Even for a martial artist with fast recovery, it would take at least a full month of rest before he could so much as lift a spoon again.

“…Your spirit and resolve are astonishing. But more than that, the fact that you’ve already grasped the essence of the Temporal Fist is truly awe-inspiring.”

“I understood it through the Yijinjing.”

“Then you already know—true martial arts lie not in form (hyeong), but in intent (ui).”

“Yes. The movements of the body are merely the expression. True power arises from the heart.”

The statue slowly raised its hand.

“…The trial is over. You have passed.”

To that, Unhwi asked,

“Then you no longer have regrets?”

“…What do you mean?”

“You said it was the final trial. But that wasn’t true, was it?”

“…….”

“The Indestructible Hand Guard you gave me—I’m guessing it was meant to ask whether I was willing to risk serious injury to move forward. I ask you now, Master Jiun. Are you satisfied?”

The statue let out a faint laugh.

“You’re remarkably perceptive. Am I satisfied? Yes. I am. You are not the one our forebears awaited… but whoever that was, you will surpass him.”

Unhwi stared silently at the statue.

“May your path be guided by compassion in emptiness.”

Soon, light began to radiate from the statue’s body. The light intensified until it filled the entire hall—and in an instant, it vanished.

The statue was no longer there. In its place sat a single book.

Unhwi stepped forward and picked it up with his left hand.

The cover read:

“The Grand Heavenly-Earth Reconstitution Technique.”

He instinctively reached out with his right arm to flip through it, but the moment he opened his palm, he winced and furrowed his brow.

Tch.

Clicking his tongue, he turned just a few pages with his left hand.

The densely packed writing made the meaning of “heaven” (cheonji) and “reconstitution” (daehwan) difficult to grasp at a glance—but reading just two pages was enough to understand its value.

It was a recipe for creating the Great Reconstitution Pill.

And not just any version—this was the Heavenly-Earth Great Reconstitution Pill.

It claimed to rapidly recover even near-mortal wounds, dramatically increase internal energy, and almost permanently enhance the body’s natural healing.

It even promised to extend one’s lifespan.

There was only one problem.

The ingredients.

The required materials were absurdly expensive—outrageously so.

Unhwi turned his gaze toward Seo Hyo.

“…Why… why are you looking at me like that?”

“I just looked.”

He silently tucked the book inside his robes, then reattached the Heavenshaking Spiritblade to his right waist.

It looked like he’d be using only his left arm for a while.

Seo Hyo and Seol Horyeong approached.

“…Little brother, I really want to know—what the hell are you?”

“I’m Seol Unhwi, big brother.”

“…Sounds like there’s a complicated reason behind that?”

“Something like that.”

Seol Horyeong gave Unhwi’s shoulder a firm pat.

“Thanks. I owe you my life.”

“It’s nothing. You’d have survived even without me.”

“Don’t think so.”

Seol Horyeong turned to Seo Hyo.

“I mean, not to sound ungrateful after what we’ve been through together, but… you don’t happen to have a thing for stabbing people in the back, do you?”

“…I do it if necessary. But right now, I have no reason to. I’m someone who knows the meaning of gratitude.”

“So, you’re a martial artist first. Before a merchant.”

It was an odd vibe.

“You know me?”

“Sure. I’ve got ears, too. Your name’s Seo Hyo, right? The famed young master of Cheonrim?”

“…You’re well-informed.”

“Of course. I may not look it, but I’m the Commander of Cheonseol Province.”

Seol Horyeong glanced past Unhwi toward the far side of the hall.

A bright light was radiating from that direction—that was the exit.

Once they passed through, they would be out of the Secret Realm, and their internal energy would return.

Even now, Seol Horyeong was still unsure whether or not to fully trust Seo Hyo. Unhwi cleared that up for him.

“It’s fine, big brother.”

“…You’re sure about that?”

“Yes. Don’t worry.”

Unhwi looked toward the exit and said,

“Let’s go.”

***

The moment they stepped into the light, a chill gripped their lungs as if they’d been flash-frozen.

A blizzard was howling with a vengeance, whipping all around them.

Thankfully, they could now use internal energy—if not, this place would’ve become their grave.

Indeed. They could only see a few steps ahead. Beyond that was a blank, white void.

It looked like the boundary between heaven and earth itself, with no clear division between sky and ground.

As natives of the Snow Palace, Unhwi and Seol Horyeong immediately recognized the place. Even Seo Hyo, who had roamed the nation as a merchant, soon realized where they were.

“…This is my first time actually coming here. I’d only heard rumors.”

It was no surprise he said that.

This was the summit of the Perpetual Snow Mountain.

Ordinary people would die long before reaching this height.

The wind that blew at this altitude cut like knives, and the air was so thin that breathing was difficult.

Beneath their feet lay ice and snow piled over tens of thousands of years—blanketing the world like heaven’s silent judgment.

“…I’ve never climbed this high either… So this is the Snow Mountain, huh…”

Seol Horyeong’s awed voice was quickly swallowed by the roaring blizzard.

