“Palace Lord.”

While admiring the breathtaking scenery of Flame Demon Mountain, Flame-Illusion Sword Sovereign Shin Jueon turned his head.

He was clearly of advanced age, yet his outward appearance closely resembled that of a middle-aged man.

It was thanks to the Facial Preservation Art he had cultivated.

Red hair, sharp eyes, and the cold, mocking smile that always lingered at the corner of his lips.

He spoke.

“What is it, Elder Han.”

At his question, Han Cheolsu carefully explained the thoughts he had been harboring.

The suspicion that Han Murin, who stayed beside Seol Unhwi, might in truth be Dong Murin, and the various circumstances that supported that suspicion.

Shin Jueon’s expression turned peculiar.

“Is that so.”

“…In my view, it seems quite certain.”

The moment he heard the name Dong Yuseong, numerous facts flashed through Shin Jueon’s mind.

First, Dong Yuseong, disciple of Flame King Hwa Munyeom.

And Hwa Muryeong, the only daughter of Hwa Munyeom, who still belonged to the Soul-Dao Demon Flame Palace and was currently dispatched to the Heavenly Alliance as a Cheonsu Temple envoy.

Others might not know it, but Shin Jueon certainly did—Hwa Muryeong had shared a certain relationship with Dong Yuseong.

When the matter had been carried out in the past, the Flame King had already gone into seclusion.

Even so, to avoid drawing him in if possible, they had deliberately pulled Hwa Muryeong back from the line.

And yet—

If Han Murin, who guarded the side of the Heavenly Arbiter, was in fact Dong Yuseong’s son Dong Murin, while Hwa Muryeong, who had been dispatched to the Heavenly Alliance, remained nailed in place there like a stake?

“The Heavenly Arbiter—I have not seen him in person, but it is clear that he is extraordinary.”

“……”

“More than anything, he does not move one step ahead, but at least two steps ahead. To think that someone like him has done nothing until now would be inappropriate.”

In terms of running an organization, Shin Jueon was among the more capable.

“Elder Han.”

“Yes, Palace Lord.”

“Why do you think ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) he remained silent until now?”

Han Cheolsu lowered his head deeply.

“…I apologize. I cannot even begin to guess.”

Shin Jueon did not mind.

“There is a high probability that it was out of necessity.”

“Necessity, you say…?”

“He had a reason to remain silent.”

“……”

“But he made a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

“Isn’t Red-Flame Lady Hwa Muryeong remaining silent?”

“…Ah….”

“Whether she was sweet-talked or not is irrelevant. The fact that Hwa Muryeong—who could not possibly be ignorant of this—remains silent, and that an old grudge of the Soul-Dao Demon Flame Palace sleeps beside Seol Unhwi, means only one thing.”

“That they are aiming for something.”

Everything was clearly connected.

These vermin had been laying out their moves long ago.

And yet, it was puzzling.

What exactly were they aiming for?

It was true that the Five Sword Sects and the Four Demon Sects had formed an alliance with the Heavenly Alliance—but they had not subordinated themselves beneath it.

More importantly, the situation was vastly different from before.

Back then, Mae Wuidong, the Alliance Lord of the Heavenly Alliance, had been alive and well.

Now, he was not.

At present, the Alliance Lord seat of the Heavenly Alliance stood vacant, and Heavenly Arbiter Seol Unhwi was meant to act in that role—but he was not in sound condition.

That made things simpler.

Whatever they were aiming for, he intended to smash it.

Then, suddenly, something occurred to him.

Come to think of it—

If handled well, couldn’t this swallow the Heavenly Alliance whole?

At the very least, it could break Seol Unhwi’s pride.

He spoke slowly.

“Send word to bring ‘Dong Murin’ to the Soul-Dao Demon Flame Palace as soon as possible.”

If Seol Unhwi was as clever as he was said to be, he would clearly understand what that meant.

Han Cheolsu nodded with a complicated expression.

That day,

From Flame Demon Mountain, where the main palace of the Soul-Dao Demon Flame Palace stood, a carrier pigeon took flight.

***

In the garden of the Heavenly Alliance annex, Unhwi sat alone.

In the quiet atmosphere, he slowly clenched and unclenched his left hand.

The traces left behind by the horrific battle in the Heavenly Dragon Hall had now vanished so cleanly that they could no longer be found.

The flow of his internal energy had mostly returned to normal, and the internal injuries he had suffered had also largely recovered.

But this was a different matter.

The dulling of sensation that began at his fingertips and extended through his wrist, elbow, and shoulder. A strange feeling, as if touching the world while wearing thick gloves.

The numbed sensation showed no sign of returning.

This was purely a nerve issue.

A deep sigh escaped him.

The battle with Mae Wuidong had undeniably been a life-or-death struggle.

It had been a fight so desperate that losing his life—or even one or two limbs—would not have been surprising.

In that final moment, they had clashed in a chaotic melee, pouring everything they had into each other.

This was the wound he had suffered then.

After ascending to the Triple Profound Realm, he had fought as strategically as possible—not to show off his past-life experience, but out of necessity.

It was an unavoidable choice to minimize aftereffects.

This was the result.

He had preserved his life.

He had not lost any limbs.

And he had achieved results. He had killed a master of Unity of Heaven and Man—there could hardly be a greater accomplishment.

The problem was that he could not return to his former condition.

From deep within, an injury that could not possibly recover had been etched into his soul.

There was only one way to heal this.

Reforging body and soul.

Not the half-baked reforging he had undergone by consuming the Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Pear.

He meant the true reforging that occurred upon properly ascending to the Realm of Martial Divinity.

Only when his body was completely transformed into that of the Realm of Martial Divinity—capable of fully receiving Heaven-Earth spirit energy—would everything, including his soul, be healed.

This strange dullness of sensation would only be cured then.

Tsk.

The sound of a clicking tongue broke the silence.

He had no idea when that would be.

At the very least, it was impossible in the short term. The Realm of Martial Divinity was not something easily attained.

Which meant that until then, he should avoid using his left arm whenever possible.

“…It can’t be helped.”

A resigned thought passed through his mind.

He had overcome countless crises so far—being unable to use one arm properly would not change things drastically. He would simply need to be more cautious.

Just then, a woman approached him with an urgent expression.

“Heavenly Arbiter… sir!”

Unhwi turned his head.

It was Hwa Muryeong, her red hair striking.

The only daughter of Hwa Munyeom, and currently a member of the Soul-Dao Demon Flame Palace dispatched to the Heavenly Alliance as a Cheonsu Temple envoy.

Unlike her usual calm and cold demeanor, her face was filled with a tangled mix of worry and anger.

“What is it?”

Just by her expression, it was clear she had brought troubling news.

“…I heard.”

“Heard what?”

“They say an order has come down from the Soul-Dao Demon Flame Palace to bring Dong Murin.”

Unhwi took a letter from his robes.

“Are you talking about this?”

It had arrived just yesterday.

The contents were relatively simple—hand over Dong Yuseong’s youngest son.

This was something he had anticipated.

News had spread that Mae Wuidong was dead and that he himself was gravely injured, and the Alliance Lord seat of the Heavenly Alliance now stood vacant.

Although the Four Demon Sects had agreed to join hands with the Heavenly Alliance, situations in the martial world could change rapidly.

“…Shin Jueon—that bastard is more cunning than you think. Do you know that?”

“I know roughly.”

“You can’t just know roughly. He’s a different breed from Yeon Songbaek of the Ihwa Sword Heaven Sect—”

“You keep raising and lowering your tone. Pick one.”

At Unhwi’s sharp admonition, Hwa Muryeong let out a sigh.

“…I’m sorry. But this is urgent. This… it’s too early for things to be like this.”

Unhwi turned his gaze toward the quiet garden.

“Too early… If anything, I think it’s later than expected.”

“…What?”

Unhwi asked the puzzled Hwa Muryeong,

“What do you think is necessary for a newly born organization to survive?”

“…Unity?”

“Unity… Not entirely satisfying, but close.”

“…Then what is it?”

“A precedent.”

Hwa Muryeong’s eyes widened.

“Governing an alliance is different from governing a single organization. To bind together sects of differing inclinations, you must inevitably imprint one thing upon them.”

“Imprint…?”

“Not the destruction of the fence surrounding them, but the conviction that being inside the fence is more beneficial.”

“……”

“When the fence wavers like this, someone will try to shake it, whether from inside or outside. If you deal decisively with that shaker as a precedent—”

Unhwi paused briefly, then continued while looking directly at her.

“Who would dare think of touching the fence again?”

“…You do have a plan, right?”

“I do.”

Hwa Muryeong clenched her fist tightly.

To her, the value of a person called Han Murin was anything but simple.

She had mourned Dong Yuseong’s death more than anyone, and the regret from that moment bound her still.

Helping Han Murin was the only way she could atone.

“…You’ve done things before. I’ll trust you.”

Her voice trembled—whether from anger or worry, it was impossible to tell.

Unhwi slowly stood. The dullness in his left hand was not important right now.

“The fact that Shin Jueon has moved means that things have truly begun.”

His voice was calm, but something sharp like a blade lay hidden within it.

Hwa Muryeong looked at Unhwi. In his eyes, she found a familiar coldness.

“I said earlier that I have a plan.”

“…You did.”

“There are two plans. I intend to execute one of them first.”

There was only one reason he was saying this now.

“Do you need me?”

“I do. Today, I will send a letter to the Soul-Dao Demon Flame Palace. And after about one shijin has passed, you will send one as well.”

“…What should I write?”

“Something along the lines of: the person called Han Murin beside Seol Unhwi does not seem to be Dong Yuseong’s youngest son, Dong Murin—so come and judge for yourselves. Send it loosely phrased like that.”

Hwa Muryeong blinked.

“The Heavenly Arbiter will send something similar too, right?”

Unhwi nodded.

“Then… in the end, it will look like we’re calling out only Shin Jueon directly—ah.”

Mid-sentence, Hwa Muryeong realized it.

“…You’re not trying to draw Shin Jueon out. You’re trying to enlarge the board.”

“Now you’re finally giving a usable answer.”

At Unhwi’s reply, Hwa Muryeong’s mouth fell open.

She could not understand it.

What kind of man Shin Jueon was—Unhwi clearly knew him as if seeing through his palm.

How was that even possible?

“…I guess geniuses can see everything laid out in front of them with just a few pieces of information.”

“As I’ve answered others before, I am not a genius.”

“That’s excessive modesty.”

“Those inside a well can only see a portion of the sky.”

“……”

“When you step outside the well, you will realize that someone like me is no more than a talented man, not a genius.”

Hwa Muryeong scratched her head.

This man was certainly not ordinary.

And because of that, she felt at ease.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep