Chapter 184

Chapter 184
## Chapter 184: Evolution (3)

As the thick shadows of twilight began to blanket the land, Cheol Woo returned from his foray into the wild, hauling a gargantuan boar across his shoulders. Following closely behind, Black Wolf carried the weight of a massive deer draped over its back.

Thud!

Cheol Woo unceremoniously dumped the carcass at the feet of Manchu, who was busy tending to the campfire.

“Damn, what are they feeding the boars around here to make them grow like houses?”

Manchu stared in disbelief at the mountain of fur and muscle before him.

“It’s time we had a proper feast. I’ve been eating so much greenery lately I’m starting to feel like livestock. Clean it up well. And don’t worry about bleeding it out; I carried it inverted, so the work’s half done.”

“Understood.”

Manchu straightened up, his eyes bright as he began his inspection of the prize.

True to Cheol Woo’s word, a jagged blade mark spanned the boar’s throat, where the blood had already begun to set within the deep gashes.

“Gwayu, that one is your responsibility.”

Cheol Woo gestured toward the deer still resting on Black Wolf.

“Right away, sir.”

Gwayu offered a quick pat to Black Wolf’s head before unloading the second kill.

“Is the Boss still…?”

Cheol Woo turned his attention to So Surin. She was perched on a wooden bench, her gaze fixed vacantly on the dancing orange light of the fire Manchu had built.

“Yes. Not a single sound from inside.”

“Ten days now, isn’t it?”

“Exactly ten.”

“I wonder how long he intends to stay buried in there. Things in the outside world are starting to shift.”

Cheol Woo glanced toward a cluster of tents pitched a short distance away and lowered his voice.

“The injured over there—they’ve mostly pulled through, right?”

“They aren’t at full strength, but they can travel. Word is they plan to move out by tomorrow.”

“I suppose we can’t linger here forever, especially with that promised duel hanging over us.”

Cheol Woo’s expression was one of genuine regret. Observing this, So Surin let out a small, mocking snort.

“What’s that face for? Feeling lonely already?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Who’s lonely?”

Cheol Woo widened his eyes in a mock glare, but So Surin wasn’t deterred in the slightest.

“You look like a pining child. If it hurts that much to see them go, why not beg them to stay another day? They might just say yes for old time’s sake.”

For a fleeting second, Cheol Woo actually looked like he was considering it, before his face twisted into a scowl.

“Shut your mouth! Keep talking that garbage and I’ll bury you.”

“Fine, fine, no need to get violent… Oh! Jin, you’re out?”

Cheol Woo spun around with the speed of a startled cat, his heart leaping.

But the doorway was empty. Manchu, who was currently elbow-deep in the boar’s midsection, looked up in confusion.

“Pwahaha!”

The sound of So Surin’s laughter rang out as she doubled over on the bench, clutching her sides.

“You crazy woman, I ought to…”

Cheol Woo’s face turned a violent shade of crimson, a roar building in his chest—

Creak.

The door that had remained sealed for ten days finally groaned open. Sima Geon stepped out into the light. He looked hollowed out, his features so gaunt and sharp that he was nearly unrecognizable.

“C-Captain.”

Cheol Woo’s anger vanished, replaced by an awkward halt. So Surin stopped her laughing and sprang up, rushing toward the doorway.

“Division Leader! Are you alright?”

As she reached out to steady him, Sima Geon gently brushed her hand aside. His eyes were locked onto Manchu—specifically, the meat being prepared.

“I’m starving.”

—

The evening meal was a grand affair.

The combined haul from Cheol Woo and Black Wolf provided enough meat to satisfy their own group, as well as the disciples of the Sword Empress and the Sword Pavilion, for several days.

After setting aside what they needed, Cheol Woo distributed the surplus to the local villagers, who had been living in a state of constant trepidation since the arrival of these powerful warriors.

Neung Sohwa finished her meal quickly. She sat back, watching Sima Geon’s companions share the jars of liquor she had traded some meat for, her expression unreadable.

“What’s captured your attention so thoroughly?”

Jinrim spoke up with a smirk, but Danrihwa immediately silenced her with a sharp, warning glare.

Without taking her eyes off Sima Geon, Neung Sohwa spoke in a hushed tone.

“His aura… it has transformed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Before this, I could at least sense the boundaries of his strength, even if I couldn’t match it. But now? I can’t feel a thing. It’s as if he’s empty. What happened in that room?”

“He didn’t eat for ten days. He’s probably just drained,” Jinrim suggested innocently. “He looks like he’s lost half his body weight.”

Danrihwa sighed at the simplistic answer.

Neung Sohwa shook her head, a faint, knowing smile touching her lips.

“It isn’t just physical fatigue. A fundamental change has occurred, something beyond the reach of our senses.”

Danrihwa tilted her head in confusion.

“Without swinging a sword once? How does one’s martial prowess grow while sitting in total silence?”

“Perhaps it wasn’t a growth of the body, but a crystallization of the mind. An enlightenment.”

Neung Sohwa looked at Sima Geon, her eyes shimmering with certainty.

Her intuition was validated in less than twenty-four hours.

The morning following Sima Geon’s emergence, the entire party began their journey toward the Living Immortal Medical House.

Throughout the trek, Sima Geon remained a ghost, wrapped in a shroud of silence and deep contemplation. However, when they made camp that evening, he called Cheol Woo for a spar.

While Sima Geon had frequently tested So Surin, Manchu, and Gwayu in recent weeks, it had been a long time since he had faced Cheol Woo.

As the duel stretched on, Sima Geon displayed a style that felt alien. To an outsider, it might have looked normal, but to Cheol Woo—who understood Sima Geon’s martial foundation better than anyone—it was deeply unsettling.

That day marked the beginning of Cheol Woo’s personal nightmare.

In the past, their sparring sessions were designed to sharpen the group’s collective skills. Now, Cheol Woo was merely the whetstone for Sima Geon’s own blade.

Sima Geon held nothing back, using the sessions to physically manifest the abstract truths he had uncovered during his seclusion.

Feeling a chilling, predatory pressure emanating from his captain, Cheol Woo fought with a desperation he hadn’t felt in years. He wasn’t fighting to win; he was fighting to remain in one piece.

“It isn’t quite right.”

That was the phrase Sima Geon muttered repeatedly during their exchanges. Every time he said it, Cheol Woo wanted to scream.

‘Not right? If that wasn’t right, I’d be dead ten times over!’

The most attentive witness to these clashes was Neung Sohwa.

The Sword Empress, having already glimpsed the path to higher understanding during Sima Geon’s battle with Yagul Jae, watched these sessions with an intensity that bordered on hunger. She, too, found herself growing.

Yet, her progress was a drop in the ocean compared to Sima Geon’s.

Neung Sohwa noticed that Sima Geon’s movements—once jagged, wild, and overwhelming—were becoming increasingly streamlined. They were becoming simpler, more natural, and terrifyingly ordinary.

There was only one conclusion to be drawn.

On the road to the Living Immortal Medical House, Sima Geon was undergoing a metamorphosis at a speed that defied logic.

—

“I see the news has reached your ears as well.”

Sima Sang offered a calm smile to Yagul Soseong and Yagul Cheon-gyeong as they burst into the room, their faces etched with urgency.

“Yes. We came the moment the runners arrived.”

Yagul Soseong spoke, his voice thick with adrenaline.

“I never would have guessed that Father’s journey to the North Sea Ice Palace would yield such explosive results.”

“Even I was caught off guard. We knew the North Sea Ice Palace would be an ally, and they promised to mobilize, but for them to strike south with such ferocity… even the Cult Leader likely didn’t expect this level of aggression.”

Despite the humility of his words, Sima Sang looked entirely at ease as he sipped his tea. It was the look of a man who had seen the board long before the pieces moved.

“I knew the North Sea Ice Palace held power, but to think the Northern Hebei Peng Clan would fall so quickly. They might have been declining, but they were still one of the Five Great Clans.”

Yagul Cheon-gyeong looked as though he was still processing the magnitude of the report.

“The entire martial world is reeling from the Peng Clan’s collapse.”

“Reeling from the North Sea Ice Palace, you mean,” Sima Sang corrected with a chuckle.

It was true. While everyone had been watching the Heavenly Demon Cult and the brewing tensions in the south, this bolt from the blue had struck. It wasn’t just a border skirmish; it was a tectonic shift in the jianghu.

“What exactly is the extent of our pact with them?”

Sima Sang replied to Yagul Soseong’s inquiry.

“For the time being, they have agreed to pin down Shaolin.”

At the mention of Shaolin, both Yagul Soseong and Yagul Cheon-gyeong stiffened. The name alone carried a weight that demanded respect—and fear.

“Is that even possible? We are talking about Shaolin.”

Sima Sang’s smile widened slightly at Yagul Cheon-gyeong’s hesitation.

“That is their problem to solve. However, I have faith in them. The Martial Alliance is fractured, and Shaolin won’t find it easy to call for reinforcements—but the North Sea Ice Palace isn’t acting alone.”

“What do you imply?”

“They’ve brought a massive coalition down from the north. They won’t be easily repelled.”

Yagul Cheon-gyeong shook his head slowly.

“Even a weakened Martial Alliance has teeth when Shaolin is involved. Wudang, Huashan, and the Beggars’ Clan will not sit idly by. Even the Shandong Eum Clan, who are cousins to the Pengs, will seek blood. The Sichuan Tang and Nangong might be occupied, but Huashan, Wudang, and Eum combined… that is a formidable wall.”

“Which is why letting them bleed each other dry is the perfect scenario.”

“Excuse me?”

“From the perspective of our Cult, the best outcome is a massacre where no one truly wins. We want them to exhaust themselves against one another.”

Yagul Soseong, having processed the strategy, spoke up.

“And that is when the Righteous Heaven Alliance makes its move.”

Sima Sang’s smile turned sharp.

“So you see the vision?”

“It’s becoming clear. You mentioned it once—the Alliance Leader’s first public act will be to ‘save’ the land from the Northern invasion.”

“Precisely.”

“But does the North Sea Ice Palace not realize we are behind the Righteous Heaven Alliance?”

“They do not. There was no benefit in revealing that.”

“So the Alliance simply waits for the slaughter? If they wait too long, the people will lose faith, or worse, they’ll start asking questions.”

“We will ensure the timing is perfect. Do not fret. When the moment is right, something else will capture the world’s attention.”

As the two men looked at him with questioning eyes, Sima Sang placed his teacup on the table.

“A villain must take the stage to create a diversion. That distraction will give the Alliance the window it needs. We will then strike the North Sea Ice Palace and dismantle the remaining shards of the Martial Alliance in one stroke. That is the masterpiece the Cult Leader and I have composed.”

“Ah!”

The realization hit both men simultaneously.

“Furthermore…”

Sima Sang began to detail the phases to follow. By the time he was finished, Yagul Soseong was visibly moved.

“Brilliant. When did you plan all of this?”

“The seeds were planted long ago. But it was the Cult Leader who breathed life into this old man’s theories and made them a reality.”

Sima Sang made sure to attribute the success to Yagul Jae.

“But is it true? Has Father really returned to seclusion so soon?”

“He has.”

“He just came out. Why go back now?”

“Who can say? Even I cannot claim to know every thought that passes through his mind.”

Sima Sang kept to himself the fact that Yagul Jae had retreated into solitude immediately following his defeat at the hands of Sima Geon.

“Regardless, there is no cause for alarm. He assured me his stay would be brief.”