Yang Cheol flinched at Unwi’s words.

“Life, like stones on a Go board, is a series of choices. Sometimes it’s a decision that can change your fate. Sometimes, it’s something that seems trivial. But you can’t cover the sky with your palm.”

“...”

“I don’t want your inner conflict to be projected onto me, but I suppose even that’s not so easy.”

“...Honored Successor...”

“When you live long enough, things you once couldn’t see start to come into view.”

“...”

“Sometimes it’s blurry, sometimes it’s clear. From what I see—you haven’t betrayed the Everlasting Snow Palace. On the contrary, you’re overflowing with a desire to see it thrive.”

He dropped to his knees at once.

“That’s correct. I swear I’ve never betrayed the Palace. Not until now, and never in the future.”

Unwi silently studied Yang Cheol for a moment, then spoke quietly.

“There’s someone in Yangryeong whom I trust more than anyone else in this world. And he happens to be your senior.”

“...”

“If it were up to me, I’d bring you to Yangryeong right now. But... it’s not time yet.”

Unwi reached out and gently brushed Yang Cheol’s shoulder as he continued.

“You’ll have to be my eyes and ears.”

“...Me...?”

“Yes. You.”

***

There are many who view the world like a Go board.

But that doesn’t mean the world is a Go board.

When factions clash, the most important factor isn’t strength—but information.

Strength only matters in the final moment. If one has a vast advantage in information, even overwhelming strength can become meaningless.

To put one’s opponent on the Go board, one must first know what that opponent knows.

By sifting through memories of his previous life, and the information he’d gathered when the Palace had fallen—one fact was clear.

Vice Palace Lord Yang Seoljin needed no further discussion. His betrayal was absolute.

But after that... the picture became more complicated.

At the time he had erased the Palace from the world, there had been no such thing as the White Snow Spirit Guard.

Three central figures now stood in question:

The Commander, Juche; the Vice Commander, Yeon Suon; and the Instructor, Gok Jinbung.

At least one of them was a traitor.

It could be all three, two of them, or just one.

The probability that none were traitors—was zero.

The moment the Polar Successors began to die, it had already been inevitable.

“I haven’t heard your answer yet. Will you be my eyes and ears?”

At his question, Yang Cheol straightened his expression and cupped his fists.

“Yes. Please give me your orders.”

Unwi liked both the expression and the attitude.

His cultivation level was at the Harmonization Stage. That was enough to call him talented.

Unwi reopened the ledger, tore out three pages, and handed them to Yang Cheol.

“Take this.”

“...Are you saying to bring this to the Commander?”

Unwi shook his head.

“Deliver it to Sim Munryong of the White Guard.”

Yang Cheol’s eyes widened.

“...Pardon?”

That kind of reaction was understandable. Passing information from the Spirit Guard to the White Guard—was unheard of.

“...Honored Successor... that’s...”

“Not long ago, the Commander and I had a rather unpleasant conversation in the Main Palace.”

It was true.

At the time, Juche had offered Namgung Wonyang a position in the Spirit Guard, and she had refused.

Unwi had interrupted their discussion mid-way, and the tension that day would undoubtedly be remembered by Juche and linked to this incident.

That was the basis of every strategic match:

Leverage what you know.

“Don’t question it further. Also—avoid doing anything that might arouse suspicion. Especially... never mention that I tore out pages from the ledger.”

“...Understood.”

“And tell Sim Munryong this: use this ledger to root out the other spies within the Palace and secure the vacant seat of the Twelve Cold Commanders as your reward.”

“I’ll deliver the message.”

“Sim Munryong may speak coarsely, but that’s just the kind of man he is. Give him the ledger. And report its contents to the Commander as well.”

“...Naturally, the Commander should be informed first.”

“Good. You have a decent sense of political awareness. You’ll do fine.”

Yang Cheol smiled faintly at the compliment.

“Remember this above all else. You may have become my eyes and ears—but your loyalty must always belong to the Palace.”

“...By that... you mean...”

The moment he grew cautious showed just how quick-witted he truly was.

Even Unwi’s implication—that Yang Cheol should be willing to sever ties with him if he ever became a threat to the Palace—wasn’t lost on him.

“...Honored Successor... you’re truly terrifying.”

Before Unwi could respond—

“Now, now. What’s with all the grim talk? Our Vice Lord is a very gentle person, you know.”

Unwi didn’t bother to reply, but Yang Cheol’s face clearly answered.

This lunatic...

Roughly something like that.

“Yang Cheol.”

“Yes, Honored Successor.”

“Go on your way now.”

“...Don’t you need an escort?”

“I’ll be staying here for another two days before heading to Yangryeong. Leave the carriage.”

“...But I...”

“Run.”

Yang Cheol blinked.

“...Me?”

“You’re a Harmonization Stage martial artist, aren’t you? You’re not even injured.”

“...”

“Whereas Cheonpung and I are both wounded. So we’re the ones who should take the carriage. You? You can run faster than any horse. So run.”

It was airtight logic.

Yang Cheol let out a dry laugh and cupped his fists.

“I’ll be off, Honored Successor.”

When Unwi nodded, Yang Cheol vanished like smoke.

In the place he’d left behind, Cheonpung asked,

“Vice Lord, do you really trust him?”

Now that there were no eyes watching, Cheonpung’s voice had relaxed.

Unwi answered quietly.

“There are things you can know just by looking into a person’s eyes. From what I saw, Yang Cheol isn’t someone who would betray the Palace.”

After a pause, Unwi glanced at him again and added,

“Just like you.”

Cheonpung’s face lit up with emotion.

“I don’t serve the Palace, Vice Lord.”

“Oh?”

“I serve you, Vice Lord. Hahaha.”

Unwi gave a faint smile.

“Cheonpung.”

“Yes, Vice Lord.”

“Your progress is impressive. But still a little lacking.”

“...My apologies.”

“No need to apologize. Everything has its time. For now, the people we’re fighting might be at most Harmonization or Spirit Ascension-level. But in two years, three years... there’s no guarantee it’ll stay that way.”

And that was the truth.

“Push yourself harder. But don’t feel pressured.”

“It’s a bit of pressure, but I’ll live up to your faith in me.”

After saying so confidently, Cheonpung paused and asked curiously,

“May I ask one thing?”

“Go ahead.”

“What is your dream, Vice Lord?”

“My dream?”

“Yes. Or perhaps your wish, something like that.”

Unwi had no real dream, but he did have a wish.

“Like with any organization, things may look stable from the outside—but inside, it’s often a mess. The Palace is no exception.”

He turned his head and gazed out over the endless snowy plains.

“To protect the Palace. That’s my wish.”

“Then I’ll protect the Palace too.”

Cheonpung smiled softly.

“Your wish is my wish, and your dream is my dream.”

There was reverence in Cheonpung’s eyes as he spoke.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s unsettling.”

“Haha... apologies.”

Still—

“It’s not a bad thing to hear.”

***

Yang Cheol carried out Seol Unwi’s orders with precision.

The first thing he did was report to Juche.

When he handed over the ledger, Juche’s expression turned peculiar.

“So... this is the list ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) of spies who defected to the Original Blood Cult?”

“Yes.”

“...Twenty sects... that’s quite a number.”

Juche’s expression was deeply troubled.

“Yang Cheol.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“There are spies in the White Snow Spirit Guard, aren’t there.”

Yang Cheol’s face stiffened.

It was the expression of someone fully loyal to the Spirit Guard—something anyone could recognize at a glance.

“...This is difficult. Truly difficult.”

Juche spoke solemnly, his face still complicated.

“I don’t know exactly when it was compiled, but it’s clear a great deal of effort went into it over a long time. Fortunately, the twenty sects listed here do not pose a direct threat to the Palace.”

And that was accurate.

Snow Mountain was vast.

Even if certain regions were remote, there were plenty of cities with easy access to the Central Plains via the sea, or towns near the borders of foreign nations. These weren’t backward villages. There were hundreds of sects rooted across the range.

Not all of them were loyal to the Everlasting Snow Palace like the Martial Alliance, but the twenty listed in this ledger had sold information about the Palace and been paid for it.

They were undeniably spies.

However, the strongest martial artist among those twenty sects was only at the Spirit Ascension Realm.

Just one person.

That much was manageable.

Then, Juche asked,

“Is this the full list?”

“Yes. As far as I could tell, that was everything.”

“Nothing was damaged or removed?”

“It’s the original ledger, received directly from the assassin by Honored Successor.”

“So, it’s the original.”

“Yes.”

Juche propped his chin on his hand and fell into thought, then let out a dry laugh.

“And yet he told you to bring this to the White Guard?”

“More precisely, he told me to deliver it to a man named Sim Munryong.”

Sim Munryong.

There was no way Juche didn’t know the name.

The one who had brought fame to Seol Unwi across the Central Plains through Go—a man who had become a Mythic Realm martial artist during a match.

“If it’s that rascal who reached the Mythic Realm through Go, then yes, anyone can see he’s one of Honored Successor’s close aides... I suppose it’s not so hard to understand.”

Juche gave a quiet chuckle.

“Seems like Honored Successor’s still holding a grudge over ‘that day.’”

Yang Cheol didn’t respond.

A low-ranking member had no business prying into such matters. It wasn’t just improper—it was forbidden.

That was the rule of the White Snow Spirit Guard.

“Taking care of his ally, making his discomfort toward me known... I suppose I can’t really complain.”

Juche handed the ledger back to Yang Cheol and spoke.

“Give it to the White Guard. Then go to Yangryeong and deliver this message to Honored Successor.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’ll arrange a chance to formally apologize for that day’s mistake—soon.”

Yang Cheol cupped his fists.

“I shall obey.”

He committed Juche’s words, expressions, and every gesture to memory, then set off for the headquarters of the White Guard.

There, he sought out a man deeply immersed in training.

Long hair tied in a braid.

A frame six cheok and three chon tall.

Looked to be in his early to mid-forties.

Sim Munryong, the White Falcon of Mount Hua, frowned as he saw Yang Cheol.

“What the hell is this?”

“Honored Successor told me to deliver it to you.”

“Him? That guy?”

The warning about his speech had already been seared into Yang Cheol’s brain.

There was a reason this man was called a lunatic.

He was simply that kind of person.

“And he told me to deliver this message too.”

“What?”

“‘Use this ledger to root out the other spies within the Palace, and use that merit to claim the vacant seat among the Twelve Cold Commanders.’ That’s what he said. He said you’d know what it means.”

Sim Munryong let out a short laugh.

“You’re from the White Snow Spirit Guard or whatever, aren’t you?”

“I may be listed under them, but I serve the Palace.”

“That so? I heard you folks act like assassins, use disguises, gather intelligence... But your body’s not assassin material. What the hell are you built like?”

“...Must I explain that as well?”