Chapter 157

“There is a surviving child.”

At those words, Unhwi’s brow furrowed.

“...Surviving?”

“Because the child has only the final stage remaining, their remaining lifespan is no more than one or two years. However, they are unmistakably a pure-blooded Poison-Soul Constitution.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

“...Do you really need to ask when you already know?”

Only then did a faint smile rise on Unhwi’s lips.

“You really are poison incarnate.”

“......”

“You don’t intend to die alone? Whether it’s Cheonsa-eum or whoever else, you’re determined to make someone pay?”

“...That’s right.”

“Impressive. What’s your name?”

“...Saengdong.”

Saengdong.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t a name Unhwi recognized. But if this man had wielded such virulent poison and conducted secret experiments on top of that, then his capabilities were beyond question.

Which meant only one thing.

A spent pawn.

This Saengdong was already dead in the future Unhwi knew. That was the only way to explain why Unhwi had never heard of him.

“Where is the surviving child?”

In a tone of utter resignation, Saengdong opened his mouth.

“Underground... third secret chamber, or possibly the final chamber.”

“The age?”

“...Two years old.”

“I see.”

Unhwi turned his head.

Just earlier, the moment Saengdong revealed that the Tae-Yeong Record was buried in the hermitage, someone had rushed off in that direction.

All except Commander Seong.

The remaining three had searched the hermitage, and among them, Ju Soa picked up a box that had been buried beneath the floor.

Glancing at Wonyang, who let out a groan of frustration at not having found it first, Ju Soa spoke.

“Found it.”

At Unhwi’s signal, Ju Soa quickly ran over and handed the box to him.

Myriad-Year Cold Iron.

Made of that rare substance, the box was as heavy as it was priceless.

Unhwi handed it directly to Saengdong.

“Open it.”

“...You really don’t trust easily, do you?”

Saying nothing, Unhwi simply held it out. Saengdong, bloodied and broken, gave a faint smirk and pressed the bottom of the box.

With a metallic click, the box opened, revealing a single bound manuscript inside.

The letters on the cover read:

Tae-Yeong Record.

“Do you believe me now?”

“I do.”

Swiftly skimming the contents of the Tae-Yeong Record, Unhwi slowly rose to his feet.

“You’ve got guts. I like that.”

“......”

“There’s just one thing I want to make absolutely clear.”

“...What is it?”

“If I go to Mount Eumbaek and find nothing—if it turns out you’ve deceived me—then let me assure you: this Tae-Yeong Record will not be written according to your wishes.”

“......”

“Friction with the Original Blood Sect? There are countless ways to resolve it. If you’ve heard anything about me, you should at least know one thing—I’m not someone who acts without thought.”

Saengdong swallowed hard.

He wasn’t wrong.

In the world, Seol Unhwi was already known as a genius of Go, and of tactics.

He was never a man to move recklessly.

Hadn’t he proven that time and again?

And Saengdong wasn’t a fool, either.

He had no illusions about surviving this encounter. But he didn’t want to die alone. He had received the orders, yes, and he had carried them out. But if the one who executes the deed bears all the responsibility while those above enjoy guiltless pleasure—then what justice is that?

That, he could not abide.

“I’ve told you everything. The truth.”

Unhwi nodded, then reached out his hand. Commander Seong handed him a sword.

Just before swinging it, as though he had nearly forgotten, Unhwi asked:

“Is Yu Cheong involved?”

“...You mean the Vice Lord? No. I don’t believe he is.”

Even in his previous life, Unhwi had never fully grasped Yu Cheong’s true identity.

Had Saengdong known, that would’ve been even stranger.

Unhwi nodded—and, without the slightest hesitation, swung the blade.

Slice.

Saengdong’s head hit the ground.

Silently, Unhwi returned the sword to Commander Seong and spoke briefly.

“We’re going to Mount Eumbaek. Follow me.”

“At your command.”

***

The Martial Alliance Lord’s office, where Gun Mugyeol’s twin swords hung upon the wall, was gripped in heavier silence than usual. A report, freshly delivered, lay open before him.

“The Lord of the Blood-Spirit Fivefold Hall... is dead?”

Gun Mugyeol’s voice was calm, but disbelief was evident beneath his tone. Jegal Yeonghyeon, who was present, immediately spoke up.

“That’s not all. The poison masters from Viper Valley, and three Blood Warriors from the Heaven-Earth Division, were also killed.”

“...I’m struggling to understand this. Who led the assault?”

“Seol Unhwi. It’s a confirmed fact.”

Gun Mugyeol softly ran his hand over the paulownia wood desk, then let out a scoff.

Just a week ago, he had sent an official letter apologizing for all conflicts between the Martial Alliance and the Everlasting Snow Palace.

And not just a letter—he had sent Wang Muha of the Golden Path as well.

Wang Muha, who had attained enlightenment through his match with Unhwi, reaching the level of Union of Heaven and Man. Sending such a warrior alongside the letter was equivalent to formally acknowledging the Martial Alliance’s defeat.

That acknowledgment included the Bongrae incident, and before that, the matter of planting spies in the Everlasting Snow Palace. Everything.

The tide had turned so completely that he had no choice but to concede. In truth, it was a massive concession.

He had acknowledged Unhwi’s strength and strategic brilliance—had swallowed his pride as Alliance Lord to do so.

