Once again—it bears repeating—no matter how vast the difference in cultivation, there’s always a way to overturn it.

The issue lies in whether one can find that way or not.

He briefly closed his eyes.

The martial art that rose to the forefront of his mind now was the Snowfall Compendium.

When he had first read through it, his father had remarked that it was a truly fine martial art. While the wording had been modest, from Unwi’s perspective, it had been nothing short of the highest praise.

It came to him.

The core incantation of the Snowfall Compendium.

“Mystic Ice Connects Heaven, Answers Ten Thousand Spirits.

Heonbingtongcheoneungmanryeong (玄冰通天應萬靈)

Heaven and Earth’s spiritual energy turns to ice and snow.

Cheonjiyounggihwabyeongseol (天地靈氣化氷雪)

Spirit-mystic energy flows through the Nine Heavens.

Yeonghyeonjigitonggucheon (靈玄之氣通九天)

The snow aura of ten thousand years becomes nature itself.”

Manjaeseolgihwanature (萬載雪氣化自然)

Based on that incantation, the Snowfall Compendium was composed of four poetic volumes—the Four Grand Verses—and four corresponding stages of cultivation.

The first stage: Response to Ice (응빙 / Eungbyeong).

It marked the beginning of perceiving the glacial energy contained within nature. A martial artist at the Flame-Screen Realm could only ever cultivate up to this stage.

The second stage: Sensing Spirit (감령 / Gamryeong).

From here onward, one began to wield the energy of nature itself, transforming it into the properties of ice and snow.

Only by beginning to harness nature’s energy could one make use of the Ice-Snow Qi—the essence of the Snowfall Compendium—and thus, true cultivation as a “Snow Person” began at this stage.

The third stage, Heaven’s Channel (통천 / Tongcheon), required one to reach the Heaven-and-Earth Spirit Realm to manipulate the spiritual qi of heaven and earth. The fourth stage, Mystic Fusion (현융 / Hyeonyung), was the same.

At that stage, a person fully harmonized with the Ice-Snow Qi itself—most likely the level his father had attained.

There was no doubt that it was a mighty martial art, but when each of its four stages was examined in detail, it became clear that the Snowfall Compendium was meant for martial artists at least in the Heaven-and-Earth Spirit Realm or above.

Only at that level could its destructive power manifest properly.

And so, he had struggled over it all this time.

How could he, with his current cultivation level, maximize the power of the Snowfall Compendium?

After countless hours of thought, he had arrived at an answer.

Heohyeonjigi (虛玄之氣).

That was his answer.

The qi that resulted from the harmony of innate purity and the destructive power of Blood Demon qi—he could confidently say it stood above all others.

The very fact that he had succeeded in blending two inherently opposing natures meant that its potential for transformation was limitless.

Destruction was the beginning of change; innate purity meant stability—and contained within it, the principle of reconstruction.

He opened his eyes.

Ice crystals were rising all around him.

Sugwangho, who had been silently watching, finally spoke.

“...So this is the famed Ice-Snow Qi of the Snowfall Compendium.”

Unwi shook his head.

“This is not Ice-Snow Qi. It is Heohyeonjigi.”

“...Heohyeon...jigi?”

“It exists.”

“...And you're telling me you've formed ice crystals with that? You, who's only at the Flame-Screen Realm?”

“Yes. When destruction and purity converge, they align with the logic of snow and ice—and this is the result.”

“If you truly developed this refinement yourself... then you are a genius among geniuses.”

He didn’t answer.

It wasn’t genius. It was simply the product of putting his past experiences to full use.

From this point on, he could exert the power of the second stage of the Snowfall Compendium—the Sensing Spirit stage. Naturally, he couldn’t sustain it for long.

Four moves at minimum. Seven at most.

That was his limit.

And that much would be enough.

Sugwangho then spoke to him.

“There’s something that’s been bothering me for a while.”

“What is it?”

“You stand so brazenly... even before me.”

He watched silently as Sugwangho continued.

“You act with the weight of a mighty warrior. That arrogance... irritates me.”

“Do I seem like someone boasting without basis?”

“...”

“Come, then. What are you hesitating for? Haven’t you already been abandoned by the Martial Alliance?”

“...”

“Whatever your crime, didn’t you come seeking an honorable death?”

At that, Sugwangho flinched.

“The reason I’ve continued to address you with respect, even after you’ve been cast down, is because I held in high regard the resolve of a man who has accepted that he will die today—no matter how it happens.”

Sugwangho’s eyes deepened.

“I show respect to one who seeks to die not as a criminal, but as a martial artist. So why must you keep trying to fight with your mouth?”

“...Fine. Let’s see if I can die with honor today. Come—show me!”

Even before his words finished, wind brushed past Unwi’s ear.

The killing intent suffusing the air pressed against his flesh.

Sugwangho’s body surged forth with terrifying speed—and Unwi immediately reached out his hand.

Qi erupted from his fingertips, instantly freezing the surrounding air.

Sugwangho, mid-charge, came to a dead halt.

He had no choice.

A forest of icy spikes had erupted around them both.

They glistened like morning dew—but their essence was wholly different.

It was killing intent, answered by nature itself.

Had Sugwangho charged in as he was, he would’ve been impaled.

“...A bizarre kind of energy, this is.”

That was the first move.

Unwi stepped forward—and instantly, the ground beneath Sugwangho’s feet froze solid. Sugwangho’s expression shifted.

Even in that fleeting moment, he realized his movement had been completely bound.

Unwi drew the dagger from his back and hurled it.

Shhhwick—!

It sliced through the air, aiming straight for Sugwangho’s head.

Clang—!!

A burst of blue qi exploded from Sugwangho’s sword, splitting the dagger midair. At the same time, the ice beneath his feet shattered into shards.

That was the second move.

Sugwangho kicked off again.

His eyes captured the position of every ice spike scattered through the air.

Before he reached Unwi, he shouted—

“Hah!!”

KRAAAANG—!!

With a thunderous roar, the icy spikes shattered in the air.

Through the shimmering fragments, Sugwangho’s blade surged toward Unwi.

Unwi pushed Heohyeonjigi into his legs and twisted to the side—but he couldn’t avoid it ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) completely.

A wet shlick rang out as blood and torn flesh splattered through the air.

His right shoulder.

It hadn’t merely grazed him—it had cut deep.

The wound was severe.

But he’d had worse.

The pain surged through him, but his gaze remained calm and focused.

Sugwangho’s sword hung frozen in midair—and the instant Unwi saw his opponent’s legs and shoulder muscles surge, he ducked.

Whoosh—!

The blade whooshed past above his head. A perfect dodge.

Perhaps surprised by the evasion, awe and confusion flickered across Sugwangho’s face—but it was meaningless.

Both of them were already preparing the next move.

Unwi thrust out his right palm.

Spirit Ice Connects Heaven Palm (Yeongbingtongcheonjang / 靈氷通天掌).

That was his third move.

CRAAACK—!!

The only palm technique recorded within the Sensing Spirit stage—though its power was incomplete, channeled through Heohyeonjigi, the essence had been perfectly reproduced.

The palm strike landed directly on Sugwangho’s solar plexus.

Thump—!

Sugwangho’s blade pierced through Unwi’s right shoulder.

“The eternal cold of spirit ice connects to heaven,

And the force that freezes all creation splits heaven and earth.

Now that... is Spirit Ice Connects Heaven Palm.”

In that moment, Sugwangho’s face held not pain—but rapture.

The satisfaction of having witnessed a martial technique of ultimate mastery.

That was the difference.

Unwi was already seeing his next move—and the one after that. Sugwangho had stopped.

Naturally, what followed went far beyond anything the man could have expected.

Unwi twisted the palm still pressed to Sugwangho’s solar plexus—and grabbed his sword.

Crackle crackle—!

The blade began to freeze.

Sugwangho panicked.

In that instant, Unwi extended his left hand and struck Sugwangho’s solar plexus once more.

Spirit Ice Connects Heaven Palm.

The spot froze solid, and as Sugwangho’s face twisted in agony, Unwi stepped forward.

The sword still lodged in his shoulder dug deeper—and Sugwangho’s arm, still clutching the hilt, trembled violently.

“A thousand years of ice and snow answers Heaven’s will,

Cheonnyeonbyeongseoreungcheonshim (千年氷雪應天心)

Nature’s energy becomes sacred mysticism.

Jayeonjigihwayeonghyeon (自然之氣化靈玄)

Ten thousand years of glacier resonate with spiritual force.

Manjaebyeonghatongyeonggi (萬載氷河通靈氣)

A single thought shatters the sky.”

Ilnyeomeunghwapochang-gong (一念應化破蒼空)

[Poem of Mystic Ice and Primordial Origin – Hyeonwon Byeongseol Si / 玄元氷雪詩]

The air around Sugwangho turned white as countless ice crystals bloomed—twinkling like stars before rapidly enclosing his body.

“This is my final move.”

Sugwangho couldn’t move.

What had frozen wasn’t just his exterior.

His insides—his blood vessels, organs, bones, and muscles—were all turning to ice.

“...Is that... truly one of the Four Grand Verses...?”

“Yes. The first: Poem of Mystic Ice and Primordial Origin.”

“...Truly... mystic indeed...”

Those were Sugwangho’s last words.

Even the breath that left his lips turned into a white ice crystal—and shattered.

Unwi gently pushed the top of Sugwangho’s frozen head.

His body, now completely ice, tipped backward—

CRASSSH—!!

And shattered like glass into thousands of fragments.

Five moves.

That was how many it took to kill a martial artist at the Harmonization Stage.

He pulled the sword from his shoulder. Blood surged forth.

A severe wound.

He’d need at least half a month to recover—but that was fine.

Silently staunching the bleeding, he surveyed his surroundings.

At some point, all fighting had ceased.

Quite a few martial artists from Bongnae were still alive.

Clearly, they hadn’t doubted Sugwangho’s victory. That was why their faces were now filled with shock.

He spoke in a low voice.

“Kill them all.”

The first to move was Wonyang. Then came Han Murin, a step slower. Then Cheonpung, and Ju Soa.

In an instant, four heads flew into the sky.

With slaughter resumed, the martial artists of Bongnae turned to flee—only to be chased by those from Yangnyeong.

Handagyeong.

That was how long it took for all of them to die.

***

(Section break)

“...It’s a deep wound.”

Wonyang’s trembling voice hung near Unwi’s ear. The spot where Sugwangho’s sword had pierced was deep, and the bleeding hadn’t stopped.

Wonyang’s fingertips hovered around the edge of the injury.

“I’m fine.”

So Unwi said—but Wonyang, without realizing it, shook her head.

There was no way he was fine. Fighting a martial artist at the Harmonization Stage had exacted a steep price. And yet, as if nothing had happened, Unwi gave the order to those present.

“Begin excavation of the mine.”

Once again: this mine belonged to Yangnyeong.

No—to be precise, it belonged to Unwi. He had taken it rightfully.

Whether it had originally belonged to Bongnae or not—that didn’t matter in the slightest.