Chapter 66

The First Law of a Secret Realm.

Once inside, panic is death.

The interior of a secret realm is wholly severed from the outside world. The moment you cross the threshold, nothing from the outside can be trusted. A snow-covered mountain may suddenly shift into a searing inferno where the heat alone could boil a man alive. A narrow ridge may vanish into fog so thick you can’t see your own hand—until you’re already tumbling off a cliff.

Seol Unwi—no, Nameless—stepped across the threshold.

The first thing he checked was the Cave Heaven Mirror strapped to his wrist.

Blue.

That meant the surrounding energies were beginning to fluctuate—still stable for now, but verging on change. Without hesitation, Nameless surveyed the terrain.

The air was oppressive, and behind him and on both sides loomed sheer walls. Embedded in the stone were rocks that shimmered faintly with a violet sheen.

Nameless narrowed his eyes. For a sealed-off area, it was unnaturally bright. The light was trickling from those strange rocks—thin, nearly imperceptible threads of radiance leaking into the air.

“Demon-Eye Stone, is it...”

His voice was grave.

He’d expected this secret realm to be unusual, but Demon-Eye Stones—and of this caliber? That was beyond what even he had anticipated.

Not just ordinary Demon-Eye Stones, either.

These were top-grade.

Relics from the vanished Thousand-Year Demon Cult, long lost during the cataclysm known as the Millennium Calamity.

Some say it all began with a single question.

Who were the true rulers of the Age of Primordials?

Only two names ever come up: the Martial Alliance and the Demon Cult. No others mattered.

Roughly two thousand years ago, the Demon Cult had unified the entire martial world, ruling for a thousand years. It was only after that long reign that people began calling it the Thousand-Year Demon Cult.

The Martial Alliance, forged by every orthodox sect uniting as one, rose to challenge the demon hegemony.

That was the beginning of the Millennium Calamity.

An all-consuming war that obliterated a millennium’s worth of history.

No one knows how it ended. No one knows why all nine sects of the old martial world vanished, why the Demon Cult was eradicated, or why the Central Plains were left a ruin.

And no one—absolutely no one—can explain why, ever since that cataclysm, relics from the Age of Primordials keep emerging from secret realms.

Nameless included.

The appearance of a Demon-Eye Stone inside a realm like this could mean only one thing.

This was a Demonic Realm. And not just any—one of the highest grade.

Originally, this realm had been classified as Heaven-Earth Grade.

It was not.

This was minimum Wargod Grade.

That’s what the Demon-Eye Stone implied: high-grade instability. Dangerous volatility.

A lesser man would have feared it.

Nameless was intrigued.

Even as he analyzed the light, his eyes continued sweeping the maze-like terrain.

“A labyrinth. No human presence detectable nearby. Even the faintest trace of breath is smothered. The ambient energy here is interfering with the senses. But why? What is it hiding?”

Hypotheses spun through his mind, assembling and dissolving in moments.

But that wasn’t what mattered.

He’d learn by confronting it head-on.

He drew his sword and walked forward.

Eight slow, measured steps.

Then, he raised his ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ blade toward a patch of pale, swirling mist.

And the mist parted.

Two men emerged from within, weapons drawn, eyes wary.

Exactly as they should be.

The Second Law of a Secret Realm:

Anyone you meet inside is an enemy until proven otherwise.

The two men locked eyes with Nameless, and he stared back without flinching.

The taller of the two, a man in his late thirties with a scar curling like a knife wound down his cheek, was the first to speak.

“Well now... looks like someone beat us to the spot.”

His scar twitched grotesquely whenever he spoke. Beside him stood a man built like a fortress, likely in his mid-forties—thick-limbed, broad-chested, a walking slab of iron.

Nameless could feel their internal energy from where he stood.

Both were in the Three Flowers Gathering Purity realm.

No doubt about it.

The scarred man introduced himself.

“I am Baek Wontak, called the Soaring Dragon Sword. This man beside me is Gu Pyeong, known as the Soul-Severing Blade. Perhaps you’ve heard of us?”

Nameless smiled, calm and pleasant.

“Of course I have. Baek Wontak, famed in the south for his swordplay, and Gu Pyeong—the man who wiped out five demonic clans in southern Tianan overnight. Who in the martial world hasn’t heard your names?”

Praise makes even a bear dance.

The two men looked pleased—though they didn’t lower their guard.

“Glad someone appreciates us,” Wontak said. “But... who are you, exactly? Mind introducing yourself?”

“Gladly. I hail from Hwasong Prefecture, from the clan holdings on Mount Hwasong. My name is Nameless. No alias to speak of.”

“...Nameless, you say?”

It was a name that practically screamed false identity—just like the one he’d used with Wang Daesan before entering the realm.

Still smiling, Nameless continued smoothly.

