I’d said it more than once.

Widening the front line in the middle of a war with a particular faction was a suicidal move.

And yet—they had made their choice.

By offering six hundred geun of Shinsam Flower to Everlasting Snow Palace, they were essentially declaring: Everlasting Snow Palace has a stake in Shinsam Valley now. Anyone who wants a piece of it will have to go through them first.

Only then did Chief Steward Seong seem to catch on. He muttered quietly.

“…Tricky.”

“It is tricky. Whoever came up with this must’ve wrung every drop out of their brain to get here. Be it Everlasting Snow Palace or Yangnyeong, there’s no downside for us.”

“That’s true, but…”

Seong paused. He looked at Unwi with an unreadable expression and continued.

“Your expression… is strange. Like someone who’s got something nagging at him.”

“It’s not like there’s nothing bothering me.”

“What is it, then?”

“Don’t you think it’s strange?”

“…If you’re talking about how Shinsam Valley suddenly approached us, then yes, it’s a little odd. But it’s not so strange that it’s beyond understanding.”

“Exactly.”

To most, it looked like a reasonable move.

But not to Unwi.

Someone had placed a stone on the board.

What kind of stone was it? What was the intent behind it?

He needed to uncover the truth.

Only then could he decide his next move.

Lost in thought, Unwi spoke softly.

“Let’s first find out which group was eyeing Shinsam Valley.”

“Understood.”

Seong was just about to leave when Han Murin, just returning from patrol, came walking up from the entrance.

Unwi had already given him instructions.

Over the past few days, more and more people had been gathering in Yangnyeong.

And they weren’t leaving. They hovered just outside the city, as if waiting for something. That was what had caught Unwi’s attention.

Even if this was now territory claimed by Everlasting Snow Palace, it made little sense for outsiders to linger that long—unless there was some other reason.

Unwi had sent Han Murin to find out what it was.

Han Murin spoke.

“I looked into what you asked, my lord… There are rumors a secret realm is about to appear.”

“A secret realm?”

“Yes. Word is spreading quietly… that one will open tomorrow around noon. On the transport route that connects to Saryang—specifically, around Baekma Ancient Road.”

“And your source?”

“One of the top courtesans at the Yangnyeong Pavilion.”

What exactly was a secret realm?

It was a place where relics of the Primordial Era would surface.

The so-called Primordial Era referred to the age when the original Murim was ruled by the ancient orthodox clans and the Thousand-Year Demonic Cult.

To even begin discussing the Primordial Era, one had to mention the Thousand-Year Calamity that happened seven hundred years ago.

The greatest catastrophe in Murim history—an event that wiped out a millennium of legacy in a single stroke.

No one knew the cause. Not even a single record remained.

Everything belonging to the Nine Great Clans was lost. And after that, secret realms began to appear.

These realms began surfacing at random places across the Central Plains—deep ravines, remote trails, unpredictable corners of the world—and inside them were martial arts and treasures from the Primordial Era.

Their appearances could be roughly tracked using an artifact called the Heavenly Compass.

But even then, the compass wasn’t perfectly reliable.

The highest-grade compasses could sense activity within a span of a few jang. The lower tiers could only measure by chi or a single jang at most.

Naturally, if a compass showed signs of activity, the location was kept secret.

Entry into secret realms wasn’t restricted. The more people who knew, the more fierce the competition—so silence was essential.

Still, the world was vast, and people’s mouths were uncontrollable.

Take this secret realm that was due tomorrow. Whispers had already started circulating in the underground.

A faint smile tugged at Unwi’s lips.

Whatever the case—treasures from the Primordial Era were invaluable.

It had been a while since something promising came along.

****

Not all the memories in my head are perfect.

It’s not that I suffer from forgetfulness or anything, but I’m °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° still human.

I clearly remember the major events from my past life—but the insignificant ones? They’re hazy at best.

I try to sharpen those blurred memories whenever I can, but there are always things even I can’t recall.

Like things I’ve never seen or heard of before.

Obviously, I can’t remember what never existed for me in the first place.

And this—this talk of a secret realm appearing in a backwater like Yangnyeong? This is the first I’ve ever heard of it.

Wordlessly, I lifted the Heavenly Compass in my hand.

Its needle spun wildly—north, then west, then south, then east, circling round and round.

I was currently at the peak of Baekma Ancient Road.

I’d been combing the area for signs, and finally, the compass had responded.

The needle’s spinning meant one thing—a secret realm would manifest soon.

“So it was real.”

Beside me, Seong glanced over and murmured.

“…Guess so. It really is a secret realm.”

I tucked the compass back into its leather case.

Strange. Very strange.

“Young master,” Seong called to me.

I turned my head.

“You seem oddly unsettled. Is this your first time seeing a secret realm appear in Yangnyeong?”

“It is.”

“In either of your lives?”

“In both.”

Truly, it was bizarre.

Just like weapons and martial arts, secret realms had grades.

Shinsam-grade. Yeongi-grade. Heaven-and-Earth-grade. Martial-God-grade.

If it’s going to appear around noon tomorrow—and if the compass was reacting like this—

“That means the realm is at least mid-tier Heaven-and-Earth-grade…”

I trailed off.

Seong, watching me closely, tilted his head.

“What’s bothering you?”

“It’s bothering me. Even if it’s a secret realm I’ve never encountered before, even if it had nothing to do with me in my past life—if it were truly a Heaven-and-Earth-grade realm, then I would’ve heard of it at least in passing. But I haven’t. Not once.”

In an instant, Chief Steward Seong’s expression turned grave.

Even if it wasn’t in his memory, someone with Unwi’s experience could usually infer the truth with reasonable certainty.

And based on what Seong and Unwi were both thinking, there was only one possible conclusion that fit this situation.

They didn’t speak it aloud.

All Seong asked was a single question.

“…You’re not thinking of going in, are you?”

I smiled faintly.

“A secret realm shows up in our own front yard—and I’m supposed to hand it over to someone else? How could I possibly do that?”

“Gods… why are you like this?”

At this point, there was no need to be surprised.

Seong’s excessive concern had become routine. It was something I could just let be.

“There are already more than fifty warriors at the Yeongi Realm level gathered in Yangnyeong. We haven’t seen any Heaven-and-Earth Realm warriors yet… but it’s only a matter of time. Even if we put strict control on the courtesan’s lips at the Yangnyeong Pavilion, rumors spread in the blink of an eye.”

“And?”

“What do you mean, ‘and?’ Young master, there’s still a whole day left. A full day before the realm opens—do you know how many martial artists will sniff this place out in that time? You’re seriously going to dive headfirst into that chaos?”

A smile tugged at my lips.

“Aren’t you curious?”

“Curious about what?”

“Why I’ve never heard of it.”

“…”

“What could possibly be inside that it had to be completely erased from existence?”

I clasped my hands behind my back.

No matter how many times I said it—this was far too strange.

There’s only one reason to completely bury the existence of a secret realm.

It’s when something truly unimaginable has been found inside.

And by “unimaginable,” I mean the kind of treasure that, the moment it’s revealed, would cause the entire martial world to descend like a swarm of locusts.

So I started thinking.

If someone wanted to hide the appearance of a secret realm, what would they need to do first?

Step one—eliminate all witnesses.

Step two—kill everyone who knows those witnesses entered the realm.

Step three—perfectly conceal one’s identity.

Only then would people be left to wonder. Did a realm really appear? What came out of it? What happened inside?

And once enough time passes, people forget.

Even if someone tries to investigate afterward…

If that person is also eliminated—

Then the whole operation becomes flawless. A secret realm that no one would ever know had existed.

Really, at this point—

“This is unacceptable.”

No. There was no way I could leave this alone.

“…Young master. Fine, forget going in altogether… but you’re not going in alone, are you?”

I didn’t answer.

Of course I intended to go alone. And Seong, realizing that without needing words, thumped his own chest in frustration.

“Unbelievable. I swear, you’ll be the death of me. Then at least take me with you!”

“I’ll consider it.”

I turned away.

There was much to be done.

Much to prepare.

“Let’s head back.”

“…Yes, sir.”

****

The next day, between 9 and 11 a.m., Unwi stepped out of the Yangnyeong Branch alone, wearing only a light robe.

Outwardly, he looked unburdened. But a closer inspection would’ve told a different story.

First, on his wrist was a small object resembling a mirror—one that hadn’t been visible before.

It was a Cave Heaven Mirror—Dongcheon-gyeong—an artifact used to avoid getting lost inside a secret realm.

Secret realms were, by nature, unstable and unpredictable spaces. No one could guess what dangers might lie within. Hidden traps, collapsing ground, even active formation arrays.

The Cave Heaven Mirror’s color changed in response to fluctuations in the ambient energy.

Under normal conditions, it remained white. If the surrounding energy began to shift, it turned blue. If that shift contained killing intent, it turned red. And if it began to resonate with the overwhelming energy of heaven and earth—the level of Heavenly Essence—the mirror turned black.

And when it turned black?

That was the sign to turn back immediately without hesitation. That was the law inside a secret realm.

At his waist, Unwi had four throwing knives brought from the Hanbing Sect. His travel pouch held ten more as spares, along with five swords.

He also carried several energy pills and wound-sealing medicine.

This—this was solid preparation.

He’d already made up his mind.

He would enter the secret realm alone.

No one present voiced any objections. But concern was plainly visible in their expressions.

That was fine.

Unwi’s experience was not just vast—it was overwhelming.

He knew what was possible and what wasn’t.

He knew what steps would lead to success—and which ones would lead to failure.

He had clear standards.

He knew when something was reckless—and what would be needed to survive it.

All of it had already been calculated in his mind. And he had no interest in explaining it.

It would only waste words and wear out his voice.

Above all, this wasn’t a reckless dive into a mystery.

He might suffer an injury or two.

But Unwi was confident he could claim the treasure within.

As he always had—he would prove it with his steps.

Unwi turned his head and looked at Chief Steward Seong.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep