After roughly establishing our course of action, Seo Mun-Hwarin and I spent several days arguing over whether I should become her adoptive son.

Even today, she had been trying her hardest to tempt me by listing the benefits of accepting her offer. But suddenly, her mood darkened.

“They’re faster than I expected.”

“If you needed the restroom, you should have gone before we set out.”

“Hey! That’s not what I meant! I was talking about the pursuers!”

“Ah. In that case, yes, they’re quicker than expected.”

Seo Mun-Hwarin pressed down hard on the back of my hand, though she refrained from pinching me outright.

I couldn’t sense anything yet, but her perception was far keener than mine—she must have picked up on something.

It was earlier than expected, but perhaps it was time to leave.

As I silently nodded to myself, Seo Mun-Hwarin’s usually composed face suddenly stiffened.

“How…?”

“Now what?”

“…We must leave at once. No—it’s already too late. Get behind me, now.”

Her words came out of nowhere.

But unlike the slightly careless demeanor she usually displayed, she now exuded the sharp presence of a true master at the Flowering Stage.

I didn’t know what was happening, but it was clear that this wasn’t the time for jokes.

And then, I felt it—a presence both familiar and utterly impossible to get used to.

“…Ah.”

My sensory perception was precise, but its range wasn’t particularly wide.

Yet, I could feel it from this far away for a simple reason.

Because they were deliberately spreading their aura across such an enormous distance.

Even among top-tier warriors, most would either suppress their presence or at least maintain a certain level of restraint.

It wasn’t just to hide their true power but also a basic courtesy to those weaker than them.

But this person was different.

Rather than concealing it, they were recklessly scattering their overwhelming, oppressive presence in every direction.

There was only one martial artist I knew who would be this desperate to flaunt their existence.

The Lord of the Black Lotus Society—Sangwan Geuk.

Also known by the moniker “Twin Tyrant Spear King”, he was a notorious tyrant who subjugated the entire Unorthodox Faction with his two spears and founded the Black Lotus Society, the first large-scale organization in unorthodox martial history.

And knowing that only made this situation even more shocking.

What the hell was he doing here?

Even if we were at the outskirts, this was still within the Nangong Clan’s territory in Anhui Province.

While I reeled in disbelief, Sangwan Geuk must have noticed that we had sensed him.

His distant presence began closing in rapidly.

The small speck visible at the horizon grew larger and larger—until it took the form of a massive middle-aged man.

Standing before me now, he looked exactly like I remembered—no, even younger and fiercer than in my last memory of him.

Well, it made sense. The last time I saw him was over a decade later in my previous life.

I hadn’t expected to encounter him so soon, and I let out a quiet sigh as I observed the uninvited guest.

He stood well over seven feet tall, his entire body packed with massive, swollen muscles.

Strapped across his back were two spears—one long, one short—and even though they remained sheathed, their sharp presence was palpable.

His sheer size alone was intimidating, but the true source of his oppressive aura lay elsewhere.

His wild, unkempt mane of hair, his thick and pointed beard, and—above all—his eyes, burning with unrestrained ambition.

A raw, blatant hunger to devour everything in his path.

That insatiable greed—that was the true essence of Sangwan Geuk.

Just standing within his line of sight felt like sticking my head into the jaws of a predator.

It had been a while since I last felt this kind of pressure.

And honestly… I’d kind of missed it.

However, Seo Mun-Hwarin seemed to mistake my stillness for being overwhelmed, and she immediately stepped in front of me.

Her stance was clear—she was shielding me from Sangwan Geuk.

A flicker of interest passed through his gaze at her reaction.

But before he could say anything, I gently pushed Seo Mun-Hwarin aside and stepped forward.

Even as his violent aura bore down on me, demanding submission, I remained composed and greeted him properly.

“I, a humble junior of the Tang Clan, greet the Lord of the Black Lotus Society. My name is Cheon Hwi-da.”

“Oh? You know of me?”