And now that same man—

“He touched the Original Blood Sect? And killed one of the Blood-Spirit Fivefold Lords? I don’t get it.”

A single stone tossed in jest had now entangled three factions—a fact not even worth remarking upon anymore.

But neither the Sichuan Alliance nor the Martial Alliance had ever intended to hold the Original Blood Sect accountable.

No, they couldn’t.

Not them.

This was the Original Blood Sect—Middle Heaven’s greatest force. Filled with supreme masters of the Martial Five Canons, led by the Celestial Daoist who had reigned as martial overlord for over a century.

If he so wished, even the Martial Alliance could be torn apart overnight.

Gun Mugyeol slowly rose and walked toward the window.

“...I knew he was smart. But was he only this smart?”

Behind ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) him, a subtle light flickered in Jegal Yeonghyeon’s eyes. Though he kept his expression carefully neutral, inwardly, he was smiling.

He recalled every moment Unhwi had humiliated him—when his hidden pieces in Bongrae had been uncovered, when the board had been overturned by Unhwi’s divine move, when the internal backlash against him rose like a tide, stripping him of dignity and authority.

Even now, those memories tormented him.

But no longer.

Heaven smiles upon me... That arrogant brat put too much faith in his own mind, and now he’s about to drag the entire Snow Palace to ruin.

Inside, he was laughing.

Mad fool. Stupid bastard.

But outwardly, he remained composed.

“What will you do?”

At Jegal Yeonghyeon’s question, Gun Mugyeol slowly turned.

“What do you think?”

“I believe either the complete destruction of the Everlasting Snow Palace, or the death of Seol Unhwi himself, is inevitable.”

Gun Mugyeol gazed at him wordlessly.

Thinking it over, it made sense.

That kind of reasoning was natural. Crossing the Original Blood Sect meant exactly that.

And yet—just faintly—he felt a sliver of doubt.

He had never underestimated Seol Unhwi. He had valued him highly, which was why he’d concluded he must be eliminated.

And yet the boy had made such a reckless move?

...Could there be something more?

“For now, we watch.”

At Gun Mugyeol’s quiet command, Jegal Yeonghyeon bowed his head.

In his eyes gleamed a subtle anticipation—one hope alone.

Unhwi’s ruin.

That was what Jegal Yeonghyeon now awaited.

***

The main base of the Sichuan Alliance stood at the borderlands of Sichuan, atop a cloud-draped summit.

From the Alliance Lord’s residence, the entire realm could be viewed in a single glance. Kang Cheonwoo stood with his back to that view, reading the just-arrived letter.

Moyong Namcheon stood silently behind him, as Kang Cheonwoo’s expression changed. Eventually, he let out a wry laugh.

“Hah... Well, now.”

Moyong Namcheon, his face grave, opened his mouth.

“...Lord Kang, I understand that you hold Seol Unhwi in high regard... but this may be going too far.”

To be exact, it was far more than “a little.”

Just two days.

In only two days, Unhwi had crossed the Original Blood Sect.

This was beyond madness.

One had to wonder if he was even human.

“Vice Lord.”

“Yes.”

Kang Cheonwoo scratched his head.

“...I gave that brat the Heavenshaking Spiritblade. If I take it back now, would it look bad?”

“It would.”

“...Badly?”

“Yes.”

Kang Cheonwoo burst out laughing, deep and genuine.

Impossible to read.

“...Are you truly all right with this?”

“No. Not at all.”

“......”

“I went out of my way to give him the sword, and now he’s about to become a corpse. And the sword may end up in the hands of the Celestial Daoist. Tell me—would you feel good about that?”

“...Well... we still don’t know how it’ll end.”

“True, we don’t.”

Moyong Namcheon was an exceptionally perceptive man.

Looking at Unhwi’s position: he was a concubine’s son, and the youngest.

No matter how great his potential, how bright his future, someone in that position could never inherit the peak of the Everlasting Snow Palace.

Even if he did, internal resistance would be unavoidable.

Open dissent, or hidden dissent.

That would be the seed of future conflict.

This was inevitable. Such was the nature of leading a sect.

Especially one like the Everlasting Snow Palace, where bloodline defined authority.

So then—why had Kang Cheonwoo given him the Heavenshaking Spiritblade?

“...If you truly intend for him to be your successor, then it’s time for us to intervene.”

Kang Cheonwoo smiled faintly.

“You’re the only one who understands me.”

“After all these years, how could I not?”

“But when you say intervene... what exactly do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. The Sichuan Alliance must bring its forces to stand with the Everlasting Snow Palace, to oppose the Original Blood Sect. If we do, the Martial Alliance won’t be able to stay silent either.”

“Because they claim to uphold peace and order in the martial world.”

“Yes. Even the Celestial Daoist will be forced to back down if the Sichuan Alliance, Everlasting Snow Palace, and the Martial Alliance unite.”

“But will Gun Mugyeol cooperate? That worm of a man?”

“...He’s surely wary of Seol Unhwi. Most likely, he’s desperate to kill him.”

“Of course. That man always feared anything beyond his control. And Seol Unhwi is utterly outside of it—seventeen years old, and already beyond him... Cooperation? At best, he’ll try something sneaky behind the scenes.”

“Even so, the name of the Martial Alliance may still be enough to hold the line.”