more. Look at his eyebrows. When he’s dissatisfied, he always frowns at that exact angle. It’s not a face he shows us often, but it’s common when he’s facing others.”

“…..?”

“Also, though he seems slightly shorter than he is now, and his muscles are well-trained but not systematically, the shape of his shoulder muscles is identical to Cheon Hwi-da’s. That kind of development is usually seen in people who swing the sword the same way… and he did say he had neither teacher nor disciple.”

As Tang Sowol’s analysis dragged on, Seol Lihyang and Seo Mun-Hwarin’s expressions stiffened.

They looked as if they couldn’t understand why she’d remember things like his muscle structure.

“Most of all, that gaze. That calculating look that sizes up everything in sight—isn’t that the gaze that judges whether he can cut it down or not? There’s no one else so obsessed with the sword who meets all these criteria.”

“Ah… yes.”

“I-Is that so……?”

Seol Lihyang and Seo Mun-Hwarin answered half-heartedly, but they too had been by Cheon Hwi-da’s side for a long time.

They had no choice but to admit Tang Sowol was right. And naturally, a question arose.

If all their logical guesses were wrong, and if the man in front of them really was Cheon Hwi-da—

Then what was going on?

Why did he seem older than the current Cheon Hwi-da, yet less physically developed, and at a lower cultivation level?

Why was he still Cheon Hwi-da?

Countless questions tangled together, collapsing every theory they had.

And what they were left with was a certainty—there was a secret far beyond what they could imagine.

The three women readied themselves to accept a conclusion beyond reason.

And then, watching the young man hand a pear to a limping woman, then enter a room with her and begin taking off his clothes—

They promptly took back their resolve.

“Wh-What is this?! I can’t accept this…!”

“Cheon Hwi?! Who is this woman? She looks familiar but seriously, who is she?!”

“What does the pear mean?! Is that some modern slang only young people use these days that I don’t know about?!”

Though they stamped their feet, not one of them turned away or left.

It was winter.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep