Chapter 183

I died in the Everlasting Snow Mountains, and with the imprinting of the Cheonjiwonyeong upon my heart, the world must have been restructured.

Then when exactly did that restructuring occur?

It might have been seventeen years ago, the moment I was born, or perhaps even earlier.

Whenever it was, the world as a whole must have been remade, and as time passed little by little, by the time I was living as the Sub-Palace Lord of Seolap—when I was seventeen years old—if I had recalled the memories of my previous life as if awakening them...

Then I truly am a reincarnator.

I had mulled over it again and again.

Why was it precisely then, during the time I was Seolap’s Sub-Palace Lord, the moment I faced Ya Unsang?

The timing was just too appropriate. That was truly the last moment when the wrongs could still be corrected.

Regression and reincarnation are alike, and yet not the same.

It’s not simply a matter of turning back time to begin anew; even if one awakens memories that don't exist in the newly structured world, it’s still not quite the same.

The absence of the Cheonjiwonyeong before me, the contents Seolheon left behind, and even what ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) the Goseung Seonsa once told me—

If I were to weave all of these things into a single thread, then this hypothesis must be the correct one.

However, as with all things in the world, whenever one problem is resolved, another arises in its place.

Why is this reincarnation and not a regression? Why did the Millennium Demonic Sect regard this not merely as something to be guarded, but as the ultimate stronghold?

I didn’t want to approach it as a purely philosophical matter.

Surely, there must be some reason why I should be called a reincarnator—but I didn’t know what it was.

My mind spun furiously, but even so, nothing came to light.

I decided to stop thinking about it for now.

All phenomena must have their reasons.

They would be revealed in due time. Or perhaps I would come to understand them through what is to come.

There was no need to rush.

I returned to the book.

There was more written after that.

Cheonjiwonyeong - Silent Contemplation

O primeval shadow of Heaven and Earth, gaze in silence.

Spacetime Intersection - Formless Transition

Time and space intersect, transferring formlessly.

Ten Thousand Laws Return to One - Birth and Death Renewed

The laws of all phenomena return to One, and birth and death begin anew.

Supreme and Secret - Scarlet Light of Life

O light of life, supremely lofty and deeply hidden.

This looked like a poem. Perhaps it was part of the scriptures of the Millennium Demonic Sect, or else some fragment of enlightenment Seolheon had left behind.

I couldn’t say for sure, but for now, I committed it to memory and turned the page.

It was blank.

So this is all there is.

That’s what I thought—until the moment I went to close the book.

At the bottom corner of the final page, I saw letters.

I write this on the third day of the third month in the Gapjin Year.

Three hundred and fifty years from now, on the first day of the twelfth lunar month in the Sinmi Year, when three stars line up in a straight row and a violet aura rises from the east at night—

At the third quarter of the hour of the Rat, when the rooster crows once, a secret realm will open in Baekhyeon-ri, Dahwa County.

There, obtain the heart technique and train it.

Should you miss this time, you will have to wait until the next Opening of Heaven.

When the Gapjin Year comes once more, on the first day of the twelfth lunar month, at the same time, the gate containing heavenly secrets shall open for the second time.

The moment I read this, I could do nothing but sit there, stunned as though struck by lightning.

One day in my previous life—

Commander Seong had spoken to me with a grave expression.

“Young Master... please, don’t ask. Just do as I say.”

His voice had been truly earnest.

“The first day of the twelfth lunar month in the Gapjin Year will come. Three stars will align in a straight row, and a violet aura will rise from the east at night. At the third quarter of the hour of the Rat, a secret realm will open in Baekhyeon-ri, Dahwa County.”

His words were deadly serious.

“Today, Young Master, you will leave Seolgung. I will make that happen. Don’t worry about pursuers or anything like that. I’ll shake them all off.”

His slightly reddened eyes had gripped my shoulders.

“You must keep this in mind. You are not running away. You are simply walking your own path. Even if I die, I will watch over that path. Please... become a man who will not be ashamed, and command the martial world. If it’s you, Young Master, I know you can.”

That’s right.

In my past life, my father had ultimately discovered this secret realm.

Then why didn’t he use the Cheonjiwonyeong?

Had he used it, he could have lived another life like I did and changed so many things.

But he didn’t.

That part puzzled me—but knowing what kind of man my father was, answering that question was as easy as moving my fingers.

To make a deal with someone using the Cheonjiwonyeong, or to use it himself—

Whatever he might have tried, the reality of Seolgung would never change.

He accepted, just as Seolheon had wished, that he was not the one meant to use the Cheonjiwonyeong, and chose to hide its existence.

And if there was someone to use it—

It had to be me. He believed that.

Maybe it was because he knew my potential. Maybe he cherished me. Or maybe neither—maybe I was simply the only one left he could gamble on.

Even so, it was fine.

Being counted on—just that alone was enough.

The result speaks for itself.

My father’s choice was the right one.

I gently set the book down and closed my eyes.

My chest felt warm.

Because I could feel my father’s heart.

***

Unhwi now picked up the remaining book.

