“...A brat not even past the age of twenty... Fine. Then try and withstand this!”

Baek Mujin swung his sword in a wide arc.

This time, with all his strength.

The secret art of the Hyeonwol Sword Technique—Soul-Severing Moon Slash (Wolmyeolhoncham).

A sword art that cast down the moon from the heavens to utterly extinguish the enemy’s soul. Baek Mujin had never once seen anyone survive after beholding it.

Kwaaaaarrrk—!!

This time a massive moon rose into the sky.

From that moon, tens, hundreds of sword-lights poured down toward Unhwi like a crashing waterfall.

And in the middle of this, Unhwi was smiling.

Then, he did something Baek Mujin had not even remotely anticipated.

He drove the Heavenshaking Spiritblade straight into the ground.

Pook.

Even before the sound had faded, Unhwi’s eyes turned pure white.

Cheonseoljise.

Centered on Unhwi, an overwhelming storm of icy qi began to whirl, instantly freezing all the hundreds of sword-lights as they fell.

Jjeojeojeojeok— the sound was that of Baek Mujin’s martial art being destroyed, the same as a death knell before the end of his life as a martial man.

“...Ah...”

Impossible.

This was impossible.

And then—

Unhwi’s hand pulled a dagger from his waist.

The moment he threw it, Baek Mujin twisted his body hard to the side.

Whoooong—!

It missed.

He hadn’t even managed a sigh of relief before a dreadful chill ran down his entire body.

Baek Mujin’s eyes flew wide.

Unhwi was right in front of him.

He had rushed in, closing the distance, and Baek Mujin had realized it a heartbeat too late.

And he realized too late that another dagger had been drawn from Unhwi’s waist.

Unhwi always carried two daggers.

If he had thrown one, of course one remained.

The instant his eyes locked with Unhwi’s cold, sunken gaze, Baek Mujin knew this was the end.

Flash-Void Needle Art (Seomheo Ilcheomsul).

Unhwi’s dagger shot out like a streak of light and pierced through Baek Mujin’s throat.

“Keuhhuk...”

All of Baek Mujin’s movements ceased.

It was over.

A question clung stubbornly to his mind.

Was this plan truly flawless?

Unhwi’s weakness was certainly stamina. If a Mythic Realm martial man like Baek Mujin, together with a hundred warriors, charged at him, then in some way Unhwi would inevitably be subdued.

And yet with a single formation, everything had been overturned.

The hundred warriors had been thrown into confusion, unable to act properly, and in an ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) instant two Harmonization Realm experts had been lost.

And now he himself had been lost.

A monster... he’s a monster.

A realization close to despair settled upon Baek Mujin.

Cheonrasaljin—the Heaven’s Net Formation that dragged all things to death.

Only now did he understand that its name was no empty boast.

“You’ve been fixated on your chest from earlier.”

Unhwi naturally reached into Baek Mujin’s robes and pulled out a small box.

When he opened it slightly, a blood-red parasite squirmed within.

Unhwi’s eyes glimmered.

“The Millennium Blood-Heart Gu?”

Baek Mujin’s eyes asked, How did you know? But Unhwi had no intention of answering.

Silently, he twisted the dagger.

Puhkuk— with that sound, Baek Mujin’s eyes rolled back.

His body collapsed lifelessly to the ground. Unhwi retrieved his dagger, then tucked the Millennium Blood-Heart Gu into his sleeve.

So long as he had it, it would prove useful someday.

He turned his head.

“Kkyaaaaagh!”

There lay Jang Cheonun, screaming as he fell to the ground.

His right arm was severed, and everything below his right thigh was gone.

Their eyes met, and Jang Cheonun begged.

“Help me! Please!! I’ll swear absolute loyalty!!”

Unhwi smirked faintly, turned, and pulled the Heavenshaking Spiritblade from the ground.

But when he looked back at Jang Cheonun, his head had already exploded.

Bloodied from head to toe, Commander Seong looked at Unhwi and spoke briefly.

“Half an hour. It’s almost up.”

Unhwi nodded and pushed off, Commander Seong doing the same.

While Unhwi had dealt with Baek Mujin, Commander Seong had dealt with the others.

No fewer than sixty corpses now littered the ground.

As the two of them moved toward the spot where the formation had first been laid down, Unhwi’s gaze flickered.

His eyes went to the perimeter.

There was Pung Muhwi, face stricken with alarm, pounding at the barrier from the outside.

“Cheonsusa!! Are you all right!!”

***

Back at Pung Sword Pavilion, Pung Muhwi once again received treatment from the pavilion physicians and rested.

But his expression was dark.

For one reason.

Unhwi.

He had just escorted Unhwi and Commander Seong back to the Cheonryong Hall, but those last words from Unhwi kept gnawing at him.

Entrusting him with what remained—by context, it clearly meant there was still unfinished business.

It was unclear.

Could he really afford to just sit and rest like this?

An indefinable unease blanketed his body, his instincts screaming at him that this was no illusion.

Yes, his body still throbbed painfully—

But he couldn’t stand it.

He sprang up from his seat and strode straight toward Cheonryong Hall.

No attendants followed. He didn’t need them.

Here within the Seongjak Union, Pung Muhwi’s authority was practically absolute.

Even with Unhwi installed as Cheonsusa, that fact hadn’t changed. Being the Pavilion Lord of Pung Sword Pavilion, a lineage three hundred years old, meant precisely that.

And yet...

Something felt wrong.

Now that he thought about it, it had already been a full two hours since his return as Seongjak Lord.

Two hours was not a short span.

And in all that time, not a single person from the Seongjak Union had come to see him.

This wasn’t about undermining Unhwi’s authority. The truth was, the majority of the Seongjak Union avoided meeting with Unhwi one-on-one.

From the beginning, Pung Muhwi had always served as the go-between—hearing their concerns and carrying them to Unhwi. That was how things had functioned, and that was how he had said they would continue.

So they should have come to him.

Even if not everyone, at least one or two.

Even if not hall masters, then at least sub-hall masters.

And yet none had come.

Why not?

This was truly strange.

The unease grew heavier.

Cheonryong Hall drew near.

First he sensed an unbalanced flow of qi. Then he smelled the heavy stench of blood.

He immediately leapt forward.

The hall’s interior was wrapped in a massive barrier.

He hadn’t seen one like this before, but he knew what it was.

A formation.

It was semi-transparent, so the inside could be seen—there, countless corpses lay scattered.

Pung Muhwi recognized them as warriors from the Iron Line Hall, the Flower Fragrance Hall, and the River-Heaven Sect. And not far away, a man lay dead with his throat pierced...

His face was oddly familiar.

A name flashed across Pung Muhwi’s mind.

Baek Mujin, the Merciless Dark Sword of the Ihwa Sword Heavenly Sect.

Everything clicked together.

Before he could even unleash his fury, he saw within the barrier Unhwi and Commander Seong rushing toward the central court.

It was certain.

Those damn bastards had joined hands with the Ihwa Sword Heavenly Sect to target the Cheonsusa.

He slammed his palm against the barrier.

“Cheonsusa!! Are you all right!!”

Even before the words left his lips, Unhwi’s voice came to him through a sound transmission.

—Withdraw immediately, ten zhang back.

Before he could answer—

—Now!

Pung Muhwi instantly pushed himself backward. He fell back precisely ten zhang, and was just about to add another five for good measure when his footing slipped.

He couldn’t help it.

Kuuuuuuuuuuuu—!!

With a bizarre sound, the translucent barrier collapsed inward, then unleashed a terrifying storm from within.

Qi forces whirled and raged—

And then with a booming paaaang, they scattered into nothing, as though nothing had happened.

Pung Muhwi saw it.

Corpses flung into the air, slamming into different parts of the Cheonryong Hall. Other warriors, still barely intact, landing hard on the ground.

The spot where Unhwi and Commander Seong had stood was untouched.

And so—

The two of them immediately launched themselves forward, cutting down the survivors before they could recover.

In an instant, four heads flew. Then five more.

Pung Muhwi didn’t hesitate.

His body was still battered, but his desire to aid Unhwi burned stronger.

“I’ll help you!”

He drew his sword and charged in. With just two strikes, he took five heads.

“P-Pavilion Lord... I am Yang Ha of Iron Line Hall, spare m—keuhhak!”

Pung Muhwi drove his sword into the man’s throat. He looked around.

It was over in the blink of an eye.

Pung Muhwi strode straight toward Unhwi.

“What in the world... is going on here?”

“As you see.”

“...”

“The scheme of the Ihwa Sword Heavenly Sect ends here. From the start, their use of the Green Forest brigands was nothing but misdirection.”

Pung Muhwi swallowed hard.

Then...

“You knew?”

“I did.”

“...Since when?”

“I suspected from the beginning. I was certain from the time at Gangbuk Province.”

Pung Muhwi was about to press further when—

“Why did you come?”

“...I was too uneasy not to.”

Unhwi shook his head.

“You may return now.”

“...Is there a reason?”

“Drawing a line here as ‘my affair’ will be better—for the Seongjak Lord, and for you personally.”

Pung Muhwi’s mind whirled.

If Unhwi had known all this, then why had he sent the Heavenly Rakbu to Pung Sword Pavilion?

“...Ah...”

A name flickered through his mind.

Yes.

He must not be let slip in this situation.

Unhwi had acted with reason. More than reason—with perfect logic.

“Judging by your face, you’ve understood. Then return to the pavilion. Your body is still broken—don’t force yourself.”

Pung Muhwi stared at him blankly.

Broken body?

From what he saw, the only one more injured than himself was Unhwi.

By any measure, these were critical wounds. At least a month’s rest would be required. That he was still moving, acting, and giving orders like this was itself a miracle.

Pung Muhwi could not begin to guess this man’s limits.

“...I want to confirm.”

“What?”

“If my thoughts are correct.”

Unhwi drew a packet of Shinsamyeon from his robes and put one between his lips. Commander Seong naturally lit it with Samadhi True Flame. At once, Unhwi took a drag.

“Speak.”