Ssssss—

When the Blood Demon flicked his fingers, Second Moon and Third Moon, who had been hiding somewhere, revealed themselves.

As if on cue, they hoisted the unconscious Fifth Blood Lord by both arms and carried him off somewhere.

Watching the Fifth Blood Lord’s ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ legs drag as he receded, the Blood Demon propped his chin on one hand and calmly closed his eyes as though nothing had happened.

The Blood Lords who had been indifferent were, before they knew it, reading the Blood Demon’s mood.

A quiet stillness flowed for a time.

“How long do you intend to stand there just watching?”

“...”

“!”

“Will you only move after the Great Asura Blood Sect kneels to the Central Plains?”

His words, spoken with eyes still closed, were level and flat, but the three Blood Lords felt the killing intent coiled in his voice.

The Blood Demon opened his eyes and looked at the three Blood Lords.

With their lives threatened, they instinctively let their qi seep out.

The Blood Demon snorted, a thin, mocking sound.

“Next time we meet, I expect you to bring me something interesting.”

****

Several days had passed since the Sado Union departed.

Because the Martial Alliance and the Sado Union had formed an alliance, there was much to discuss—new protocols, points of contact with responsible officers—and the Martial Alliance was busy inside and out.

In the midst of this, the Beggar’s Union Head, So-and-so, came looking for Seolhwa.

Clatter—

Stepping into the room, So-and-so let his curious gaze sweep every corner.

But the moment he realized it was an utterly ordinary room, his expression flipped to boredom.

“Disappointing.”

He flopped into a chair and grumbled.

Pouring tea into his cup, Seolhwa looked at him with a puzzled expression.

To barge in and lead with “disappointing,” out of the blue.

It wasn’t as if she had met him at all these past few days.

“Do you know what it’s like outside right now?”

Seolhwa shook her head.

“Of course you wouldn’t. You haven’t taken a single step outside these quarters.”

Seolhwa’s hand, as she filled her own cup, gave a small, involuntary tremor.

As he said, from the moment the Sado Union left, Seolhwa had not taken a single step beyond her quarters.

She trained in the Private Training Hall attached to her quarters, and she took all her meals there as well.

She received almost no visitors.

Cheongun and Seop Mugwang, who knew why she had shut herself in, were tactful enough not to seek her out.

Three days passed like that.

Had something happened in the meantime?

Even if she’d kept to her quarters, if there had been an incident, Ryeong would have told her—wouldn’t she?

No.

As Head of the Beggar’s Union, he might know things Ryeong did not.

“Has something happened?”

When Seolhwa asked, So-and-so crossed his legs and nodded.

“It has. Something quite serious.”

“What is it?”

“A peerless master has appeared. One whose skill surpasses the Ten Masters of the world.”

Seolhwa’s expression grew grave.

A master exceeding the Ten Masters had appeared?

“At this timing?”

She hurriedly rummaged through memories of her prior life, but no one came to mind.

“Who is it?”

“Vanished.”

“...Pardon?”

“Vanished without a trace. I hear he’s young, too! The whole world talks of that young master, and yet the master in question holes up in quarters and shows no sign of coming out!”

THUMP, THUMP! He pounded the table, launching into an impassioned tirade.

Listening to him, Seolhwa could only catch on at once.

A young, peerless master holed up in quarters.

He was talking about her.

“Why in Heaven aren’t you stepping outside? I can’t sleep for the curiosity!”

Ever since her friendly match with the Green Forest War King, Seolhwa had, quite literally, become famous.

Every gathering place buzzed with rumors that a war god without equal had appeared in the world, and crowds thronged the environs of the Martial Alliance just to catch so much as a glimpse of her face.

While he admired the brilliance of her stratagem—thoroughly severing the Sado Union Lord from Namgoong Seolhwa—So-and-so had also expected that she would at last step fully onto the stage of the martial world.

The hidden power who held both the Sado Union and the Martial Alliance in hand.

If Namgoong Seolhwa were to stand at the fore, he thought, the world would soon be overturned.

And yet her ensuing move was... disappearance.

“I half thought you’d smeared honey on the walls in here. But to find it this dreary—truly, I’m disappointed.”

He grumbled, scowling.

Seolhwa, who had listened in silence, let out a soft chuckle.

“Is that why you came to see me?”

“Partly that.... To be frank, this time I’m impressed. I knew there would be many who aided you, but I didn’t imagine it was to this degree.”

His admiration was sincere.

He had known Namgoong Seolhwa was formidable, but her supporters were beyond anything he had imagined.

“At this point, shouldn’t you be the Alliance Lord?”

“You’re not one for prejudice, I see.”

By allocation and seniority, she was on the younger end even among the Young Elites; how could she possibly be Alliance Lord?

“I do have that tendency. Ah, and this.”

He drew something from his breast and laid it on the table.

“In truth, this is my main business.”

What he set down was the cloth bearing the sigil she had asked him to investigate.

“Did you learn something?”

“I learned it quickly, in fact. I had planned to find you as soon as the Dragon & Phoenix Gathering ended, but... things happened.”

He clicked his tongue.

At the time, even while ill, he had meant to deliver the news to her in person, but the events at the Dragon & Phoenix Gathering had erupted, and so he had not managed to convey it until now.

After hearing of her exploits within the Martial Alliance, he had thought to seize the chance at last—but this time, she had vanished from sight.

At last, unable to endure it, he ignored the eyes of the crowd and pushed his way straight to her quarters.

Tapping the sigil with a fingertip, he spoke.

“This is the mark of a secret organization of the Demonic Sect.”

“...The Demonic Sect...?”

“Have you heard of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult?”

Seolhwa inclined her head slightly.

The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.

A great power based in the Hundred-Thousand Mountains, a religious force that venerates the Demon God and follows the Cult Lord known as the Heavenly Demon.

As a force that venerates the demonic, they cultivate demonic qi, and their martial arts are called the Demonic Arts.

Rumor had it that the Cult Lord’s realm could be set beside the Ten Masters of the world, but there were none who truly knew his full measure.

In the past, the martial world of the Central Plains had made several attempts to gauge their scale, but to grasp every force scattered across mountain chains numbering, as the name said, in the tens of thousands, was an impossible task.

A martial force hidden beneath the shadow—its strength and size alike unclear.

“The Heavenly Demon’s direct-action unit—the No-Trace Unit. It means they leave no traces, and true to that name, those who know of their existence are few indeed. I learned of them by the barest accident when I was young. At the time, our Head had made a journey to the Hundred-Thousand Mountains.”

It had been nearly a hundred years since the martial world of the Central Plains and the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult had refrained from trespassing in one another’s domains.

Yet though each did not know, neither had ceased probing the other.

“Where did you get this sigil? I know only that it belongs to the No-Trace Unit; I know nothing beyond that.”

“I received it from a warrior of the No-Trace Unit.”

Seolhwa thought of the Long-Scarred Bamboo-Hatted Man.

“You’ve met them?”

“Yes. During the tournament.”

“In what capacity?”

As Sado Union Lord? Or as Namgoong Seolhwa?

...

She did not answer.

Strictly speaking, one could say both.

But the one he had come to find was neither the Sado Union Lord nor Namgoong Seolhwa.

Ilhwa.

It had been herself from the previous life.

Only, the question filling Seolhwa’s head right now was neither about the No-Trace Unit nor about the Long-Scarred Bamboo-Hatted Man.

Yu Gang.

Why did Yu Gang have a ring bearing this sigil?

He had said it was the only thing left to him by those who abandoned him.

He’d said he wasn’t getting his hopes up, and yet the look on his face—perhaps he might find his parents—had carried a trace of hope.

It was possible, wasn’t it?

As with the Namgoong Clan, Yu Gang’s parents might be desperately searching for him.

Only—

The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult...

A ring engraved with the sigil of the No-Trace Unit, the Heavenly Demon’s direct-action arm.

If Yu Gang learned that his parents were people of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, how would he react?

What would he think?

What decision would he...

...

Seolhwa stopped the spiral of deliberation.

No matter how she worried it, she could not arrive at an answer.

This was not a matter for her to judge.

“Do you know where the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult’s main seat is?”

“You’re not... going, are you?”

He looked at her in shock.

It had been a long time since people of the Central Plains’ martial world had gone to the Hundred-Thousand Mountains.

In that time, only a few from the Beggar’s Union, masquerading as ordinary merchants, as beggars, as travelers, had gone back and forth to gather information.

“No matter how capable you are, that place is too dangerous. Moreover, you’re the Alliance Lord’s granddaughter—they won’t welcome you.”

“Whether they welcome me or not doesn’t matter. I have reason enough to go.”

Whatever the relations between the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult and the martial world—irrelevant.

However they regarded her—irrelevant.

Now that she had learned the origin of this sigil, there was no choice of not going.

“When do you intend to leave?”

“As soon as preparations are complete.”

“And with whom will you go?”