Chapter 144

“If you’re talking about that, then it’s fine.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve already guessed what’s behind it.”

Seol Yeonhwa’s eyes widened, and Seol Muryeon—who was standing with arms crossed outside the residence—narrowed his eyes with interest.

“It was the Palace Lord’s order, wasn’t it? To remain silent.”

“...Did Father say something to you too?”

He shook his head.

“He didn’t need to. I already knew.”

“How?”

“If I were in danger, neither you, Second Brother, nor Eldest Brother would ever just stand by.”

Seol Yeonhwa smiled brightly, and even Seol Muryeon let out a quiet chuckle, as if he didn’t dislike hearing that.

“I actually requested it myself from the Palace Lord. That no one intervene.”

“...I see. I worried you might feel hurt. Just in case.”

“It’s all right, noona.”

With that, Seol Yeonhwa whispered in a small voice:

“I was going to try and bring a bunch of gifts back with me, but this guy insisted on coming along. You don’t know this, but he’s kind of shy around strangers. Isn’t it funny? Cha Seolrin, the heir of the Polar Extremes, being shy. He’s got kind of a childish side.”

Unhwi burst into laughter. Seol Yeonhwa was probably the first—and last—person who could speak so bluntly to Seol Muryeon.

Even Seol Muryeon didn’t say much back to her. If he said anything, this was the extent of it:

“Enough chatter. Aren’t you going to let us inside?”

Seol Yeonhwa shrugged and stepped aside.

“Unhwi.”

“Yes, Second Brother.”

“I’d like a word with you inside.”

Unhwi nodded and stepped ahead.

“I’ll show you in. Please follow me, Second Brother.”

And so, Seol Muryeon and Unhwi entered the residence.

The place they left behind—

Seol Yeonhwa turned a sharp gaze on Ju Soa and asked,

“Been a while, huh?”

“Sure has. Our famed Flower of Snow Palace—have you been well?”

“I have. Seems like your eyes haven’t gone blind after all. I should’ve gouged them out back then.”

Ju Soa smirked.

“Wow, your tone hasn’t changed a bit. Even though you’re a scion of the Polar Extremes, your words sure lack refinement.”

“Oh please, like you ever cared about my refinement. Don’t start with your bullshit.”

“I never did. Just saying it’s a shame watching you toss it around like trash.”

Seol Yeonhwa’s brow furrowed.

“You bitch...”

“Oh, now we’re calling each other names? My arm still tingles from the punch you gave me. How’s your abdomen, by ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) the way? Still intact?”

If you could call this a connection, it was certainly a hostile one.

In the Martial Alliance, there were regular Dragon-Phoenix Tournaments.

Ju Soa had competed once; Seol Yeonhwa, twice.

They met in the preliminaries one year—and both lost.

Ju Soa’s kick had slammed into Seol Yeonhwa’s stomach; Seol Yeonhwa’s punch had crushed Ju Soa’s arm. The impact sent them both flying—right out of the ring.

The preliminaries were held in a massive arena. Going out of bounds was an automatic disqualification. Naturally, they were both disqualified.

The prize that year had been the Great Rejuvenation Pill of Shaolin.

A pill lost to history in the Chaos of the Thousand-Year Strife. The recipe itself was gone.

At the time, both were at Three Flowers Gathering Purity, the highest level among the competitors. Either one had a high chance of winning the prize.

But because they were disqualified, neither walked away with it.

There was no way they could harbor goodwill toward each other after that.

“...How long are you planning to stay here?”

At Seol Yeonhwa’s question, Ju Soa replied flatly,

“No idea.”

Originally, her stay had been set at one year, but she had no intention of leaving afterward.

Being around Unhwi was—honestly—just too interesting.

More than anything else—

“Your little brother, who also happens to be my Ta-ju-nim? Yeah, he’s finding all kinds of useful things for me to do.”

“...”

“If you’ve got a problem, why don’t you go tattle on me?”

“...Tch.”

Seol Yeonhwa turned her head away. So did Ju Soa.

The only one to congratulate Han Murin for reaching Five Dragons Offering to the Sacred One was Wonyang.

She whispered softly,

“Congratulations.”

“Yes. Well... it’s not that big a deal.”

***

On the way to the residence, Unhwi paused mid-step.

The sparring between Seol Yeonhwa and Ju Soa wasn’t loud—but he could hear it clearly.

Seol Muryeon spoke quietly.

“Does it bother you?”

“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t. Even if they were once close, Ju Soa is now my subordinate.”

“You don’t like that a subordinate is speaking that way to Seol Yeonhwa, heir of the Polar Extremes?”

“I think she needs at least some discipline.”

Seol Muryeon nodded, as if he understood perfectly.

Then he said,

“There’s something you don’t know.”

“I don’t?”

“How many people do you think Yeonhwa truly calls a friend?”

That made Unhwi flinch for a moment.

No matter how extraordinary he was, Unhwi wasn’t perfect.

No one in this world is perfect. No matter how many praise you as someone who sees through all things, it doesn’t mean you actually can.

Who is Seol Yeonhwa’s closest friend?

Unhwi couldn’t answer that easily.

“It was four years ago. At the Martial Alliance’s Dragon-Phoenix Tournament, Yeonhwa was eliminated in the prelims—alongside a woman named Ju Soa.”

As if recalling the memory, Seol Muryeon’s lips curled into a faint smile.

“She took it hard. Swore she’d train until she could beat Ju Soa and never stopped. Eventually, she reached Five Dragons Offering to the Sacred One. Among the young female martial artists of today, those two boast the fastest and most exceptional growth. For Yeonhwa, Ju Soa is both a rival and a mirror—each sharpens the other’s blade.”

There was genuine interest in Unhwi’s eyes.

A relationship where both sharpen each other’s blades. A striking phrase.

“May I hear more?”

“Of course. A sword cannot sharpen itself. It needs a grindstone. And in being ground, the grindstone is worn away too. Such is their relationship. In my eyes, it’s the kind of bond that might only come once every thirty, maybe fifty years.”

Seol Muryeon’s gaze deepened.

“Unhwi.”

“Yes, Second Brother.”

“In the garden that is the Martial World, each flower blooms with its own color. But some only shine brighter when they bloom together. Ju Soa may be a gift from the heavens—a flower that helps Yeonhwa bloom more vividly.”

He glanced skyward. Insight lingered in his eyes.

“The laws of the world are strange. The people who clash most fiercely are sometimes the ones who understand each other most deeply. A flower blooming alone on the polar frost may fall to a single breeze—but flowers leaning on each other can survive a storm.”

Seol Muryeon smiled gently.

“Before you consider her your subordinate and discipline her, try seeing her as someone who fills the emptiness in Yeonhwa’s heart. On the noble snowscapes of the Polar Extremes, even a single spring breeze is precious. And a worthy rival is a gift to be cherished—not something to be resented.”

It was... strange.

There had only been one other time Unhwi had a long conversation with Seol Muryeon.

Back then, he was half-dead from the Thousand-Year Serpent’s poison—nearly dissociated from his own soul—but even then, he’d felt it.

Seol Muryeon’s insight was exceptional.

And now, once again, he was certain.

It was no coincidence Seol Jungcheon had named Seol Muryeon the next Palace Lord.

“Your words strike deep in my chest, Second Brother.”

“Do they?”

“Yes. Those who practice martial arts often dream of standing at the summit. That’s true of Third Sister, you, Eldest Brother, and me alike. But even if we haven’t reached the top yet, none of us are unaware of how lonely and cold it is up there. If there’s someone to share the wind with... what greater blessing could there be?”

Seol Muryeon’s eyes shone.

The youngest sibling was anything but ordinary. Not only did he understand everything—he had his own convictions.

More than anything—

“Thank you, Second Brother. I hadn’t considered things from that angle. After our conversation today, I’ve gained much. I’ll pretend not to notice their dynamic from now on.”

He wasn’t ashamed to admit what he’d lacked—and to fill it through acknowledgement.

How had the youngest changed so much?

In this moment, Seol Muryeon felt immense relief. If he could not fulfill his duties, this younger brother would carry the burden.

“The human heart is said to be sharper than any sword and softer than water—but as Cha Seolrin, I can’t begin to fathom the depth of you, Hyun Seolrin.”

Unhwi laughed.

“You’re giving me too much credit. I feel the same—your insight, Second Brother, is something I could never hope to match.”

“You can match it. Perhaps you’ve already surpassed it.”

“I won’t say anything to that now. You might feel hurt.”

That made Seol Muryeon chuckle softly, and Unhwi’s eyes widened.

It was—how should he put it—an honest smile.

The first he’d ever seen from him.

“Come inside. I’ve got a line of gifts for you.”

“I look forward to it.”

Their steps toward the residence were light.

And the footprints they left behind were as clear and deep as snow in the polar expanse.

***

Unhwi and Seol Muryeon sat facing each other inside the residence.

Outside the window, the snowy peaks of the Seol Mountains gleamed in pure white. Inside, the room was filled with a comforting warmth.

In their previous lives, the two had not exchanged so much as a single word.

But in this life—so much had changed.

It was a stark contrast. Almost shockingly so.

Unhwi felt a flicker of curiosity.

What exactly had Seol Muryeon come here to say?

Seol Muryeon opened his mouth.

“We wandered a bit earlier, but... I came here today because there’s something I want to give you, and something I need to say.”

“Please speak, Second Brother.”

Seol Muryeon’s gaze softened.

“If not for you, I may not even be sitting here now. That matter with Yaksoo as well... I wanted to express my gratitude for everything.”

“I only did what had to be done.”

Seol Muryeon shook his head.

“No. You risked your life to act. You covered for my foolish mistake... and you helped me fully absorb the power of the Thousand-Year Serpent. If I tried to repay that kind of grace with mere words—how could I still call myself a man?”