After the Sado Union’s affairs were settled, Seolhwa returned to the Namgoong Clan.

As Namgoong Mucheon had ordered, she remained in her quarters under an outing ban and, for the first time in a very long while, devoted herself wholly to the Namgoong clan’s martial arts.

Tak—

Seolhwa carefully set the brush down.

In the book laid open before her, the forms of Heavenly Thunder Divine Sword, Seolhwa’s proprietary art, were organized at a glance.

[It was hard-won. Are you sure you want to leave it as the Namgoong clan’s sword canon?]

The Imoogi asked, sounding a little as though it didn’t quite understand.

Seolhwa smiled faintly, propped her chin on her hand, and stroked the Imoogi’s round head.

“If it can remain as the Namgoong clan’s sword canon, that alone is enough. This isn’t something I achieved by myself.”

Without the Namgoong clan’s martial arts and Seop Mugwang’s arts, this sword canon could never have been forged.

As one of the Namgoong, and as the sole disciple of the Thunder-Wind Deity, Seolhwa wished to leave traces of the arts she had been taught.

Just as, on the day she returned to life and burst into tears for the first time, she had told Seop Mugwang and expressed wonder at the arts of the forebears.

If someone of a later generation were to come to love the sword through this manual and make it a springboard for growth, nothing could be more glorious.

[A celestial warrior, through and through.]

“Thank you.”

As she stroked the Imoogi’s head, a question suddenly occurred to Seolhwa.

“But why didn’t you stop me on Mount Wudang?”

[Stop you?]

“When I was running wild. You could have stopped me.”

When the killing aura kept anyone from approaching for fear they’d be dragged into it and hurt, the Imoogi could easily have restrained her—yet kept silent.

Even though no one felt her unease more directly than it did.

Even knowing that rampage sprang from a warped emotion called anxiety.

The Imoogi simply held its tongue.

[I am neither Righteous nor Unorthodox. Neither White Path nor Black. Those are standards humans divided on a whim.]

“True.”

The Imoogi was a divine guardian, not human.

There was no need for it to belong anywhere.

[I move only for the human I choose. In that moment, you wanted revenge, and so did I.]

The humans the Imoogi chose had at times been Righteous, at times Unorthodox, and at times neither White nor Black.

At every moment, the Imoogi had followed the will of the human it chose.

Even if that choice harmed many, the Imoogi followed the choice of the human it had chosen.

“By what standard do you choose a human?”

[That’s a secret.]

“If I don’t suit you anymore, could you go to someone else?”

The Imoogi’s head snapped toward Seolhwa.

[Do you think that’s ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) as easy as flipping a hand over?!]

You don’t even have hands.

[I am a divine guardian, not a god! Do you know how many hundreds of years it took me to make the shard I gave you?!]

“It took you hundreds of years...?”

[Yes! If not you, I would have to wait hundreds of years again!]

Because it had been so eager to give it, she’d thought it was something easily made—but the Imoogi, it turned out, had been painstaking in its choice of human.

The fact that it did not grab just anyone and lend its power made her, inwardly, more grateful and proud.

“But even without me, you spoke perfectly well with the elders.”

[Those whose Heavenly Gate has opened can hear my voice.]

The Heavenly Gate.

Humans possess three dantians.

The lower dantian, where one first accumulates inner power when learning martial arts.

The middle dantian, which those who reach the realm of Flowering naturally come to know.

And lastly, the upper dantian, which those who attain the realm of Heaven Beyond Heaven come to know.

When, upon reaching the realm of Flowering, the realized middle dantian opens fully and can be used at will, that is called the extremity of Flowering.

By the same token, simply reaching the realm of Heaven Beyond Heaven does not mean one can use the upper dantian freely.

Even just training the upper dantian and making it one’s own demands tremendous effort and a long time.

However, it seemed that to hear the Imoogi’s voice, it sufficed for the upper dantian—that is, the Heavenly Gate—to open.

‘Come to think of it, Grandfather only spoke with the Imoogi after he reached the realm of Heaven Beyond Heaven.’

The first thing he did upon attaining that realm was to entrust the Imoogi with his granddaughter’s safety.

By that reckoning, there were not even five experts in all the world at the realm of Heaven Beyond Heaven; from the Imoogi’s perspective, there were very few humans with whom it could converse.

“Without me, it would’ve been a lonely life.”

[Hmph. I lived well enough with Ouyang Do until you came.]

“Now that you mention it, you handed me the shard right when Elder Ouyang Do left Mount Hua, didn’t you?”

So you were getting anxious, weren’t you?

She eyed the Imoogi, and it flustered and wobbled its body.

[Th-that only happened to coincide! You brat! Instead of being grateful that this exalted one chose a thunder-naked rascal like you!]

Snorting, the Imoogi tapped its tail on the desk—tak, tak.

Finding it cute, Seolhwa chuckled, “Puhuhu,” and patted its head.

If she thought back, at first it had acted as though there wasn’t a single enjoyable thing in human affairs.

But once it came down, it ended up liking everything so much it was a problem.

“Could you abandon me?”

[Hmph. I am not one to lightly betray loyalty.]

“I asked if it’s possible. This power is something you gave me. I wondered if you could take it back with your own hand.”

Black energy began to curl up, seeping around Seolhwa’s hand.

Each time she moved her hand this way and that, the black energy moved as if it could read her mind.

[Of course it’s possible. I can reclaim the shard I granted you at any time.]

“What would happen then?”

[Your Heavenly Gate has not opened, so you would no longer hear my voice. Needless to say, you couldn’t use my power; and even if your Heavenly Gate were to open, unless I appeared before you, you would not see me.]

“I see.”

It was a power easily gained; she had always thought it could vanish just as easily.

It didn’t disappoint her that the Imoogi’s power might disappear in an instant. Not seeing the Imoogi would be a little—no, quite a lot—sad, though.

[However, don’t worry overmuch. This exalted one is very much pleased with you.]

“That’s an honor.”

If she meant to borrow its power for a long time, she’d better keep in its good graces.

Thinking to ask Ryeong to buy a heap of sweets, Seolhwa stroked the Imoogi’s head.

****

“The matters of the Beggar’s Union and the Wudang Sect have been resolved thus. As soon as the new Dragon-Head, So-and-so, and the Wudang Sect Leader recover their bodies, I will summon them—be so informed.”

Thankfully, the affairs at the Beggar’s Union and Wudang ended without further disaster.

News that a Hugae had killed the Dragon-Head, and that Wudang, intoxicated by Hwandan, had imprisoned its Sect Leader and lost the capacity for deliberation, shocked everyone in the Martial Alliance.

Through the incidents at those two places, the danger of the faction called the Blood Cult stood out all the more.

The undercurrent that toppled the Beggar’s Union and Wudang.

What’s more, had there not also been crises at Shaolin and Mount Hua because of them?

Those who had dimly recognized only their existence at last began to fear and guard against the faction that had surfaced—called the Blood Cult.

Surveying the sunken mood, Namgoong Mucheon spoke in a somewhat lighter voice.

“I have asked the Beggar’s Dragon-Head to investigate the relationship between the Blood Cult and Hwaoru and to provide their information. This is regrettable, but in this our Martial Alliance has grown a step stronger, which is encouraging, is it not?”

At Namgoong Mucheon’s words, the mood eased.

The gathered elders and leaders nodded, agreeing.

“The Alliance Lord is right. Whatever the process, the Martial Alliance has gained eyes and ears, and Wudang has cut away a festering wound. This is, rightly, cause for joy.”

The problems of the two forces were rotten wounds that ought to have been exposed and healed sooner or later.

Excision, by nature, comes with pain.

Once the wound knit and new flesh began to grow, they would come to be grateful for this moment.

“It has not been so very long since the Martial Alliance was founded. The affairs of the Beggar’s Union and Wudang are lamentable, but there is no need for the whole Alliance to be swept up. Therefore, I would make a small proposal.”

The one who spoke was Beopseon of Shaolin.

“Speak.”

“How about opening a venue of harmony for the young warriors of the sects and clans? And to relive the camaraderie of the recent tournament as well.”

Rumor had it that since the tournament the young warriors had been eager to meet in the training grounds, make friends, and cross arms.

Since peers they could not readily meet within their clans and sects had gathered, it was only natural that, whenever eyes met, discourse on martial arts and martial theory flowed.

Namgoong Mucheon brightened and brought his hand down on the desk.

Thud,

“An excellent proposal. I hear the curiosity of the young warriors about unfamiliar arts was so aroused that sparring would break out whenever there was a spare moment. I, too, have felt the need to set a proper occasion.”

The other elders and leaders nodded readily.

A gathering of the latter-blooming youths would surely be a precious experience for young warriors who still lacked experience; there was no reason to oppose it.

“Since it is a gathering of those who will soar with all their might, how about calling it the Dragon & Phoenix Gathering?”

“Good.”

“I agree.”

“Then let us discuss the details in due course.”

****

Kunming, Yunnan Province.

Even though the Martial Alliance had discovered the Blood Cult’s base beneath Hwaoru, they did not move it—an act of provocation.

A proof, no less, of their confidence that they would not be cowed by the Alliance’s force; a declaration that they would hide no longer.

“...Very well.”

The Blood Demon, reclining with his chin propped and his posture slanted, opened his eyes.

Under the gentle light of the Night Pearls, his crimson pupils gleamed with a chilling hue.

Beneath that leisurely predator’s ferocity, the five Blood Lords steadied their tense breaths.

“Mo-wol is dead?”

The Blood Demon’s question was directed into the darkness where the Night Pearls’ light did not reach.

From within the shadows, the one who had been concealed revealed himself without so much as a hint of presence.

The owner of the Fifth Moon Medallion. Hidden Moon.

“Yes. It appears she was slain by the Shadowless Demon God.”