“I’ll allot you a little time later. For now, wait.”

My brow knotted hard.

This arrogant bastard.

He might have strutted about when he was in the Everlasting Snow Palace—but this is the very heart of the Central Plains.

A mere Ogijo-level maggot dares—

Ignoring the Baek Mujin who was about to flare up, Unhwi turned his gaze straight to Jang Cheonun.

“I believe I gave you a chance. Did it not suit you?”

“...Seongjakju is ours. You’ve crossed the line far, far beyond measure and even dared to try and control me. I’ve not the slightest intention of crawling under some snot-nosed whelp like y—”

“Is it that moment you lost to me that gnaws at you?”

“...”

“Pathetic. All of you here—including you—had a time when you were the weak. Having trod past that time and grown strong, having won power and thrown your weight around in one region, have you forgotten it?”

“...What are you trying to say.”

“In those days as the weak, you lost more than once. Each time, you stood back up. But look at you now. For a nick to your little face and the petty authority you’ve gained, you won’t even admit what must be admitted, thrashing as you are. Truly contemptible.”

Jang Cheonun didn’t realize it: the fist he was clenching was trembling.

This time Unhwi looked to Shin Nayoung, the head of the Fragrant Flower Troupe beside him.

“And what is it you’re dissatisfied with?”

“...I don’t want to yield Seongjakju’s authority.”

“Yielding, you say... I recognized your authority as it stood, and I had no particular intention of sweeping you aside, yet you talk as if I took it from you.”

“Aren’t you trying to take it in the end?”

Unhwi let out a thin laugh.

“You know it isn’t that, and so do I. Why can’t you be honest when things have come this far?”

“...”

“Ihwa Sword Heaven Sect must have presented a new organizational chart for the Seongjak Union. I probably won’t be killed. They’ll subdue me and try to collar my neck. With poison, say—”

Unhwi shook his head.

“No, not mere poison. A gu. At least God of War–grade or higher. Make me a puppet with it, stand me up as a shield, and split the profits with Ihwa Sword Heaven Sect. Not only you, but Nak Hae-wang there beside you.”

At the insight that sounded like madness, Shin Nayoung—and everyone there—swallowed.

How can he know without seeing it?

Is this even possible?

“I’ll give you one chance. Right now—cut down the ones at your side. Do that, and you live.”

Jang Cheonun snorted through his nose, and Nak Hae-wang and Shin Nayoung, wordless, drew their respective weapons.

“I did give you a chance. You’re the ones who kicked it aside—don’t call it unjust.”

Quietly,

Unhwi tapped the stone stele in front of him with his foot.

As the stele collapsed—

Paaaaaaaaang—!!

A vast formless barrier wrapped the entirety of Cheonryong Hall.

Everyone—including Baek Mujin—was aghast.

How could they not be?

There are countless formations in the martial world, but none that throw a membrane so immense over all like this.

Baek Mujin quietly drew a dagger from his breast and flicked it outward.

Kaaang—!

It struck some kind of barrier—and rang like steel on steel.

Baek Mujin shut his mouth.

In that brief moment, he perceived it.

...My inner power... isn’t obeying.

Yes.

When he threw the dagger, he’d roused his inner strength and cast—but the energy that was moving froze the instant it left his dantian, and only the dagger flew.

...What is this formation?

If it merely restricted energy, it could be broken.

Just then, as Baek Mujin’s hand was feeling for the gu in his breast—

Wuuuuuuuung—!

An eardrum-splitting roar rolled out across the central court, and energies erupting from the eight directions tangled like mad.

From the north, blades cold as ice; from the south, hellfire; from the east, a thunderbolt’s destructive force; from the west, a swamp’s devouring pull—all at once, all surging.

And all of them twisted together at center into a single vast maelstrom.

This is insane...!

Not only Baek Mujin—every martial man who had come in with him was rattled. The inner power within their bodies had started to rampage on its own.

Energy that should have flowed naturally now tried to reverse.

Qi that should start from the dantian and circulate outward tried to spear up toward the heart, and energy that should spread into the limbs jammed toward the head.

“Gahhhhhh!”

“W-what is this!”

“Master! I—I can’t control my inner power!”

Thrown into chaos, martial men screamed. Some spat blood; some dropped to their knees.

But Unhwi and Commander Seong were different.

The two already knew the formation’s effects perfectly. They reversed the direction of their circulation and cycled their energy in a way wholly different from the norm.

—Half a quarter-hour. Once half a quarter passes, withdraw your energy at once and return to this very spot.

At Unhwi’s sound-transmission, Seong nodded and drew a dagger in each hand from the sheaths at his belt.

It was natural.

Murderous intent exploded from both their bodies.

As if on a cue, Seong moved left, and Unhwi moved right.

Slice—!

Something leapt skyward to Baek Mujin’s right.

Nak Hae-wang of the Iron Ship Hall—his head.

His torso still stood there; only the head had flown up into the air.

Blood geysered.

Slice—!

The same thing happened right beside him. Shin Nayoung of the Fragrant Flower Troupe.

Though she stood at the Harmonization Stage, her head too separated from her body and shot up to the sky.

When... When in the hell—?

Baek Mujin swallowed.

He’d seen Unhwi’s charge from the front, but Seong’s movement—he hadn’t seen at all.

He’d heard the man had stepped up into the Mythic Realm, but to this degree?

This was no ordinary Mythic Realm.

Immediately, the head of a Harmonization Stage fighter dispatched from Ihwa Sword Heaven Sect leapt skyward.

Before he could even decide to respond, a keen sword-wind whistled at Baek Mujin’s ear.

He ripped out his sword and blocked.

KWAANG—!

A thunderous bang shook him as his body skidded sideways.

His hand stung.

It was Unhwi.

The destructive force carried in that arrogant bastard’s blade had shoved him back.

It was absurd, and it rattled him.

Just what—

“...What is this formation!”

“I’ve asked all the questions and given all the answers I need. I will kill you; I will kill Jang Icheong; and I will topple Ihwa Sword Heaven Sect.”

“...You crazy bastard—can’t even tell what should and shouldn’t be—”

He jerked his head back in panic.

Unhwi’s blade flashed in, grazing his cheek.

Scrrrrip—!

With a slicing note, shorn hair pattered to the ground.

He’d evaded the first stroke—but that was only the start.

Unhwi’s sword-strikes poured down in a torrent.

Cold roared through all quarters—it had to be the Absolute Frost Ghost-Void Sword of the Myriad Snow Compendium, rumored though it was.

He clenched his teeth.

KWAANG! KWA-AANG! KWAAAANG—!!

After he parried the third strike and moved to counter, his rear foot suddenly sank.

Only a chon deep—barely an inch—but in that heartbeat his balance slipped.

Thuk—!

Unhwi’s Heavenshaking Spiritblade rammed into Baek Mujin’s left shoulder. As it sheared sideways, the left clavicle split right open.

“Kh...!”

The pain flooding from his left arm was one thing; it wouldn’t move.

As good as cut off.

“You... you son of a—!”

He lashed out with a kick.

Whump—!

It smashed into Unhwi’s abdomen and shoved him skidding back.

Baek Mujin stamped down and sprang.

Energy surged up his leg.

There was a reason he was a Mythic Realm martial man.

In grasping a phenomenon, he could at least draw a faster, truer conclusion than the others here.

This formation reverses the qi of everyone inside.

To use proper inner power, you have to set your circulation opposite.

It isn’t easy—but what won’t a man do to live.

Any martial man would be thrown for a moment; Unhwi struck right into that gap, and it landed clean.

But this is as far as that goes.

The sword in his right hand shaved Unhwi’s cheek.

Scrrriip—!

Blood misted.

He flipped the blade and chopped down.

Scrrip—!

Unhwi’s right shoulder split open.

Then—shhk—his left thigh was slashed; after that, his flank.

His circulation wasn’t perfect, and he couldn’t fully unfold his arts—

No matter.

Now was the timing.

Baek Mujin’s eyes flashed.

His shoulder swept in a savage arc.

Profound Moon Severing Method.

A chill, moonlit force burst from his sword.

A ripping keen carved the air.

Then his sword strike split as if into three moons and streaked for Unhwi.

The first sword-light aimed at the neck, the second at the heart, the third at the dantian.

A sword ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) art brutal to the core—seizing the opponent’s three vital points in a single salvo to render him incapable of resistance: that was the Profound Moon Severing Method.

A cold smile tugged his lips.

He’d lost an arm, but he did not doubt victory.

A technique that targets three kill-points at once—no matter how excellent Unhwi was, to block all three—

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The unbelievable happened.

Unhwi’s Heavenshaking Spiritblade flashed like lightning and smashed every one of the three sword-lights.

This... this lunacy...!

Baek Mujin reeled—but shook his head at once.

He reversed his flow again and swept his sword.

The same three sword-lights spearing forward each split again—into nine.

Syaeaeaeak—!

They swarmed Unhwi from every direction.

From above, below, left, right—even from behind.

The Profound Moon Severing Method’s second evolution.

Nine-Moon Linked Severing.

This time, he was certain he could leave the bastard half-crippled.

But the instant he saw the smile lift at Unhwi’s mouth, he knew something was wrong.

“A fine sword art.”

Unhwi swung the Heavenshaking Spiritblade in a great arc.

Jjeo-o-ong—!!

With a roar, four of the sword-lights shattered, and as he slid sideways, five pulverized empty air where he’d just been.

“...To open a space to evade, you cancel trajectories coming from a fixed sector, then neutralize the remainder?”

“You do have an eye.”