“There’s been some confusion about my name before, but I assure you—it’s quite real. Hwasong Prefecture is home to several martial clans, the greatest among them being the Mu Clan. I am their second son.”

“Second son, huh?”

“Yes. As you know, tradition dictates that the first son inherits everything. Those of us born second or later... well, we find other paths.”

“Ahh... I understand. That explains everything.”

It was a common story.

Bloodlines had rules. The firstborn was always the heir. Everyone else—second sons, distant cousins—either found their own way or lived in their brother’s shadow.

“The Mu Clan, then,” Wontak mused. “I’ll remember it.”

“I’d be honored, truly. For a senior like yourself to remember my humble name is more than I could ask.”

“Then tell me... what brings you to this realm?”

“As you’ve likely guessed—treasure. I want to inherit the Mu Clan legacy.”

“Hmm...”

“But I’ll be honest. I never thought I’d be the one to claim it. My cultivation may be at the Five Dragon Blooming Star level, but I now stand before two seniors who’ve reached Three Flowers Gathering Purity. I’m not so arrogant as to think I have a chance. I’ll withdraw.”

“Withdraw? Since when does a warrior talk of surrendering?”

Their gazes were skeptical now, almost condescending.

Nameless smiled again, unbothered.

“Forgive me if I spoke poorly. What I mean is—I know my limits. Rather than pursue something I cannot claim, I would rather assist the two of you. I believe that would be more worthwhile.”

“Assist us?”

“Yes. With your permission, of course.”

The two men exchanged a glance. Whispered words passed between them, barely audible.

Gu Pyeong, silent until now, finally spoke.

“Very well. If you help us retrieve the treasure of this realm, we will remember your debt and repay it in full.”

“I thank you.”

“Hwasong Prefecture. Mu Clan. Did I hear that right?”

“Yes, senior.”

The repeated emphasis was not a mistake. Nameless was planting the name, carefully and deliberately.

He simply appeared as a humble newcomer to the martial world.

The two masters seemed to like that.

Just like that, the three of them became a party.

They continued deeper into the realm.

It was a maze.

They followed the walls, turning corners, pressing forward.

Until suddenly—

The Cave Heaven Mirror on Nameless’s wrist flashed red.

The air had shifted.

The realm was now saturated with killing intent.

At the same moment, both men spun and raised their swords behind them. Nameless did the same. They were all tense, alert.

And rightly so.

Thick crimson mist had begun to spill into the corridor, crawling like blood down the walls, slithering across the floor like a living thing.

Baek Wontak and Gu Pyeong frowned.

“...This isn’t good,” Wontak murmured.

“There’s no other path,” Gu Pyeong said flatly. “Wrap your body in inner energy. We force our way through.”

But then—

Wontak sent a whisper through sound transmission.

—I’m not so sure.

Gu Pyeong’s gaze flickered. He responded the same way.

—Not sure?

—What if that mist devours people? Throwing ourselves in might be suicide. But... isn’t there a better option standing right beside us?

It didn’t take long for Gu Pyeong to catch the hint.

—You mean... toss him in first?

—We weren’t planning on dragging dead weight anyway.

—Fair.

No more words were needed.

Gu Pyeong shoved Nameless forward.

“You. Walk into that mist.”

Nameless feigned shock.

“Me, sir?”

“Yes. The mist might weaken after consuming a body. We need our strength for the traps ahead.”

“But...”

“Hah. I haven’t forgotten the Mu Clan of Hwasong Prefecture.”

“Senior...”

“Think carefully. Will you give us gratitude—or resentment?”

Gu Pyeong’s eyes glinted coldly.

“Do you understand?”

“...Y-Yes. I understand.”

Nameless stepped forward like a man condemned, dragging his feet into the crimson fog.

It was a performance worthy of an award.

Under the violet glow of the Demon-Eye Stones, his figure faded—until it vanished entirely into the mist.

“...Not a scream.”

“No sound at all.”

“Think he’s dead?”

“Maybe...”

They watched the fog carefully. The color had lightened slightly.

Just as expected.

If the mist was trap-based demonic energy, then sacrifices would neutralize it.

Nameless had entered as the offering.

He’d probably been torn apart. Or melted.

Either way, the fog had thinned.

“Not bad.”

“We should throw a few silver ingots to the Mu Clan someday.”

They both chuckled.

But they wouldn’t.

Of course not.

Words can be weapons too.

Even warriors of the Three Flowers realm would have spent energy killing a Five Dragon cultivator. But instead, they’d done it with words—and weakened the trap in the process.

A clean kill.

“Let’s go.”

Gu Pyeong nodded. Together, the two wrapped themselves in inner energy and charged into the fog.

A path opened through the mist as they ran.

And down that path...

...walked Nameless.

Alive. Silent.

Each step as weightless as air.

Shadowstep Without Trace.

The footwork that had exterminated four great sects in a single night.

There was no chance the two masters would ever notice it.