Unhwi gave a faint laugh.

“I don’t want that. What I want is for Seongjak Province to become a branch aligned with the Everlasting Snow Palace. As you well know, when the Everlasting Snow Palace extends outward, what it requires most is a foothold.”

“…Hmm…”

“As an outside sect, we have no proper stronghold in the Central Plains. But Seongjak Province—connected to the Red Shore and opening out to the coast—its position is hardly a poor one. The expansion of trade routes, the increase of influence, and the broadening of your specialty—‘smuggling.’ It benefits me, and it benefits you. Is that not clear enough reason for us to act together?”

He was not wrong. In truth, standing with Unhwi promised far more gain.

Wi Geumcheon asked in a trembling voice:

“Then… what must we do?”

Unhwi turned his eyes to Pung Muhwi.

“If you wish to keep your power, sharpen your eyes for the board before you. In your current divided state, nothing you do has meaning. You and I must not keep each other in check, but unite as one. If we do not, then when the ‘time’ comes, Seongjak Province will be wiped away in a single stroke.”

Jang Cheonun bit his lip and asked:

“And if… we refuse?”

A slight curl lifted Unhwi’s lips.

“Do you think you can refuse?”

At those words, every man in the pavilion felt a chill seize them.

“I have already ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) subdued the two giants of the Seongjak Alliance. And if that is still not enough to convince you—if after all these words you still cannot grasp it—”

A glacial gleam flowed from Unhwi’s eyes.

“—then I will simply reduce your number. There is no reason the Seongjak Alliance must consist of seven sects.”

“…Khmm…”

“We should be standing back-to-back against outsiders, not baring blades at each other. I will leave it at this. What I want is for you to accept reality and make your own choice.”

Wi Geumcheon raised his cup with a trembling hand.

“Celestial Envoy, I would hear your proposal in detail.”

“It is simple.”

Unhwi looked around the pavilion as he spoke.

“To make the Seongjak Alliance into a true alliance. No longer a scatter of sand, each one only chasing his own profit, but an entity that stands as one and can face external foes.”

“Specifically…”

“First, unify command. No longer will each of you act separately.”

Pung Muhwi frowned.

“And who, then, will hold that command?”

“Me.”

At Unhwi’s resolute answer, silence fell upon the pavilion once again.

“Second, though each sect may continue in its own territory during ordinary times, in crisis we will form a coalition army from each sect’s elite, able to assemble at once.”

And.

“Third, the information networks will be integrated. We must be able to grasp the movements of the Five Sword Schools and the Outer Sima Sect in real time.”

Unhwi paused, sweeping his gaze over each of them in turn.

“This is the new Seongjak Alliance I propose.”

With that, he gestured to Commander Seong.

Quick to understand, the man went around refilling each empty cup.

For Jang Cheonun and Pung Muhwi, he poured until the liquor spilled over, soaking their trousers. Before moving on, he fixed them both with an icy stare, and the two men—guilt biting somewhere deep—averted their eyes.

At last, he filled Unhwi’s cup.

“If you accept, drink. If not, set it down.”

Unhwi raised his cup. After a moment’s hesitation, each of them raised theirs as well.

On this day, the Seongjak Alliance became one.

Under Unhwi.

***

All had departed—save Pung Muhwi.

He still sat at the table, listlessly prodding at the food before him with his chopsticks. He did not eat, only pushed it about.

Unhwi asked quietly:

“Is it because you’re hungry before the meal?”

“…The food is good. I stayed for another reason.”

The arrogance usually in Pung Muhwi’s voice was gone.

Unhwi drained his cup and asked again:

“It concerns me, doesn’t it? If you have something to say, then speak.”

Pung Muhwi set down his chopsticks and looked directly at him.

“I agree with you completely. I have not a shred of objection to unifying the Seongjak Alliance and to you giving the commands.”

And rightly so. He was a martial man.

In a world where strength reigned supreme, Unhwi had already subdued him. Considering that subduing often proved harder than killing, it meant Unhwi could slay him at will.

To follow was natural—and Unhwi’s reasoning had been sound. To deny it would have been to deny reason itself.

Pung Muhwi spoke in a serious tone.

“I remained because I have a question.”

“Ask it.”

After a brief hesitation, he spoke.

“…You told me this once: that I still did not know from where the wind was blowing.”

“I did.”

“I want to hear the true meaning of those words.”

Unhwi gazed at him steadily.

“You wish to hear the counsel of one stronger than you?”

“…Yes.”

Pung Muhwi was, in truth, the de facto head of the Seongjak Alliance. To win him over was as good as bringing the entire alliance along.

And more—if bound in this way, it would make everything that followed far easier.

After a moment’s thought, Unhwi began.

“The wind… is a most peculiar existence.”

His voice sank low.

“What you displayed earlier was the Wind-God’s Free Sword, was it not? The absolute technique of the Wind-Sword Pavilion.”

“…Yes. I am a little surprised you recognized it.”

“There is no need for surprise. Just as there are martial arts that take after the clouds, or the ice, so too must there be those that take after the wind.”

“…”

“And for one not to recognize such a high-grade martial art would only mean he lacks the qualifications of a warrior. You should rightfully be proud of a Martial-God-level technique that gathers the natural wind itself and merges it with sword qi.”

Pung Muhwi was, for a moment, at a loss for words.

For these words struck deep into his chest. He had not expected such praise.

“…Thank you.”

But Unhwi shook his head. It was not the time to linger—he wanted to finish quickly and rest.

“But there is something you are overlooking.”

“What is that?”

“Have you heard of the Realm of the Wind-God?”

Pung Muhwi’s eyes widened.

“The Realm of the Wind-God…”

“It is the state where a man becomes one with the wind itself—becomes the storm.”

Unhwi traced a finger through the air. A small current of wind curled about his fingertip.

“Like the Unity of Man and Sword, or the Unity of Man and Spear. Becoming one with the wind.”

“But in the Wind-Sword Pavilion… we have no such technique…”

“The Wind-Sword Pavilion has no record of the Realm of the Wind-God.”

Unhwi smiled faintly.

“For it was the spirit of the Heavenly Wind Sect—a school of the ancient age, famed for their mastery of wind.”

Pung Muhwi exclaimed in shock:

“The Heavenly Wind Sect… such a sect existed?”

“It has long since vanished. But their martial legacy remains.”

Unhwi fixed him with a look.

“In the Wind-God’s Free Sword you displayed, I clearly saw traces of the Realm of the Wind-God. It seemed to have no direct relation to the Wind-Sword Pavilion itself.”

Pung Muhwi drew in a deep breath.

“Then…”

“There are two possibilities. Either the Pavilion’s founding ancestor, or some other figure long ago, obtained a fragment of the Heavenly Wind Sect’s techniques. Or—someone attained the Martial-God’s Five Realms and from there awakened the Realm of the Wind-God. You know this well enough yourself: those who walk the path of the wind, their thoughts all converge to the same end.”

Profound understanding filled Unhwi’s tone.

“They call it All Streams Return to the Source. No matter where they begin, they will arrive at the same place.”

“…”

“What you pursued was the ultimate of the wind. That was the Realm of the Wind-God. Only—you tried to walk that path alone.”

Pung Muhwi gave a great sigh of awe and rose to his feet, clasping his fists in a respectful salute.

“My gratitude. Today I have received a true lesson from you.”

“Is that enough?”

“…More than enough. The Realm of the Wind-God—I will look into it in earnest, and train myself. Already, the words you have spoken stir something within me… I begin to feel it. A glimmer of realization.”

Unhwi nodded. A strengthening of force was never a bad thing.

Pung Muhwi asked again:

“What will you do now?”

“I have a plan.”

“May I ask what it is?”

Unhwi glanced up at the sky before answering.

“I will sweep away every Green Forest stronghold in and around Seongjak Province.”

Pung Muhwi’s expression grew conflicted.

“But… Lord Ye Wonje of the Heavenly Alliance once said, even bandits are martial men, and whatever exploitation of commoners they commit, we must be understanding of it.”

Unhwi gave a cold laugh.

“And so he was used in his death, and no one grieves him. Was that not the measure of the man?”

“…Hmm…”

“He was beheaded in the night along with his loyal followers. And not one person even cares to discover who the murderer was. Not one weeps for him. That is the value of the man called Ye Wonje.”

Unhwi’s voice grew colder still.

“Even if it was pure idealism, if it stood divorced from reality, it was meaningless. And if one lacks the power to uphold it, there is no worth in revering it. Is that not so?”

Pung Muhwi bowed his head deeply.

“Perhaps… our paths may yet be the same.”

“I never thought otherwise.”

Unhwi replied evenly.

“It was only your own gaze, your own will, that twisted the meaning.”

“…Today, I have truly learned much.”

Pung Muhwi drew something from his robes: top-grade golden medicine and several spirit pills for recovery.

“Take these.”

He handed them to Unhwi.

“Within two days, I will summon each sect’s finest elites and form the organization. Do you have a name in mind?”

“No.”

“Then I will see to it.”

Once more, Pung Muhwi offered a deep salute.

“Take care of yourself. And… for your wounds—I am sorry.”

With that, he left the pavilion.

Unhwi, left alone, smiled at Commander Seong.

“It’s before the meal. Come, eat with me.”

Commander Seong gave an awkward laugh.

“May I?”

At the barest nod, Commander Seong immediately began to eat.

Unhwi leaned back, lit a Shinsamyeon, and let the smoke curl up toward the sky.

So far, things were proceeding smoothly.

But then—

Unhwi’s brows faintly drew together.

And Commander Seong, biting into a slice of dongpo pork, furrowed his brows as well.

“…This isn’t something you predicted, is it?”

Unhwi chose not to answer.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep