“Bring Sim Munryong from Jeogan.”

“He’s one of the Twelve Orders. Should I summon all his subordinates as well?”

Unhwi shook his head.

“Tell him to come alone.”

“Understood, Young Lord.”

Commander Seong immediately dashed off to the rear, and Unhwi slowly rose to his feet.

The two men approaching from the opposite side naturally came to a stop before him. Unhwi looked at No Cheonmyeong and smiled faintly.

“You’re late, Senior No.”

“Haha… That mouth of yours. Yes, I’m late. There was too much to internalize.”

“Forgive the abrupt request, but I’ll need your strength.”

No Cheonmyeong’s smile remained unchanged.

“Didn’t I tell you before? That by releasing me from the grudge of my life, you became my benefactor. Whatever you ask of me—I will do it.”

“Thank you, Senior.”

***

Under the pale moonlight deep within Moonfall Gorge, several men and women had gathered inside a small hermitage.

Among them was a man standing with arms crossed and eyes closed—Hyeol Unam, Lord of the Fifth Blood-Spirit Division of the main Blood Sect.

The Blood Sect’s elite military force was the Blood-Spirit Corps.

It consisted of ten divisions in total—First Blood-Spirit Division, Second, and so on.

The Fifth Division stood roughly in the middle. Hyeol Unam, the man who led it, was someone far above this setting.

He was a master at the Heaven-Man Embodiment stage, infamous for his chilling title—Blood Rain Sword Demon. A monster among monsters.

Draped in a dark red robe, he opened his eyes silently.

Thirteen others were gathered with him.

Three were subordinates of the Fifth Division, all masters at the Ipshin Stage.

Among the ten poison masters, one was at Harmonization Stage, and the remaining nine at Simulated Death Stage. Even that was a fearsome force.

Hyeol Unam’s brow furrowed faintly.

The appointed time had passed. Why was it still so quiet?

And then—he heard something. Something that grazed his senses.

“A guest.”

The moment those words fell, all of the Blood Sect and Viper Valley warriors drew their weapons in unison.

A man was walking slowly along the gorge.

In the moonlight, his appearance struck hard.

Ash-gray hair swayed in the wind. His sculpted features exuded both coldness and grace.

But above all—at his waist hung a sword so absurdly long its tip dragged across the ground.

The Heavenshaking Spiritblade.

One of the Ten Legendary Swords of the World. There was no way Hyeol Unam wouldn’t recognize it.

“…I didn’t think I’d actually see it.”

The man came to a halt about twenty paces from Hyeol Unam.

Hyeol Unam asked, “Lost your way?”

A dry smirk played on Unhwi’s lips.

Hearing the same line he so often used on others didn’t feel so bad.

“Moonfall Gorge is under my jurisdiction now. Why would I be lost?”

Hyeol Unam’s eyes narrowed.

“Your tone is lacking. Even if you are the Regional Commander of Yangryeong, you’re nothing but a brat to me.”

Unhwi chuckled softly.

“A true martial artist… must always see a matter through to its end.”

“…”

“The stone the Blood Sect threw caused ripples. Don’t you think it’s only right to witness the wave it returns with?”

“…What happened to Yi Myeonghwa?”

“She’s dead.”

“Who killed her?”

“I did.”

“…You killed her knowing she was a disciple of Thousand Serpent Yin from Viper Valley?”

“You think I didn’t know?”

“…You’re insane.”

“No—you are.”

Unhwi’s eyes flashed.

“You planted poisoners in Snow Mountain to create the Frostbite Corrosion Poison, and that Yi Myeonghwa bastard infiltrated my side and even poisoned my people.”

“…”

“There’s a limit to madness. And you’ve long since crossed it.”

“…It seems you still don’t understand the situation. Are you saying Snow Palace dares to provoke the main Blood Sect?”

Viper Valley was a branch of the main Blood Sect.

But “branch” was just semantics. In truth, they were one and the same.

Those who specialized in poison within the Blood Sect? They were assigned to Viper Valley.

Blood Sect or Viper Valley—it made no difference. They were the same body.

“Let me correct something.”

“…Correct?”

“It’s not Snow Palace challenging you. I, Seol Unhwi, am.”

“You think you can separate the two?”

“Whether it can or not is irrelevant. It’s still the truth.”

“…”

“And when settling grievances, relying on strength alone… is the path of fools.”

Hyeol Unam’s gaze darkened. The other blood warriors and poisoners followed suit.

“What matters is the will to act. This is the martial world, and you are martial artists, are you not?”

“…”

“Even the Heavenly Founder would have taught as much. Yet here you are, having reached Heaven-Man Embodiment, thinking like a child.”

When Unhwi uttered the name of the supreme master of the Blood Sect—no, the entire martial world—Hyeol Unam’s eyes flared.

You arrogant bastard.

His body vanished.

Like piercing through space itself, his hand reached out to seize Unhwi’s neck—

But then.

