Chapter 103

Chapter 103
Five days afterward, upon the vast, sweeping wilderness near Wuhwan, Baek So-cheon lingered alone beneath an uninterrupted horizon. A steady breeze stirred around him, though it carried none of the bitter chill of the fading winter; the harsh cold was finally retreating before the arrival of spring.

Lifting his eyes toward the open sky, Baek So-cheon pondered what the coming year would bring. Would he find himself clashing directly against Yeom Hwa-sin? Or would his efforts to avert disaster collapse, letting the flames of war consume everything regardless? Would his breath still remain in his body by then? And if he did manage to endure, under what season’s skies would he finally be free to depart the Alliance?

As those drifting thoughts occupied his mind, a solitary silhouette materialized against the remote skyline.

It was Jeok Pa-rap. Even though he was venturing into rival territory with zero certainty of what lay ahead, he traveled entirely unaccompanied. Such a bold move could stem only from complete, unshakable faith in his own martial might.

He came to a halt roughly a dozen paces away from Baek So-cheon—a span narrow enough that either man could strike the other down in the span of a single breath.

This marked their very first direct encounter.

The Blood Cult had abstained from the previous conflict, though near its conclusion they had plotted behind the scenes to unleash the Cheonoe Won-go upon both the Murim Alliance and the Black Heaven Alliance.

Baek So-cheon was quietly startled by how youthful Jeok Pa-rap appeared.

“People frequently comment on my youthful appearance, but standing before you makes me feel as though I cannot claim it at all.”

“Are you interested in learning the method to retain such youth?”

The sound of his speech instantly betrayed his true years—a scratchy, coarse rattle laden with phlegm.

“I will decline.”

“For what reason?”

“Do you truly believe defying the natural order comes without a heavy cost?”

Jeok Pa-rap’s gaze narrowed into sharp points, yet Baek So-cheon cut in with a preemptive warning before he could act.

“While we are discussing the matter, let me be clear from the start: do not even consider employing Soul Subjugation Art against me. I have taken precautions, so it will prove entirely futile. Disregard this counsel, and your daughter will never stand before you again.”

A bitter, chilling chuckle escaped Jeok Pa-rap.

“It seems you have arrived thoroughly prepared.”

From the very instant his gaze fell upon Baek So-cheon, Jeok Pa-rap had recognized the protective measures shielding the young man. It was an ability Baek So-cheon had acquired from Na-sa-rin during their previous encounter—a perception capable of discerning whether someone was ensnared by Soul Subjugation Art or possessed the capacity to cast it. Naturally, a master like Jeok Pa-rap could perceive that awareness just as easily.

“A great deal has reached my ears concerning you.”

“Of what nature?”

“The favorable accounts describe you as far more principled than any typical righteous sect warrior, yet endowed with a temperament that completely breaks the standard mold.”

“And the unfavorable ones?”

“They suggest you have a fiery temper, do they not? Pay it no mind. I harbor little patience for those who posture as pure saints.”

A suffocating demonic aura began to roll off Jeok Pa-rap, easily dwarfing that of Pa-jeong with its sheer immensity. Were that power to erupt through his pinnacle poison sect skills, it would manifest as an absolute living nightmare.

“How is Ji-ryun faring?”

“She is well. Considerably more resilient than I anticipated.”

Baek So-cheon had made it a point to visit her cell each day, personally evaluating her condition. She remained their most critical captive. Fortunately, she was maintaining her resolve—displaying far more grit than expected and clinging to an unyielding drive to survive. She possessed a sharp grasp of her predicament, fully aware that her captors gained nothing by taking her life.

“Release Ji-ryun. She is the treasured daughter of the Blood Cult.”

“I will not.”

A dark shadow fell across Jeok Pa-rap’s features.

“Do you seek an early grave?”

The outright intimidation was mere formality; Jeok Pa-rap was well aware that Baek So-cheon would never yield to such a basic display of force. It was simply an initial probe. True to form, Baek So-cheon did not waver in the slightest.

“The second you take my life, your daughter will perish alongside me. Meaningless intimidation achieves nothing here, so do not waste your breath.”

“If you refuse to set her free, then take her as your wife and keep her.”

“I have no desire for that.”

“What is it you truly desire, then?”

This time, Baek So-cheon turned the pressure back onto him with an ultimatum of his own.

“Directing wicked sorcery toward the Murim Alliance Lord constitutes a crime punishable by death.”

A sneer curved Jeok Pa-rap’s lips in naked disdain. Baek So-cheon pressed further without hesitation.

“What? Do you assume I lack the nerve?”

“Do you truly imagine you can execute a blameless girl?”

“You are mistaken on both counts. She bears guilt, and she is hardly a mere girl.”

“Ji-ryun had no knowledge of the scheme.”

“Are you admitting you simply manipulated your ignorant child?”

“Hold your tongue!”

“Very well, suppose things happened precisely as you claim. Even so, she has carried out an offense grave enough to warrant years of confinement within the prison tower. She guided an assassin whose goal was the life of the Alliance Lord.”

“So you intend to process this through the unbending statutes of your Murim Alliance?”

“Precisely.”

“Should you pursue that course, we will have no alternative but to assist the Black Heaven Alliance in wiping you out.”

“Are you not already joined in an alliance with them?”

“A misconception. Circumstances coerced us into that pact. It was an act of pure preservation, never meant to bring harm to you.”

Jeok Pa-rap kept the Blood Cult’s genuine motives entirely concealed.

“Fine. I will accept your explanation. Even so, releasing her without conditions is out of the question.”

“State what you demand.”

“Yeom Hwa-sin pledged that no war would occur for the span of one year. You are aware of this, yes?”

“I know of it.”

“Should open conflict ignite during that period, your daughter will be the very first to die.”

“What did you say?”

“Heed my words carefully, for I am entirely serious. If your sect or Black Heaven initiates hostilities within this year, she will perish by my own hands.”

“Even assuming we honor our side of the arrangement, how can we restrain Black Heaven? You understand Yeom Hwa-sin better than anyone.”

“The answer is straightforward: proclaim publicly that you will stand with us if he initiates a campaign. Even a martial artist of his caliber cannot simultaneously battle both factions. He will recognize that your daughter remains our prisoner and will understand your stance. Once the full year concludes, she will be released.”

“On what basis should we place faith in your word?”

“You possess no alternative.”

Yet Jeok Pa-rap did possess an alternative.

In that very fraction of a second, he drove his Soul Subjugation Art straight into Baek So-cheon—unleashing a force vastly superior to the technique Pa-jeong had previously attempted.

“Do you intend to uphold your pledge?”

“I do.”

“Who informed you of our intention to deploy the Eight Directions Ghost Blood Array?”

“The Black Heaven Lord.”

Having extracted the two crucial truths he sought, Jeok Pa-rap retracted his occult energy. The entire intrusion transpired in the mere flicker of an eyelid, leaving Baek So-cheon appearing completely unaware that the technique had even taken place.

Cold perspiration, however, drenched Jeok Pa-rap’s back. Forcing his way through Baek So-cheon’s mental defenses had exacted a tremendous toll on his internal reserves.

Even so, he had secured a vital revelation.

‘Yeom Hwa-sin truly did betray us to him! That treacherous dog!’

Suppressing the fierce fury churning within his chest, Jeok Pa-rap spoke in an even tone.

“Will you ensure Ji-ryun is treated properly?”

“Rest assured. She will receive better care than she ever had within your cult.”

“Very well. The pact is forged: our side will initiate no conflicts for one year, and should Black Heaven launch an assault, we will openly declare our allegiance to your cause.”

“We are in agreement.”

“In that case, I shall take your word and depart.”

Watching Jeok Pa-rap turn and pace away across the plain, a faint smirk surfaced on Baek So-cheon’s face.

He had indeed approached Na-sa-rin beforehand to secure protection against the Soul Subjugation Art. Yet he had avoided the straightforward warding technique she originally proposed, suspecting it might shatter before Jeok Pa-rap’s overwhelming inner power. Instead, he had asked for an entirely different preparation: a deceptively layered enchantment. The moment Jeok Pa-rap attempted to seize his mind, the technique would compel Baek So-cheon to declare that the Black Heaven Lord was the informant.

Given Jeok Pa-rap’s boundless arrogance regarding his own mystic craft, he would never dream that his technique had been turned against him.

Returning blow for blow; an eye for an eye, matching the Soul Subjugation Art with a trap built on the very same foundation. That was the precise countermeasure Baek So-cheon had designed for this confrontation.

Convinced that Black Heaven had secretly sabotaged their efforts, Jeok Pa-rap would now sow deep discord between the two allied powers. Furthermore, Baek So-cheon had secured the exact prize he required above all else: a full year of peace.

—

Inside the inner quarters of the Alliance Lord, Baek So-cheon concluded his comprehensive briefing.

Both Ak So-gun and Je-gal Hyeon expressed deep relief and satisfaction over the favorable resolution.

“Do not feel troubled over retaining her as a captive. Simply regard her detention as just retribution for her misdeeds.”

“Understood.”

In truth, her insistence that she had acted in total ignorance was far too flimsy an excuse to hold weight.

With the imminent dangers posed by both the Black Heaven Alliance and the Blood Cult temporarily held at bay, Ak So-gun shifted his focus toward an issue that had been kept waiting.

“The hour has arrived for you to assume leadership over Bi-gak.”

The timing could not have been more ideal. Baek So-cheon had recently overcome the chosen successor of Black Heaven in plain sight of everyone. His worthiness went far beyond empty titles; the raw martial supremacy he had displayed was more than sufficient to command the seat of leadership.

“On Byeok-hwa shares this desire as well.”

Given her personal ties with Ak So-gun, she had long been seeking an appropriate moment to step aside from the position.

“It pains me to place such a heavy duty upon your shoulders, yet no one else is equal to the task.”

Following a brief pause of contemplation, Baek So-cheon gave a firm nod of agreement.

“I will undertake it.”

Directing Bi-gak, the foremost elite combat division of the Murim Alliance, was simply too critical a responsibility to decline any further. He chose to look at the endeavor through an optimistic lens; true progress in the martial path did not solely depend on solitary meditation within secluded chambers. It was entirely possible that overseeing Bi-gak would ignite fresh momentum in his personal cultivation.

“Hahaha, a commendable choice. And what of Hyun-cheon-dae?”

“They should be integrated beneath Bi-gak’s authority, yet continue to function as a self-governing tactical squad.”

“It is granted.”

The prowess demonstrated by Hyun-cheon-dae stood equal to, if not higher than, the elite combatants of Bi-gak, ensuring that nobody would dispute their distinct standing.

“I shall oversee Bi-gak while maintaining steady dedication to my training.”

“Proceed as you see fit, Lord Baek.”

How many seasons had drifted past since he had last been addressed by that formal title?

“I regret placing such an immense weight upon you.”

“Please, it is an absolute privilege.”

Ak So-gun shifted his gaze toward Je-gal Hyeon.

“Could you grant us privacy for a moment?”

“At once, my Lord.”

Following Je-gal Hyeon’s departure, the two figures sat together in solitary stillness.

At long last, Ak So-gun allowed the deep-seated burdens he had kept hidden to emerge into words.

“I have presented you with nothing but my own inadequacy. Pray forgive me.”

“You must not speak of yourself in that manner.”

“If I am to be honest… ever since the Cheonoe Won-go was unraveled, a profound sense of helplessness has continually washed over me. When it held sway over my senses, a fierce hatred toward you ruled my thoughts. Yet the moment it was cast out, it felt as though an expanse had been brutally scooped away—leaving a barren, hollow pit inside my chest.”

“Ah…”

“It exists entirely apart from the profound relief of having you by my side once more.”

Baek So-cheon understood that hollow desolation intimately. It was not a natural emotional reaction, but rather the lingering fallout left behind by unnatural manipulation—a spiritual aftershock resulting from the destruction of the Cheonoe Won-go.

One might imagine that an apex warrior of Ak So-gun’s stature could brush aside such trauma without difficulty. Yet Baek So-cheon recognized the truth of the matter.

He too had once stood upon the very zenith of the martial realm, yet he had endured bitter anguish questioning whether Ak So-gun had genuinely discarded him.

The greater a warrior’s heights, the more bottomless, shadowy, and desolate the inner void could become. It accounted for Yeom Hwa-sin’s erratic behavior, just as it mirrored his own persistent yearning to abandon everything and walk away.

Because of that, Baek So-cheon held a clear conviction: an ordinary merchant peddling goods outside the gates of the Murim Alliance might well harbor an inner fortitude far firmer than an unrivaled grandmaster. The instinct to shield one’s own kin could easily carry greater moral weight than the grand obligation of defending an entire martial coalition. Reaching the peak of martial power did not inherently elevate the nature of the human spirit.

Reaching forward, Baek So-cheon gently grasped Ak So-gun’s hand.

“Alliance Lord, you are conducting yourself with greater grace than anyone could muster. You have guided us through grueling conflicts, shattered the grip of the Cheonoe Won-go, and held firm against both Black Heaven and the Blood Cult. Not a single person could have achieved more than you have. Never speak of yourself as inadequate again.”

These words were born of absolute sincerity, entirely free of shallow flattery. He held no illusions; he knew with certainty that he could never shoulder such a role with even half the endurance Ak So-gun possessed.

To ponder carrying the mantle of the Alliance Lord or the Grand Strategist across endless decades was staggering: rendering countless critical judgments day after day, unraveling convoluted alliances, and enduring the slow wear of endless duties while watching vibrant youths step into the limelight amid thunderous acclaim. Yet rather than harboring bitterness, Ak So-gun extended unreserved kindness—a virtue that grew exceedingly rare with the passage of years.

At last, Baek So-cheon gave voice to a sentiment he had quietly harbored for a very long time.

“When my own years advance, it is my wish to walk that path just as you have.”

Beneath his palm, he could feel Ak So-gun’s fingers tighten with deep, quiet emotion.