Before even a full day had passed, people once again gathered at the Oksu Village gold mine.

It was the Sect Leader of the Thunderblade Sword Sect, Song Euigyeong, along with three sects under his banner.

What greeted them first were the corpses.

“......”

Song Euigyeong and the other sect leaders silently stared at the bodies. It was horrific.

They’d been piled in one place like garbage.

Even demonic cult bastards wouldn’t treat corpses like this.

Then, their gazes turned to Seol Unwi, who was sitting leisurely against a stone wall.

“You’re a bit late,” Unwi said.

“...Is /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ this... how the Snow Palace conducts itself?”

When he said “this,” he was referring to multiple things.

The way the dead martial artists were treated. The decision to answer with annihilation rather than negotiation. Many things. But Unwi responded with a brief, all-encompassing answer.

“This is my way.”

“...And that’s supposed to be a valid answer?”

“What have you been listening to until now?”

“......”

“Senior Song. This isn’t even ancient history. Surely you’ve heard what happened at the two mines between Yangnyeong and Seorap.”

“......”

“It’s the same. I have no intention of pacifying the jackals who covet what’s mine with mere words. If they crawl up shamelessly, not knowing their place, then dying is only fitting, wouldn’t you say?”

Song Euigyeong narrowed his eyes coldly at Unwi. The man was clearly seriously wounded. It was evident he couldn’t use his right arm properly.

That someone at Three Flowers Gathering Purity had killed Sugwangho of the Harmonization Stage was shocking enough—but what came after was more important.

And yet there he was, seated calmly without Seong Yangho by his side.

How was one to interpret this?

Did the man perhaps have two lives?

Song Euigyeong pondered.

He had assumed there was no path forward—but now, it seemed... maybe there was.

What if he killed Unwi right now—and wiped out everyone here?

He, a master of the Harmonization Stage, was certainly capable of doing so.

And the three sect leaders with him were all experts at the Five Banners Form. One of them was only a half-step away from Harmonization Stage.

If they made up their minds, they could slaughter everyone here.

And yet, despite that, Unwi still looked completely at ease.

“Since you’re here, it seems now would be a good time for the conversation you so dearly wanted,” Unwi said.

“A conversation...”

“Yes. Let me be clear. From this point forward, the Oksu Village gold mine belongs to Yangnyeong. I trust you won’t set eyes on it—or even come near it—ever again.”

“...That’s a conversation? Sounds more like a threat.”

“I consider it a conversation. How you interpret it is none of my concern.”

“...You’re truly arrogant. What if I kill you here and now?”

Unwi let out a soft scoff.

“...Did you just laugh? The Thousand-Handed Beauty Ju Soa beside you—she may be the highest-ranked martial artist here with her Five Banners Form, but are you truly unaware that if we so much as decided to act, everyone here—including you—would be dead?”

“That’s not how threats are made, senior.”

“...What?”

“Coming here was already a choice. Choosing not to draw your blade was also a choice. And talking instead of acting... that, too, must have its reasons. I’d wager it’s because you realized you’ve become a ‘stone’ on the board. Judging by your expression... I’m right, aren’t I?”

If he wanted to kill Unwi and everyone else here, he absolutely could.

But he couldn’t.

He simply couldn’t act.

And the reason was painfully real.

“If you wish to turn both the Everlasting Snow Palace and the Martial Alliance into your enemies, I won’t stop you.”

Exactly.

If Song Euigyeong made a move now, he’d become an enemy of both the Snow Palace and the Martial Alliance.

This wasn’t something he could pass off as “avenging Sugwangho.”

“Someone within the Martial Alliance set this board in motion. It reeks of Gun Mugyeol, but he doesn’t play like this. Most likely, this was arranged by Vice Alliance Lord Jegal Yeonghyeon. If you’re confident you can shatter the game he’s set, then go ahead—take my head.”

Truly offering it, Unwi rose from his seat and walked toward Song Euigyeong.

He was completely exposed, not drawing a single thread of internal energy.

Wonyang tried to stop him—but surprisingly, it was Han Murin who stopped her. Ju Soa did the same.

They hadn’t known him for that long, but they understood the kind of man he was.

With hundreds of martial artists watching, Unwi walked forward—until he stood directly before Song Euigyeong.

Infuriated by the absurdity of it, Song Euigyeong drew his sword and brought it to Unwi’s throat.

Unwi didn’t blink. He simply looked back, silently.

“...What the hell are you?”

“In situations like this, many have asked me that same question. But really, why ask a question when the answer is already known?”

Unwi smiled faintly.

“I’m Seol Unwi. Illegitimate son of the Everlasting Snow Palace, and the fifth heir of the Polar Line—Hyeon Seollin. Nothing more.”

“......”

“Well? Are you confident you can shatter the game?”

Song Euigyeong’s hand trembled.

That was the key.

From the moment Unwi killed Sugwangho, Song Euigyeong had no more options.

Silence was all that remained to him—and coming here had been little more than a way to save face.

Yet here he was, helping Unwi shine even brighter in front of everyone. It was maddening.

“You’re making me repeat myself. I asked: can you shatter the game?”

No.

Even staking everything—no.

He couldn’t even try.

Right now, the dead were only so many. But if he acted here, Bongnae’s ownership would change.

The Thunderblade Sword Sect—and the halls of the three other sects—would burn, and their disciples would all die.

“...So you can’t. Then remove that blade. No use keeping it there.”

As he said this, Unwi knocked Song Euigyeong’s sword aside and clasped his hands behind his back, speaking quietly.

“If you feared Tianlin so much that you borrowed the Snow Palace’s name, then be content with what little you received. Covet the mine, and you’ll lose everything.”

“...You’re no ordinary man. I never imagined you—a mere illegitimate child—would be reading the board.”

“I know.”

“No—you don’t. This board wasn’t set to target you. It was aimed at your ‘upper line.’”

By upper line, he meant the Snow Palace proper.

Sugwangho had clearly intended to kill Unwi.

But only because he believed Seong Yangho was present nearby.

If Unwi was fatally wounded, Seong Yangho would have to act.

And in doing so, he would kill Sugwangho.

In short, Sugwangho was destined to die today.

The higher-ups in the Martial Alliance had willed it. Just as Song Euigyeong said—this was a board set by one upper echelon against another.

But—

“Something this small doesn’t even deserve to reach our palace lord’s ears.”

“...What?”

“This is something I can handle myself. If Gun Mugyeol had acted directly, that’d be different. But it’s only Jegal’s final descendant—a man who calls himself a shadow. I can take care of him myself.”

Song Euigyeong let out a dry laugh.

This wasn’t just some lunatic—this was something else entirely.

“Can you really handle it?”

“You doubt it?”

He couldn’t answer easily.

This level of insight, execution, and ability to read the game...

The Seol Unwi before him had more value as a strategist than as a martial artist.

Maybe that was intentional, too.

“...Very well. I shall withdraw, for today...”

But he couldn’t finish.

CRAAACK—!!

The sky ripped with a thunderous boom—and fifteen swords fell from above, surrounding both Unwi and Song Euigyeong.

Just as Song Euigyeong tried to gather internal energy, he froze in place. Unwi, as though expecting it, didn’t move an inch.

He remained calm.

From the sky, a man descended.

Long braided hair.

Slender frame.

Roughly 6 cheok and 3 chi tall.

Sim Munryong.

At his appearance, all the martial artists from Bongnae instinctively took two steps back, including Song Euigyeong.

Sim Munryong looked at Song Euigyeong, then at the martial artists behind him—and finally at Unwi.

And then, he did something no one expected.

He dropped to his knees on the spot—and shouted:

“I pay my respects to Lord Hyeon Seollin!”

The sudden display of reverence from that usually frivolous man shocked everyone—but Unwi said nothing.

He simply stared at Sim Munryong.

Sim Munryong, his voice filled with conviction, shouted again:

“Just give the order, and I’ll carve off all their heads and bring them to you.”

The overseer who descended just after nearly tripped over himself.

What the hell’s wrong with that guy? Has he caught something?

Still watching Sim Munryong, Unwi turned his gaze back to Song Euigyeong.

“Senior Song.”

“...Speak.”

“There is a right time for all things. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“...I agree.”

“Who made the move doesn’t matter—it wasn’t you. You’re a piece on the board. And pieces ought to act like pieces.”

“......”

“When playing Go, sometimes a player intentionally leaves the opponent’s territory untouched. Just like now.”

“......”

“There will come a time when you’ll have the chance to make the right decision. When it comes, make sure you choose wisely. Understood?”

Song Euigyeong looked at him and quietly said:

“...Can I take the bodies?”

“Yes. Take them.”

“...Very well. If that opportunity you spoke of ever comes, I will make the right choice.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Song Euigyeong turned to his people and barked:

“Gather the bodies.”

“...Sect Leader!”

“I said, gather them!”

There were many corpses, but gathering them didn’t take long.

As Song Euigyeong began to depart, Unwi’s voice called out behind him.

“One more thing, Senior Song.”

Song Euigyeong turned back.

“There’s something else you should remember.”

“...And that is?”

“I am not the one to blame for the deaths of the Bongnae martial artists today.”

Some of the martial artists beside Song Euigyeong bristled at the absurdity of that—but he held up a hand and stopped them.

Because he knew.

“If you wish to blame the sword, go ahead. But then that’s all you’ll ever be.”

“......”

“If you want to be something more—remember today deeply.”

“...What exactly are you trying to say?”

“It’s a continuation of what I said earlier. One day, the chance to make the right call will come. And when it does, I hope this conversation echoes in your mind.”

“...It already is.”

“The people around you don’t seem to get it—but I trust that you will.”