“Sswaeeek—! Huuuk!”

Jin Ye’s sword stormed in, scattering plum petals.

Hyeon’s fist met it with force that seemed to rip the air.

But just before the two all-out strikes collided—

“Kwooooom!!”

A colossal, unknown power shoved both attacks aside, blasting the two in opposite directions.

“Whirr— Tak!”

“Shraaa—!”

Jin Ye and Hyeon each barely found their footing in their own way and looked toward the sparring stage.

Namgoong Seolhwa stood upon it.

In an instant, the arena fell into a beat of silence at what had happened too fast to grasp.

“Big sis!!”

As Namgoong Woong’s cry—half scream—burst out, the others stirred.

“What is that? What just happened?”

“Did Miss Namgoong just push the two of them back?”

“But somehow... doesn’t it feel colder...?”

White breath leaked from the mouths of the young elites.

“L-look...!”

All eyes followed Namgoong Seolhwa’s gaze upward, to the sky directly ahead.

Snow-white hair, long as a cascade.

A snow-white mask that hid the entire face.

A snow-white long coat billowing wide.

A figure shrouded all in white hung in midair—identity unknown.

The white aura pouring off that person was what was freezing the air.

In both hands the figure held long, flexible swords that looked to be about six meters each, and on the arena below, to either side of Seolhwa, marks showed where those blades had struck.

It was exactly where Jin Ye and Hyeon had been standing a moment ago.

Seolhwa recognized the figure at ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) a glance.

Said to possess martial prowess second only to the Blood Demon within the Blood Cult, and the Blood Lord who commanded the strongest faction among the six Blood Lords.

The First Blood Lord.

Seolhwa clenched her fist.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The cold eyes behind the mask, as if indifferent to all things, were no different from the prior life.

Those frigid eyes drifted down to Seolhwa, unhurried.

“Little House Lord....”

A gaze so languid it was stifling.

A woman’s voice without rise or fall, chill enough to raise gooseflesh.

Seolhwa knew the mercilessness and cruelty in that gaze.

To have no interest in others meant their pain and suffering lay outside her concern.

“I came to take you. The Lord... says to bring you.”

“...”

The First Blood Lord’s answer was exactly what Seolhwa expected.

‘So they move this fast.’

In preparation for this kind of situation, the Dragon & Phoenix Gathering had been sited near the Martial Alliance, and Jegal Myeong’s array strengthened the perimeter.

However hastily erected, if it was Jegal Myeong’s array, it should have bought time until support arrived from the Martial Alliance.

‘I sensed the force trying to break the array, and not long after, the array broke.’

This place was close to the Martial Alliance, but at least a quarter-hour (15 minutes) would have to pass before reinforcements could arrive.

No—if the messenger’s feet were slow, it might take longer.

Still, if she could only buy time until support came...

From afar, she felt the presences of dozens racing closer.

It was the patrol unit assigned by the Martial Alliance to the Gathering.

If she faced the First Blood Lord alongside the Unit Lords for a while...

“Shwaa—! Whirr— Thud.”

“...!”

Seolhwa looked down at what had rolled to a stop at her feet.

The head of one of the Gathering’s attendees.

Likely a disciple of Mount Heng.

On the Gathering’s first day, he had been the very first to ask her for a spar.

‘...When?’

Seolhwa looked up at the First Blood Lord.

From the right-hand sword, red blood dripped, plip, plip.

“Don’t... think about stalling.... I’ll kill them... one by one....”

“...Stop.”

With a bored look, the First Blood Lord raised her left hand and unfolded three fingers.

Those fingers folded down, one by one, slowly.

When at last they had all folded—

“Whirr—”

The sword in her right hand moved.

Like a snake, the blade flashed with no hint of hesitation, aiming for the nape of its target.

But—

“Kaaang—!”

This time Seolhwa, focused on the First Blood Lord’s motion, barely managed to parry.

“...!”

Jin Ye of Mount Hua—the next target—stared wide-eyed at Seolhwa, who stood braced before her.

Jin Ye had been glaring up at the woman hovering overhead, on full guard, and hadn’t even realized the blade was coming for her.

If not for Miss Namgoong, her head would already be on the ground.

In Jin Ye’s eyes, blood was seeping from Seolhwa’s right arm.

Just deflecting the strike had split open part of the wound she’d thought was almost closed.

“M-Miss...!”

“Run. Now.”

Overwhelming.

There was nothing else to say.

From that one exchange alone, Jin Ye knew she was facing someone she could do nothing against.

