Chapter 191: Chapter 191

Seol Unhae had clearly colluded with them.

He had conspired with them to kill Seol Horyeong, the Daeseollin—and had even tried to kill himself, the Hyeonseollin.

This was not something that could be brushed aside.

“You know better than anyone that his crime is not a light one. He tried to harm the Polar Heir and colluded with Baekryeongak. This shakes the very foundation of Seolgung.”

“I understand. My son's sin is grave.”

Tears streamed down Jin Soyeom’s face.

“But as a mother... what else can I do but beg for my son’s life?”

From her appearance, Unhwi saw true maternal love. The kind of mother’s affection he had never known himself. For a fleeting moment, the portrait of his mother, kept in a quiet corner of his heart, surfaced in his thoughts—but he immediately pushed it away.

“I may be the one involved, but the matter is no longer in my hands. This is for the Palace Lord to decide, and all must abide by his ruling.”

It might be called cold—but it was unavoidable.

This was also what Seol Jungcheon had directly promised to Unhwi. And for Unhwi, who valued personal promises more than anything, there was no turning back.

Without Seol Jungcheon’s judgment, the Polar Heir could not be executed.

However, as he’d told Unhae—there was still a chance.

Looking down at the now pale Jin Soyeom, Unhwi spoke quietly.

“If you truly wish for Seol Unhae to live, isn’t standing here wasting time rather foolish?”

“Send word immediately to Hanbing Gate, your maternal clan, and command them to offer every possible support to the Daeseollin. People, wealth, weapons, spiritual pills—whatever it may be. Mobilize everything Hanbing Gate possesses and have them aid the Daeseollin. If a blade must be taken, let them take it. If there are obstacles, let them clear the way.” Check latest chapters at NoveI~Fire.net

Jin Soyeom’s eyes widened.

“Do that, and you’ll secure some leverage. Enough, at least, to preserve Seol Unhae’s life.”

“But let me be clear: Seol Unhae will never again participate in Seolgung's affairs. Should you overreach beyond that, any merit you’ve earned will be buried beneath the weight of his crime. Now, please rise.”

Jin Soyeom rose immediately, tears shimmering at the corners of her eyes.

“...Thank you, Hyeonseollin. I will never forget this favor.”

Unhwi gave a slight nod and replied briefly.

“In the past, Seol Unhae tormented me plenty, and you encouraged it or turned a blind eye. I’ll forget all of that.”

Jin Soyeom had nothing to say in response. She only bowed her head.

Unhwi continued, his voice quiet and even.

“I remember, when I was still very young—before I was seen as a competitor. One day, wandering alone in the rear garden, you gave me a Gold Wound Pill.”

At his words, Jin Soyeom raised her head sharply.

“...When you were four... you remember that?”

“I do. It was only that one time. After that, you treated me like a bastard child, barring me even from the medicinal wing. But that single warm memory stayed with me. Can I consider today’s favor as repayment for that pill?”

Jin Soyeom covered her face and began to weep uncontrollably.

“Everyone has moments in their past that shine. Whether that kindness you showed to a lonely child that day was your true self, or just a momentary lapse from guilt—I don't know. But even that... is a bond, is it not?”

Unhwi turned his head and gazed toward the distant thickets.

Then, with a subtle wave, he signaled.

From the foliage, a woman stepped forth.

She had medium-length hair, a solid build, and wore an unadorned white robe that revealed nothing of her status.

Each of the three wives of Seolgung was assigned a personal guard.

Their rank was Bingwisa—Ice Guardian Envoy.

Their martial prowess was at minimum Mythic Realm.

They were sometimes women, sometimes men. The term of service lasted from three to five years, and the woman who now stepped forward, being the guardian of the Third Lady, was called the Third Bingwisa.

“Take the Third Lady with you.”

“...Yes, Lord Hyeonseollin. As you command.”

“And forget everything you heard at this place.”

Jin Soyeom bowed deeply, then left with the Third Bingwisa.

As Unhwi watched her go, no emotion stirred in his eyes.

Only the portrait of his mother brushed briefly against his heart.

A mother whose face he couldn’t even remember.

If she had lived... would she have done something like that for him?

Unhwi cast the thought away at once.

He had come too far to be swayed by such emotions.

“...Lord Hyeonseollin.”

He turned toward Yang Cheol.

“...You’re incredible.”

Unhwi chuckled faintly.

“Just focus on driving the damn carriage.”

“You can count on it.”

Unhwi stepped back into the carriage, and Yang Cheol climbed up to the driver’s seat and drove forward.

He didn’t know much about the man called Hyeonseollin.

But the more he saw, the more genuine Unhwi felt.

He found it so regrettable.

A man like Unhwi should have become the Heir of Seolgung.

It was truly a complicated matter.

Who is the Palace Lord of Seolgung?

Who is the designated heir?

The eldest son, Seol Horyeong.

And who stands against Seol Horyeong to uphold the discipline of the Snow Mountain?

The second son, Seol Muryeon.

That would have been the ideal structure.

But everything began to change with the appearance of Unhwi.

Now, no one in Seolsan dared ignore him.

On the contrary, praise poured in—he had not only the qualities of a Palace Heir but even of a future Palace Lord.

Just like Yang Cheol secretly thought: Unhwi should be the next in line.

What’s more, no matter what happened from now on, Unhwi’s value would only grow.

But from the perspective of the Eternal Snow Palace, that was by no means a good thing.

Power should be concentrated in the Heir and the Lord.

If it was divided, that would only weaken the palace.

Calling it a good thing would be insane.

Unhwi was both a strength that could raise Seolgung—and a double-edged sword that could destroy it.

This had been inevitable since the moment Unhwi himself declared that he would not become the heir.

That’s why Seol Jungcheon had asked again.

Are you sure about this?

As if to say: You of all people know what that means. Are you certain?

Unhwi had never once lied to Seol Jungcheon.

As long as his father was safe, the Polar Heir survived, and Seolsan endured—that was enough.

And so, once matters in Seolgung were settled, he intended to leave for the Thousand Righteous Alliance.

There was plenty of time.

Just as Unhwi was thinking this, his brow furrowed slightly.

And then Yang Cheol brought the carriage to a stop.

It wasn’t a visitor this time. Not someone expected. Yang Cheol didn’t even need to ask.

Unhwi reached for the Heavenshaking Spiritblade strapped to his right hip and swung it without hesitation.

The carriage split—and the two flying daggers soaring toward them were deflected midair.

He tilted his head slightly to look. Yang Cheol had done the same.

Of the three flying daggers hurled at him, he had deflected two and caught the last with his off hand.

“...Lord Hyeonseollin. Assassins. Their position isn’t clear. For now, you should take cove—”

“There are ten in total. Two in the right thicket, two more hiding behind the trees beyond. Handle those four.”

Yang Cheol blinked—then nodded and darted in that direction.

Unhwi’s gaze shifted slowly.

Realizing their position had been exposed, the assassins revealed themselves.

All dressed in tight black clothes, their faces covered.

Their determination to remain anonymous was palpable—but against someone like Unhwi, it was meaningless.

The six masked assassins flinched visibly.

Unhwi fixed his gaze on one of them and continued.

“Clever move. Yangryeong has that monster at the level of Heaven-Man Unity, so assassinating me there was impossible. So instead, you waited outside the province, tracking my movements until the moment was right to strike? From start to finish, your whole operation reeks of cowardice, Seo Hwabaek.”

At Unhwi’s cutting words, the assassins’ brows furrowed—but when he spoke that name at the end, their bodies froze.

Unhwi’s gaze had never shifted—from beginning to end, it remained fixed on one person.

That man slowly pulled off his mask.

A man with a striking head of hair—half white, half black.

There was no way Unhwi wouldn’t.

Not long ago, Unhwi ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) had killed Yu Hwarin, the Lord of the Ghost-Soul Pavilion.

Before he died, Yu Hwarin had mentioned some things.

Yuhonmun, the Ghost-Soul Gate, handled matters on behalf of the Original Blood Sect.

That included planting sleeper agents across both outer and central Murim.

It was a strategic game.

In a conflict, having defenders or voices to shield your side—or attack the opposition—made managing fallout easier.

The reverse was also true; righteous or demonic sects also placed spies within the Blood Sect.

Seo Hwabaek was an assassin like Yu Hwarin, responsible for seeding agents in the outer Murim.

“Were you aiming to take Yu Hwarin’s place?”

“...So the bastard really told you everything before he died.”

“Is that how it looks?”

“What else could it be? That cowardice—calling me a ‘coward’—it’s clearly a projection of Yu Hwarin’s inferiority complex, always falling behind me despite trying to compete. What other explanation is there?”

Unhwi chuckled coldly.

“Still the same, I see. That level of self-justification is pathological. Too bad you won’t have time to get it treated.”

The eyes around them tensed—and the assassins closed in on Unhwi.

“Seems your intelligence network’s out of date.”

“...What do you mean?”

“Originally, I should’ve died inside that secret realm. But here I am. Which must mean... Ah. So you’ve been busy recruiting spies in this area too?”

“Whether it's an individual or an entire sect, no need to tell me. I’ll find out myself.”

“You arrogant son of a—!”

Engulfed in a miniature snowstorm, Unhwi launched forward.

It was one of Seolgung’s signature movement techniques:

Celestial Glide Shadowstep (Cheonreung Ryuyeongbo).

In an instant, Unhwi appeared before one assassin.

Without hesitation, he swung the Heavenshaking Spiritblade in his left hand.

Frost Severing Phantom Blade (Jeolbyeong Gwihyeo Geom).

A streak of cold imbued with the chill of Seolsan sliced across the assassin’s neck.

A thunderclap rang out, a line drawn in space, and a head flying into the sky.

It was an art form unto itself.

Two more heads soared into the heavens.