There wasn’t the slightest change in Yeonsu-on’s expression.

“Primordial Blood Energy? What is that?”

“You’re denying it?”

“Unfortunately, I’m not brazen enough to pretend I know something I don’t, Lord Hyeonseollin.”

Unhwi gave a short laugh—then casually swung his foot.

SPLACK—!

With a sickening crack, Yeonsu-on was struck in the side and hurled backward, crashing into the pond.

Unhwi walked forward in silence.

“Stop. Do not come any closer.”

At that, Unhwi halted in place.

Yeonsu-on’s eyes remained calm.

As if he had resolved himself to something.

Unhwi spoke quietly.

“There are two kinds of martial artists.”

“What on earth are you talking about…”

Yeonsu-on tried to speak calmly, but Unhwi ignored him and continued.

“The first kind remembers the reason they first picked up a blade until the very end. They never betray their path. Whether they live or die, they follow that path.”

Water dripped steadily from Yeonsu-on’s body.

“And the second kind—are those who abandon their path in pursuit of gain. They sell off even their pride as martial artists, and in the end, they deny the very road they once walked.”

Unhwi’s gaze gleamed sharply.

“Your resolve was swift, and your actions even swifter… You let me hit you on purpose.”

That was correct.

Unhwi could see it clearly now. The Primordial Blood Energy leaking from Yeonsu-on’s body was coiled around his neck and limbs—no, three of his limbs—binding them.

If Unhwi stepped any closer, Yeonsu-on would commit suicide by detonating his own energy.

“Cunning. But to calculate everything and act the moment your identity was exposed… I almost find it admirable.”

“…”

“The vessel of your energy—barely at the level of Three Flowers Gathering Purity… you must’ve planned that. Only at that level could you deceive everyone around you.”

“…”

“There’s so much I wanted to ask, but you made it so I can’t act easily. You remind me of someone I once knew.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

Unhwi continued, unfazed.

“Even Yang Seoljin couldn’t wield Primordial Blood Energy. And yet you, who worked alongside him, have a foot planted elsewhere. Who gave it to you?”

“I told you—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Unhwi looked at Yeonsu-on in silence.

He didn’t need answers from Yeonsu-on. There was already plenty he could deduce.

“The Celestial Daoist despises people like you. No matter what the circumstances, he would never teach Primordial Blood Energy to someone like you. As for Elder Yeong Unseong of the Original Blood Sect—he may be an ignorant brute, but he knows full well which matters are his to meddle in and which aren’t. The idea that he’d involve himself here? Not even if the heavens fell.”

Yeonsu-on’s eyes began to tremble.

Those words—

The things Unhwi just said… There’s no way he could know them unless he was on the inside. So how?

“Yang Seoljin always believed that Yu Cheong and he were on the ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) same side. But in the end, Yu Cheong discarded him. That’s how treacherous Yu Cheong is—so it’s likely he had a hand in this. But strangely… I don’t smell Yu Cheong here.”

Unhwi narrowed his eyes.

“The stench is coming from Jung Docheon.”

Yeonsu-on’s calm began to falter under the weight of that terrifyingly natural deduction. Yet, the Primordial Blood Energy wrapped around his body remained undisturbed.

Unhwi spoke in a low voice.

“Jung Docheon of the Thunder Demon Cult has a great interest in elixirs made from human beings. And when the White Snow Mourning Corps sends members on missions, they do so assuming death… which also means, in another light, they could be considered tributes to Jung Docheon. Isn’t that right?”

Yeonsu-on’s lips quivered.

“…Who are you?”

“I told you. Hyeonseollin.”

“That’s not what I’m asking. Why are you doing this to me? What grudge do you have, to slander me like this?”

Unhwi let out a soft scoff.

This behavior reminded him of an old memory.

A man who used his own life as leverage.

And now, without even testing his skills, the bastard was making decisions like this—it left no more room for negotiation.

“Let’s make a deal.”

“…A deal?”

“I know what you intend to do. And I’m prepared to bear the consequences.”

“What do you think I’m going to do?”

“Mutual destruction, isn’t it?”

“…”

“I intend to kill you. But to the outside world, I’ll look like a monster who murdered a blameless hero of the White Snow Mourning Corps. That would threaten my position within the Snow Palace.”

“…”

“There’s something I want to hear from you. If you give me that, I’ll ensure your death is painless. That’s my promise.”

Yeonsu-on didn’t reply.

He only stared quietly at Unhwi.

“There’s no one around, Yeonsu-on.”

His eyes, which had been protesting in grievance, slowly curved upward.

Unhwi looked down at this shameless bastard and spoke slowly.

“Yeonsu-on, the benevolent man. The loyal elder who continued to serve the Snow Palace even after losing an arm. The hero of the White Snow Mourning Corps. A man respected by all. And behind that mask…”

Yeonsu-on suddenly started laughing. At first, it was soft—but it grew louder and louder until it was the laughter of madness.

“Ha… Hahahah! Yes, you’re right. It was all a mask. What was left to me after I lost my life as a martial artist? People’s pity? Hollow respect? What good is any of that?”

He suddenly struck his chest and growled in a low voice.

“You couldn’t possibly understand. The agony of a martial artist who can no longer live as one. The despair of dried-up internal energy and a dead dantian. The humiliation of no longer being able to lift even a pair of chopsticks with the same hands that once wielded a sword!”

Tears streamed from Yeonsu-on’s eyes. They were not tears begging for sympathy.

They were tears of rage and hopelessness.

“He gave me a chance—to live again as a martial artist. Primordial Blood Energy was the last hope I had…”

Unhwi shook his head.

“You stopped being a martial artist the moment you abandoned your path.”

“Shut up!”

Yeonsu-on suddenly rose to his feet. His eyes changed.

“You can’t even imagine what I gave up—what I lost!”

“I don’t need to imagine. I know it for certain.”

“What?”

“You abandoned the core of a martial artist—and gave up being human.”

Unhwi’s eyes sharpened—and Yeonsu-on’s sharpened in turn.

“Tell me. What do you want from me?”

Unhwi didn’t react to the change in tone.

“Outwardly, you cooperated with Yang Seoljin. But behind the scenes, you handed off corps members to Jung Docheon?”

“That’s right.”

“I see.”

“Is that it?”

“One last question. Do you have a ledger?”

“No.”

Unhwi chuckled softly.

“That’s a lie.”

“…What?”

“Bastards like you always leave records. Even if it’s a fake ledger, you make one—just in case you don’t want to die alone. So where is it?”

Yeonsu-on answered with a question of his own.

“Seol Unhwi… do you trust me?”

“Of course not.”

“Exactly. I don’t trust you either. And the ledger? Try finding it if you can. Even if you do, it won’t mean anything.”

Even before the words finished leaving his mouth, Unhwi moved.

It was the fastest he had ever moved.

BOOM—!!

But the Primordial Blood Energy erupted from Yeonsu-on’s body, blasting Unhwi backward.

As he slid back, Unhwi lifted his head.

CRACK—! CRACK—!

He heard the sound of Yeonsu-on’s bones breaking one after another.

Strangely enough, the force and angle of it were almost identical to when Unhwi had kicked him earlier.

Then Yeonsu-on shouted, as if he wanted someone to hear:

“I’m innocent! I—wait, what?”

He didn’t notice.

The blade flying through the air, piercing toward him.

Before he could shatter his own neck—

SQUELCH—!

The Heavenshaking Spiritblade stabbed deep into his solar plexus, just below the center.

As if on cue, the Primordial Blood Energy dissipated into the air.

Yeonsu-on collapsed to the ground, coughing up blood, eyes wide in disbelief.

He saw feet.

Unhwi’s.

“H-How…?”

“I had to know where your false dantian was located.”

“…What?”

“Go to sleep.”

Yeonsu-on’s eyes began to tremble.

No.

This can’t be.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

That was his last thought, as Unhwi sealed his acupoint—and his eyes gently closed.

Unhwi approached slowly and pulled the Heavenshaking Spiritblade from Yeonsu-on’s solar plexus. His face showed no change.

More troublesome than expected—but no matter.

He’d captured him.

There was a great deal he needed to extract from this man.

He took a slow breath and turned his head.

A man had appeared.

A stout figure with a sharp gaze.

Gok Jinbung, chief instructor of the White Snow Mourning Corps.

“…What the hell just happened here?”

“Yeonsu-on was a traitor to the Snow Palace.”

“Vice Captain Yeonsu-on would never betray us!”

Unhwi’s expression shifted subtly.

“And why do you think that?”

“Because he wasn’t that kind of man. Do you even have proof?”

“I’ll find it.”

“…You did that to him without evidence? Bring me proof right now. If not, I swear I’ll—!”

“Chief Instructor Gok Jinbung.”

“…Speak.”

“Am I supposed to explain and justify myself to you?”

“…”

“You speak of evidence when you don’t even know what happened to the subordinates you trained in the White Snow Mourning Corps?”

This was ridiculous.

“Don’t push your luck. Stay in your quarters. You’re not free from suspicion either.”

Gok Jinbung immediately reached for a dagger at his waist.

“You harmed our vice captain without cause… That frail old man—how dare you!”

Nothing in this world happens without a reason.

No matter how revered Yeonsu-on was, Gok Jinbung’s excessive reaction made no sense.

Unhwi spoke coldly.

“Yeonsu-on was a spy. I will torture him and uncover everyone else involved. If you interfere—you will die.”

“…You have no right to call yourself the Polar Descendant.”

That was enough.

“I was hoping it was only Yeonsu-on.”

Gok Jinbung flinched—then suddenly shouted.

“Our vice captain doesn’t deserve this! Hand him over, now!”

He lunged.

His killing intent was not aimed at Unhwi—but at Yeonsu-on.

Clearly, he meant to silence him.

Unhwi smiled faintly.

“You too… were a traitor.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep