“In the future, I intend to be a conqueror. Why else do you think I left the Snow Palace?”

Silence fell.

“To walk my own path.”

The air in the pavilion grew heavy.

“You say you would use me as a blade—Yang Seoljin said much the same. That I could become the strongest sword to sweep away obstacles for the revival of the Thousand-Year Demon Sect… That I should devour the Snow Palace… that we should work together…”

Unhwi’s voice turned colder with each word.

“Yang Seoljin was a fool. And incompetent. And as with Seo Hyo, I have no interest in whether the Thousand-Year Demon Sect rises again or not. I have no intention of stopping it either.”

“Why not?”

“Why must I?”

Unhwi’s gaze sharpened.

“This is the martial world. If warriors wish to act, to stop them requires just cause. And unfortunately, I neither have such a cause, nor do I care to fabricate one.”

Hwa Munyeom frowned and was about to speak when Unhwi continued.

“To be frank, I am even a little curious.”

“Curious? About what?”

“What the world will look like if the Thousand-Year Demon Sect is rebuilt.”

The whole pavilion tensed at those words.

“If you ask me to lend my strength to that, I may do so. But in return, you must lend me yours.”

“…”

“Yang Seoljin promised me power in the Snow Palace in exchange for being his blade. He even hinted at schemes to help me eliminate the other heirs of the Extreme North, offering to kill my family for me. Arrogant, wasn’t it?”

The atmosphere sank with his words. Each syllable drew a reaction from the air itself.

At this uncanny phenomenon, Hwa Munyeom’s eyes twitched.

“I wish to be a conqueror who embraces all things. Yet he offered to kill my kin and my people for me? His proposal was an insult.”

“Sometimes, to gain something, you must sacrifice greatly.”

“It is to avoid that fate that I take up my sword.”

“…Hmm.”

“I am greedy. I live to seize what I desire without losing what is mine. For someone like me, Yang Seoljin’s paltry offer was laughable. And you know well—he met a rather miserable end.”

Though imprisoned in a dungeon, it was publicly known he had been torn limb from limb and fed to the hounds.

That was the tale spread.

The air grew heavier still. The warriors of the Muksehoe unconsciously stiffened, even Commander Seong looked at Unhwi in astonishment.

But Hwa Munyeom most of all.

If the others could not sense it, he surely could.

What poured from Unhwi was compressed fury.

It was astonishing. No—terrifying.

A warrior of the Five Origins Realm, merely letting his emotion surface, was enough to alter the environment around him. Hwa Munyeom’s skin and senses told him clearly:

This boy was extraordinary.

This child… is this what he truly was?

It was not only his resolve.

It was the force he exuded.

This boldness.

Such things could not be faked. They belonged only to a true martial man.

Hwa Munyeom’s hand trembled faintly.

It was certain.

The boy before him was real. Not one of the countless fools cluttering the martial world, but a true warrior.

“Senior Hwa… I trust you will not make the same mistake as Yang Seoljin.”

“…You mean not to go against your will, nor rush ahead of you.”

“Exactly.”

“Very well. I understand. Then may we say that from this moment, we walk the same path?”

Unhwi looked at Hwa Munyeom. Something dangerous flickered in his gaze.

“Do you know how Yang Seoljin became Deputy Palace Lord?”

“…”

“I investigated. His rise was a bloody one. He removed rivals, manufactured crises and solved them, became hailed as savior. He roamed the Martial Alliance, the Sichuan Alliance, the Central Plains, and brought immense gains to the Snow Palace. For all that he was Master of Cheonrim, Yang Seoljin could not have done this alone. It was you who placed him on the throne. You who raised him to Deputy Lord of the Everlasting Snow Palace.”

Unhwi’s voice dropped low.

“Remember this well.”

His cold gaze bored into Hwa Munyeom. The entire pavilion held its breath.

“I am not Yang Seoljin.”

An overwhelming force pressed down on the room.

“If you try to use me as you used him, it will be the greatest blunder in the history of your Muksehoe.”

At those words, silence swallowed the pavilion whole.

At last, Hwa Munyeom managed to speak.

“…Then you mean to say matters of the Snow Palace will be yours to handle. In that case, what is it you want?”

Unhwi sat back down, smiling faintly.

“It’s simple. First, treat me as an equal partner.”

“An equal partner…”

“I am not your subordinate. I am not your sword.”

Unhwi lifted his cup.

“If this is truly to be cooperation, then we must respect each other’s aims and move forward in ways that benefit both.”

Hwa Munyeom exhaled heavily.

“…I understand. And the second?”

A thin smile tugged at Unhwi’s lips.

“I want my own path. And on that path, I will claim what I seek.”

“Be specific.”

“As Celestial Envoy, I will fulfill my role.”

He paused, then added:

“And someday, I will stand in the place where I truly belong.”

Hwa Munyeom’s gaze shifted.

“That place…?”

“It is not yet time to speak of it.”

Unhwi shook his head.

“What is certain is this: until the day I stand there, I will need your cooperation.”

“And we will need you.”

“Precisely.”

Unhwi drained his cup.

“But remember. I will not be controlled.”

“Good. I understand. Then, to strengthen our bond, will you hear something from me?”

“If it is Senior Hwa’s words, I will listen.”

“A secret realm will soon appear at Seongrim Mountain.”

“What kind of secret realm?”

“One belonging to the Thousand-Year Demon Sect.”

Unhwi’s brow furrowed, and Commander Seong’s did as well.

“When it appears, I want «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» you to bring us what lies within.”

Hwa Munyeom spoke not as one giving orders, but as one requesting.

They had agreed to stand as equals—this was only natural.

“When?”

“One month from now.”

“One month. Understood. Come to the Cheonryong Pavilion the day after it appears.”

“Straightforward. Very well.”

As Hwa Munyeom rose to leave, Unhwi stopped him.

“I have more questions.”

“Ask.”

“You said Muksehoe. What is your rank within it?”

Hwa Munyeom smiled.

“Vice Master.”

“And those men there?”

Glancing at the ten seated Muksehoe warriors, Hwa Munyeom spoke quietly.

“I see you are curious about our structure. Very well. We are organized into Master, Vice Master, and Heaven–Earth–Man. Heaven-grade, Earth-grade, and Human-grade warriors. These ten are all Earth-grade.”

Unhwi was briefly startled.

All ten were at least of the Mythic Realm, two looked to be at the Heaven–Man Apex. And yet they were merely Earth-grade?

“The Heaven-grade warriors—are they all like you, at the Five Origins Realm?”

“Hrhrhr… more or less.”

“Can you tell me their number?”

“You are full of questions.”

“Better to know than not—that is my judgment.”

“Well… you must measure us against the Everlasting Snow Palace. Very well. There are eight Heaven-grade warriors in Muksehoe.”

At those words, Unhwi’s eyes flashed.

Eight at the Five Origins Realm—and with Hwa Munyeom as Vice Master, and some unknown figure as Master, both surely of the same level, that made ten in total.

Ten.

A staggering number.

Gathering so many was no small feat.

And he doubted they all swore loyalty to Yu Cheong personally. No—they had gathered for a shared cause.

Perhaps…

Perhaps they could be stolen, turned to a blade aimed at Yu Cheong’s throat.

“This is enough for a first meeting. We shall meet again in a month.”

Hwa Munyeom and his followers departed.

Commander Seong approached Unhwi cautiously.

“…Can that be true?”

It was hard not to doubt.

A man at the Five Origins Realm was not so common as to be stumbled over at every step. And yet ten of them? Beneath them, dozens of Earth-grade Mythic Realm experts?

That was force enough to topple not just the Everlasting Snow Palace, but the Martial Alliance and Sichuan Alliance as well.

Naturally, skepticism was only reasonable.

But not for Unhwi.

“It is no lie.”

“…Surely not.”

“Such power is necessary to revive something on the scale of the Thousand-Year Demon Sect.”

He had said it many times: Yu Cheong had many protectors.

Cheonrim was only one part.

And in his past life, the Thousand-Year Demon Sect had indeed been restored. Though Unhwi, fleeing pursuers, had not seen the details, the signs were clear.

Cheonrim had dissolved.

But the Thousand-Year Demon Sect had risen again.

Surely the Muksehoe had been its core.

“I thought it would take longer to uncover them. But we have.”

Commander Seong flinched.

For Unhwi was smiling.

“An order of hidden warriors, living in seclusion, moving in the shadows… Ingenious.”

Truly ingenious.

Ordinarily, those who put gold dust on their faces to retire were considered withdrawn from the world. Few sought to pry into what they did after.

They were in seclusion, after all.

Even if they were seen, wandering the countryside, admiring scenery—who would question it?

Unhwi laughed aloud.

“Laying stones upon the board by exploiting the unreasonable… Amusing.”

He drained his cup and spoke shortly:

“Send a letter to Seo Hyo.”

“What should I write?”

“Within the last twenty years, gather the names of every warrior at the Mythic Realm or above who has retired into seclusion. And tell him of the Muksehoe’s existence. Can you do that?”

“I will send it at once.”

Unhwi rose and headed for his chambers.

He would restore his body as swiftly as possible.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep