Just as that thought had begun to settle in his mind, his rage surged again and pushed the thought away.

He had come this far. Whatever happened afterward, Seol Unwi would be beaten half to death.

He would pummel him until the words “spare me” spilled from his mouth.

He would make every resident of Yangryeong witness it and ensure that today would be remembered as Seolgung’s disgrace.

He would create history.

He was confident.

“We head for the Yangryeong Bunta.”

Lee Jagyeom began to walk again, and all who had come with him followed.

They passed the main road—again and again.

Arriving at the Bunta compound, Lee Jagyeom, without hesitation, smashed down the front pavilion and charged in.

Those who had followed him all entered as well, their numbers enough to fill the entire Bunta.

Roughly three hundred people.

And then—all of them froze.

They simply stood there, staring blankly at Lee Jagyeom.

Lee Jagyeom’s expression wasn’t much different.

No—it was worse.

All color had drained from his face. He was deathly pale.

It was the face of a man who had just realized—far too late—that something had gone catastrophically wrong.

It was understandable.

There was no one inside the Bunta.

It was empty.

Not a trace of presence—not even a single ant.

He couldn’t even speak.

The rage that had consumed Lee Jagyeom’s mind began to clear just a little.

His brain began to function again.

Seol Unwi.

His mind was undoubtedly sharp. A master of schemes.

He had toyed with Lee Jagyeom all this time, right in the palm of his hand.

If he now accepted that he was inferior to Seol Unwi—then a possible answer to this situation emerged.

“N... no way...”

Lee Jagyeom whipped his head around.

Though obscured by two outstretched mountains, beyond them—past two small towns—lay Jeokan.

And Lee Jagyeom had brought Jeokan’s martial force with him.

All three hundred of them.

Which meant Jeokan was now... empty.

No—not empty.

It wasn't just vacant.

His family was there. And the families of Ilmun, Samga, and Ijang. And the talents who would lead them into the future.

His mouth fell open.

“Ah... No...!”

And it wasn’t just Lee Jagyeom who realized.

Yeom Muyeom of the Yeom Clan, Hyeong Hwamuk of the Hyeong Clan, and Pung Sohyeon of Cheongpung Hall grasped it too.

Yeom Muyeom spoke.

“...Sir Lee... We must return immediately. Right now...!”

But there was dissent.

From Hyeong Hwamuk.

“...At this point, we’re past the point of no return. Let’s just wipe out every living thing in Yangryeong. The ones from the Heavenly Trade Guild, or the ones from the Shin Clan—there must be some of them here.”

That wasn’t the worst idea.

If Jeokan had already been emptied, then Yangryeong should gain nothing either.

He was still entertaining that thought when—

“I greet you for the first time.”

A sudden voice made Lee Jagyeom turn.

Three sashes hung from the man’s belt—impressive.

The man smiled and saluted.

“I am Jang Seok, head of the Yangryeong Branch of the Beggars’ Union.”

“...What business do you have, Beggars’ Union?”

“Nothing major. I came to provide you with some information.”

Lee Jagyeom’s brow furrowed.

“...Information?”

“Yes. I imagine you’re very confused right now. I’d like to help clear things up. I won’t ask for payment.”

“Then speak.”

“Gladly. Exactly three shichen ago, the martial artists of Yangryeong departed for Jeokan.”

“...Three shichen?”

“Yes. Seol Unwi, the Bunta Lord of Yangryeong, secretly summoned four elite warriors from each affiliated sect. Including the Bunta’s own personnel and the warriors from Bongrae, the number totaled around two hundred. They left for Jeokan.”

Lee Jagyeom’s brows drew even tighter.

Three shichen aside—

“There’s a Beggars’ Union branch in Jeokan too. Mun Seok of the Four Nodes is the branch head. He’s supposed to relay information to me directly—he didn’t report this. So how is it you know this? Why should I believe you?”

Jang Seok shook his head.

“I understand your suspicion, Sir Lee. But it’s the truth. Seol Unwi is leading those warriors through an alternate route over Hyeongu Mountain to reach Jeokan.”

“...An alternate route?”

“Yes. And as you’ve probably guessed by now, Yangryeong is completely empty. Even if you wanted to kill someone—you won’t find a soul. The warriors that weren’t taken along went to Oksu Village. That number exceeds eight hundred. Naturally...”

“...The Heavenly Trade Guild had a hand in this.”

Jang Seok nodded. And as if waiting for that moment, he got straight to the point.

“I’d like to offer my allegiance to you, Sir Lee.”

“...”

“If you handle this situation well, I ask that you consider me for a position of importance.”

“You have your eye on the Jeokan branch?”

“Yes.”

Lee Jagyeom thought.

Jang Seok was of the Beggars’ Union. He could be one of Seol Unwi’s people—but informants were always little more than bats, flying whichever way the wind blew.

The situation wasn’t that implausible.

If not, then Jang Seok was essentially declaring war on the Sichuan Alliance, and that made no sense either.

“...Jang Seok. I’ll remember your name.”

“Thank you, Sir Lee.”

Lee Jagyeom fell deep into thought.

The information held merit.

After all, during the entire trip from Jeokan to here, they hadn’t seen a single trace of Seol Unwi—not even his shadow.

If, as Jang Seok claimed, they had departed three shichen ago and took the mountain route—

‘Three shichen ago... If they moved through the mountains, of course Jeokan’s Beggars’ Union wouldn’t notice. In that case...’

Lee Jagyeom’s eyes flashed.

“We return to Jeokan. Immediately.”

“...Sir—!”

It was Hyeong Hwamuk, who’d wanted to raze Yangryeong.

He didn’t understand.

“Clan Leader Hyeong.”

“...Yes.”

“Don’t you get it?”

“...What do you mean?”

“If over two hundred men are detouring around Hyeongu Mountain to reach Jeokan—how long do you think that would take?”

“...”

“At least six shichen. It took us only four to get from Jeokan to Yangryeong.”

And they’d come riding horses.

“If we cut through two mountains using lightfoot techniques, we could reduce those four shichen to three—or maybe even two and a half. That means—we can outrun them.”

The other martial artists’ eyes widened.

“...You mean...”

“Yes. If we set out now and get there first, we can wipe out Seol Unwi’s forces in one fell swoop.”

They had come prepared to fight. So they had hoped to conserve internal energy if possible.

But if they simply endured and pushed ahead—this could become a decisive stroke of brilliance.

They just had to get ahead. No matter what.

It was more than plausible—it was worth trying.

Lee Jagyeom shouted,

“We’re turning back! Move now!”

“As you command!”

And then—

“Jang Seok. Come here.”

Jang Seok, waiting nearby, stepped forward at Lee Jagyeom’s call.

“You’re truly placing yourself under Jeokan and the Sichuan Alliance?”

Jang Seok gave a smooth smile.

“Of course, Sir Lee.”

“Then...”

Trailing off, Lee Jagyeom handed him two jade bottles filled with a red liquid.

“This is Ten Thousand Serpents Wandering-Soul Powder (만사유혼산).”

Jang Seok’s eyes twitched.

“There are three wells in Yangryeong, if I recall correctly. Pour this poison into them all.”

Jang Seok looked at him, trembling.

“...Do we... really have to?”

“Tch. Didn’t you say you were siding with Jeokan and the Sichuan Alliance? If we crush Yangryeong with the information you gave us, you’ll be given command of the Jeokan branch immediately and be protected by the Alliance. You’ll be the hero of this operation... or are you afraid?”

Jang Seok shook his head.

“No. I’m not afraid. I’ll do it.”

Lee Jagyeom immediately pointed to two warriors from Hwar Yeong Sword Sect and ordered,

“You two assist this man in poisoning the wells, then return to Jeokan.”

Looking at Jang Seok’s twitching gaze, Lee Jagyeom gave a gentle smile.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. I’m sure you understand... don’t you?”

“I do. Of course. This is only natural.”

Lee Jagyeom smiled softly.

“Listen well. Once you board this ship—it’s no longer your job to decide where it sails. That’s mine.”

“...Yes.”

“I plan to craft a little tale. That arrogant Seol Unwi led his warriors to Jeokan. And during that time, he poisoned the wells—intending to massacre the people of Yangryeong.”

“...”

“A truly vile man, is he not? To cover his own shame, he attempts to wipe out civilians with poison... and even uses Ten Thousand Serpents Wandering-Soul Powder, hoping to frame me for the act. My heart aches.”

“...”

“Jang Seok. What do you think of this story?”

“...It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it the disgrace of eternal Seolgung.”

“Yes. That’s right. And you—you must be the one to conclude that story. Can you do it?”

“...Leave it to me.”

Lee Jagyeom patted Jang Seok on the shoulder and turned away.

Time was of the essence.

***

Jang Seok wiped his face.

Ten Thousand Serpents Wandering-Soul Powder.

If a Beggars’ Union informant didn’t know about it—he ought to drop dead.

If consumed, an antidote must be taken within four shichen to survive.

The effects are simple.

Within the first shichen: cold sweat.

After a quarter shichen: blood vessels in the eyes burst, limbs go numb.

After another quarter: pus leaks from the ears, a burning pain consumes the entire body.

After another: skin bursts open, oozing pus and blood.

And after yet another: blood gushes not only from the seven orifices but from every pore of the skin.

From that point—it becomes a battle against time.

A martial artist might endure another shichen.

A civilian? Dead within a quarter shichen.

While feeling every ounce of that agony.

These monsters—these inhuman bastards—intended to poison Yangryeong’s wells and kill its people.

Martial artists. Civilians. Everyone.

This was an act that would bring condemnation from all of Murim.

It demanded investigation—who ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) did it, who ordered it.

‘...Lee Jagyeom... you vile son of a bitch.’

Jang Seok hadn’t underestimated him.

But the moment he dropped this poison into the wells—he’d become an accomplice.

“What are you doing? Open it.”

He glanced at the two men beside him.

Their levels: Yanggwang Ihyeon, Oryong Bongseong.

Their names: Yak Sang and Beom Gaeseok.

They likely used a good amount of internal energy getting from Jeokan to Yangryeong, but it shouldn’t hinder their strength.

“Hehe... don’t worry.”

So said Jang Seok—then opened both jade bottles.

Beom Gaeseok blinked.

“Do you really need to open both? Just one should—uhgh!”

A grotesque sound escaped him.

That’s right.

Jang Seok had flung the contents of both bottles onto the two martial artists.