Chapter 163: Chapter 163

Even at the Three Flowers Gathering Purity stage, one can accomplish much.

“Your goal is revenge. Am I right?”

“Then what you must do for that revenge is cultivate.”

“...When you say cultivate...”

“Not to set aside your hatred, but to place it foremost—to use it as your driving force, to temper yourself with it. That’s what you must do.”

“Turning the world upside down or resolving the root of this—all of that will be my task. You, by my side, must receive my guidance and evolve your hatred one step further. If you continue without faltering, then before long, Namgung Ho’s head will be laid before you.”

Wonyang nodded firmly. Then, hesitantly, she asked,

“I’d like nothing more than to tell you to sit down across from me. But it seems... another guest has arrived ahead of you.”

At that, Wonyang tilted her head, not understanding.

Then suddenly, a flash passed through her eyes.

She sprang to her feet and reached for her sword—but couldn’t draw it.

A white-haired, white-robed old man now stood right before her, gently pressing down on her hand.

I had expected one of the two would come today.

I thought it would be my father.

“...Y-yes... my lord...”

“Step back. He is our guest.”

Still glaring at the Celestial Daoist, Wonyang eventually stepped aside. The Celestial Daoist, too, said nothing.

He merely stood there, smiling, as if pleased.

That distinctive chuckle of his rang in my ears.

“You said ‘soon,’ so I was prepared. But I didn’t expect you to arrive this quickly.”

“Hrrhrr... I couldn’t stop thinking about our last meeting. It got to the point where staying away was unbearable. Ah—by the way, would it be alright if I speak more casually?”

“I don’t mind. Please, speak freely.”

The Celestial Daoist sat across from me.

Looking at him, I quietly said,

“Do not let anyone in.”

With that, Wonyang left, and the Celestial Daoist and I were left alone.

“Hrrhrr... It’s an important occasion. One ought to come alone.”

There’s no one in this world stronger than the Celestial Daoist.

Of course he would come alone.

“You’ve brought a gift.”

“To resolve things peacefully, it’s only right to bring one.”

As he spoke, he placed two severed heads beside the Go board.

Seon Yangbaek, Lord of Viper Valley.

Cheonsa-eum, the Venom Demon.

“You needed justification, did you?”

“Not quite... Rather than justification, it was simply the posture I had to show as both martial artist and sect master.”

I had imagined that someone of his stature would bring heads.

He resembled Kang Cheonwoo, the Lord of the Sichuan Alliance, in some ways—but there was a key difference:

He had no fear of shedding blood.

“What happened to Viper Valley?”

“A great number of poisoners must have died.”

“Of course not. I only feel relieved that I didn’t have to dirty my own hands.”

“Not dirtying your hands... and feeling relieved, you say? Hah... Every time you speak, you manage to surprise this old man.”

The Celestial Daoist’s eyes traced an arc. Thıs content belongs to NoveIꜰire.net

“You must mean that you have no hesitation in turning the Original Blood Sect into your enemy. Isn’t that right?”

“It is. I have no hesitation.”

“But everyone says it’s suicidal.”

“There is a time for everything. If I must bow, I can bow. If I must kneel, I can kneel. But the moment that time comes, I will not miss my chance.”

The Celestial Daoist is no fool. He’s a genius beyond the bounds of genius.

He understood my intent clearly.

“There is one who must be killed. And if that one is not handed over, you’ll kill everyone?”

“That girl who just left—she bears the Namgung name, doesn’t she?”

“The Lord of the Blood-Spirit Guard also bears the Namgung name. I haven’t heard the full story, but I can guess.”

Quietly fingering a black stone, the Celestial Daoist gave a small nod, as ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ though he had come to a conclusion.

“Personal grudges are just that—personal. They have nothing to do with sect grudges. But... do you truly believe that the girl who just left can settle her score with the Blood-Spirit Guard’s Lord?”

I answered without a moment’s hesitation.

“...Hmm... That’s a difficult thing. Very difficult indeed.”

The Celestial Daoist’s eyes gleamed sharply.

“Who exactly are you?”

“I am a descendant of the Extreme North under Everlasting Snow Palace. Known as Hyun Seolrin, currently serving as commander of Yangryeong Province.”

The Celestial Daoist burst into hearty laughter.

Hrrhrrhrrhrr... “That sounds like you’re saying you don’t want to answer.”

“Weren’t you someone who claimed to have no interest in worldly matters?”

“If you find out too soon, the fun will be spoiled.”

“Hmm... But what if I decide it’s better to know now?”

“Then I would have misjudged you.”

“Hrrhrr... Fascinating. Truly fascinating.”

“I’d like to make a wager.”

The Celestial Daoist seemed to ponder for a moment, then casually spoke.

“I heard you said something during your game with Wang Muha and the others. That you didn’t particularly need anything, and they could decide later what to give you. Is that true?”

“Then are you proposing the same with me?”

“I have something specific I want from you, Elder Cheon.”

“Two things, for now.”

“Yes. Two requests. If I lose, I’ll tell you who I am and reveal everything I’ve kept hidden. But if I win, you must grant me both of my requests.”

Hrrhrr... “Two for one doesn’t seem fair, especially since I brought you a gift.”

“You must consider the difference in our status and cultivation. I’m merely a junior, while you, Elder Cheon, are already among the heavens.”

“Spoken well enough.”

Smiling, the Celestial Daoist placed a black stone at the center of the board.

“Let’s do it. A wagered game.”

I picked up a white stone and set it down.

In my past life, I learned Go from this man.

I wanted to resemble him. I pursued the path he walked.

I intend to defeat him.

Unhwi’s white stone landed in the upper right corner. The Celestial Daoist, without the slightest hesitation, placed a black stone in the lower left. Then Unhwi’s white stone in the upper left, the Celestial Daoist’s black stone in the lower right.

Without any conversation, stones moved across the board. The only sounds in the room were the quiet tuk, tuk, tuk of stones touching wood.

Once twenty moves had passed, a faint smile curled on the Celestial Daoist’s lips.

“Hrrhrr... Seol Gongja, who taught you Go?”

Unhwi fingered his white stone for a moment before replying.

“Another father of mine—one who exists in this world, and yet doesn’t.”

“Another father, is it...”

A glimmer of curiosity passed through the Celestial Daoist’s eyes.

“Your Go resembles mine. As if... you’d spent decades watching me play.”

In silence, Unhwi placed a white stone near the center—threatening three of the Celestial Daoist’s black stones.

“Even with that, do you still say so?”

The Celestial Daoist’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh ho... That move...”

He paused, deep in thought. In all his life of playing Go, he had never felt so pressured. His black stones were now in a precarious position.

“Hrrhrr... Such astounding insight at such a young age.”

Unhwi looked at him blankly.

“I’m merely placing stones.”

The sharp glint in Unhwi’s eyes made the Celestial Daoist feel, quite genuinely—happy.

“Your stone is quite sharp... but perhaps I can avoid it .”

The black stone he placed next completely reversed the momentum of the board.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t play there... But as expected of the Central Plains’ greatest player.”

Hrrhrrhrr... “I merely escaped. But I’ve lost a house... now I’ll have to use this stone to steal two of yours, Gongja.”

“Please do. But you’ll have to give up another house for it.”

Unhwi quietly placed another stone, and the Celestial Daoist followed.

Once they had surpassed forty moves, the game grew even more complex.

The Celestial Daoist’s black stones secured strong territory on the left and in the center. Unhwi’s white stones had formed solid formations in the upper and right sections.

To any observer, the game looked evenly matched.

The Celestial Daoist, after some thought—

“If this stone were...”

And placed a black stone on the upper center.

“What would you do if I played here?”

It was a brilliant and sharp move.

In that moment, seven of Unhwi’s white stones were endangered.

In human terms, it would be like seven hundred lives on the brink of death.

But when Unhwi played Go, he never thought of them as mere “stones.”

He might say he was placing stones—but in truth, he was placing people.

This had been the Celestial Daoist’s teaching.

To see stones as people, and people as stones—that was how one could move the world, how one could detect its changes. It was a simple lesson, but one that became a profound truth.

Comparing a single stone to a hundred lives had never felt more appropriate.

Even so, Unhwi’s gaze did not waver.

As if he had already anticipated it, he placed a white stone slightly to the right of center.

The Celestial Daoist’s eyes widened.

It was a strange move.

One that shouldn’t have gone there.

A misstep, what some would call suicidal—a dead move.

Why would he place such a stone?

Lost in deep thought, the Celestial Daoist suddenly burst out laughing.

“Ah... hahahaha! Unbelievable! How did you think of that move? This is truly... haha... ahahaha...”

You had to view the entire board anew to understand the purpose of that move.

It was utterly unexpected.

“I place this here... and then that there...”

As he murmured, the Celestial Daoist kept laughing—but his eyes were sharp, and his mind was spinning at terrifying speed.