And in this situation, running was the only thing that could help Miss Namgoong.

“Tadat—”

Watching her target bolt, the First Blood Lord tilted her head slightly.

Her gaze slid toward the arena entrance.

Dozens of Martial Alliance fighters were charging in.

“Seize them!”

“Protect the kids!”

But before they could even reach the young elites—

“Kakakakakang—! Kakang! Kaang—!”

The First Blood Lord’s subordinates appeared from nowhere and blocked the patrol unit.

All were masters in white martial garb and white masks.

“Damn it! Fight!”

“Drop them!”

“Kang! Kakakang! Kang!”

In an instant, battle erupted between the patrol unit and the First Blood Lord’s subordinates.

“Shraa— Gwaaah! Aaagh!”

Clashing, cutting, and screams of pain filled the arena.

Until then, the young elites still stood there, not even knowing what they should do.

“Sh-shouldn’t we be fighting too?”

“But...”

Right before their eyes, members of the patrol unit were dying.

They could tell something grave was happening, but the problem was that the enemy outclassed them far beyond the young elites’ skill.

“You filthy bastards!!”

Peng Hogwang, hot-blooded by nature, was the first among the young elites to leap into the fray.

Then Peng Chifeng and Peng Mirang, who had been gauging the flow, followed, and so did Shaolin’s monks, Mount Hua’s swords, and swordsmen of the Moyong Clan.

Having witnessed the death of a fellow young elite right before them, they jumped in one by one despite knowing they were no match.

Meanwhile, facing off against the First Blood Lord, Seolhwa glared at her, a dull ache throbbing in her right arm.

[Namgoong Seolhwa, she is not someone you can meet with your strength. Use mine. Now!]

The Imoogi urged her to use its power—she could not.

The Blood Cult still did not know she was the Shadowless Demon God.

The Shadowless Demon God’s existence would be a dagger to the Blood Demon’s heart.

Not yet—she could not lay that crucial card down lightly.

[Will you let everyone here die? If that human chooses, everyone present is in danger and you know it!]

Not yet, not yet...

The First Blood Lord raised her hand again.

Three fingers slowly folded down, one by one; when at last they all folded again—

“Kaaang—!”

“Hi— hiiik...!”

The First Blood Lord’s blade moved for yet another young elite.

The indifferent, heavy killing intent poured out with the blade, harsh enough to flay the skin.

Merciless killing will with not the slightest hesitation.

“How long... do you think you can keep blocking...?”

“Big sis!!”

“Don’t come!!”

“Whirr— Kaang! Kakang! Kang! Kakakang!”

Of course that killing intent turned toward Woong.

“Get back! Now!”

“!”

Woong hurriedly retreated.

Parrying the First Blood Lord’s raining blades, Seolhwa weighed, hard.

If she used the Imoogi’s power right now, could she stop the First Blood Lord?

‘No.’

The First Blood Lord’s state had already surpassed the pinnacle of Flowering.

Though that state had been forced up by Blood Arts and was thus incomplete, if she meant to use all the Blood Cult’s Blood Arts, her might alone would near Heaven Beyond Heaven.

‘If even using the Imoogi’s power won’t stop her—’

Then not using it was right.

Not yet—she could not let the Blood Cult learn of this power.

“Kang— Kaang! Kaaaang—!”

While Seolhwa received the First Blood Lord’s blades,

the arena filled with screams and fierce shouts.

The First Blood Lord’s handpicked elites had already consumed Bloodburst Pellets before charging in, raising their realms.

There was no way the patrol fighters and the young elites of the Gathering could stand against such merciless monsters.

“Gwaaah!”

“Aaagh! My leg!!”

Blood splattered, and allies fell one after another.

“Fall back! Don’t meet them head-on!”

The only ones who could meet them were, at best, Vermilion Bird Division Lord Yu Pyo and Azure Dragon Division Lord Il Jirang.

‘Just a little... just hold a little longer....’

A quarter-hour.

Surely before a quarter-hour was up, people from the Martial Alliance—Grandfather—would arrive.

So if they could just hold on a little longer...

“Shraa—!”

“!”

Right before Seolhwa’s eyes, another neck fell.

Man Uhak, Mount Hae’s second disciple—the one who had sparred Peng Mirang first last night.

He had also been Seolhwa’s first main-round opponent at the tournament, and she had met him again in the training grounds at dawn today.

‘Please, Miss! Teach me!’

Younger than her by a few years if going by age alone, he had bowed his waist and begged for instruction.

She hadn’t been able to leave it be; she’d added a few words and sent him off with encouragement.

He surely would have become a fine martial man.

Surely...

“Senior brother!!!”

Il Jirang’s voice split the arena sharp.

He hewed down the First Blood Lord’s subordinate blocking his path in a single stroke and sprinted without pause.

The First Blood Lord’s blade surged to intercept him.

“Kaaaang—!”

“...Stop.”

Seolhwa’s body trembled as she blocked that blade.

If she had heeded the Imoogi, could she at least have saved the two who died by the First Blood Lord’s hand?

If she had gone along quietly from the start, could she have prevented all of this?

“Stop!!!”

From her reddened eyes, a single tear ran down.

For the first time, the First Blood Lord’s vacant gaze took on a faint hue.

“They said you’d changed... it’s true....”

Beyond the white mask, the First Blood Lord’s eyes curved, just slightly.

“Let’s go.... The Lord is waiting....”

The First Blood Lord lowered her blade.

Her subordinates likewise lowered theirs and withdrew behind her.

“What— what’s with them all of a sudden?”

“W-what just happened?”

The patrol fighters and young elites stared, bewildered, toward the stage at a battle that had exploded and ended in a blink.

Namgoong Seolhwa sheathed her sword.

Two of the white-masked figures approached her.

They reached to seize Seolhwa by both arms—she flung their hands off.

“Don’t touch me. I’ll go on my own.”

Namgoong Woong—who had slipped into the clash with the white-masked ones at some point—felt his eyes widen, slowly.

“B-big sis...?”

As he moved to go to Seolhwa, someone seized him from behind.

“Young lord, you must not.”

Jegal Hwi.

The array his uncle devised was not something that could be broken in a single stroke.

That such an array had been unraveled so effortlessly meant the opponent before them was a master beyond imagination.

“If you go now, you will only put the young lady in a worse position.”

“Let go of me! Big sis! No! If we hold on a little longer, Grandfather will be here!! Big sis!!”

Seolhwa looked back at Namgoong Woong.

She knew it, too.

If they held a little longer, people from the Martial Alliance would come.

But she could not swear how many more would die by then.

The longer it dragged, the more the First Blood Lord would kill; she could not let so many die just to save herself.

[Namgoong Seolhwa. No.]

— Please.

[You know full well what happens if I leave!]

— I’m sorry.

[Whether I leave or not is mine to decide. You think I’ll heed the words of a mere human!!]

— ...I’m sorry.

Seolhwa turned her eyes from Woong.

It was something she had anticipated, at least once.

She had dimly known that Hidden Moon’s warning was true.

The time had come, and with it, change.

— Woong.

“!”

— Tell Grandfather and Father I’m sorry.

“...Big sis...!!”

— I will... come back.

“N-no...!”

Casting Woong a sidelong glance, the First Blood Lord left the arena first.

“Tap—”

After a brief hesitation, Namgoong Seolhwa left the arena in her wake.

Her subordinates followed after.

“Big sis!!!”

Namgoong Woong’s wail rang through the arena.

“Whoosh— Huuk—”

The dull wind of swift Light-Footwork brushed Seolhwa’s ears.

As if she had expected it, the First Blood Lord was moving in the exact opposite direction from the Martial Alliance.

Seolhwa did not look back.

How far had they gotten from the Alliance?

She felt the Imoogi’s power slip out of her body with a soft, receding hush.

Arrogant human.

No doubt it muttered as much.

It might think she had cast it off so easily.

It was a spirit that sulked readily; it might never show itself to her again.

‘I should have given it as much candied hawthorn as it wanted.’

If it left her, there would be no human around who could converse with it.

“...”

“Hoooo— Huuk—”

She was going back.

To the Blood Cult.

Into the Blood Demon’s grasp.

But she was not the same person she had been when she left that place.

‘Do not forget. You are Namgoong.’

Recalling Namgoong Mucheon’s words, Seolhwa clenched her fist.

Wherever she went, wherever she was—

‘I am Namgoong.’

She would never forget again.

As long as that identity was clear, she would no longer be helplessly swung about by the Blood Demon’s hand.

Without fail—

‘I will return. One way or another.’

“Tap— Tadat—”

Cutting through the wind, Seolhwa’s eyes set hard with resolve.

She clenched tight the hem of her blue robe embroidered with cloud patterns.

<Return of the Namgoong Clan’s Granddaughter>

Part 2 — End