Flas took shape in Lee Jagyeom’s eyes, his killing intent manifesting visibly. Across from him, white smoke billowed from Seong Yangho’s body.
The contrast between the two n couldn’t have been more stark.
In the blink of an eye, they dashed toward each other and swung their swords.
Slice—!
Lee Jagyeom’s sword tore a long gash in Seong Yangho’s robes. Seong Yangho’s blade grazed the side of Lee Jagyeom’s neck.
Not deep.
Shallow.
But from that single exchange, Lee Jagyeom was sure of Seong Yangho’s strength.
“A re dog of the White Snow Spirit Guard, and yet... not bad.”
As he spoke, Lee Jagyeom ran his hand across his neck. Ice crystals clung to his fingers.
Cold. And stinging.
“...I should’ve killed you back in Yangryeong.”
Seong Yangho let out a quiet laugh.
“I gave you three seconds. Not just you—every one of the leaders of the Ilmun, Sam Clan, and Yi Clan who have already died or are about to—all of them were given three seconds. And what ca of it?”
“...”
“Even with multiple attackers, none of you managed to take my head. And now you stand there saying you should have killed ? You really do have a talent for talking bullshit.”
Lee Jagyeom’s face twisted with rage.
“You arrogant bastard... The only reason I didn’t kill you then was because of Jang Mujin. But he’s not here now. No one’s going to stop today. I’ll kill you, and then—Seol Unwi—!”
“Do you truly believe you can?”
“I will kill him.”
“So with just that level of skill, you actually think that’s possible?”
Fucking fool.
The air suddenly began to heat.
A crimson aura whirled around Lee Jagyeom, quickly enveloping his entire body—and his sword, too.
Yeolhwa Cheongyeol.
The heaven-grade martial technique that made Lee Jagyeom who he was today.
He surged forward with imnse force.
As he ca, Seong Yangho narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip on his sword.
People in the central plains often lumped the energies used by the warriors of the Everlasting Snow Palace under one term: bingsol jigi—Ice and Snow Qi.
But technically, that was a misnor.
“Bingsol jigi” is both a broad and specific term.
Just as countless styles of swordplay all fall under the single word “swordsmanship,” all the various cold-attribute internal energies trace back to it.
The warriors of the Snow Mountains do not use conventional internal energy.
Their energy types differ depending on cultivation level.
At the Translucent Mist Realm, they use Han-gi (Cold Qi).
At the Heaven and Earth Division, they use Hanwol jigi (Cold Moon Qi).
At the Five Divine Limits, they use Cheonbing jigi (Heaven Ice Qi).
And the direct bloodline of the Everlasting Snow Palace wields the purest form of them all—Bingsol jigi.
All others, whether Cheonbing jigi, Hanwol jigi, or Han-gi, are derivatives of bingsol jigi.
This is precisely why the Ice-Corrosion Poison made by Cheonsa-eum of Doksagok is so dangerous.
Because all the internal energy types used by Snow Mountain warriors stem from Bingsol jigi, any poison capable of corrupting it could massacre hundreds, thousands of them at once.
The energy Seong Yangho now drew forth was Hanwol jigi.
Instantly, a chilling cold surged from his body.
The surrounding temperature dropped rapidly.
Lee Jagyeom charged with fearso montum.
Wherever his feet touched the ground, the earth lted. Trees and bushes nearby turned to ash.
Yet Seong Yangho didn’t budge. He stood firm.
Lee Jagyeom, burning with flas, looked like a force of nature.
He was powerful. Overwhelming.
But that fire?
That pathetic fire wasn’t enough to reach Seol Unwi, let alone Seong Yangho.
He would cut it down completely.
Just before Lee Jagyeom could reach him, Seong Yangho’s form suddenly blurred.
Eunhyeong Bobeop – Hidden Form Step Technique.
His body dispersed like mist—then instantly reappeared beside Lee Jagyeom.
He moved so fast, the naked eye couldn’t keep up.
Seong Yangho’s sword flashed. It was like a falling teor in the winter night sky.
Baeksul Seomgwang – Flash of White Snow.
Slice—!
The sword scraped Lee Jagyeom’s side.
He twisted just enough to avoid a fatal wound—but his robes were torn, flesh gashed. Frozen blood sprayed as he stumbled back.
“...”
Lee Jagyeom, his expression full of unspoken rage, glared at Seong Yangho and raised his sword again. Seong Yangho followed suit.
“Co.”
At Lee Jagyeom’s command, Seong Yangho charged.
His steps shook the ground. Hanwol jigi surged.
Baeksul Muheunbo – Snow Without Footprints Step.
Baeksul Bigeomjin – Flying Snow Sword Formation.
Suddenly, Seong Yangho’s figure split into three. No—seven. Then twelve.
His afterimages spread in every direction. They weren’t illusions—the sheer speed of his movents caused them.
Blades rained on Lee Jagyeom like a storm.
He desperately summoned flas to defend himself, but they froze midair or shattered apart.
Slash! Slash!
Lee Jagyeom’s shoulder and leg were ripped open.
“Guhk... you bastard...!”
Madness glead in Lee Jagyeom’s eyes. He suddenly slamd a hand into his own chest, groaning in pain. A surge of crimson erupted from his body.
Yeolhwa Cheongyeol’s ultimate secret technique—
Yeonhwa Simjungcheon – Lotus in the Heart of Heaven.
The strongest martial art he could unleash now.
His entire body began to glow red. It wasn’t just internal energy anymore. He was tapping into his innate qi—his very life force.
His black hair bleached pale in seconds. Wrinkles ford on his skin.
“For your sake, I’ll burn decades of my lifespan. Consider it an honor!”
From Lee Jagyeom’s body, a massive lotus-shaped fla erupted. It shot high into the sky, burning everything in its path. The ground lted beneath it. The air itself scread as it ignited.
Hanwol jigi, which Seong Yangho had drawn up, began to lt and scatter.
Seong Yangho’s eyes deepened.
From his ti in the White Snow Spirit Guard, he had learned one unshakable lesson: never lose composure.
Once you allow emotion to rule you—like Lee Jagyeom had—emotion begins to move your body.
When clarity is lost and action becos instinctual, driven by rage... you are no longer a martial artist.
Seong Yangho raised his sword toward Lee Jagyeom.
No Hanwol jigi. No internal energy. That was fine.
Just a single blade.
He poured everything into that one strike.
Lee Jagyeom charged through the fire. He no longer held a sword. His body itself had beco the weapon.
Seong Yangho’s eyes widened montarily. He realized—this wasn’t re martial technique.
It was a man’s final, suicidal frenzy.
White light flashed in Seong Yangho’s eyes.
Fire lting ice may be the law of nature—
—but true masters overturn nature itself.
He stepped forward.
The sword in his hand froze solid—handle and all.
A single block of ice.
Like a cliff carved and honed by ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) winter itself.
Cheongi Baeksul Ilgeom – Heaven’s Foundation, One Snowblade.
It was a single strike.
But within it, Seong Yangho poured everything—his past, present, and future.
His desire to beco a true warrior.
His loyalty to Unwi.
His will to be reborn as a martial artist.
Lee Jagyeom could not dodge the blade.
CRACK—!!
The towering fire lotus Lee Jagyeom had summoned split clean in half.
And sothing flew high into the air.
His right arm.
“H-How...”
Lee Jagyeom turned, confused.
Another flash.
Slice—!
This ti, the blade severed his left arm.
Even as he tried to kick, Seong Yangho was no longer in front of him.
Then—
Thud!
A blade pierced his rear thigh.
“Guh...”
From behind.
Seong Yangho was behind him.
His ghostly, unpredictable movent ca from Baeksul Muheunbo, created by Han Am, the first leader of the White Snow Spirit Guard.
Lee Jagyeom hadn’t even recognized it when it was first used—he certainly wouldn’t recognize it now.
Monts later, his other thigh was smashed.
He collapsed forward.
Behind him stood Seong Yangho, not a single drop of blood on him.
“Y-You... fucking... bastards... I’ll kill you... all of you...”
Lee Jagyeom muttered incoherently.
Seong Yangho stared at him in silence. Lee Jagyeom no longer resembled a middle-aged man—he looked like soone who had aged decades in an instant. Wrinkled. Hollowed out.
Quietly, Seong Yangho grabbed Lee Jagyeom by the hair and dragged him away.
No one spoke.
So this... was the end of the man who once ruled Jeokan.
Before Unwi, seated in his chair, Seong Yangho threw Lee Jagyeom down and knelt on one knee.
“Young master, I have brought him.”
Unwi replied with a short sentence.
“Well done.”
It was brief—but Seong Yangho was deeply satisfied.
***
He looked down at Lee Jagyeom.
Both arms lost, one thigh shattered, the other pierced—he couldn’t even rise. All he could do was squirm on the ground.
He muttered sothing.
“Can’t do anything... on your own... not even worthy to be called a warrior... you worthless worm...”
Unwi didn’t laugh.
If one failed to grasp the situation this badly, it wasn’t even worth mocking anymore. It just evoked pity.
He spoke quietly.
“You should think of it the other way.”
“...What?”
“Just as you said, I brought down Jeokan without doing anything myself. That, in and of itself, will shock people.”
“...”
“Everyone knows the Everlasting Snow Palace played no direct role. And yet, so will doubt. They’ll investigate. Inquire. The more information they gather, the more their thoughts will converge into a single conclusion.”
Unwi set down his teacup.
“Seol Unwi took Jeokan with nothing but his own strength. Ah... judging by your face, I see you finally understand.”
“...You... don’t tell ...”
“Compared to Jeokan, Yangryeong is very weak. Yes, it has potential, and many promising martial artists. But to be blunt, for now—it’s insufficient. And yet I took those people and destroyed the Ilmun, Sam Clan, and Yi Clan.”
“What do you think the others will conclude when they see that?”
“...”
“They’ll say: if he could swallow an entire city like Jeokan without the palace’s help... what would happen if he did use the palace’s power?”
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