Unhwi nodded and slowly opened his mouth.

“Then I should preserve that corpse properly as well.”

“The ice essence is with you, and you’ll use it better than I would, so I trust you’ll handle it well.”

Unhwi smiled softly.

It was a smile of affirmation. Shin Gang gave a faint snort of laughter.

“Then I’ll be going.”

“Take care. I can’t see you off.”

“I didn’t expect you to.”

Shin Gang turned as he spoke and vanished in an instant.

After he disappeared, Unhwi quietly folded into a seated meditation posture.

Now he truly needed to rest.

Only after he recovered could he respond to anything at all.

The night grew deeper.

Fifteen days passed.

Deep in the mountains, where no human footsteps reached, a single wagon stood still.

The surroundings were silent. It was a still space where not even birdsong could be heard. Beside the wagon, two people had quietly taken their seats.

One wore a black mask with a single horn, and the other looked extremely pale, as if his condition was poor.

Unhwi and Flame King Hwa Munyeom.

Unhwi slowly swept his gaze around and said,

“This should be enough.”

Flame King Hwa Munyeom nodded.

His eyes stayed on Unhwi. In the past, he would have pressed him with questions about his plan.

Whether that method [N O V E L I G H T] was truly right, whether there was another way.

Setting aside disguising Mae Wuidong’s corpse, whether Unhwi was certain it would succeed.

And what risks he was taking.

If this had been before, he would have asked in detail when Unhwi told him to come along, but this time he asked nothing.

Who killed Mae Wuidong in that wagon?

Unhwi did.

Flame King Hwa Munyeom, who had watched Unhwi’s desperate blood-soaked battle with Mae Wuidong, had realized many things.

The way Unhwi had not retreated for even a single moment against someone at Unity of Heaven and Man.

Conviction that did not waver even before death, and a will that did not scatter.

It was unforgettable.

Flame King Hwa Munyeom had seen Yucheong, the demon-path Preceptor of the Original Blood Cult, with his own eyes.

That overwhelming presence, that weight pressing down on everything around him, and that enormous pressure beyond words.

Yucheong was like a giant pillar holding up the sky itself. Even Yucheong would not have shown such a face at Unhwi’s age. No—such a thing would have been absolutely impossible.

Unhwi’s target was Yucheong.

And Unhwi had some kind of relationship with the Heavenly Daoist.

How could someone like Flame King Hwa Munyeom not recognize the Blood Demon Soaring-Heaven Art?

Flame King Hwa Munyeom had already made his decision.

To truly stand with Unhwi.

“Now tell me. There must be a reason you brought even me along—what do you need me to do?”

Unhwi looked at him with a strange expression.

“Unexpected.”

“What is?”

“I thought you had quite a few complaints, but you came along without resistance… and you’re brimming with motivation even though you don’t know what you’ll be doing, Senior.”

“Speak.”

“I’m worried for no reason. They say when someone suddenly changes like that, they die soon.”

Flame King Hwa Munyeom let out a dry laugh.

“Are you dissatisfied?”

“Not dissatisfied. Just curious. Have you finally felt that my way is right?”

“Close.”

“Close?”

“Do what you think is right, and if you need me in the process, take me and use me. If you cross the line like Mae Wuidong did, I’ll look at you differently and turn away as well. But if you do not, then I will become your sharpest blade.”

Unhwi made a look of disgust.

“…You’ve changed too much, but fine. More importantly—did you say there were two left?”

While Unhwi rested, Flame King Hwa Munyeom had moved to find the Mukse Society turncoats.

He said he had found and killed fifteen in total so far.

“Looks like two of them fled beyond the border.”

“Can you find them?”

“Mukse Society has operated more beyond the border than in the Central Plains. So it will be difficult… but I can catch them.”

“I see. Then—did those two run toward the Great Desert?”

Flame King Hwa Munyeom nodded.

“If you need my help, tell me.”

“Help?”

“I have an acquaintance in the Great Desert.”

“Hah… A person who lives in a cold snow mountain has ties with someone from the Great Desert, where the weather is so hot you’d burn to death…?”

“Is it strange?”

“Of course it’s strange. It’s rare.”

Once, Unhwi had done a favor for the Soul-Reaping Sect, the greatest sect in the Great Desert.

He told them the Heaven-Soul Extinguishing-Spirit Art they had been searching for, and in return he received the Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Pear—but Eun Unsaeng, the Sect Master of the Soul-Reaping Sect, recognized Unhwi’s value.

So he told Unhwi.

If he ever needed help later, he should say the word—whatever it was, he would help him.

When Unhwi told him that, Flame King Hwa Munyeom’s eyes widened.

“Eun Unsaeng… Isn’t that the mad butcher of the Great Desert? You’re going to spend your grudge-and-debt with that monster like this?”

“Shouldn’t I?”

“It’s not that you shouldn’t… I’m saying you might be able to use it for something more important.”

“Standards for what is ‘more important’ are subjective.”

“…”

“You want it handled as quickly as possible, don’t you.”

He could not deny it.

“From here on, Mukse Society will be an organization with only a shell left, but even so, as Vice Lord you want to fulfill your duty by dealing with defectors and those twisted by desire. I understand that well.”

Flame King Hwa Munyeom watched in silence as Unhwi lit Divine Three-Year Incense.

“I’m doing this to protect that wish, so don’t worry about it too much.”

“…You really are different from everyone else.”

“I’ve heard it too many times. It’s tiresome now. Tell me the two names.”

“…Man-Deung Dragon Sword Sang Chun, and Mystic-Mystic Old Master.”

“I’ve heard of them. Sang Chun is Unity of Heaven and Man, and Mystic-Mystic Old Master is a martial artist at Unity of Heaven and Man.”

