“Ice-Soul Poison Sovereign Method. A poison martial art I created over the course of twenty years.”

“I’ve never heard of it before.”

“It fuses the brutal cold of the Snowy Mountains with the stealth of the Baekseol Ghost Brigade. Once mastered… you could carve your name into the Central Plains as an assassin worth remembering.”

“And you’re giving that technique to me?”

“That’s the only way I’ll be at peace.”

Juche placed a hand on Commander Seong’s shoulder.

“And with it, you’ll be able to serve Lord Hyeonseollin all the better.”

The manuals were heavier than expected—not in weight, but in meaning.

“Are you sure I can accept this?”

“You must.”

Juche smiled faintly.

“And remember this. You are now the most valuable asset of the Baekseol Ghost Brigade.”

“Captain…”

Juche patted Commander Seong’s back.

“Don’t follow in my footsteps.”

Only after saying that did he truly turn around.

Juche’s figure disappeared into the swirling snow.

Commander Seong remained standing for a while, gazing down at the martial manuals cradled in his arms.

They contained not only all the martial techniques of the Baekseol Ghost Brigade—but the heart of Captain Juche himself.

Resolve sharpened in Commander Seong’s eyes.

To protect Unhwi. And to live up to Captain Juche’s trust.

The snow began falling harder, but Commander Seong’s heart only grew warmer.

***

In the side residence located in the main estate of the Yangryeong Provincial Command Center.

Unhwi sat at a rather large table, joined by four others.

Outside, snow was gently falling. Unhwi, who had been quietly watching it through the window, turned his head.

Commander Seong, Ju Soa the leader of the Yangwoon Corps, and the two company commanders who made up the Yangwoon Corps—Namgung Wonyang and Han Murin—along with Han Seokhyeon, the Grand Chief of Yangryeong.

Each time Unhwi’s gaze met theirs, they could only smile awkwardly.

Ju Soa was dressed in black robes adorned with silver ornaments.

As always, her expression was blank—but her eyes were deeper than usual. Namgung Wonyang wore a white robe, placing her somewhere between a scholar and a swordswoman in appearance.

Han Murin was clad in martial wear with a red sash, the color of which nearly matched Unhwi’s own ashen hair.

Though her expression was perfectly calm, everyone here knew it. That just the slightest provocation would draw out the deadly aura etched into Han Murin’s very body.

Commander Seong, as always, wore his black robe.

Though the table was generously set with wine and dishes, no one drank, nor did anyone touch the food.

“Tonight is the last night before Commander Seong and I depart.”

At Unhwi’s words, silence fell. No one tried to stop him. They all respected Unhwi in their own way—and thus, they respected his decision.

The fact that only Commander Seong would accompany him was something they had all accepted.

Because if Unhwi had decided it, then there was a reason behind it.

“From the perspective of Everlasting Snow Palace, establishing a base in the Heavenly Alliance’s territory will bring great benefit down the line. I’ll go first, assess the situation, and then decide. But you all know this as well—enmity and alliance alike can be born even when you don’t intend them.”

“……”

“And when it comes to bearing and severing such ties, there’s no one in Everlasting Snow Palace better suited than me.”

Unhwi didn’t particularly enjoy boasting, but he wasn’t so foolish as to hide the truth.

“That’s why I’m going. I’d love to take all of you with me, but unfortunately, you each have your own duties. More than that—you don’t quite meet my standards. So instead, I’ll be leaving you with an assignment.”

The mood grew slightly somber.

Looking at them, Unhwi took three books from his robe and placed them on the table. These were the three sword arts he had completed with No Cheonmyeong.

“The Sword of Ten Thousand Lights, the Azure Phantom Sword, and the Demon-Flame Heaven-Splitting Sword.”

The eyes of Ju Soa, Namgung Wonyang, and Han Murin lit up.

“These sword arts were crafted to suit your individual strengths. Ju Soa, I’m giving you the Sword of Ten Thousand Lights.”

He handed her the first book. Ju Soa’s hand trembled slightly as she received it.

“A sword that hides sharpness within softness. Much like your personality.”

Ju Soa bowed her head deeply. No one saw the glimmer of tears at the corners of her eyes.

“Namgung Wonyang, I’m giving you the Azure Phantom Sword.”

The second book was handed to her.

“A sword that dances between truth and illusion. It will elevate your pursuit of precision. More importantly, it aligns perfectly with the Namgung clan’s sword principles—so focus on mastering it.”

Namgung Wonyang received the book and bowed respectfully with both hands.

“Han Murin, the Demon-Flame Heaven-Splitting Sword is yours.”

The last book was passed to Han Murin.

“Crafted from my understanding of your flame-magic essence. This is not a righteous sword art. But in the path of the sword, there is no right or wrong—only the one who walks their own path.”

Han Murin bowed deeply as she accepted the book. Complex emotions flickered in her eyes.

“While I’m away, the three of you must each elevate your martial state by at least one level. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“I want to see your growth when I return.”

The three nodded in unison.

In Ju Soa’s case, it was hard to say—but at the very least, both Wonyang and Han Murin had dreams they chased.

Wonyang’s goal: to kill her uncle Namgung Ho.

Han Murin’s: to annihilate Hon Do Ma Yeomgung, who falsely branded her father a traitor and killed him.

Unhwi’s teachings were a key that could bring them one step closer to those goals.

“And Han Seokhyeon.”

The Grand Chief raised his head.

“Though you’re not a martial artist, you’ve done more for Yangryeong than anyone—and you’ll continue to do so.”

Unhwi retrieved a small box and handed it to him.

“This is the Cheongun Record. A compilation of various documents and scrolls. It’s not a martial manual, but it holds secrets, history, and knowledge of the martial world. I believe it will aid your wise decisions.”

Han Seokhyeon expressed his thanks deeply. To him, knowledge was worth more than any martial skill.

Just as Unhwi raised his cup—

“…Young Lord?”

All eyes turned to Commander Seong.

“Do I… not get anything?”

Ju Soa let out a snort, and Wonyang chuckled aloud.

“Commander Seong.”

“Yes, Young Lord.”

“You’re the only one accompanying me to the Heavenly Alliance. Along the way—in the carriage or wherever—we’ll be having many discussions.”

“…Discussions, meaning…?”

“What other kind is there? Martial theory.”

Commander Seong blinked. Unhwi asked him:

“Are you interested in Buddhist teachings?”

“Well… I wouldn’t say I’m not interested. But at this point, would it even be meaningful for me to learn Buddhism?”

“It would. Because these are techniques left behind by Bodhidharma.”

Everyone’s jaws dropped.

Bodhidharma.

That name alone explained everything.

The Yijinjing Unhwi had obtained from the Shaolin secret chamber wasn’t just a single scripture.

It contained numerous techniques crafted by Bodhidharma himself—the spatial compression punch he used against the Buddhist statue was only a fraction.

“Heh… as expected of our Young Lord.”

Though Unhwi didn’t say it out loud, he was planning to elevate Commander Seong to the Mythic Realm during this journey.

They had been discussing martial arts often lately, yet Seong hadn’t progressed.

He was stuck—just one step, or even half a step—from breakthrough in the Entry Realm.

This wasn’t unheard of. Even No Cheonmyeong had been in a similar predicament, so Unhwi wasn’t concerned.

With persistent effort, it would come.

If not now, then later.

And if it was Commander Seong—it didn’t matter how long it took. Unhwi’s patience for him was unshakable.

He lifted his cup once more.

“The road to the Heavenly Alliance is long, and the mission there will be even more arduous. But I believe that when all is done and we return, Yangryeong will be stronger than ever.”

Everyone raised their cups and drank together. A firm determination flickered in Unhwi’s eyes.

“Ju Soa.”

“Yes, Supreme Commander.”

“You will protect the Yangwoon Corps.”

Ju Soa nodded.

“Namgung Wonyang. Han Murin.”

The two raised their heads in sync.

“I will not stop you from pursuing your personal grudges. But remember: revenge digs two graves. When the end comes, consider what you’ll become as you raise your swords.”

The two bowed deeply.

“Han Seokhyeon.”

“Yes, Supreme Commander.”

“The administration and finances of Yangryeong are in your hands. Run things stably in my absence—especially regarding the future of the Ice-Snow Academy, this palace, and our relations with the Yang Empire. Handle it all with care. Can you do that?”

“Of course.”

Unhwi looked out the window at the falling snow.

He’d never voiced it aloud—but now seemed the time.

“I’ve given guidance to many throughout my life—but I’ve rarely considered someone my person.”

Everyone blinked at the sudden shift in tone.

“I’ve raised warriors at the Smoke Level, Earth-Heaven Level, even at the Five Divine Realms. Countless martial artists—but never once did I think of them as mine.”

“……”

“Commander Seong. Ju Soa. Namgung Wonyang. Han Murin. And Han Seokhyeon.”

As Unhwi called each name, his gaze met theirs—and each of them instinctively straightened their posture.

“Perhaps I’ll accept more people going forward. Or ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) perhaps not. But you—standing before me now—are undeniably mine. Your dreams are my dreams. And until the day your lives end, I will protect those dreams.”

He raised his cup and filled each of theirs.

“I wanted to say this at least once.”

His sincerity reached them all.

In the quiet but warm atmosphere, the gathering lasted nearly three full hours.

***

Unhwi and Commander Seong stood with their horses at the foot of the mountain path.

Their baggage was minimal.

There was no need for more—everything could be stored in the spatial pouch.

Just as they were about to mount and depart—

Footsteps came from behind.

Unhwi turned his head and asked:

“Did you really come all the way just to see us off?”

“Partly that. But I also wanted to say something.”

It was Ju Soa. A quick glance confirmed she was alone.

“Speak.”

“Mm… you know our contract is for one year, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“You also know there’s only six months left?”

“How could I not?”

Ju Soa crossed her arms. The silver ornament on her robe glinted in the moonlight.

“I want to ask this straight. I don’t know exactly what you plan to do next—but do you actually need me for it?”

“Need, hmm… Are you thinking of leaving?”

Ju Soa shook her head.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep