I only wished for the two of them to live.

And when the time came to fight the Blood Demon, I only hoped to lend them even a little strength.

Yet the result is Ouyang Do’s power?

If the highest-standing force in today’s martial world—Ouyang Do’s backing—comes to our side, isn’t that the very leverage that can move the Martial Alliance itself?

“...Do you truly trust me? Even though I’m young and have no standing to speak of?”

“If even a newborn tries to walk the right path, no one has the right to block that child’s way. If the road you mean to take is the right path, then as an elder I must help you.”

Ouyang Do chuckled as if it were only natural.

“Still, I was a little surprised you’re the Sado Union Lord. Is that also to oppose Hwaoru?”

Seolhwa nodded.

“I meant to stop the Unorthodox from being absorbed by Hwaoru. Rallying strength was the extra.”

“Impressive. I didn’t expect you to be using the Imoogi’s power like that. It suits you rather well.”

Namgoong Mucheon, who had been listening, cleared his throat—hem—and cut in.

“Whatever anyone says, Seolhwa is a child of the Namgoong.”

“I know it well.”

A shadow of discomfort crossed Namgoong Mucheon’s face.

It seemed he did not exactly like the fact that Seolhwa was the Sado Union Lord.

‘Grandfather is orthodox to the marrow.’

Why else had I tried so hard to erase the traces of Blood qi before returning to the Namgoong?

Because I worried I’d be cast out the moment I came home.

‘If I think about that, Grandfather’s changed a great deal.’

He’s worked that much to accept me.

I’m that much grateful, and that much fortified.

“What do you plan to do later?”

Ouyang Do asked, as if genuinely curious.

“In the future, a time will come when you must choose between the clan and the Sado Union, will it not? Have you ever wrestled with that?”

He asked it as if it were obvious that Seolhwa would one day become Clan Head of the Namgoong.

Seolhwa blinked.

“I...”

Namgoong Mucheon looked at her.

A trace of expectation flickered in his expression.

“I’ve never wrestled with that.”

“Well, I suppose it’s early yet to—”

“I could never lay claim to the Namgoong Clan Head’s seat.”

“...What?”

“Seolhwa.”

She turned to Namgoong Mucheon.

A faint smile touched her lips.

“Grandfather. You know. I have no right to covet the main house’s lordship.”

How could the one who annihilated everything of the Namgoong Clan in a former life dare be responsible for the clan?

Though she returned to life and changed much in the main house, that one thing—the Clan Head’s seat—was something Seolhwa could never presume to reach for.

“I do not think so.”

Namgoong Mucheon met her eyes, firm.

“Whatever you were before, the you who stands now is fully qualified to bear the main house.”

Seolhwa’s lips curved, just a touch.

“Seolhwa.”

Her gaze lowered.

That one thing.

The lordship of the Namgoong Clan—

That alone was a seat Seolhwa herself could not permit.

Namgoong Mucheon let out a low sigh.

“We’ll speak of this again later.”

He stepped back a pace, knowing he could not turn Seolhwa’s heart right now.

“It seems I’ve blundered.”

Ouyang Do gave an awkward, gentle laugh.

“What happened today?”

Just as the air began to grow awkward, Namgoong Mucheon shifted the subject and asked Seolhwa,

“How did you know the Blood Sect meant to spread a miasma?”

“Ah.”

Seolhwa took something from her bosom and set it on the table.

It was the scrap of cloth the long-scarred bamboo-hatted man had left behind.

“Have you seen this sigil before?”

The three of them studied the emblem on the cloth Seolhwa had produced.

Namgoong Mucheon and Gong Cheon showed the faces of men seeing it for the first time; only Ouyang Do seemed to half-recognize it.

“I do recall seeing it, but I can’t remember where. Where did you get it?”

Seolhwa tapped the cloth.

“There was someone who told me Hwaoru’s scheme. A man in a bamboo hat with a long scar down to his jaw. I didn’t know him. This cloth is the only piece of information he left.”

Seolhwa briefly recounted her encounter with the long-scarred bamboo-hatted man.

“So that’s why you abruptly forfeited during the tournament.”

“Yes.”

Namgoong Mucheon nodded slowly.

A long-scarred bamboo-hatted man.

A cloth with an unknown sigil.

“I’ve no bearing on it at all. Do you know anything more?”

“He was strong.”

Seolhwa recalled facing him.

His martial presence had been so threatening it made the hair on her body stand on end.

“He might be as strong as those present here.”

“A master of Heaven Beyond Heaven, you mean?”

“I don’t know. He was beyond what I could gauge.”

All she had was conjecture.

The feeling, facing him, had been similar to when she first stood before Ouyang Do and Gong Cheon.

Ouyang Do rubbed his chin with a low hum.

“If it’s a master of Heaven Beyond Heaven, I know of two.”

Namgoong Mucheon looked startled.

“There are two more at that realm?”

“One is the Heavenly Demon—the leader of the Heavenly Demon Divine Sect. And the other... I ran into by chance when I was at Mount Hua. Come to think of it, I believe he wore a mask.”

“!”

Seolhwa quickly nodded.

“Yes. He wore a half-mask.”

“Then it seems that’s the one.”

“Do you know him?”

Could we meet him again?

But Ouyang Do shook his head.

“I only met him by chance; I don’t know his movements. Even then, we merely sensed each other’s presence and didn’t really speak.”

“Ah...”

Seolhwa lowered her head, disappointed.

In the end, she had gained no information about the man.

He’d seemed to know something.

‘Do I have to go to Mount Hua?’

“I’ll go to Mount Hua.”

As if he’d read her thoughts, Ouyang Do spoke, and Seolhwa looked at him in surprise.

“The last place you saw him was Mount Hua, was it not? I may at least find a trace. I’ll go.”

“You would go yourself, elder?”

“Isn’t he someone we need to find?”

Seolhwa’s eyes trembled.

As if to prove his promise to help wasn’t empty, Ouyang Do was already striving to give that help.

“Who else could recognize the traces of ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) that man? It’s no great task. I’ll leave at first light.”

Grateful and fortified by that sight, Seolhwa broke into a bashful smile—

Thinking how truly fortunate it was she could save those two.

****

Yunnan Province, Kunming.

Beneath Hwaoru—the Blood Sect’s underground base.

Tak, Tak, Tadatak.

The clatter of an abacus echoed through the undercroft.

The Owner of the Second Moon Medallion, Hidden Moon, leaned askew against the wall and wordlessly watched the woman flicking the abacus.

A face veiled in black gauze, and below it lips painted a dark, blood-red.

Long nails with a wash of violet.

She was Mo-wol, the Owner of the Fourth Moon Medallion and Hwaoru’s strategist.

Her martial skill was somewhat lacking, but her superior stratagems and talent for running Hwaoru had earned her a Moon’s place in the Blood Demon’s eyes.

It had been her head that planted agents inside the Central Plains factions and designed the cloak to keep the Blood Sect from exposure—but one by one, the schemes she had laid were coming to nothing.

Tak, Tadatak, Tak.

“Another failure, then. What will you tell the Lord?”

Hidden Moon’s voice mixed with the abacus clicks.

The abacus fell still for a beat, then resumed.

The woman’s blood-darkened lips curled with a thin, fishy smile.

“If not for the Green Forest War King’s betrayal, it would have succeeded.”

Because that fool hesitated at the end, the work had fallen through.

The original plan was to use the Green Forest to spread the miasma, but at the last moment the War King pulled his foot back and the couriers vanished.

They did coax up a few serviceable couriers with silver and sweet words, but the reduced number made trouble.

They had to bind them with black cloth, and their identities were too easily exposed.

“Only, I find it strange. How did the Sado Union Lord know of the plan to spread the miasma...?”

And she knew the very kind of miasma our sect made.

How did the Sado Union Lord, who hadn’t shown her nose anywhere, sniff out my design and appear to wreck the operation?

“If the Lord learns of this, he will be gravely disappointed.”

Taka-dak—chak, tak.

The woman’s fingers quickened on the abacus.

The Blood Demon does not favor the Twelve Moons running wild.

The Twelve Moons exist to carry out what the Blood Demon commands to perfection, not to indulge themselves.

However, if the deed is for the Blood Demon and it succeeds, he does not chastise harshly.

In that sense, had this one succeeded, not only would the Martial Alliance’s reputation have plunged, but the relations between the Sado Union and the Alliance could have soured as well.

Had that happened, surely the Blood Demon’s lost trust would have been restored.

Tatak, chak—

“All because of that traitor, the Young Union Lord—”

KWAK—!

The woman’s hand stopped dead.

Before the abacus she’d been tapping—

A silver throwing knife quivered, sunk into the tabletop.

“Mind your tongue. The Lord still recognizes that person as the Young Union Lord.”

“...”

The blood-dark lips hardened to ice.

A short silence fell.

Tak. Tadat.

Her hand began to move again, slowly.

“Come to think of it, it was the Shadowless Demon God who ruined Lord Fourth Blood’s affair as well.”

Her fury toward the Young Union Lord swung back toward the Sado Union Lord, the Shadowless Demon God.

“The Lord meant to seize Chor Yeon of the Blood-King Poison and seat her as Hwaoru’s Medicine Hall Lord, and that plan was dashed as well.”

Because the Shadowless Demon God appeared and stopped it, they lost both the Blood-King Poison and their killers.

“Thanks to that, Hwaoru’s losses aren’t small.”

Chakagak, takak, tararak—

“What are you plotting this time?”

“Plotting? I’m only ever pondering what most benefits our Hwaoru. You know this, Hidden Moon.”

“...”

Tadadadak. Chakak, chakak, chakak.

The woman’s hand sped faster over the abacus.

“Shadowless Demon God, Shadowless Demon God...”

Takak. Takak. Takak. Takak. Takak. Takak.

Takaktakaktakaktakaktakak.

TARARARARARARARARAK—

TAK—!

At last, she flicked the final bead.

She set the abacus on edge and tapped it to the floor—TANG—and all the beads she’d tallied slid down in a single rush.

“I’ve thought of something good.”

Hidden Moon’s gaze, fixed on Mo-wol, sank cold.

“What now?”

The woman’s lips drew a graceful arc.

“We petition the Lord to install the Shadowless Demon God as a new Blood Lord.”