If one of the two had been about the Cheonjiwonyeong and a letter to his descendant who would find this place, then what was the other?

Unhwi opened the first page and began to read.

This is a draft of the Ice-Snow Heart Sutra.

Remember well the three principles it contains—again and again.

The Ice-Snow Heart Sutra.

This was the name of the scripture once used by the Northern Sea Ice Palace, which was annihilated during the Millennium Turmoil.

But the word "draft" made Unhwi’s eyes gleam. Everyone knew that the Everlasting Snow Palace succeeded the legacy of the Northern Sea Ice Palace.

However, it had always been said that the glory of the past Northern Sea Ice Palace far eclipsed the current one. Whether that was nostalgia coloring history, no one could say.

Still, every moment, the Everlasting Snow Palace had been compared to the Northern Sea Ice Palace.

It was the same logic as how the successor can never surpass the predecessor. But if one could obtain the draft of the Ice-Snow Heart Sutra, that alone would be enough to lay the foundation to overtake the old Northern Sea Ice Palace.

Above all, wasn’t the Ice-Snow Heart Sutra the very scripture that formed the basis of the current Everlasting Snow Palace’s internal text—the Mansul Complete Record, taught only to bloodline members?

Unhwi quietly continued to read the scripture.

Dense with astonishing passages, many of them were clearly similar to the Mansul Complete Record in several respects.

Yet this was on an entirely higher plane of martial knowledge, and it even included multiple ways to improve the current Mansul Complete Record.

Especially notable were the sword techniques, palm techniques, and footwork included—strikingly similar to those of the legendary sect ‘Kunlun,’ known to have been the Millennium Demonic Sect’s greatest foe before its fall.

It seemed highly likely that the original Northern Sea Ice Palace had exchanged knowledge with Kunlun many times.

Unhwi turned the pages—again and again.

It had no end.

Just as Seolheon had said, the Ice-Snow Heart Sutra was divided into three chapters.

The important thing was—these three chapters had no titles.

It was a natural flow.

Unhwi decided it was appropriate to give each of these three chapters a title.

There were some things he couldn’t understand, but far more that he could grasp completely.

That was enough to justify naming them.

Unhwi named the first chapter Spirit of Eternal Emptiness, the second chapter Spirit of Frozen Celestial Bloom, and the third and final chapter Spirit of Piercing the Great Void.

And then—

Letters began to appear on the once-blank back pages.

It was a truly astonishing experience.

Before Yin and Yang split, there was the One Qi of Chaos.

Above Chaos and before the Supreme Ultimate.

Neither existence nor nonexistence; both existence and nonexistence.

Neither emptiness nor form; both emptiness and form.

This is called the Realm Beyond the Three Realms—also the Realm Without Borders.

When snow melts and ice dissolves, all shall return to origin.

He wiped his face.

What was this?

When it came to martial techniques, Unhwi’s knowledge was extensive.

To his eyes, these passages were excessively abstruse—intertwined with teachings from Buddhism, ancient Taoism, and Confucianism, jumbled together.

And yet... there was a sense of cohesion.

It was unmistakably a martial doctrine of ascension.

The martial way of someone at the level of a Sole Sovereign of Chaos—so far beyond comprehension that it defied understanding.

Then, one final short line emerged.

This scripture is incomplete—yet the one who awakens shall obtain it.

Just what is one meant to obtain?

What had Seolheon hoped to convey through this draft?

Though Unhwi had never met Seolheon in person, he could guess what kind of man he was.

Beyond meticulous—almost ruthless.

Seolheon rewarded only those who met the standard he had envisioned. For those who failed to meet that standard, he gave nothing.

He may have been an ancestor—but to be honest, it felt a little too harsh.

Unhwi tucked the Ice-Snow Heart Sutra into his sleeve.

He judged that he had obtained everything worth obtaining.

But then, truly—

Was this really all?

As he had said during the game of Go with the Celestial Daoist, Unhwi played Go not just to win, but to understand his opponent.

Whether in battle or anything else, in the end, one had to understand the opponent and see things from their perspective for everything to become clear.

Even here in this secret cave, Unhwi had tried to understand Seolheon.

He hadn’t bothered to analyze him without reason.

Unhwi’s intuition was shouting at him.

There was more.

He slowly began to walk.

He looked around carefully to see if anything was out of place.

To begin with, for such a cave to exist, there had to be an entrance—but no entrance was visible.

Not something like “finding a hidden entrance”—Unhwi already knew how to leave this place.

From the moment he entered, he had felt it instinctively.

This was a structure where, if you knew how to enter, the method of exiting would naturally reveal itself.

By reversing the flow of the energy he had used when entering, he could leave.

That part was clear.

And that’s exactly why it was strange.

How had this cave been made?

No entrance? Maybe. But then why here? The location was toward the lower center of the Snow Mountain.

How had this place been discovered? Why this spot?

Those questions lodged themselves firmly in his mind.

It was certain.

There had to be a purpose.

Unhwi began inspecting the cave walls carefully.