A faint killing intent flared from the side.

No—

In an instant, it surged—crushing, suffocating, enormous killing intent.

Hyeol Unam twisted his arm and gathered all his energy to block it.

That was the correct decision.

CRACK—!

A foot slammed into Hyeol Unam’s shoulder.

If he hadn’t defended in time, it would’ve struck his temple.

Sliding sideways from the blow, Hyeol Unam lifted his head—and his eyes widened.

“…Paechun Ilju… No Cheonmyeong…?”

The white-haired old man grinned crookedly.

“That’s right. This relic is still alive.”

Impossible.

“…You ascended?”

“Can’t you tell just by looking? After fifty years, I’ve returned. But hey… when did you little bastard get so casual with your words?”

Hyeol Unam scowled and looked back at Unhwi.

He hadn’t moved a single step.

…Trap.

That word flashed in his mind.

Hyeol Unam opened his mouth to shout for his people to run—

But someone else was faster.

THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD—!

Ten swords dropped from the sky, embedding into the hermitage roof. Plum blossoms scattered among them, their heavy fragrance flooding the air.

Many warriors in the martial world used remote sword techniques.

But only one man scattered plum petals and scent while doing so.

A man in a white robe with Twelve Orders written on the back.

He turned his head slightly to glance at Hyeol Unam—then stepped calmly to Unhwi’s side.

Every movement was effortless.

“…Mount Hua’s Peak—Sim Munryong…”

“What an honor. For the Lord of the Fifth Blood-Spirit Division to know my name.”

He casually glanced back.

Heaven-Man master No Cheonmyeong.

And now Sim Munryong, a Mythic Realm warrior.

Hyeol Unam turned around.

From the far side of the hermitage, four men and women were walking forward.

White-Spirit Ghost Shadow Seong Yangho.

Thousand-Handed Beauty Ju Soa.

Quiet Ghost Blade Namgung Wonyang.

Black Flame Death Ghost Han Murin.

Seong Yangho was Ipshin Stage. Ju Soa, at Five Banners Form. The other two also ranked within the Five Dragon Blooming Star tier—but their titles were already famous across the martial world.

When they shattered Jeogan.

When they stood with Unhwi and slaughtered countless foes.

They could no longer be judged by cultivation stage alone. Whatever methods they’d used, they’d slain masters above their level more than once.

In time, they would each become one-against-a-hundred.

Hyeol Unam looked at Unhwi with a hardened face.

“You really intend to go through with this.”

“The Sichuan and Martial Alliances paid the price. But the one who started this—the main Blood Sect—has paid nothing.”

“…”

“You stirred the waters. So now you bleed.”

“…You’ve lost your mind.”

“I haven’t. In the martial world I live in, this is how we settle grudges.”

A statement that, from anyone else, might have earned admiration—but to Hyeol Unam, it reeked of arrogance.

“Can you really shoulder what will come of this?”

Unhwi smiled faintly.

That, more than anything, Hyeol Unam found intolerable.

Still so clueless, is he?

“You think this is funny? Not just you—No Cheonmyeong, you could lose fifty years of training today. You’ve been hiding in Shinsam Valley, branded a relic. I don’t know why you’re siding with that illegitimate brat, but there’s still time to choose the right path. A man of your level could hold a great position in the Sect. Why throw it away to die beside this idiot?”

No Cheonmyeong’s answer was simple.

“What the hell has the Blood Sect ever done for me while I was rotting in the mountains?”

“…”

“All I’ve got left is a debt I want to repay. You wouldn’t understand that, so don’t bother. Just think what you want.”

“…Madman. And Sim Munryong.”

Sim Munryong’s eyes flickered—he hadn’t expected to be addressed.

“You too. Even if you’ve joined Snow Palace, that faction is nothing compared to the Blood Sect. If the Sect wants you dead, you will die.”

“Then come and try.”

“…What?”

“I, Sim Munryong, live for Mount Hua’s rebirth. But no one ever showed me what Mount Hua truly was.”

He placed a hand on Unhwi’s shoulder.

“This guy here—yeah, like you said, this illegitimate bastard—he reminded me of what I’d forgotten. Honestly? I could die here and have no regrets.”

“…”

“The Blood Sect? Screw it. Mount Hua’s spirit doesn’t cower before {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} trash like you.”

They were all insane.

But they knew exactly what they were doing.

And not a single one of them hesitated.

Seong Yangho and the others didn’t even need to be discussed.

“You done talking?”

Unhwi’s voice carried a pleasing resonance.

To Hyeol Unam, it sounded like utter shit.

“If you’ve got any last words, say them now.”

“…”

“Nothing? Very well.”

Unhwi drew the Heavenshaking Spiritblade and drove it into the ground.

“Not a single one escapes.”

His eyes locked onto Hyeol Unam with killing intent.

“Kill. Them. All.”

Unhwi’s allies launched into motion as one.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep