Chapter 80

Chapter 80
A heavy gloom had weighed on Cheon-geuk for the past several days.

Hearing of her distress, Na-sa-rin came by to sit with her, attempting to lift her spirits with ancient tales of shadowy operatives that unfailingly began with reminiscing about the old era.

“…I tell you, that was the reality back then. We would stay hidden inside foul latrines for days at a time without moving. We would steady ourselves on nothing more than a single hollow bamboo shoot, remaining concealed until our mark finally appeared. We wore that obstinacy like a badge of honor. Try asking modern fledglings to hide inside a privy, and they would scatter instantly. Ah, you remember Gwang-sal, don’t you? There was this one time that fellow…”

As she listened, Cheon-geuk suddenly interrupted,

“Grandmother!”

Na-sa-rin halted at the word, her voice faltering mid-sentence.

“Alliance Lord? Whatever do you mean by that?”

Cheon-geuk’s spirits had remained low ever since news broke that the Blood Cult Lord had dispatched an emissary with a marriage proposal.

Baek So-cheon had remarked to her that people frequently squandered vitality fretting over hollow trivialities while ignoring pressing realities—a fault she was currently demonstrating.

Foolish man. He only acted that way because she was a woman!

The truly vital concern on her mind right now was Na-sa-rin’s physical condition and the distance between them.

“Starting today, I shall address you as Grandmother. In return, speak to me without formal pretense.”

“That is impossible, Alliance Lord.”

“We ought to have established this long ago. Even if time has already slipped by, from this moment on, I will cherish you as my true flesh-and-blood elder.”

“Alliance Lord!”

“You are well aware of my persistence. People say even parents cannot bend their headstrong offspring. Concede the matter, Grandmother.”

Na-sa-rin released a long breath.

Deep in her heart, how could she not wish to cherish Cheon-geuk as her very own kin?

Yet Na-sa-rin, having spent a lifetime governed by absolute fidelity, placed the welfare and dignity of the alliance above any personal affection.

“This is not solely for your sake—it weighs upon my conscience as well.”

“I must still refuse!”

Cheon-geuk deployed every point she could summon, yet she failed to sway Na-sa-rin’s steadfast devotion.

Formal titles meant far less than the warmth that underscored them, yet she still yearned to revere the elder as her true maternal guide. It was the least she could offer to honor Na-sa-rin’s endless care.

“Alliance Lord, our current standing satisfies me completely.”

Na-sa-rin gently enveloped Cheon-geuk’s fingers in her own. Within her spirit, she had already embraced the young woman as a granddaughter. So long as the sanctity of the alliance and her reverence for its supreme leader remained intact, this balance protected everyone best.

At that precise moment, Baek So-cheon stepped into the room.

“Have you been keeping well, Elder?”

“Please, enter.”

“I came seeking your insight regarding a particular matter.”

“Take a seat over here.”

Knowing her extensive mastery of Blood Cult sorcery, he wondered if she might possess knowledge concerning Myeol Ji-ryun.

“Should I give you two privacy?”

“No need, remain where you are. There is no harm.”

Cheon-geuk, having started to rise from her seat, settled back down. Baek So-cheon took a position next to her and turned his gaze toward Na-sa-rin.

“Do you know of Myeol Ji-ryun, the daughter born to Blood Cult Lord Myeol Saeng?”

“A lifetime has passed since I last heard that name spoken aloud.”

“What manner of person is she?”

“The Blood Cult Lord spent his entire existence without any offspring, only to abruptly present a fully grown maiden to the world. That maiden was Myeol Ji-ryun.”

“Did you ever set eyes upon her?”

“Merely once, many seasons past, while she was still an adolescent. I recall her demeanor being remarkably quiet. Why do you suddenly inquire about her?”

Cheon-geuk had not yet divulged the arrival of the matchmaker to her.

Regardless of her profound affection for Na-sa-rin, duty was duty. It fell to Baek So-cheon to decide what information was appropriate to reveal.

Only then did the full truth dawn upon Na-sa-rin, illuminating the reason for Cheon-geuk’s subdued behavior over the past few days.

“It seems destiny will entangle us with the Blood Cult whether we desire it or not.”

“It appears inevitable. Do you have any theory as to why they would put forth such an offer?”

Na-sa-rin shook her head slowly. Cheon-geuk offered her own thought,

“The genuine daughter will not show herself.”

Baek So-cheon inclined his head. His suspicions aligned with hers, though he could not dismiss the proposal as an outright deception either. Until the underlying motives were laid bare, nothing could be determined with certainty.

A memory suddenly stirred within Na-sa-rin.

“My former teacher once mentioned that the lineage of Myeol Saeng bears ash-colored pupils, resembling the glazed eyes of a corpse. When fury overtakes them, those pupils shift to a vivid crimson. Could such an omen aid your discernment?”

“Immensely. That knowledge is invaluable.”

At the very least, it provided a distinct sign to confirm whether the arriving Myeol Ji-ryun was authentic.

“I appreciate your guidance. I shall take my leave now.”

Na-sa-rin called after Baek So-cheon,

“Can you spare a brief moment?”

“Certainly.”

“I have a discipline to bestow upon you.”

“I am listening.”

“I intend to pass on an esoteric technique that repels Seop-hon-sul, alongside an art to cleanse foreign hexes.”

“Elder!”

She had previously instructed him on how to perceive victims trapped under Seop-hon-sul. Yet this instruction held far greater significance.

“Your martial realm is exceptionally advanced, meaning base applications of Seop-hon-sul cannot influence you. However, Myeol Saeng himself or his venerable teacher Jeok Pa-rap wield arts capable of piercing your natural guard. Myeol Ji-ryun inherited their sinister crafts as well, so one must anticipate formidable witchcraft. Commit my personal art to memory, and you will neutralize their sorcery before it ever takes root.”

Cheon-geuk sat entirely bewildered. This was Na-sa-rin’s crowning esoteric inheritance, a closely guarded secret she had withheld even from her.

“I shall step outside.”

She recognized the sacred nature of such an inheritance. The reason Na-sa-rin had guarded it even from Cheon-geuk was simple: even without a formal master-disciple pact, accepting the lineage of this art would establish a master’s bond.

Cheon-geuk’s absolute conviction—and her singular destiny—was to govern as the Alliance Lord until her final breath. It was an unbending stance, but one she held with unwavering resolve.

With only the two of them remaining, Baek So-cheon murmured with a hint of hesitation,

“Is it truly acceptable to entrust me with such an invaluable lineage?”

“To anyone else? Absolutely never. Yet between you and me, does a profound connection not exist?”

He grasped her intent immediately. Her generosity sprang entirely from her devotion to the Assassin Alliance and her protectiveness over Cheon-geuk. He now realized beyond doubt that her affection for Cheon-geuk mirrored the boundless love of a guardian.

“You have my deepest gratitude, Elder.”

“There is no leisure to dally with a man of many burdens. Fix your focus on every word I deliver.”

“Understood.”

She carefully detailed the medicinal concoction required to dissolve hexes, precisely which vital pressure points required needles, and the exact measure of force necessary to stimulate each locus.

“Fortunately for your circumstances, this cleansing rite can be carried out entirely by your own hands.”

The concoction possessed a powerful sedative effect, but a supreme martial practitioner of Baek So-cheon’s caliber was capable of enduring the stupor—precisely as Yeom Hwa-sin had once managed.

In addition to the methods for purifying hexes, Baek So-cheon absorbed the foundational incantation to dispel Seop-hon-sul.

Transmitting the full operational art would have consumed months, but mastering the defensive counter-mantra took far less time.

With his internal reserves fully replenished, Baek So-cheon integrated the secret with effortless speed. Having already possessed a sturdy resilience against foreign manipulation, Seop-hon-sul ceased to pose any threat to his spirit. Since the technique originated from mystic roots, it granted him wide-ranging protection against diverse sorceries as well.

Once the transmission concluded, Na-sa-rin moved to evaluate his progress.

“Repel my Seop-hon-sul.”

She merely fixed her gaze upon him. Her eyes showed no red gleam, nor did her aura fluctuate—her supreme mastery manifested invisibly without outward warning.

Yet Baek So-cheon remained utterly steady. He thoroughly repulsed the elder’s pinnacle craft.

A radiant smile broke across Na-sa-rin’s visage.

“Splendid. Within this generation, not a single soul possesses the power to beguile your mind.”

Baek So-cheon chose not to burden the moment with empty words of gratitude.

“I shall keep your teachings close to heart.”

“You comprehend the deeper meaning?”

“I do.”

Nothing further required explanation between them.

The individual who commanded Na-sa-rin’s truest hopes was waiting just beyond the threshold.

“Has it concluded?”

—

Yeom Sa-won made his way inside the grand audience chamber of the Black Heaven Alliance Lord.

Lines of fully armed martial experts flanked the pathway on both sides, their naked blades held outward to form a corridor of cold steel. Though the effigies carved along these inner halls did not match the sheer scale of the stone titans guarding the outer gates, their imposing forms still loomed several times larger than any ordinary man.

At the chamber’s terminus rose an expanse of stone stairs, culminating in a monstrous throne nearly three times the proportions of a typical seat of power. Resting atop it was Yeom Hwa-sin.

Yeom Sa-won halted at the base of the staircase and bowed with deep deference toward his father seated on high.

“You summoned me, Father?”

Unease gripped his chest.

He will almost certainly vent his fury over that wench.

He knew all too well that the Assassin Alliance’s public snub had made him a figure of ridicule across the entire syndicate.

“I offer my humblest apologies for that past debacle.”

“Which debacle do you speak of?”

Yeom Hwa-sin’s voice echoed like thunderous rumblings rolling out from a deep forest lair.

“The matter regarding the Assassin Alliance.”

“What of it?”

Yeom Hwa-sin pressed relentlessly, his piercing glare demanding an explicit answer.

“The one-nyang contract they so boldly refused.”

“Why offer an apology over such a thing?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“On what grounds does that warrant an apology?”

Yeom Sa-won’s thoughts scrambled in terror.

Curse it all!

His father perpetually toyed with him in this manner—granting the illusion of complete autonomy, only to box him into an inescapable trap. Why could he not simply reprimand him plainly with stern guidance?

“It compromised the prestige of our great alliance through a single-coin bounty.”

At that, Yeom Hwa-sin offered a wholly unexpected declaration.

“Your commission was not without purpose.”

“Pardon?”

“There are occasions when a man must issue a one-nyang contract. It is fitting that my blood heir knows how to wield such measures.”

Yeom Sa-won’s features brightened with sudden hope.

Finally! Father truly acknowledges my judgment!

Yet Yeom Hwa-sin crushed that fleeting joy with a freezing remark,

“Your selection of target, however, was fundamentally flawed.”

“Are you speaking of Baek So-cheon?”

“Indeed. He stands entirely outside your realm.”

Yeom Sa-won’s expression twisted into an ugly grimace. He could have swallowed a harsh rebuke targeting his competence—yet being declared inferior to Baek So-cheon stung worse than venom.

“You speak of a wretch possessing virtually no internal energy?”

Reading the bitter indignity rolling off his son, Yeom Hwa-sin offered an icy confirmation,

“Precisely. Even bereft of internal cultivation, he remains beyond your capacity to overcome.”

Yeom Sa-won clenched his jaw until his teeth grated.

Yeom Hwa-sin openly fed upon his son’s boiling indignation. For what other purpose would he reveal the matter at this very instant?

“I have fresh intelligence to share with you.”

“Regarding what?”

“Concerning Myeol Ji-ryun.”

“I refuse to take that woman as my bride!”

The Black Heaven Alliance had previously dispatched a formal matchmaker toward the Blood Cult.

The union between Yeom Sa-won and Myeol Ji-ryun was meant to bind the two titanic factions into an unbreakable pact. Yeom Hwa-sin had arranged the overture entirely without his son’s consent, prompting Yeom Sa-won to erupt in vehement opposition.

“You may not need to trouble yourself. They cast our proposal aside and instead sent a matchmaker straight to Baek So-cheon.”

Yeom Sa-won stumbled back as if struck physically.

“What did you say?”

It was impossible.

Baek So-cheon once again. Always him, blocking his path at every turn!

Vicious bloodlust flared within Yeom Sa-won’s vision. Forgetting the towering presence of his own father, he allowed his murderous instinct to erupt without restraint.

“Raaagh!”

His ferocious roar tore through the hall, rattling the foundations of the vast chamber.

Yeom Hwa-sin observed the display with quiet amusement, wearing the look of a casual patron watching an energetic street spectacle.

“Restrain your noise and remove yourself from my sight.”

Confronted with that chilling dismissal, Yeom Sa-won glared upward and shouted furiously,

“Father! I cannot allow this to come to pass!”

“What is that you say?”

“I will never permit Baek So-cheon to claim Myeol Ji-ryun for himself!”

“Did you not just proclaim that you refused to wed her?”

“My resolve has shifted! I shall marry her. I will take her, no matter what!”

Yeom Sa-won shed every ounce of his customary timidity before the tyrant.

“I will seize the woman who belongs to me!”

“And by what means?”

“I have no plan. Tell me the path, Father!”

Yeom Hwa-sin raised a clenched fist high above his seat.

“Yes! Grant me permission to cut him down!”

“You lack the strength to conquer Baek So-cheon.”

“I possess the strength!”

Thick veins throbbed against Yeom Sa-won’s straining neck.

“He once ran a blade through my torso. Whether he held internal power or not, that humiliation cannot be excused!”

“That is a finished past. My present might is vastly different!”

Yeom Sa-won brought his foot crashing down upon the hall’s flagstones with terrifying violence.

Boom!

Crack-crack-crack!

The Quake Step, completely saturated with his potent internal qi, shattered the stonework instantly. A web of violent fractures ripped outward from the sunken imprint of his sole—a striking display befitting the successor of an empire.

“I possess the power required to reclaim what is mine!”

An unreadable smirk surfaced on Yeom Hwa-sin’s face. His deeper calculations remained entirely hidden from view.

“Very well. I shall construct a magnificent battlefield just for you.”