Chapter 70

All that remained for him now was one thing.

To capture me—and torture me.

And yet, even as the demonic energy surged toward him from all sides, he did nothing.

That was his second mistake.

The moment I extended my hand, the surrounding demonic energy began to writhe.

At the same time he raised his inner force, all the demonic energy of the “Divine Martial Secret Realm” surged toward him in a frenzy, engulfing him in an instant.

No matter how desperately one might wish for the restoration of the Thousand-Year Demonic Sect, with that much demonic energy flooding in, survival was simply impossible.

After all, Jeong Muheun was not yet the one the future would name the Heavenly Ghost God.

“Ghh... GRAAAAAHH—!!”

Leaving his scream behind, I bolted.

I spotted Ju Soa.

I grabbed her by the hair and sprinted again.

The fourth rule of the secret realm.

No matter what kind of reward appears in the final chamber—whether you throw it into the Twilight Furnace, smash it, or burn it—once its value is nullified, the realm will begin to collapse.

The collapse starts from the center.

Which means the demonic energy sealed inside will begin rampaging wildly.

I immediately reached into the Twilight Furnace and grabbed the decayed, ancient relic.

The demonic energy veered away from me.

My gaze lifted.

Fragments of the Demon-Eye Stones were beginning to shatter and fall, one by one.

I narrowed my eyes.

One of the fragments was glowing more brightly in a specific direction.

Behind us, a Mythic Realm martial artist was radiating light, and the secret realm itself was crumbling. And beside me—dead weight.

I slapped Ju Soa across the face.

SMACK.

Her eyes flew wide open.

“Get a grip.”

“...Y-Yes...”

“Follow me.”

The moment I sprang into motion, she followed without hesitation.

We dashed toward a space that had begun to warp and distort.

That was the exit.

Without a shred of hesitation, I hurled myself forward, and Ju Soa followed in my wake.

****

What awaited us on the other side of the exit was not Baekma Ancient Road, the place where we’d entered.

This was the Nine Dragon Upper Trail.

A completely different landscape.

But that’s how secret realms work. The odds of emerging from the same place you entered are astronomically low. And once an exit is created, it never changes.

Nameless, having made it out, turned immediately and aimed his sword at the exit.

He focused.

Sharpened every sense.

Time itself seemed to stop.

The wind stirred.

Dust rose and drifted from the earth.

Time passed.

Half an incense stick’s worth.

Even after that long, Nameless remained utterly still.

Unfazed by the passing time, unshaken by the presence of others.

This, truly, was the state of total selflessness.

The weight of that overwhelming stillness caused Ju Soa to drop to her knees, swallowing dryly over and over.

Nameless had a simple reason for this stillness.

Jeong Muheun might still emerge.

He was a Mythic Realm expert.

Even if Nameless had briefly overpowered him within the secret realm by wielding demonic energy to perfection, it was all just trickery born of the realm’s peculiar nature.

The true test—was now.

He would need to call upon his False True Breath, and if necessary, even his Innate True Qi.

Jeong Muheun would be exhausted, and likely relieved to have made it out.

Anyone human would feel that.

Of course, martial artists at that level only experience such emotions for the briefest flicker of an instant, so most wouldn’t even call it a “vulnerability.”

But Nameless—

He was confident he could seize that sliver of an opening.

A moment’s gap.

That was enough.

More time passed.

And then the exit trembled—then dissipated like smoke.

Only then did Nameless release his tension.

He lowered his sword and turned to Ju Soa.

Still visibly stunned, she was struggling to process everything that had just happened. It all felt far too unreal.

She’d trusted him.

And he had tried to kill her.

Had he really stopped at just “trying”?

She didn’t want to imagine it.

She turned her head.

And found Nameless looking straight at her.

She flinched.

This man...

Who was he?

He had such an ordinary face. But everything he said carried the weight of someone who’d lived and bled in the martial world for decades. And yet, judging by his cultivation, he seemed to be no higher than Five Dragon Blooming Star.

She couldn’t make sense of it.

Was it possible—had some incredible master deliberately concealed his cultivation to appear as though he were only at Five Dragon Blooming Star?

“...Just who... are you?”

“You don’t know?”

“I’m asking because I don’t know.”

So she really had no idea.

“I’m the one who saved your life.”

“...What?”

“I saved you twice. Once when Jeong Muheun tried to kill you. Once more when the secret realm collapsed. You don’t remember?”

Of course she did.

Ju Soa slowly rose to /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ her feet and bowed deeply, forming a formal martial salute with her fists.

“...Forgive my late greeting. Ju Soa, Master of the Killing Sword Sect, greets the one who saved her life...”

“That’s enough. How does it feel—to be betrayed?”

She blinked.

...Was he mocking her?

“Does it hurt? Or are you just sad?”

“...Both.”

“Both, huh. I see. So. Do you have anywhere to go?”

“...I was considering joining the Martial Alliance or the Sichuan Alliance... But it sounds like you have something in mind?”

“I do.”

“I believe in repaying debts, especially ones involving my life. So tell me.”

Nameless proceeded to say something truly strange.

“Not long ago, the master of Yangnyeong changed hands. You probably heard about it.”

“...I did.”

“I owe the new branch master a debt. I’d like you to repay it on my behalf.”

“...That’s the place where the bastard child of Everlasting Snow Palace lives, isn’t it?”

“You’re well-informed.”

“How could I not know? That so-called ‘Snowy Mountain Demon’ took over Yangnyeong with the backing of Everlasting Snow Palace and walks around like he owns the world...”

“A bit of an idiot, then?”

“Well... not exactly wrong, is it?”

Nameless let out a soft chuckle.

“That idiot has about three other idiots working under him. He needs someone to train them. You seem perfect for the job.”

“...You want me to teach people?”

“Reaching the Five Banners Form means you’re qualified to instruct martial artists.”

Ju Soa scratched her head.

“And... how long would that take? It’s not for life, is it?”

“A generous year. That should be enough.”

“...Alright. I’ll do it.”

"And don’t head there right away. Erase all traces of this place as best you can, and wait a day before going to the Yangnyeong branch."

“...That’s oddly specific.”

Nameless said nothing more. He simply turned his back and began to walk away.

Ju Soa called out after him.

“What’s your name!?”

Nameless smiled faintly.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

****

One day.

Exactly one day had passed since Unwi set off to enter the secret realm.

“...He’ll be alright, won’t he?”

At Wonyang’s quiet question, Chief Steward Seong simply nodded.

“He’ll be fine. This isn’t just anyone we’re talking about. It’s the young master...”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

Even though Wonyang belonged to Unwi, he had no intention of revealing the fact of his regression.

In truth, he didn’t want to tell anyone—not Wonyang, not anyone else.

That was Unwi’s greatest secret. His greatest weapon. And from a certain perspective, his greatest weakness.

Chief Steward Seong ran a hand over his face and continued in a low voice.

“...He’s not someone who’d die so easily, so don’t worry.”

“You say that, but you’re clearly worried too, Sir.”

He couldn’t deny it.

Logically, it all made sense.

The realm of Absolute Oneness—Honwon Dokjon—was one of the highest possible levels. One could rival the very best of the martial world with that power. A realm so far beyond ordinary comprehension, it made eye contact with such beings unthinkable.

Unwi had once stood at that peak.

Even if his current body was now degraded to that of a mere child, it didn’t change the fact that he had climbed that summit once.

Most people couldn’t understand it, but martial artists of that level—those who’d truly transcended—were fundamentally different from ordinary men.

Their senses, for one, were unmatched.

You could never reach that realm without having been born with such perception. When it came to sensing danger, evaluating risks, seeing ten steps ahead—if Unwi judged that something was possible, then it was.

Chief Steward Seong understood that in his mind.

But he had watched Unwi since he was a baby—since he was just one year old.

He had cared for him almost like a foster father. That feeling had never faded.

“By the way... Sir, have you eaten anything?”

He shook his head and let out a long sigh.

Or tried to.

Suddenly, Chief Steward Seong’s eyes flared wide.

His senses screamed at him.

Someone had just crossed over the branch’s outer wall.

He turned sharply.

Rage rose in his chest.

He was already too worried about Unwi to eat or even drink—and now some filthy bastard thought it was a good time to sneak in and steal?

Whoever it was, they were going to be beaten half to death.

No. Not half.

He was going to kill them.

Without a second thought, Chief Steward Seong shot toward the east wall of the branch, following his sharpened senses.

He wasn’t exaggerating—he reached the wall in the time it would take to blink twice.

That was how fast he moved.

And there, sprawled on the ground, was a man.

He immediately began summoning his internal energy, ready to demand who he was, what kind of lunatic dared to trespass here, what he thought he was going to steal—his mind was overflowing with furious questions.

But all of it froze.

The intruder’s face, as he gasped for breath, was unfamiliar—but the body shape was... close.

And then—his features began to change.

Slowly, ever so slowly, as if some kind of disguise technique was unraveling.

Seong’s jaw dropped.

“Young... Young Master...?”

“Kuhk... Chief Steward Seong.”

He rushed to Unwi’s side and supported him.

“What the hell... What happened? Wait, hold on, is this...?”

Even in that brief moment he held Unwi upright, Seong’s refined senses couldn’t help but detect it.

The trace of demonic energy coiled in Unwi’s bloodstream.

“...We need to get you inside. Now.”

“...Understood.”

Without wasting a second, he hoisted Unwi and carried him in.

In just two swift strides, they reached the storage room at the far end of the compound. There, he laid Unwi down and pressed his fingers to his pulse.

It wasn’t just irregular—it was dangerous. And there was a vile, suffocating demonic aura laced into every beat of his veins.

What he had sensed earlier had only been the tip of the iceberg.

This—

If it had been anyone else, their body would have exploded from the pressure alone.

“Did you learn White Snow Clear Meridian Art?”

“...Of course I did.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Unless you’re hoping to attend my funeral, start—”

“I already am.”

Seong wasn’t an idiot.

White Snow Clear Meridian Art was the Everlasting Snow Palace’s meridian-purifying technique.

Originally developed to purge the blood qi used by members of the Central Blood Sect, it had evolved during its creation into a method that could even purge demonic energy.

In today’s martial world, possessing that technique alone would earn someone the respect reserved for the Divine Martial Realm.

From the moment he had touched Unwi’s pulse, Chief Steward Seong had already been analyzing every meridian in his body.

“This is going to hurt.”

His hand on Unwi’s wrist turned icy cold.

His Spirit Ascension Stage cultivation began flowing through Unwi’s enlarged meridians.

“...I’ve noticed it before, but your meridians really are thicker than most.”

Unwi didn’t respond.

Just a faint groan escaped his lips.

And then—dark, oily demonic energy began to seep slowly out of his body.