“I have never seen your face before, but… how could I fail to recognize your presence after sensing this overwhelming aura?”

“Heh. This is interesting.”

Sangwan Geuk stroked his beard, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk.

It was a playful expression, strangely at odds with the savage aura radiating from him—as if he had just found an entertaining new toy.

Seo Mun-Hwarin, clearly alarmed, jabbed at my back as if urging me to fall back.

But of all people, Sangwan Geuk was not someone to be timid around.

A warrior who walked the Path of Tyranny—one of the strongest in the Flowering Stage, even among his peers.

He was a man who followed the brutal laws of the Unorthodox Faction to the letter.

He despised the weak and revered the strong.

A person who expected those weaker than him to kneel—but also hated those who submitted too easily.

He was a twisted kind of warrior.

In my past life, after Seo Mun-Hwarin and Seol Lihyang had died, I had become infamous as the Sword Demon.

And Sangwan Geuk had liked that version of me.

Because back then, I had been utterly fearless—even toward him.

Regardless of my past life, dealing with him now required a delicate balance.

I had to show respect without being crushed beneath his authority.

After all, this was a man who exuded his oppressive aura even in his sleep, and he found amusement in those who refused to cower before him.

If I thought about it, he was completely insane.

Then again… most warriors of the Unorthodox Faction were insane.

And if that was the case, then it was only natural that the most powerful among them—Sangwan Geuk—was the most insane of all.

Predictably, he let out a booming laugh, clearly pleased.

“Hahahaha! So, the White-Haired Rakshasa kidnapped a mere brat, and I wondered what that was all about… But now I see. A young warrior already standing at the pinnacle of the Peak Stage, possessing this much presence…! I can understand why she’d want to devour you!”

“W-what nonsense are you spouting?! Devour?! What do you mean by that?!”

Seo Mun-Hwarin’s face flushed red as she shouted in protest, but Sangwan Geuk simply waved a hand dismissively, unfazed.

“Whoa, whoa. Calm down. No need to be embarrassed. This Lord of the Black Lotus Society isn’t the type to judge someone else’s tastes.”

“I already told you it’s not like that!”

“So, are you planning to fatten him up a little before devouring him?”

“You bastard…!”

Seo Mun-Hwarin’s energy surged as she stepped in front of me once again.

The two auras clashed violently.

Before my regression, Tang Sowol had told me that the Flowering Stage was a realm where a martial artist achieved complete mastery over themselves.

That was why each master exuded a unique presence.

Right now, the clashing auras of Seo Mun-Hwarin’s bloodstained past and Sangwan Geuk’s tyrannical might filled the air with suffocating intensity.

It would have been strange if the atmosphere wasn’t so lethal.

However, the standoff did not last long.

To my surprise, Sangwan Geuk stepped back, ending the confrontation.

“Let’s stop here. I didn’t come to fight.”

“Hah! Then why did you come all this way? More importantly—how did you even find me?”

“I arrived first because you were too damn slow. But someone else gave me your location. And as for why I’m here… I came to hear your answer regarding my previous proposal.”

“You mean your offer to join the Black Lotus Society? I already refused.”

“That was then. Things are different now. Don’t tell me you still don’t realize that your pathetic little dream is over?”

Seo Mun-Hwarin’s lips pressed tightly together.

I turned to her and asked,

“Senior Seo Mun-Hwarin… you know the Lord of the Black Lotus Society?”

“Don’t misunderstand. We’ve only met once before.”

“By ‘before’…?”

Before she could answer, Sangwan Geuk spoke first.

“When I was considering extending my reach from Zhejiang Province into Jiangxi Province, I recalled the rumors of the White-Haired Rakshasa and sent my men to find her.

“By the time I arrived, however, she had already undergone her rejuvenation technique.

“So I didn’t force her. I simply made an offer. I asked if she wanted to join the Black Lotus Society.”

…So that’s why Seo Mun-Hwarin immediately joined the Black Lotus Society after her identity was exposed during the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering in my past life.