“That’s right. To be blunt, they were core figures of Mukse Society.”

“Not anymore.”

“…Are you really fine with this?”

“I’m fine.”

A brief silence fell between them. Only the wind shaking the leaves could be heard.

“…Thank you.”

It was a small voice, but it held sincerity, and it struck Unhwi’s ears clearly.

Unhwi gave a small smile and slowly opened his mouth.

“There’s still quite a bit of time before Shin Gang arrives. Today, Senior Hwa, you have to train one martial art I’ll teach you as much as possible.”

“A martial art?”

“Yes. The Ihwa Flowing-Water Sword Art of the Ihwa Sword Heaven Sect.”

“…If it’s the Ihwa Flowing-Water Sword Art, isn’t that a top-tier martial art at the level of Martial Divinity? And it’s a secret art of the Ihwa Sword Heaven Sect.”

“That’s right. It’s the martial art the previous Sect Master of the Ihwa Sword Heaven Sect, Yeon Hakcheol, passed down to his two disciples.”

He understood.

“When the time comes, you want me to cross blades with Shin Gang in the Sect Master Hall? With the Ihwa Flowing-Water Sword Art?”

“Yes. After roughly five exchanges, you must withdraw. Can you do it?”

“Simply trading exchanges won’t be enough. I’ll have to release my No-Extremes Incarnation presence to the fullest… and imprint ‘emotion’ into Heaven-Earth spirit energy.”

“Exactly. After the sun sets, Shin Gang will come, and he’ll leave traces on Mae Wuidong’s corpse. Train now, and when you watch that sword art then and use it as reference, you should be able to imitate it properly to a degree.”

“Is that all?”

“No. When you trade exchanges with Shin Gang in the Sect Master Hall, you’ll block all others from approaching thoroughly. But if you can’t shake them, the justification loses force. In other words, you have to shake their emotions.”

Heaven-Earth spirit energy was an exquisitely complex force.

A master at No-Extremes Incarnation could imprint emotion into it.

He had to pack in blatant panic and shake the entire Ihwa Sword Heaven Sect.

“Good. I’ll do it.”

There was not the slightest hesitation in Flame King Hwa Munyeom’s answer. No complaints. He simply accepted calmly and firmly.

“Thank you, Senior Hwa.”

With that, Unhwi rummaged through his bag and drew out a manual.

It was the manual of the Ihwa Flowing-Water Sword Art obtained in Ansimgun.

He handed it to Flame King Hwa Munyeom as it was.

Taking it, Flame King Hwa Munyeom looked at Unhwi with eyes holding a trust that had not been there before, and said,

“I’ll train, so go sit over there.”

“Understood.”

Leaning his back against a nearby tree, Unhwi sat down and closed his eyes for a while.

Time passed, and passed again.

One hour, two hours.

When four hours had passed that way, Unhwi opened his eyes, and Flame King Hwa Munyeom—who had been staring through the manual—also lifted his head.

Where their gazes crossed, a man was walking toward them.

Long hair split half black and half white.

It was Shin Gang.

Unhwi slowly rose to his feet.

After flicking a glance at Flame King Hwa Munyeom, Shin Gang said shortly,

“Preparation is done.”

Unhwi answered.

“Then begin at once.”

The friction with the Ihwa Sword Heaven Sect would be settled for certain today.

***

Deep night, Ihwa Sword Heaven Sect.

Im Suje, who had been circulating energy in his residence, quietly opened his eyes.

Long brown hair spilled over his shoulders.

No emotion showed on his face, but deep in his chest, a strange unease was writhing.

It was a martial artist’s instinct.

At the very least, today.

And right now.

Something was about to begin.

Im Suje rose and walked toward the Sect Master Hall.

His footsteps brushed the ground without a sound and left not even a shadow behind. It was movement worthy of his epithet, Skywind Swordsman.

When Im Suje arrived at the Sect Master Hall, he found an unexpected figure there.

A young man with a pale face stood to one side of the hall. He was wearing the Black-Robed Wind-God Robe.

It was the symbol of the Vice Alliance Lord of the Heavenly Alliance.

He had not seen it in person, but he had heard the man wore that at the inauguration ceremony for the Heavenly Arbiter.

It was clear why he wore it.

To tell the world that the authority of the newly created seat called Heavenly Arbiter rivaled the Vice Alliance Lord.

Seol Unhwi. Heavenly Arbiter of the Heavenly Alliance.

He had proven himself countless times.

And yet—why was a key figure of an enemy force, currently at war with the Ihwa Sword Heaven Sect, here?

He turned his head and looked at Im Suje.

With a small smile at his lips, he gave Im Suje a polite fist-and-palm salute.

“It is an honor to meet Senior Im Suje, the Skywind Swordsman.”

His voice was courteous, but somehow relaxed.

Im Suje fell silent for a long moment.

His gaze slowly swept over Unhwi. The pale face, the faintly trembling hands, and shoulders that looked as if they were being forced upright.

“…With that body, why have you come here?”

Im Suje’s voice was low and heavy.

He truly could not understand.

“Did you come to die?”

“Do I look like a defeated man searching for his own grave?”

“Then there is no reason for you to be here.”

Unhwi drove the massive Heavenshaking Spiritblade—so large it looked like it could drag on the ground—into the floor and leaned his back against it.

“This is the first time we’ve met in person, but I understand you don’t have a taste for attacking the wounded.”

Im Suje’s hand slowly moved toward his sword hilt. But he did not draw.

“A dog of the Heavenly Alliance comes to the Ihwa Sword Heaven Sect, and that is all you have to say. I don’t know how much you think you know about me, but no taste for attacking the wounded? We’ll see. If it’s necessary, isn’t it a martial artist’s duty to act?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep