“…Let me see your arm. I’ll at least apply some medicine.”

Moved by the sorrow in Wonyang’s voice, Unwi turned to look at her for a moment. The deep concern in her eyes pierced his chest. Without a word, he extended his arm.

Wonyang’s touch gently traced the wound. As though his pain were her own, she carefully applied pressure to acupoints, then pulled out a golden wound balm from her robes and applied it with great care. The inner energy flowing from her fingertips enveloped the injury.

Unwi looked away from her and spoke quietly.

“Cheonpung.”

“Yes.”

“Summon Jang Seok of the Beggars’ Union.”

Cheonpung nodded and immediately dashed off toward Yangnyeong.

“Han Murin.”

“Yes, Lord of the Branch.”

“Gather the corpses with the martial artists over there.”

“You mean the ones from Bongnae too?”

“Do it. But treat them differently.”

Han Murin, sharp as ever, instantly grasped Unwi’s intent.

“Yes. I understand.”

With that, Han Murin moved off. Just then, Wonyang finished treating him and began wrapping his shoulder with a bandage, almost as if embracing him.

There was something in her touch that went beyond simple treatment.

Ju Soa, who had silently observed everything, let out a wry laugh.

“…You’re a monster.”

“You mean me?”

“You really don’t realize it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You made history today. A martial artist at Three Flowers Gathering Purity defeated one at Harmonization Stage. This rumor’s bound to spread across the Central Plains. But I saw it myself and still can’t believe it. You think anyone who only hears it will?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“…Just that things are going to get a whole lot more complicated from now on.”

Unwi gave a small smile.

“I don’t need to worry about that.”

“True. Why would that even matter to you?”

Ju Soa had more experience than most.

Unquestionably, second only to Unwi among those present. That’s why she understood.

“Han Seongcheol Sword Sugwangho was a member of the Upper Wisdom Pavilion of the Martial Alliance. The Pavilion Lord of Upper Wisdom is Golden Path Chess Hero Wang Muha—a master at Union of Heaven and Man.”

The bandage in Wonyang’s hand trembled slightly.

Union of Heaven and Man.

A realm no one could reach lightly.

Even Heaven-and-Earth Spirit Realm could manipulate nature’s energy, but masters at the Martial God Five Realms could truly split mountains and tear the sky.

It wasn’t exaggeration. They could kill with words, disassemble bodies with a single glance. That was the Martial God Five Realms.

“You know quite a bit.”

“Of course. How could I not? But what matters is: why did the Martial Alliance make a move? Were they worried that the Snow Palace, after taking Yangnyeong, would begin exerting influence over the Central Plains? Or are they trying to break you in?”

“Both.”

“Both? They’re worried, so they’re trying to tame you? The Martial Alliance?”

Wonyang’s gaze lowered as she continued bandaging Unwi’s shoulder.

And once again, her feelings reached Unwi.

Unfortunately, no one here knew the truth.

That not long ago, Doksagok had infiltrated Snow Mountain—and that spies aided their incursion.

Among those spies were agents of the Central Blood Sect, Sacheon Alliance, and Martial Alliance.

Yangnyeong, while at the edge of the Central Plains, was still part of the Central martial world. But what lay behind it—Seorap—was not.

From the moment Unwi seized Yangnyeong, the Snow Palace became a sect directly connected to the martial world.

This signaled a change in the balance of power.

The Martial Alliance was first to act, but soon the Sacheon Alliance would move, and the Central Blood Sect as well.

The latter was far from the Snow Palace, so it wouldn’t be immediate—but it was only a matter of time.

“What will you do?” Ju Soa asked.

Unwi answered calmly.

“They made their move first. I made mine. Now, it’s their turn again.”

“…You live such a tiring life.”

“Worried?”

“Wouldn’t you be? I never had a bad relationship with the Martial Alliance, but now it’s about ★ ★ to get ugly.”

Unwi gave a soft chuckle.

“You worry needlessly.”

That made Ju Soa’s eyes gleam.

“That’s a strange way of putting it. You’re confident you can overturn everything, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

Ju Soa and Wonyang both caught the expression on Unwi’s face as he said it.

Ju Soa had some worry—wondering what insane thing he’d do next. But Wonyang felt differently.

She saw in his eyes an unwavering conviction.

Wonyang knew.

Whenever Unwi wore that expression, something would happen.

It was simple logic.

If you can predict your opponent’s move, you can respond accordingly.

But Unwi never played the board thinking just one move ahead.

Right now, Unwi was planning it.

A divine move—a play that could overturn everything.

***

Roughly two shijin passed.

In that time, all the corpses had been cleared.

Han Murin had been sharp.

The corpses of Yangnyeong’s side had been handled with utmost care, even gathering every scattered piece of flesh and laying them with proper spacing.

But the Bongnae corpses were not.

They had been tossed carelessly into a corner, like trash.

Ready to be burned at a moment’s notice.

Or perhaps offered as food to wild dogs.

Unwi looked at the scene with satisfaction, and Han Murin straightened his shoulders with pride.

Strangely, the two of them always resonated on these extremes.

Before long, Cheonpung approached Unwi.

He wasn’t alone—beside him stood Jang Seok, looking far too clean-cut for a beggar.

With a cheerful grin, Jang Seok called out.

“Hahaha, sir! You’ve stirred up trouble again, haven’t you?”

Then he flinched, noticing Unwi’s injury.

“Ho… That wound looks serious. I brought some physicians just in case, and thank heavens I did. You there! Come quickly!”

Jang Seok was nearly as perceptive as Han Murin.

He wasn’t made head of the Beggars’ Yangnyeong Branch for nothing.

Unwi shook his head and spoke.

“The treatment’s already done. Have your physicians look after the other martial artists instead.”

“…Understood. Whoever did it—this treatment’s flawless.”

As Jang Seok turned to give new orders, Unwi got to the point.

“I want information on the movements of the Thunderblade Sword Sect.”

At those words, Jang Seok straightened. Having met Unwi several times now, he knew—the world Unwi lived in was different.

The way he thought, the way he acted—it was different.

He was no ordinary man. At times like this, the best move was to simply follow his lead.

And with it, reward would surely follow.

“Could you specify what exactly you’d like to know?”

“Track the movements of Song Euigyeong in particular. Who he meets, where he goes, and the status of the sects involved with him.”

Jang Seok nodded—but Unwi hadn’t finished.

“Don’t miss any contact with the Martial Alliance, either.”

The Martial Alliance.

At the mention of the name, Jang Seok’s expression also turned grave.

This wasn’t merely a fight between Yangnyeong and Bongnae.

This was a clash between the Everlasting Snow Palace and the Martial Alliance.

No one wants to be the shrimp caught between whales. Jang Seok felt the same.

But if it was Unwi… he would surely show them a way to survive.

“Yes, sir. I’ll uncover everything. I’ll use every ounce of power the Beggars’ Union can muster.”

***

The letter in Song Euigyeong’s hand began to tremble violently.

It contained a full report of what had occurred at the gold mine in Oksu Village.

“Annihilation?!”

His roar echoed through the main hall.

He was speechless.

This outcome wasn’t just unexpected—it was unimaginable.

Annihilation.

Everyone was dead.

No survivors. Every last one of the hundreds stationed there was gone.

“How could this be… Is this… even possible…?”

Standing at the base of the hall, Jang Gyeongmi—Sect Leader of the Flowing Blue Sword Sect—spoke in a cold voice.

“Twenty martial artists at the Flame-Screen Realm, and over a hundred at the New Spirit Stage were deployed. That includes miners, overseers, porters, wagons… even provisions. The monetary loss alone is enormous.”

Her tone was even, but the fury in her voice was unmistakable.

And she wasn’t the only one.

“Sect Leader. May I speak?”

It was Un Sucheon, Sect Leader of the Island Sword Sect.

Song Euigyeong gave a nod.

Un Sucheon began to speak, almost in confession.

“I followed you out of trust. But this was the result. Two of our warriors at Three Flowers Gathering Purity—who would have carried our sect’s future—died there. This…”

His words trailed off, and Song Euigyeong’s eyes sharpened.

“Finish your sentence.”

Un Sucheon seemed resolute now.

“Yes. I will. Our Island Sword Sect has followed you for over twenty years. But today, we suffered enormous loss. And with Sugwangho of the Upper Wisdom Pavilion now dead, this is no longer a simple dispute over a gold mine.”

Another voice joined in.

It was Lee Myeongun, Sect Leader of the Twin Blade Sect.

“He’s right. We’ve lost more than just men. We lost their skills, experience, and all the time and resources we invested. This loss cannot be recovered.”

Song Euigyeong stood in silence, staring out the window.

They weren’t wrong. He had indeed made a mistake.

He had underestimated Seol Unwi.

He thought the man would negotiate.

That they’d split profits and co-manage the mine.

But Seol Unwi had done it differently.

He had acted as a martial artist.

“…Now…”

He sighed and slowly spoke.

“…Fine. I won’t deny it. This was all my fault. And it’s true—the matter has gone beyond our hands. From the moment Sugwangho died, it became the Martial Alliance’s concern.”

“Then we’re just…”

Before Jang Gyeongmi could finish, Song Euigyeong raised a hand to stop her.

“The Martial Alliance may have pushed me, but I made the choice. And I brought you into this. I’ll compensate you—for everything you lost today.”

If it was money, he’d give it. If men, he’d replace them.

If it was martial arts, he’d hand over volumes from the Thunderblade Sword Sect’s library. Even high-grade Flame-level techniques.

He was ready to clean up this mess.

And yet, fear, resentment, and helpless resignation all stirred behind the eyes of Song Euigyeong and the three sect leaders.

It was understandable.

Stationing men at the mine had been his decision. That was undeniable.

But the context mattered.

He’d been pushed.

By the Martial Alliance.

The Thunderblade Sword Sect was affiliated with them. And they had always provided protection.

Song Euigyeong had been nothing more than a stone on their board.

If they chose to abandon him, he’d be cast aside. If they chose to shield him, he’d be safe.

That was his reality.

And yet—

“I have pride, don’t I.”

He rose from his seat.

“We are the sects representing Bongnae. We can’t just retreat like this.”

“Sect Leader…”

“Summon the martial artists. We march for the gold mine.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep