Unwi’s voice was calm, but there was resolute firmness beneath it. He continued speaking.

“To rule a region does not simply mean to extract its resources or profit from it. It comes with the obligation to protect that place, to safeguard its people, and to maintain its order.”

His gaze shifted to Ju Soa, who knelt before him.

“You should have taken up your swords and fought. Even if you couldn’t win. Even if it meant your death. That was your duty. And you also abandoned your rights.”

He looked at Wonyang. Then at Han Murin.

“In that moment—no, at the very least, during those five days I was gone—Yangryeong belonged to the Sacheon Alliance. And I didn’t accept you merely to install you as my puppets. Yet, even as you watched with your own eyes, you did nothing while mere martial artists from the Sacheon Alliance carried out inspections and seized control.”

The chill in Unwi’s eyes remained unchanged.

But it was not the blind rage of emotion—it was the unwavering chill born of principle.

“My disappointment with you does not stem from your inability to think as I do. It is because you, as martial artists—and beyond that, as people—abandoned the most fundamental sense of responsibility.”

That was why it came down to duty and right.

Unwi was truly angry.

Not out of impulse, but from principle, conviction, and responsibility—refined by wisdom and experience from his past life, it had become an unshakable philosophy.

Of everyone present here, Wonyang had experienced this side of Unwi once before.

That day, when they had returned to Yangryeong with Sim Munryong.

Unwi had discovered that the Yang family of Yaksu was smuggling Black Heaven Pellets, and confirmed they were agents of the Central Blood Sect.

Yet, he had still avenged their deaths.

He had chosen to prioritize what mattered.

No matter what betrayal they had committed against Everlasting Snow Palace—first and foremost, they had been people of Seolgung, and they had died.

To protect the values of that vast sect called Everlasting Snow Palace, he had placed responsibility above all else.

That was all there was to it.

“Han Murin.”

“...Yes, Branch Lord.”

“Was your desire to take revenge on the Soul-Burning Flame Palace so weak that it could be bent by a mere threat from the Sacheon Alliance?”

“...”

“To be exact, it wasn’t even the Sacheon Alliance—it was just a few sects from Jeogan. Was that all it took? Was that all your hatred was worth?”

“...No, it was not.”

Unwi turned his head.

“Wonyang.”

“...Y-Yes... my lord...”

“Namgung Ho is the master of the Blood Command Unit—the Blood Sect’s most elite force. At his command, five experts of the Five Divine Realms, forty martial artists of the Heaven and Earth Four Realms, and five hundred from the Connection Realm move. His level is that of Transcendent Manifestation. He’s one of the highest of the high—just half a step away from transcending even Peach Blossom Suppression.”

“...”

“That’s the kind of man Namgung Ho is. And yet, before you even reached him, you were cowering before men who weren’t even worthy to be called his underlings.”

Wonyang clenched her teeth and bowed her head.

There was nothing to say.

“And Ju Soa.”

“...Yes.”

“Why are you even here?”

“...Pardon?”

“I saved you in the secret realm because I pitied you.”

“...”

“You almost died from the betrayal of someone you had trusted for years. I pitied you, so I saved you. I did offer you one year under me—but now, I’m starting to wonder if that decision wasn’t a mistake.”

She bit her lip hard.

There were plenty of excuses.

Commander Seong had collapsed. Branch Lord Unwi was gone.

And though the sects of Jeogan had withdrawn, the Iron Name Division martial artists from the main Sacheon Alliance had remained.

It had seemed more prudent to watch than to provoke them.

But it was a wrong judgment.

She reflected sincerely.

They should have made them leave—by any means.

“Didn’t you say you didn’t want to live as a disgrace to martial artists?”

“...Yes.”

“Then what have you done for the past five days?”

“...”

“Was that not disgraceful?”

In the end, she lowered her head completely.

Unwi looked down at the kneeling division members and asked curtly,

“What am I to do with you all?”

“...”

“Forgiveness is not difficult. But there’s no guarantee an incident like this won’t repeat itself. That’s how deep my disappointment runs.”

Wonyang acted first.

She dropped into a full prostration—five-point bow.

“...Please grant us another chance.”

So she said.

Han Murin followed suit. And Ju Soa did the same.

Cheonpung, after sighing twice inwardly, also bowed in full prostration.

“A chance, huh...”

He could cast them out if he wanted to.

But since they were asking for a chance—he could grant one.

“One hundred.”

At Unwi’s abrupt words, all of them lifted their heads.

One hundred...? One hundred what?

“In Jeogan, just like here in Yangryeong, there are multiple supply routes. Many merchant convoys pass through. Eliminate every last convoy associated with the sects that entered Jeogan five days ago.”

Their eyes widened.

“Kill at least one hundred people. By noon tomorrow.”

None of them thought to object.

They all saluted in martial respect.

But unfortunately for them, Unwi wasn’t finished.

Among them, only Cheonpung was still able to raise his head.

You could say it was because he had been away with Unwi—but more than that, based on his past actions, Cheonpung followed Unwi deeply.

No—he didn’t just follow him. He earnestly aspired to become like Unwi.

He might be excessively simple, but Unwi valued that the most.

Because if it were Cheonpung, regardless of success or failure, he would have drawn his sword against them.

That much, Unwi believed without doubt.

“Ju Soa.”

“...Yes.”

“Your position as sub-branch lord is revoked.”

“...Yes...”

“From now on, Cheonpung—you’re the sub-branch lord of Yangryeong. Take them and sever Jeogan’s transport lines.”

Cheonpung grinned and rose to his feet.

“Thank you for entrusting me with this great responsibility!”

Yes—this felt right.

“You’re to depart immediately. And on the way, bring back Yangso of Seolap and Han /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ Seokhyeon of the Cheonha Merchant Guild.”

Cheonpung saluted.

“At—your—command!!”

“I trust you will meet expectations.”

“I won’t let you down, Branch Lord.”

***

He couldn’t stop smiling.

“...Hey. Are you happy or something?”

At Ju Soa’s question, Cheonpung blinked like she was being ridiculous.

“Hey?”

“...”

“The discipline in this branch is in shambles. I’m the sub-branch lord, and you’re just a division member. Don’t you understand hierarchy?”

“...You’ve grown up a lot, huh, Cheonpung?”

“I’ve always been bigger than you.”

Ju Soa let out a sigh. She didn’t know what to make of this.

Not long ago, she used to beat him into shape—and now his rank was higher than hers.

He wasn’t the crown prince of a kingdom, nor an heir to some great northern sect. In martial society, it made no sense for someone of lower cultivation to act like a superior.

Unless, of course, one was someone’s subordinate.

As sub-branch lord, Cheonpung now represented Branch Lord Unwi.

“So why’d you go and mess up in the first place?”

“...As if you would’ve done any differen—wait. Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t.”

Having trained him, Ju Soa knew it for certain.

Cheonpung was insane.

He didn’t have Unwi’s intelligence, but he was so overwhelmingly simple that his actions often resembled Unwi’s.

He didn’t scheme or overthink—he just had a clear sense of right and wrong.

If it had been Cheonpung, he would’ve immediately judged the Sacheon Alliance’s inspection as wrong—and swung his sword without hesitation.

He wouldn’t even stop to think about the consequences.

That’s just how he was.

Cheonpung slung his arm over Ju Soa’s shoulder, grinning.

“You know how soft our Branch Lord is, right?”

“...What do you mean... ‘soft’?”

“Come on, you really don’t know how delicate he is? Seriously?”

Somewhere, this man had gotten the wrong idea. Unwi was not delicate.

Where had this delusion even started?

Ju Soa had no idea. And Cheonpung kept going.

“Our Branch Lord, you know—when Commander Seong was sick, he suffered more than the man himself. You should’ve seen his face in that carriage... whew... That look. I thought—‘I have to support him.’ That’s what’s right.”

“...Are you insane?”

“I’m perfectly sane.”

“...”

“And hey, if you play your cards right, who knows? Maybe I’ll get promoted to branch lord—and you’ll be reinstated as sub-branch lord.”

“...Are you serious?”

“‘Are you serious?’ What happened to formal speech?”

“...Are you serious, sir?”

“I’m dead serious.”

The one who interrupted their nonsense was Wonyang.

“So, uh... what should we do first?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Head to Jeogan and wipe out every convoy we see.”

“...What if some of them aren’t affiliated with Jeogan sects?”

“Then we ask politely.”

“You think they’ll just tell us?”

“Wonyang, listen. When you’ve got a sword at your throat, no one lies.”

Speechless, Wonyang shut her mouth. This time, Han Murin stepped in.

“Let’s go to the Beggars’ Guild and buy intel.”

“The Beggars’ Guild?”

“Yes. There’s always a reason our Branch Lord gives a task—and the number ‘one hundred’ wasn’t random. First, we’ll go to the Beggars’ Guild, get a list of convoys returning to Jeogan today and tomorrow, and then plan the most efficient route. One by one, we’ll wipe them out. That’s how I think we should proceed... Sub-branch Lord Cheonpung.”

A huge grin spread across Cheonpung’s face.

“Yes! That’s what I’m talking about!”

“...”

“Let’s head to the Beggars’ Guild first!”

Ju Soa looked at his back and sighed deeply.

Now she understood—at least roughly—why Unwi had appointed Cheonpung as sub-branch lord.

That guy was a lone wolf. His temperament was naturally suited for it.

But if given proper guidance and direction, he could move faster than anyone else.

In that sense... maybe Unwi was soft.

She didn’t know.

“Ju Soa, you coming or what?”

“...Yeah, I’m coming.”