Chapter 200

“You gave it in repayment of a life debt... but I didn’t think you’d use it like this.”

“Hm, I suppose that’s true. You get to see whether he’ll uphold his duty as a warrior and a man... it’s practically a forced move.”

“Exactly. If I don’t follow Hyeon Seollin’s plan here, the reputation of Seolhwa Mountain Villa will be dragged through the mud, and my grandson’s honor will be tarnished too. That would naturally eliminate us from the contest for the Lesser Palace Lord seat. If someone that petty were to take that seat, even his followers would turn their backs on him. In the end, this is poison we have no choice but to swallow.”

“Hah... poison, is it? But you know very well—Muryun never intended to become Lesser Palace Lord in the first place.”

“I know. But look at the current situation.”

Sa Cheonuk’s expression grew slightly grim.

“For the Palace Lord, this gives a perfect justification to appoint Dae Seollin as the Lesser Palace Lord. None of the factions in Seolsan will even think to question it.”

Outsiders might not grasp the full details, but they understood.

“That youngest brat—he’s the one moving the entire palace.”

To be blunt, when Unhwi was facing external enemies, it felt reassuring. But now that he was turning inward, nothing could be more dangerous.

“So, a double-edged sword?”

“...That’s a very gentle way to put it.”

“Heh...”

Sa Cheonuk didn’t bother to deny it.

Seol Unhwi was dangerous.

“The Palace Lord must have his own thoughts. All we need do is follow his decision.”

Man Seokcheong said nothing more.

Nor did Sa Cheonuk.

Before long, warriors of Cheonseolju entered Baekryeong Gorge.

At the very front stood Seol Horyeong, dressed in a white robe stained crimson in several places—an imposing and commanding sight.

After giving Sa Cheonuk and Man Seokcheong a brief nod, he approached the man kneeling on the ground.

“Ma Cheongwon, Pavilion Lord of Baekryeongak.”

The man lifted his head.

“You already know well enough why this is happening, so let’s skip the formalities. Do you want to live?”

“...I do.”

“Then kill me.”

“...What?”

Seol Horyeong gave a crooked {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} grin.

“I won’t refuse a meal served to me, but I should be allowed to complain about the side dishes.”

“...What the hell are you talking about...”

“Kill me. Then you’ll live through today.”

He clearly wasn’t just bluffing—Seol Horyeong released Ma Cheongwon’s sealed pressure points.

“...You’re insane.”

“This is a world where madness is the only way to survive. Oh, and by the way... if you lose, you’re going to die anyway...”

Seol Horyeong paused, then pulled a piece of fabric from his robes and shoved it right in front of Ma Cheongwon’s nose.

“See this name?”

That scrap of cloth belonged to Seol Unhae—it was from the list Unhwi had forced out of him.

Ma Cheongwon’s gaze stopped at the last name written on it.

Pavilion Lord of Seollyeongak: Wi Socheon.

His name was there.

“...So Wi Socheon was discovered after all.”

“That’s right. I gathered some proof, but it wasn’t quite enough. So how about handing me a few more pieces?”

“...I’d never even suspected you were looking into this. Seems you’ve been working hard.”

Seol Horyeong let out a dry laugh.

“You little shit—getting real cheeky all of a sudden, huh?”

“......”

“Fine. If you want to act prideful, go ahead. I’m about to become the Lesser Palace Lord anyway—I can afford to be generous.”

Glancing at Sa Cheonuk and Man Seokcheong, Ma Cheongwon asked:

“...Will you keep your promise?”

“Of course.”

“...You’re going to die before becoming Lesser Palace Lord.”

“No, I won’t.”

“You even know what realm I’m in—”

Seol Horyeong leaned in close.

“Hey.”

A smile tugged at his lips—one that looked disturbingly like a demon’s.

“Why’s your tongue so long? Do I look like I have time to waste?”

Before Ma Cheongwon could react, Seol Horyeong seized the back of his head—

CRAAACK—!!

—and smashed it straight into the ground.

***

Seol Jungcheon, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke.

“So... after Horyeong killed Ma Cheongwon, he took the troops of Cheonseolju, Cheonseolmun, and Seolhwa Mountain Villa with him to Seollyeongak?”

“Yes.”

“And then he sternly rebuked the Pavilion Lord there, challenged him to a life-or-death duel, and killed him?”

“That is correct.”

“Horyeong’s growth is astounding.”

“I think so too. However...”

“You’re thinking he still falls short compared to Unhwi?”

“It’s not exactly that... It’s just that Hyeon Seollin was already someone who once stood at the very peak. So his current moves are... perplexing.”

Hyeonsim wasn’t a fool, and neither was Seol Jungcheon.

They understood exactly what Unhwi was trying to do.

This was far too blatant.

“Are you talking about how he’s making himself into a jagged stone on purpose? Or are you afraid he’ll rise above me?”

Hyeonsim answered with silence, but Seol Jungcheon saw right through him.

“It’s both, isn’t it?”

“...Forgive me.”

He shook his head.

“It’s perfectly understandable. But do not doubt him.”

“Doubt, sir...?”

“Hyeon Seollin’s heart has always been with Seolsan. With me as well—and mine, in turn, has always been with him. You saw it for yourself.”

“......”

“He showed me Seolheon-nim’s sealed cave. He helped me ascend to the Union of Origin and Sovereignty. More than anything, he entrusted you with his secret. So what is it you’re afraid of?”

“...I’m sorry. It’s just...”

“Just?”

Hyeonsim took a short, steady breath, then spoke with resolve.

“I’m afraid that Seolsan will end up splitting in two.”

Unhwi’s worth had already been proven through this incident.

The picture was too perfect.

Unhwi had already killed martial artists far beyond his own cultivation realm, multiple times. That alone was a feat impossible for any ordinary fighter—and now Seol Horyeong had done the same.

Even if high-level masters stood nearby, it was Seol Horyeong who personally defeated the Pavilion Lords of both Baekryeongak and Seollyeongak.

A master at the Ipshin level had crushed a Mythic Realm expert and another warrior on the cusp of the Union of Heaven and Man—in a life-or-death duel?

Clearly, Horyeong’s value rivaled even Unhwi’s.

He had remained on the path of righteousness, cutting away Seolgung’s rot with his own hands—and because of that, all major factions within Seolgung bowed their heads to him.

And Unhwi?

He forged ahead while using Seol Jungcheon’s name—committing forgery to advance his plan and, in the end, aiding what Seol Horyeong set out to do.

He didn’t walk the righteous path, but the path of conquest—and his intent was unmistakable.

“A flawless justification has been created.”

Seol Horyeong, now recognized by all of the Northern Polar Descendants, had displayed the martial strength required and stepped to the forefront. No one could object to him being appointed as Lesser Palace Lord.

It was the perfect timing to fill the seat left vacant for over a decade and unify Seolgung under one banner.

And then—

“You said it was called Cheonyeomeng?”

“Yes.”

“I never expected Yewonja to die so pitifully... but the real problem arose after his death.”

It was understandable that someone would want to rebuild the crumbling Cheonyeomeng. But the fact that the Five Great Sword Clans and the External Sects of Sima were leading the charge?

That changed everything.

Until now, Cheonyeomeng had upheld neutrality—but if these highly aligned factions took control, it could rival the Martial Alliance or the Sichuan Alliance.

In a Murim world where three major forces maintained a delicate balance, they would start making deals with each other, consolidating power, and leaving unaffiliated sects with nowhere to stand.

Especially the Everlasting Snow Palace—possessing so much already, and locked in inevitable war with Yu Cheong’s reborn Celestial Demonic Sect.

This couldn’t be left alone.

They had to step in, seize some gain, and establish a faction. The current path only led to loss, and that had to be reversed.

Which meant—who to send?

The first consideration was clear:

Under no circumstances could it appear that the outer Murim world was invading the central plains.

It needed to seem as though they were just brushing against the issue—establishing minimal involvement for practical gain, but pulling out without hesitation if it came to that.

The candidate had to be someone whose name was already known, but whose cultivation realm was modest—someone deeply practical, fully aware of how the martial world operated.

And the number of people sent could not be dozens or hundreds. That would give the Martial or Sichuan Alliances every reason to interfere.

If Seolgung tried to rule Cheonyeomeng by force, even under the excuse of “rebuilding,” they’d have no way to defend their actions.

In the end—

“...There’s no one but Unhwi.”

No matter how he looked at it, that was the only answer.

Seol Unhwi—there was no one else.

“He even went so far as to forge my name to create the perfect pretext for punishment... Honestly, this is all too convenient.”

“What do you plan to do, sir?”

Exactly ten days had passed. Everyone had moved busily during that time, and Seol Jungcheon had ascended to the Union of Origin and Sovereignty.

Everything was in place.

“Hyeonsim.”

“Yes, Palace Lord.”

“We will hold the Succession Ceremony for the Lesser Palace Lord. Can you prepare it?”

“Of course.”

“Then begin preparations.”

“Should we send invitations to outsiders...?”

“We will not.”

There was something he wanted to ask.

About what would happen to the Baeksul Mourning Legion. He wanted to ask—but the words caught in his throat and never came out.

Because no one would feel the pain more than Seol Jungcheon himself.

“You may go.”

After bowing, Hyeonsim withdrew, and Seol Jungcheon, now alone, slowly rose from his seat.

There was somewhere he had to go.

Beneath the main palace, there was a prison—built long ago.

It was reserved for those whose crimes posed an existential threat to Seolgung itself. For a long time, no one had been imprisoned there.

Seol Jungcheon quietly descended, and found a man sobbing like a broken shell.

It was Yang Seoljin, once the Vice Palace Lord of Seolgung.

“Palace Lord... This must be some kind of misunderstanding... Why are you doing this to me...”

“Are you looking for Cheonjiwonyeong?”

At those words, Yang Seoljin flinched.

“Trying to rebuild the Celestial Demonic Sect... working with Yu Cheong of the Original Blood Sect. Quite the historic undertaking.”

“......”

“And I hear you’re the second generation Lord of Cheonrim. Isn’t it time you took off that mask?”

“Hah...”

Yang Seoljin exhaled—and his gaze turned icy.

He stared coldly at Seol Jungcheon and spoke.

“So the fool who let himself be paralyzed by ancient legends finally came to his senses.”

To Seol Jungcheon, Yang Seoljin’s change in demeanor was not surprising. He had no expectations. Having reached the Union of Origin and Sovereignty, his heart had already turned colder than anything else.

To get angry here would have made even less sense.

“I won’t ask how long you’ve known. Instead, I’ll tell you the one way for you and Seolgung to survive.”

“I’m intrigued.”

“Release me.”

“...Hm?”

“Whatever clues tipped you off, it can’t have been anything recent.”

“......”