And then a question arose.

It was normal for the entrance and exit of a Secret Realm to be in different locations—but this was extreme.

Why the summit, of all places?

It was so disconnected, it felt almost… intentional.

That much could be read from the look on Unhwi’s face.

The snowstorm was severe, and even Unhwi was taking damage—but his mind remained sharp.

If it were near the summit, he could accept that.

But this was the exact peak.

He was about to look around when he spoke briefly.

“Seo Hyo.”

“…Yes?”

“The blizzard’s intense. Set up a barrier.”

“…You’re issuing orders now?”

Unhwi turned his head.

“Is that a problem?”

“…Not at all.”

With that, Seo Hyo swept his hand through the air—and a Qi Veil formed around the three of them, sealing out the cold.

Seol Horyeong and Seo Hyo immediately set to work treating and stopping their bleeding. Unhwi also realigned the shattered bones in his right fingers, though he didn’t heal them completely, to allow for natural recovery.

At that moment, Seol Horyeong pulled out the Flaming King Prayer Beads he had obtained from the Secret Realm and wrapped them around his wrist. His gaze sharpened.

His eyes landed on Seo Hyo.

Among the three of them, Seo Hyo was the strongest—an elite warrior of the Heavenly Man Realm.

But that didn’t matter to Seol Horyeong. He might have hidden cards of his own, and he was confident he wouldn’t lose easily—even against someone of that level.

That was the important part: he wouldn’t lose easily.

If he and Seo Hyo were to collide, the shockwaves would spread—and there was someone near the Perpetual Snow Mountain who possessed an incredibly wide field of vision.

He would notice it instantly.

And if that happened, it would all be over.

Unhwi, watching Seol Horyeong’s thoughts play out, smiled subtly.

He’d clarified things inside the Secret Realm, but Seol Horyeong was far more cold and cautious than he appeared.

Unhwi liked that about him.

When leading any organization, doubt was essential.

Even if something seemed acceptable in the moment, once the situation changed, you had to reevaluate.

“Big brother.”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t need to worry.”

“That so?”

“Yes. Also—do you still have the strip of robe I gave you earlier?”

Seol Horyeong nodded and pulled out a bloodstained scrap of cloth from his chest.

It was the list of traitors they’d acquired from Yeon Chuha of Baekryeongak.

“As I said—once you return as Lord of Cheonseol Province, deal with the names on that list accordingly.”

“…”

“And become the Little Palace Lord.”

Unhwi had originally intended to do it himself, but this was the perfect stage.

A chance for Seol Horyeong—the genius eldest son—to reveal his presence and take center stage.

“And leave Seollyeonggak alone.”

Unhwi had already mentioned this within the Secret Realm.

Two of the three great divisions of the Snow Palace had turned.

Seollyeonggak and Baekryeongak.

The one Seol Horyeong needed to deal with was Baekryeongak.

Seol Horyeong stared at his younger brother. Even amid the blizzard, his eyes were clear.

“Why leave Seollyeonggak alone?”

Unhwi smiled gently.

“Those who’ve already revealed themselves aren’t dangerous. It’s the ones still hiding that matter.”

“…The ones still hiding, huh…”

Unhwi wanted to kill the ones who had turned. But unfortunately, the world wasn’t that simple.

Every move had its time. And right now, they didn’t even know the true puppet master behind it all.

What mattered was that those enemies had set their plan in motion—and were executing it.

A disruption in that plan was one thing.

Having the entire plot exposed and overturned was something else entirely.

Right now, people like Yang Seoljin and Yu Cheong probably assumed a small disruption at most.

That was enough.

It was enough to make the tail-end conspirators paranoid, enough to make them turn on one another, enough to distract the masterminds with damage control.

That bought Unhwi time.

Time to uncover the hidden culprits, to cultivate further, to train his followers.

To make the Snow Palace’s internal structure even stronger—so that from the moment Unhwi began to move, the game had already changed.

Their plan was in motion.

But so was his.

The result would only be revealed at the end—but Unhwi was confident.

“Big brother.”

“Yeah?”

“Fortify Cheonseolmun. Keep tight reins on the branch lords and the Thirteen Heavens. Carry out purges where needed. Use that power to cut off Baekryeongak completely.”

“…You’re saying Cheonseolmun needs to bear the weight of Baekryeongak too?”

“Exactly. Once you become Little Palace Lord, Cheonseolmun will naturally become your foundation. And the ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ powers of the Snow Mountain will rally to your banner. Clean the house. Assert your authority. And—”

Unhwi’s gaze turned to Seo Hyo.

“Seo Hyo is fine too. If he truly had other intentions, he would’ve acted already. You know as well as I do—he had plenty of chances. Before entering the Secret Realm. Inside it.”

“…”

“Not once did he act. I hold him in high regard. And someone who didn’t act then has no reason to act now.”

Seol Horyeong took a deep breath.

Then nodded.

“Got it.”

He stepped forward and gripped Unhwi’s shoulder tightly.

In that single gesture, he conveyed far more than words ever could.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep