With trembling hands, he rummaged through his storage pouch.

It wasn’t that he had prepared for a moment like this—but when did the world ever go according to plan?

The elixirs and medicinal herbs he had packed just in case were now exactly what he needed.

He pulled them out without hesitation.

Three Baeknyeon Bingshimdan (Hundred-Year Ice Heart Pills), five drops of Osipnyeon Seolsucheong (Fifty-Year Snow Marrow Essence), three roots of Bingseol Yeonhwa (Ice-Snow Lotus), and four roots of Hanbing Baekricho (Hundred-League Cold Ice Grass).

Too much is as bad as too little, they say.

But in a situation like this, too much was precisely what was needed.

Back in Seolap, when he had restored his qi channels tainted by bloodlust, he had taken these—but now the quantity was far greater, and so was the quality.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he shoved them into his mouth one after another.

Blood welled up from his throat, but he swallowed it all down.

If he didn’t take these now, he would be bedridden for ten ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) days. With them, he might cut it down to just one or two. So the choice was clear.

He circulated the energy swiftly, purifying and restoring his contaminated blood vessels.

Haa...

Panting, he forced himself to stand.

His insides were churning, but for now—he was holding on.

Cheonpung spoke.

“Heheh... Lord, I wasn’t swayed by that old man’s words in the slightest. You know I’d never doubt you, right?”

“I know.”

“That bastard Woorin really knows how to spout crap. Saying our Lord is part of the Cheon Clan—what kind of bullshit is that? If he’d seen you shedding tears for your second brother, he’d have swallowed his tongue.”

“I... cried?”

“You didn’t?”

“I don’t think I did.”

Cheonpung’s memory seemed to be embellishing quite a bit, but he didn’t bother correcting him.

It wasn’t the first time—or even the tenth. He could let it slide.

From behind, a gentle and refreshing energy entered his body. It was Wonyang.

“Wonyang.”

“...Yes... Ta- no, Lord...”

“That’s enough.”

“...But...”

“I’ve quelled the worst of the fire with the medicine’s energy. If you and the others add your qi on top of that, it might push it beyond my control. So stop.”

At that, the two others who had been preparing to send him their energy also backed off.

He rested his chin in his hand for a moment.

He hadn’t met Ijagyeom of the Red Eyes in person, but the situation alone told him plenty.

He pieced together the intel. Connected people, motives, consequences.

The full picture was unfolding in his mind.

To be honest, he hadn’t specifically suspected Hondo Mayeomgung.

He had considered the external branches of Saman or one of the Eight Neutral Great Clans—but of all things, it had to be Hondo Mayeomgung.

Worse than the who was the when.

If it had been him, he’d have finalized all talks before entering Yangryeong.

He had killed the two warriors from the Sacheon Alliance ten days and one night ago. Ijagyeom had entered Yangryeong with Red-Eyed sects six days ago.

And only now—now—a single person from Hondo Mayeomgung was heading to Red Eyes.

Which meant their deal was still only in the discussion phase.

In that case, what he had to do was obvious.

In fact, there was only one thing to do.

Woorin of the Black Flame Demon Beast never reached the Red Eyes.

He had to alter the situation so no one could discern the truth.

“You may not understand right away, but listen well. I was never here today.”

“...What?”

“But you all slaughtered the Red Eyes’ merchant convoy right here.”

The branch members blinked.

“During that time, you never saw Woorin. Understood?”

They all nodded.

“Then go. Go help Ju Soa.”

Only then did they notice her walking to the other side.

It was undoubtedly the convoy of Hwayoung Sword Sect.

According to Beggar Clan’s secret transmissions, their numbers totaled around sixty.

Hack.

He coughed up blood.

The veins beneath his skin squirmed violently, and dark, blood-like fluid leaked from the corner of his lips.

“...Lord...”

At Han Murin’s worried voice, he silently patted her shoulder.

“Tell Ju Soa—not to kill them all. She must make it look like she tried to wipe them out but failed.”

“...Yes. I’ll tell her.”

“You have until handa-gyeong. Everything must be done and you must leave this place by then. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Then go.”

““Yes, Lord!””

***

The main hall of the Hwayoung Sword Sect was magnificent. Crimson tiles and vermilion pillars that once gleamed under sunlight were now draped in darkness.

Drip. Drip.

The sound of rainwater broke the silence.

Ijagyeom stared at the corpses before him without a single change in expression.

They were laid out neatly—but most of them were mangled beyond recognition.

Limbs severed, torsos split—these were corpses in name only. Identifying them was next to impossible.

These were the five merchant convoys that were supposed to return to Red Eyes today.

No exaggeration—this was all that was left.

The money, the goods, everything they were supposed to bring was gone.

Warriors, porters, and merchants—nearly two hundred people. But all that returned were bodies and survivors.

That’s right. Survivors.

Twenty of them.

Wounded, but alive.

After surveying them briefly, Ijagyeom turned to the subordinate standing beside him—Branch Lord Hong Jagyeong.

“You said they were placed in storage pouches, correct?”

“...Yes. The cargo from all five convoys would have filled nearly twenty wagons. If it all fit, it must’ve been a high-grade pouch.”

“High-grade... I see.”

Ijagyeom’s voice was calm, but beneath it simmered rage.

As the ruler of Red Eyes, he suppressed his emotions completely.

Not even the twitch of an eye or a wrinkle in his brow betrayed his thoughts.

That’s the power that allowed him to command even Red Eyes’ military governor.

Master of the Hwayoung Sword Sect. A master of Ipsingyeong (Entered the Divine Realm).

He had acquired Yeolhwa Cheongyeol (Heavenly Inferno Formula), a secret martial art of the legendary Flame Sword Lineage from the Age of Genesis—allowing him to wield flame freely.

Lotus Heart Lord Ijagyeom.

Slowly, he turned his gaze to a man in black official robes.

It was Jinmu, Red Eyes’ inspector.

Ijagyeom’s question was brief.

“Report?”

Jinmu bowed and replied.

“Confirmed. There were four culprits, Lord.”

“Details.”

“Yes. Based on survivor testimonies and traces at the scene, it appears four attackers ambushed the convoys. They are currently believed to be branch members from Yangryeong.”

Ijagyeom’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Proof?”

“Witnesses couldn’t make out faces due to the rain, but physique and martial style matched. One was a giant wielding a massive sword—the strike zones exploded upon contact. That’s Cheonsal Nangseonggyeol, a Heavenly-class technique used by Yangryeong’s unit. Another was a woman with a slender sword using Salgeommun sword arts. Her level matched Ogi Jowon, and her technique aligns with Thousand-Handed Beauty Ju Soa. As for the other two...”

“That’s enough.”

Ijagyeom raised a hand, cutting Jinmu off.

“But what about Woorin?”

Jinmu’s face stiffened slightly.

“That... is the most inexplicable part, Lord.”

“Go on.”

“According to the supervisor of the final convoy, Lord Woorin smelled blood and declared someone had made a move. He said, ‘I’ll take care of it—prepare for departure slowly.’”

“And?”

“He never returned. The convoy eventually departed... and was attacked. Woorin’s whereabouts are still unknown.”

Doubt flickered in Ijagyeom’s eyes.

“A master of Ipsingyeong defeated by warriors in Ogi Jowon? That’s absurd.”

Jinmu nodded.

“I think so as well. What’s more, something was odd at the scene.”

“What was it?”

“There were clear traces of Ju Soa’s inner energy and sword. The ground, weakened by rain, had collapsed from her power. But...”

Jinmu paused, taking a breath.

“But there were no signs of a Divine Realm master. It’s as if... Lord Woorin never fought at all.”

Ijagyeom’s brow furrowed slightly—a rare and significant show of emotion.

That’s right. This situation was deeply strange.

A master like Woorin, vanished?

It wasn’t just improbable—it was unnatural.

No fight. No trace. Just... gone.

“It’s as if they never encountered each other.”

“...Lord.”

“Speak.”

“I’ve worked as inspector for over a decade. I’ve handled hundreds of cases. Based on everything I’ve seen, I can only conclude—Lord Woorin moved to confront the attackers... but disappeared before even meeting them.”

And Ijagyeom agreed.

Even if, by some miracle, the Yangryeong branch members had defeated Woorin and erased the evidence, they would have paid a severe price.

At least one would’ve died—or lost limbs.

But all four were intact. And all four attacked the Hwayoung convoys.

Looking at the facts, Woorin must have encountered someone else... and vanished.

That was the only explanation. But still—it felt wrong.

Something didn’t sit right.

“One thing bothers me... Where was Yangryeong’s branch leader during all this?”

Branch Lord Hong Jagyeong stepped forward.

“Lord, at that time, Seol Unwi was in Yangryeong. According to our reports, he caused an incident at Yangryeong Hall, stopped by his branch, then took his people to the Oksu mine.”

“Any absences?”

“Other than briefly stopping at the branch, none.”

“Who was present at the branch?”

“Seong Yangho. From the Baekseol Wilyeongdan.”

At that name, Ijagyeom’s eyebrow twitched.

“He was gravely injured and couldn’t move... so Unwi visited to check on him?”

“That seems to be the case.”

Silence fell over the room.

Everyone waited for Ijagyeom’s next decision.

He spoke slowly.

“Track Woorin. Find out why he disappeared.”

This—no matter what came next—had to be resolved.

Making an enemy of Hondo Mayeomgung was insanity.

Even the Sacheon Alliance’s main faction would avoid that.

They needed, at the very least, an explanation for Woorin’s disappearance.

“And since Yangryeong’s branch lord wants to play games... let’s entertain him a little.”

Ijagyeom’s eyes turned cold.

He saw Seol Unwi’s scheme as clear as day.