Kang— Kagakak! Kagang!

Each time the red energy clashed with the white, a blinding flash split the air.

Even without pouring out their full strength, the two warriors’ power shook the entire training hall.

“You insolent disciple! This master will teach you a lesson!”

Seop Mugwang unleashed his secret art, the Thunder-Wind Sword Technique.

His blade blazed forth with force from every angle, like lightning crackling across the skies.

Kakakakang! Kaka-kakang!

Seolhwa met his sword with the Heavenly Thunder Divine Sword.

The Heavenly Thunder Divine Sword was an evolved form of the Thunder-Wind Sword Technique—a superior sword art born from what Seop Mugwang had once taught her.

And yet—

“Did I not tell you it was still unripe? An immature sword is worthless before one that has fully matured!”

Kakakakakakang!

Their blades clashed dozens of times in the blink of an eye.

Though Seolhwa’s swordsmanship surpassed the very technique it was based upon, Seop Mugwang did not yield.

No—each exchange pressed her back ever so slightly, but undeniably.

“...!”

“Kuhahaha! Too light, too light!”

He pressed her hard.

Never expecting to be overpowered while using the Heavenly Thunder Divine Sword, Seolhwa had entered the match with her full strength—

Kaaang!

—but Seop Mugwang knocked her blade aside.

She did not lose her sword, but she could not withstand the rebound and was sent flying back.

In that instant, his blade leveled at her throat.

“Do you see now? The greatness of this master.”

Seolhwa frowned faintly.

“Weren’t you supposed to be teaching me?”

“Did you not grasp the lesson? What matters is not the level of the martial art, but the level of the one wielding it.”

Seop Mugwang withdrew his blade with a chuckle.

“In the jianghu, there are always fools who rely only on the prestige of the techniques they’ve learned. Especially those sect brats, drunk on the name of their lineage.”

Those with high status in great sects, who learn supreme martial arts yet wield them poorly.

“No matter how outstanding the art, if the one practicing it cannot truly make it his own, it’s no different from a third-rate technique.”

What use is a fine robe if it does not fit the one wearing it?

Seop Mugwang tapped his own head with a finger.

“Remember this: when you face such men, answer them with your perfected sword. Even a basic sword form will do—what matters is your confidence.”

An incomplete blade always holds gaps.

A hollow boulder will split before a solid stone.

“This is how you deal with brats who can’t understand their own martial arts....”

He shrugged.

“But when it comes to true masters who can make anything their own at a glance, nothing compares to a supreme art. So do not neglect your studies either.”

“Yes.”

“Good. I must see your grandfather now, so that’s enough for today.”

Seolhwa bowed with fists clasped and asked:

“Isn’t Grandfather supposed to be teaching my father martial arts these days?”

“For the time being, that will be difficult.”

“Why?”

“Hm.”

Seop Mugwang scratched his chin.

With a short sigh, he explained:

“He expended too much inner force treating me. He’ll need time to recuperate.”

Seolhwa’s lips parted slightly.

She had known the treatment consumed much energy—but to such a degree?

‘Truly... if it hadn’t been Grandfather, no one else could have done it.’

Now she understood why, when Namgoong Hyeok, Lord of the Black Dragon Unit, offered to take over the True Energy Guidance, the Divine Doctor had flatly refused.

“As the one who received the treatment, it may sound strange, but until he recovers I’ll have to watch over him. Even if he’s told to rest, he’s far too busy a man.”

Indeed, Mucheon had returned immediately to clan affairs as soon as Seop’s treatment concluded.

And with the assembly only half a month away, the urgency was undeniable.

“Ah, that’s right—you depart today, don’t you?”

Seolhwa nodded.

“Yes. I already sent word ahead to Surochae. I’ll just go quickly with Ryeong and return.”

“Good. Quicker is better. Be careful. Trust no one lightly, and follow no one thoughtlessly.”

“I’m not a child.”

“You think only children are in danger? That... what was it, the Sado Union? Word is that black path scum are ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) running rampant. Keep your eyes sharp!”

“...Yes. I will.”

“Then I’ll be going.”

Seop Mugwang turned and left the training hall.

As his mutter of, “It’s a dangerous world indeed,” drifted back, Seolhwa clicked her tongue.

‘The Sado Union is hardly something to fear.’

But since it was a black path coalition, perhaps it was inevitable they thought so.

Even children in the streets wore Sado Union masks for play these days.

‘The orthodox still have far to go before their perception changes.’

She would have to tell Old Master Okmyeon to sell the masks a little cheaper—

and to spread more tales of the Sado Union’s good deeds.

In time...

‘Things will change, little by little.’

****

“The Union Lord will eat now!”

Anhui branch of the Sado Union.

Seolhwa descended straight into the underground dungeon.

Waiting there were the Hao Sect Lord and the Sado Union’s Chief Strategist, who stepped forward to greet her.

“We greet the Union Lord.”

“You have arrived, Union Lord.”

Seolhwa gave a brief nod.

“This way.”

The Hao Sect Lord led her through the passage.

They entered the innermost cell of the dungeon.

Clang—

The iron bars opened, revealing a man huddled in the corner, shivering.

Two of the Sado Union’s men dragged him forward, seizing his arms and thrusting him before Seolhwa.

“Sp-spare me...!”

She looked down on him.

Pressing her foot onto the hand he had planted on the ground, the man shrieked, trembling violently.

“Raise your head.”

He lifted it.

In his quivering eyes was reflected the masked visage of the Sado Union Lord.

“They say you sought the Clan Head of Namgoong’s sword.”

This was the very physician who, during her absence from the Namgoong Clan, had tried to demand ten thousand lives as the price for Seop Mugwang’s treatment.

With information obtained through Cheongun, she had tracked and captured him via the Hao Sect.

“What did you promise to pay in exchange for that sword?”

Shaking, the man stammered:

“T-the Lord of Namgoong Clan’s Martial Unit... he was crippled, an inner force cripple...! I-I was to cure him... and r-receive the sword...!”

Crunch.

“Guaaagh!!”

Seolhwa pressed down on his hand, crouching low.

“Where did you get that information?”

The fact that Seop Mugwang had lost his inner force had been kept secret within the clan.

“I-it was an... accident! A stranger came to me and told me... said if I could cure the ailment, I could extort anything from the Namgoong Clan...! Guaaagh!!”

Her foot pressed too hard; several bones in his hand snapped.

Seolhwa glanced down coldly, then continued.

“Who was he?”

“I-I don’t know! Please! Believe me—Aaaghh!! I don’t know! Truly!!”

When she finally lifted her foot, the man clutched his mangled hand to his chest, sobbing.

Her voice cut through, icy and merciless.

“Tell me everything you know of him. If you wish to live, you would do well not to hide even the smallest detail.”

“I-I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you everything—just spare my life...!”

****

Ssshhhhh— Swaaahhh—

Sailing toward Surochae on the boat prepared through the Hao Sect.

Seolhwa turned over the man’s words in her mind.

“He wore a mask. Beneath it, from brow to neck, a long scar. He reeked of a foul stench. And his gait was... unnatural. That is all I know. Please believe me.”

That was all the information he had given.

But the man had been terrified, and under the pressure of her killing intent—unlikely he had lied.

Only one figure came to mind.

‘The Blood Lord of Corpses (사 혈주).’

In her past life, she remembered the Corpse Blood Lord bearing a scar beneath his mask running to his nape.

But would such a one stoop to whisper Namgoong Clan secrets into a physician’s ear?

To attack the clan outright, perhaps. But to meddle in such trifles?

And the reek, the unnatural gait—

‘That is the mark of jiangshi.’

Did the Corpse Blood Lord send a jiangshi to spread the information?

But no—

the man had said the figure spoke to him.

A jiangshi cannot speak.

Then what of the stench? The gait? The scar?

Had the Corpse Blood Lord come himself?

Swaaaah— Shooooshhh—

Nothing could yet be certain.

Only one thing was clear.

‘Someone is targeting the Namgoong Clan.’

Since returning, she had let herself believe Namgoong had no enemies.

Yet if she were not here, the Blood Demon Cult would inevitably set its sights on them.

And she herself had once been the Blood Demon Cult’s Young Lord.

To the Blood Demon, Namgoong Clan was a thorn in the eye.

‘How could I ever think he would leave them be?’

Careless.

At least she now knew. Knowing meant she could prepare.

Nothing had happened yet.

Swooooshhh— Ssshhhhh—

The boat sliced swiftly through the currents of the Yangtze.

Thanks to the prearranged blue and yellow flags fluttering on its mast, Surochae’s boats did not block her passage.

Unhindered, she reached her destination in a single night’s journey.

It was the second morning since leaving the clan.

In the distance, the banners of Surochae came into view.