And in the end, Sangwan Geuk did establish a Black Lotus Society branch in Jiangxi Province.

Though due to resistance from the Nangong Clan in Anhui and the Zhuge Clan in Hubei, he only managed to take half the region.

That much, I understood.

But that led to another question—why did he turn on Seo Mun-Hwarin after she joined?

Even after her death, he never openly insulted her, but while she was alive, he constantly kept her in check.

I had no intention of voicing my thoughts, but perhaps my expression gave me away.

Sangwan Geuk smirked.

“You look like you don’t understand something.”

“Indeed. Wouldn’t having another Flowering Stage master in the Black Lotus Society be an asset?”

“It would. But because she wasn’t the kind of Rakshasa I expected, it would also be inconvenient.”

“Then—”

“But even so, the Black Lotus Society must be able to accommodate her.

“That’s the reason I created the Black Lotus Society in the first place.

“Even if I were to stick her in some insignificant position, I need to at least put on the appearance of accepting her. Otherwise, the fools who follow me wouldn’t trust me.”

“…So you never actually planned to make her a real part of the organization. It was just for show.”

“Correct. But that doesn’t mean it’s a bad deal for the White-Haired Rakshasa either, does it?”

Seo Mun-Hwarin sighed and nodded.

“Since my identity has already been exposed, all I need now is a quiet place to live.

“I have no interest in power struggles, so if the Black Lotus Society can act as my shield, I don’t see why I should refuse.”

“But—!”

“Exactly. This is essentially the same thing that Cheon Hwi-da proposed to me.”

“What?”

Sangwan Geuk’s face, which had been relatively amicable despite his overwhelming presence, twisted into a deep scowl.

Then, suddenly—an unbearable pressure wrapped around my throat.

“Are you trying to interfere with my plans? Don’t think that just because you’re in Orthodox territory, or because you belong to the Tang Clan, that you’re safe. I wouldn’t count on that.”

It was a death-laced threat.

Any ordinary warrior—even a top-tier martial artist—would have instinctively recoiled.

Not because of weak resolve, but because their body would refuse to move in the face of such an overwhelming gap in strength.

But I was someone far too familiar with killing intent.

Would it be a lie to say it wasn’t burdensome? Yes.

But was it enough to make me bow my head? No.

I looked up at Sangwan Geuk and responded in a calm voice.

“Neither I nor you have the right to decide where Senior Seo Mun-Hwarin goes. She decides that herself. Isn’t that right?”

“That is correct.”

Seo Mun-Hwarin nodded and gathered her own aura to shield me.

Then, she narrowed her eyes at Sangwan Geuk and added a subtle edge of killing intent to her voice.

“He is my hostage. I would appreciate it if you didn’t touch him without my permission.”

“Hah.”

Sangwan Geuk let out a dry chuckle before finally withdrawing his murderous aura.

He shrugged, his usual smirk returning.

“There really is something going on here, huh? All I did was poke the kid a little, and you’re already baring your fangs at me twice. Well, like I said, I didn’t come here to fight.”

“Then let me give you my answer one more time—I will not join the Black Lotus Society. Now, get lost and return to Zhejiang.”

“Heh. You must be mistaken if you think I came back just to offer again.”

Sangwan Geuk raised his thumb and gestured behind him.

Because of the overwhelming pressure of his aura, I hadn’t even noticed.

But now, I saw them—dozens of warriors clad in black robes standing in formation behind him.

The ones he had left behind earlier for being too slow.

Each of them wore swords at their waists, and on their sleeves, the embroidered characters—”Black Sky”—stood out clearly.

Every single one of them was at least first-rate, with a few even having reached the Peak Stage.

But their strength didn’t matter to me.

What mattered was…I recognized their faces.

A visceral rage surged up inside me.

I could never forget them.

Because in my past life, they were the ones who…

Took the lives of Seol Lihyang and Seo Mun-Hwarin.

“Black Sky Sword Sect…”

I clenched my fists, barely containing my fury.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep