Seolhwa gazed at the orb floating before her eyes.

From it emanated an indescribable, mystical energy.

[It is the essence of my inner force.]

An inner core?

All mystical beasts possessed an inner core.

It was said that consuming such a core would grant one immense internal strength.

However, even discovering a mystical beast was a once-in-a-lifetime miracle for ordinary martial artists—a fortuitous encounter beyond their reach.

Yet now, an inner core floated right before Seolhwa’s eyes.

And not just any core—it was the core of an imugi, said to be the greatest among all mystical beasts.

But if she consumed it, wouldn’t the imugi lose all its power and perish?

Seolhwa turned her gaze to the imugi.

As if reading her thoughts, the imugi spoke.

[Worry not. This is but a fragment of myself. Taking this shall not cause my disappearance.]

So that was it.

Indeed, a creature as powerful as an imugi would hardly offer up its core by sacrificing itself.

The imugi continued.

[Humans possess three energy centers. The one three inches below the navel is the lower dantian, which you commonly use. The other two are the middle dantian in the Scarlet Palace—your heart—and the upper dantian in the Sea of Marrow—your brain.]

Seolhwa had also heard of the three dantians.

It was said that when the lower dantian, the body’s meridians, and the Gate of Life and Death were all opened, one would reach the Hwagyeong Realm; and when the middle dantian was opened as well, one would ascend to the Hyeongyeong Realm.

That Hyeongyeong Realm was what Seolhwa assumed the Blood Demon had reached.

A level where one underwent metamorphosis, appearing youthful again, and could manipulate the sword without touching it.

A realm that far surpassed Namgoong Mucheon, who was already one of the most renowned masters of Hwagyeong.

As far as Seolhwa knew, the strongest being in the world.

And yet, even such a being had not opened the upper dantian.

[I shall fill your upper dantian with my inner force.]

Fill her upper dantian?

[It will take a long time for you to open your upper dantian. Until then, I shall use your dantian.]

“...I do not understand.”

Was that even possible?

To use a dantian that had not yet opened?

[My power is of a different nature than yours. If you take it in as you are now, you will undoubtedly fall into qi deviation. Thus, until you are ready to accept my power, I shall place it in your upper dantian.]

The imugi’s energy, rooted in darkness, was far too thick and could not mix with the clear qi of Namgoong’s lineage.

If Seolhwa’s cultivation had reached a point where she could transform the imugi’s qi into her own, it would have been different. But now, the imugi was an ocean while she was merely a lake.

That was why, rather than empowering her, the imugi’s force could consume her and lead to qi deviation. Thus, it chose the upper dantian as a vessel.

[You shall not be able to use the force stored in your upper dantian. But I shall become you and lend you my strength.]

“You will become me?”

[I shall accompany you and become your limbs and hands. This is something you will come to understand once you accept my strength.]

Just as the imugi said, it was hard to comprehend now.

That it would become her and wield power on her behalf?

How could that be?

There was one thing she did understand.

If she accepted the imugi’s fragment, it would remain with her at all times.

[When your Heavenly Gate opens, the day will come when you will be able to fully control this. Until then, if you {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} wish to use my power, the upper dantian is your only choice.]

It was inconvenient to have the imugi constantly with her, and being dependent on its help came with restrictions—but for the current Seolhwa, even that was something she desperately needed.

Unlike her past life where she had learned Blood Demon arts, she now walked the proper path, accumulating orthodox internal energy. And as expected, its growth was slow.

The imugi’s strength could supplement the weakness of her slow-growing Namgoong foundation.

“...Fine.”

[Take my essence.]

Seolhwa reached out and grasped the imugi’s fragment floating before her.

Crossing her legs, she sat down and swallowed it in one gulp.

The imugi’s fragment melted instantly in her mouth and vanished, as if it had never existed.

[From here on, leave it to me.]

In the next instant—tzing—a sharp pain pierced Seolhwa’s temple.

“!”

A pain like a blade stabbing through her brain.

Even Seolhwa, whose sensitivity to pain was dulled, found herself briefly losing consciousness.

[Do not lose your mind. You will fall into qi deviation.]

...Was that not something she should have been told first?

“...Ngh.”

Color drained from her clenched fists.

Seolhwa took slow breaths, struggling to hold on to her mind.

Kwaaaa—

Something massive surged in, centered on her Baekhwehyeol.

A dark, unfathomable force.

It was an entirely different sensation from when she circulated internal energy through her lower dantian.

It was so vast, so distant, she could hardly believe her body held space to receive it.

It was her dantian—yet it felt unreachable, not hers.

Kwaaaa...

Into that space, the imugi’s immense power slowly poured.

An endless, abyssal energy.

****

It took seven days to completely eradicate the planted agents and the hypnosis technique.

After the funerals of the dead were completed, Yu Gang, as promised, sealed his dantian.

Sect Leader No Un and several elders summoned him multiple times to dissuade him, but Yu Gang did not waver in his decision.

It would take several months for his body to recover after sealing his dantian, but Yu Gang left Mount Hua after only seven days.

“You could wait until your body recovers. I have informed your fellow disciples that you are under disciplinary reflection as you requested. If you wait until you are ready, you can depart more comfortably.”

“No. I have already been removed from the register. I am now an outsider. My body is well enough for travel. It is time for me to leave.”

“Have you decided where you will go?”

“I have no fixed destination. However, I will not wander aimlessly as I once did. There is something I must do.”

“...Are you going to pursue your master?”

“...”

No Un let out a quiet sigh.

He had already expected this the moment Yu Gang refused to change his mind about leaving the sect.

As Yu Gang had said, it was likely that remaining in Mount Hua would be painful for him—but that was not the only reason.

The look in his eyes was not that of someone who had given up.

No—it was closer to the gaze of someone driven by fury.

He had taught the boy, brought him in from the streets, raised him, even imparted martial arts to him. To Yu Gang, No Mun had been more than a master—perhaps even more than a father.

They had always shared a particularly close bond. For someone like Yu Gang, the betrayal would cut deeper than for anyone else.

“Your former master had another disciple before you.”

Yu Gang lifted his gaze to meet No Un’s eyes.

He had never heard of such a thing before.

“That child also had a talent for swordsmanship. Not as great as yours, but he was praised as an exceptional talent well-suited to succeed No Mun.”

“...”

“No Mun cherished that child. He taught him everything he had.”

“What happened to that disciple...? Where is he now?”

“He died.”

“!”

“He died during the first mission after descending the mountain. A battle broke out. He never heard the order to retreat and charged into the enemy camp alone. He never returned.”

No Mun had been the one leading that mission.

It had not been considered a dangerous task at the time, which was why he had brought his disciple along—but when things went awry and a skirmish broke out, he lost the disciple he had so dearly cherished.

“I believe that incident may be connected to all of this.”

“...”

“There is no excuse that could justify what he has done. But I thought this story might be of some use to you.”

A bitter smile spread across No Un’s lips.

He was someone’s master. He was also someone’s martial brother.

To everyone in Mount Hua, No Mun’s betrayal had been both a shock and a wound.

“Headmaster. I have a request.”

“Speak.”

“I was once a nameless child, wandering without identity. It was because I encountered Mount Hua that I was able to have a name at all.”

“I know.”

“The name has become precious to me.”

The name “Yu Gang” was formed by affixing the sect’s generational syllable ‘Yu (流)’ to a hastily chosen name, ‘Gang (康).’

To others, it may have seemed like a name acquired in passing—but for Yu Gang, it was his first name, the first by which anyone had called him.

“May I write the name with the character ‘由’ instead of ‘流’?”

That was why he wished to be called Yu Gang still.

Even after leaving Mount Hua—he wanted to remain Yu Gang.

No Un looked at him with an expression of quiet sorrow.

The child who had once wandered the streets had brightened so much after coming to Mount Hua, and yet now he was setting off to wander once again.

“Do you think this world would not call you by that name, just because our sect’s generational name is not attached to it?”

“...”

“If it becomes too difficult, return to us, Yu Gang. The Hall Master of the Protectorate may have said no, but is there truly anything that cannot be undone?”

“Thank you, Headmaster.”

Night had fallen deeply.

Yu Gang had not informed his fellow disciples of his departure, and so he left Mount Hua quietly, without anyone to see him off.

He stood for a long while under the bright moonlight, gazing up at the massive plaque above the mountain gate.

Then, he set down his modest bundle of belongings, bowed deeply toward the sect.

A bow of gratitude, of apology, of reverence.

Just as he was about to shoulder his small bundle and depart—

“You are leaving, then.”

Someone stood before him.

He had appeared without a trace of presence—unnoticed.

It was Namgoong Mucheon, head of the Namgoong Clan.