RUMMMMMBLE...

The entire pavilion trembled as though shaking from its foundations.

Even the table between the two began to rattle, teacups clinking against each other with sharp, metallic sounds.

Yet Zhuge Myeong showed not the slightest trace of fear or confusion.

In fact, compared to when he had confirmed she was the Demon Alliance Mistress, he now seemed more composed.

“You brought someone all the way here, and now you try to send them away with a simple ‘it doesn’t exist’? Isn’t that a bit insincere?”

“I truly mean it. That piece was never meant to be found by any one person in the first place.”

The Celestial Palace Ghost Head and the cave on Mount Hua—

Both were difficult to locate, and finding the hidden treasures within was no easy feat either.

Besides, even if one obtained the elixir from the Ghost Head, who would’ve guessed it was one of the essential components for mastering Wall Poison Steel Qi?

Most would’ve assumed it was for enhancing internal energy or simply used it as a potent antidote.

To find both treasures, master the technique, pass through the poisonous formation, and reach this place—

There were simply too many variables.

Practically impossible.

“I was sure no one would ever come. That’s why I never prepared a third piece.”

“...”

“That was my mistake. The recklessness of my youth led you here on a futile journey.”

The recklessness of youth.

Zhuge Myeong referred to the creation of the hidden chambers during his days as Manrishintu as youthful folly.

As if to say it had all been a mere game.

“As you can see, I now live a secluded life. I hope you’ll be satisfied with gaining Wall Poison Steel Qi thanks to me.”

A clear dismissal.

Yet the way Zhuge Myeong said it—there was a weariness in his expression, and perhaps... a trace of sorrow.

“A final trial, is it?”

At Seolhwa’s question, his brow furrowed.

“There is no trial.”

“Or is it that you really believe I don’t know what the final piece is?”

“...!”

“You’re telling me to be satisfied and go back, when the last piece is right before my eyes?”

“What are you talking about?”

Seolhwa dipped her finger into the tea and began to write on the table.

She drew the first character: 天 (Cheon, Heaven).

“The Celestial Palace Ghost Head was the piece of Heaven.”

Then she wrote the second character: 地 (Ji, Earth).

“The cave hidden in earth—was the piece of Earth.”

Finally, she drew 人 (In, Human), and looked straight at Zhuge Myeong.

“The only thing left... is the Human.”

“...”

“When Heaven and Earth are connected through Humanity, that becomes the world itself.”

Beneath her mask, the corners of Seolhwa’s lips curled in a soft arc.

“If you’re not the final piece, then who is?”

Cheon. Ji. In. Heaven. Earth. Human.

The Celestial Palace Ghost Head, symbolizing Heaven, and the formation in the earth-like cave, symbolizing Earth—these were no arbitrary trials.

And now, the one awaiting her at the end of the road she reached by breaking through both trials—

The final piece was Zhuge Myeong himself.

“Do you still insist it doesn’t exist?”

All along, Zhuge Myeong had been waiting for someone to find him.

For a very, very long time.

Someone who could defy all odds and come for him—someone he could dedicate his entire life to serving.

“Become mine, Manrishintu. You yourself said that to possess you is to possess the world. Then let me take the world—by taking you.”

Zhuge Myeong lowered his eyes.

He stared into the tea, now cold and without steam, and saw his own reflection.

As many years had passed in solitude to protect his crumbling clan, so too had his once-young face aged without him realizing.

He stared at himself for a long moment before letting out a faint, empty laugh.

“...I admired him.”

Seolhwa listened in silence.

“The life of our ancestor, Zhuge Liang. Born in a time of chaos, wielding the fate of the world and fulfilling his will.”

“...”

“Because I admired him, I lived my life with the world in my heart since childhood. Even if I could never be him, I at least wanted to imitate the shadow of his footsteps.”

“For someone like that, you made quite a name for yourself as a great thief.”

She had never heard that Zhuge Liang engaged in thievery.

Zhuge Myeong let out a dry chuckle and nodded.

“Indeed. Life doesn’t always go the way you hope. Becoming a thief happened by chance. I only wanted to help the suffering.”

Skilled in mechanical traps and formations, it was easy for him to scale clan walls and erase his traces.

With just a simple formation, he could throw an entire household into chaos.

It all started when he tried to help an elderly couple, who were about to die after being unjustly stripped of their assets.

That moment eventually led him to become known as Manrishintu.

“But even then, I always longed to live as a strategist, under a master worthy of service.”

He had wandered the world in search of such a master.

But then, crisis struck the Zhuge Clan, and he had no choice but to return upon the family’s call.

“When I answered the clan’s call, I realized I could never be free again. And it was then I understood—our ancestor didn’t choose his lord.”

Three Visits to the Thatched Cottage.

The idiom that refers to Liu Bei’s three visits to recruit Zhuge Liang.

Zhuge Myeong never expected anyone to come for him three times.

But he did want to test them—his own way.

If someone passed all three trials and found him, he would serve them, no matter who they were.

“Only... I hadn’t meant for that person to walk the path of the Black Way.”

His gaze hardened, as if sealing his resolve.

“Our ancestor chose Liu Bei because of his Han imperial blood. If it were someone else, no matter how many visits, be it three or even ten, he would not have followed.”

“...”

“I want to serve someone worthy. I want to right the world, not twist it.”

The Black Path was a twisted one.

It was a path chosen by those who forsook righteousness in favor of personal gain, despite knowing better.

Zhuge Myeong didn’t want to use his abilities for those who walked that path.

“But still, one must reap what one sows. I’ll take responsibility for planting the wrong seed.”

“How do you intend to do that?”

“...I’ll take my own life.”

“...!”

“I will serve no one. This is the only way I can stay true to my convictions.”

He had once vowed to serve whoever reached him after acquiring the two treasures.

As time passed, that childish vow became a purpose—then a belief.

Now, faced with the threat of that belief being tainted by darkness, Zhuge Myeong had chosen death to protect it.

He looked as if he might take his life at any moment.

And as she gazed at him, Seolhwa finally opened her mouth.

“That’s not how I see it.”

“What do you mean?”

“If it hadn’t been Liu Bei but someone else who visited him... I believe Master Kongming would still have left his thatched cottage.”

“And why would you think that?”

“Because that cottage... was never fit to contain a dragon.”

Zhuge Liang wasn’t called the Sleeping Dragon simply because Liu Bei came for him.

He was already called that before their meeting, already preparing to soar.

“Even if Liu Bei had never visited him, his name would not have vanished from history. Don’t you agree?”

No one can predict what didn’t happen.

But likewise, if logic holds, it cannot be denied either.

If someone else had sought out Zhuge Liang, would he have stayed in that humble cottage and died a hidden dragon?

No one knows.

“If you choose death simply because I’m the leader of the Black Path, then your name will vanish forever too.”

“...”

“Not everyone on the Black Path walks a crooked road. At the very least, the Demon Alliance chooses to bend, but never break.”

That was why Seolhwa had established the Demon Alliance in the first place.

To stop those on the Black Path from being swallowed up by the Blood Demon Cult.

Still, Zhuge Myeong didn’t waver. His conviction was as firm as ever.

And Seolhwa began to understand where Zhuge Hwi’s rigid honesty came from.

“What do you think of the current era?”

“Like a candle flickering in the wind—about to go out at any moment.”

Even his view of the martial world mirrored Zhuge Hwi’s.

Perhaps it was due to the recent affair with Salmak.

The Zhuge Clan members were clearly preparing for an inevitable storm.

“In times of chaos, heroes must rise.”

“And heroes need wings.”

“Will you be my wings?”

“...I must decline.”

Seolhwa hesitated.

The reason she had come in the guise of the Demon Alliance Mistress was to recruit Manrishintu beneath the Demon Alliance’s banner.

She had wanted him to act for their cause—not as Zhuge Myeong, but as Manrishintu.

But the man before her—Zhuge Myeong—did not wish to live that way.

“For a thief, you’re rather chivalrous.”

“...”

If she left him now, Zhuge Myeong would surely choose death.

Which meant Seolhwa had to make a decision of her own.

“If I weren’t the head of the Black Path, but someone from the Orthodox Way... what then?”

She ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ made up her mind to reveal her true identity.

“If that were the case, I would have followed you without hesitation.”

“Would you swear to that?”

Zhuge Myeong furrowed his brows, confused by the question.

Seolhwa took off the mask she had been wearing.