Chapter 250

Chapter 250
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**Chapter 250**
**Third-Rate Martial Clan, Supreme Under Heaven**

To be honest, I couldn’t have cared less when the Tai Chi Sword Elder dragged his feet through the proceedings. I already knew what rewards were on offer, and the Azure Purity Pill was nothing I truly needed anyway.

A permanent boost of an entire jiazi’s worth of internal energy? Gaining the innate temperament of one who hunts demons and strikes down evil? For someone like me—who commanded vast reserves of pure energy, thanks to the pills left behind by the Sword Immortal—these benefits were utterly meaningless.

*But the Sword Immortal’s own written records? That was an entirely different matter.*

Even the Azure Purity Pill was such a rare treasure that releasing it into the martial world would set off a blood-soaked struggle. Yet it paled in comparison to words set down by the Sword Immortal’s own hand.

As if to prove just how extraordinary that was, the banquet hall erupted into wild excitement.

“Records personally left by Yeo Dong-bin!”
“It’s a living chronicle of the martial world itself!”
“If these were written during his lifetime, they must be at least a thousand years old…”
“Incredible…”

The towering figure of this era—no, the supreme master of all ages—was none other than the Sword Immortal Yeo Dong-bin. Every mind in the room fixed on the same thought: what if even a single sword stance of the Sword Immortal’s was preserved in those pages? Surely it would hold insights from a realm beyond ordinary understanding, and paths to enlightenment itself. Even if it were nothing more than casual journal entries, studying and reflecting deeply upon them would yield something of immense value.

Greed blazed in every pair of eyes. No one could help but covet such a treasure as the Sword Immortal’s Records. Decades earlier, the brutal massacre at the Sword King’s Tournament had seen two or three factions of the Nine Great Sects wiped out or shattered, with countless lives lost—all because someone sought the legacy of a single World’s Supreme Individual. Now, before them lay the legacy of the one hailed as the greatest in all of history.

“Sect Leader. Bring it forth.”

At the Tai Chi Sword Elder’s command, the leader of Wudang stepped forward carrying an antique wooden box. The moment the lid was lifted, a clear, pristine energy filled every corner of the banquet hall.

“Ah…”
“So pure…”
“This surpasses the aura of most divine artifacts!”

Divine artifacts existed across the realm—Shaolin’s Emerald Jade Flame Lamp, Wudang’s Pine Gate Ancient Sword, each imbued with extraordinary properties; the Jeokgal clan’s Straw Dragon Crown, said to grant its wearer superhuman intellect. These were the sacred treasures of their age, and the Sword Immortal’s Records stood among the very foremost of them.

“How can a book give off such an aura?”
“That is exactly why it is the Sword Immortal’s legacy.”

Amidst the murmurs and speculation, only Baek Yang-hwi truly grasped the nature of the radiant energy pouring from the box. *Pure energy*, he realized. *That book contains it, faint yet unmistakable.*

Why had the rewards shifted so dramatically? The Azure Purity Pill alone should have been more than enough to set every heart racing. Thirteen years had passed since I returned to this era, and in that time I had reshaped so much—yet changes significant enough to draw Wudang’s notice…

*Could it be the Three Great Demonic Cults? No. From what I saw of Neung O’s circumstances, the Sword Elder already understands those well enough.*

Two possibilities took shape in my mind. First: Adu had survived and entered the Dragon-Phoenix Contest, meaning the Sword Elder’s own disciple Hyun-geom had taken part as well—something that had not happened in my previous life. If the Elder truly believed Hyun-geom would become the Supreme Dragon, then offering the Sword Immortal’s Records and even the Pine Gate Ancient Sword made perfect sense.

It was time to test whether my suspicion was correct.

“Baek Yang-hwi of the Baek clan has a question for the honored Tai Chi Sword Elder.”

All heads turned toward me.
“Speak.”

“I thank you for the privilege of your attention. I ask: who do you believe will claim the title of Supreme Dragon?”

“There are many gifted young talents in the martial world… yet even so, one’s own kin come first. I hope and expect it will be Hyun-geom of Wudang.”

His tone carried unshakable conviction, the firm resolve that this outcome *must* come to pass. Of course it would. If Wudang produced the Supreme Dragon, their standing to lead a new Martial Alliance would be unassailable. In my former life, with Shaolin gone from the scene, the identity of the victor would have mattered far less—but this time, everything was different.

*So he has placed his entire wager on Hyun-geom*, I thought. The man’s confidence bordered on arrogance. And I intended to shatter it completely.

I met the Tai Chi Sword Elder’s gaze directly. His eyes were deep and timeless, like an ink-wash painting softened and blurred by the passing of more than a century. *Perhaps there is more to this than simple favoritism?* Then again, perhaps not. When the path forward was unclear, the only choice was to press ahead. My immediate goals remained the same: secure the title of Supreme Dragon, and claim the Sword Immortal’s Records.

Those records might well hold the key to everything. The voice I had heard when I turned back time—*Reverse Heaven Fate, Return to Proper Flow, Return and Fulfill Wishes*—had likely belonged to the Sword Immortal himself, the one who had granted me this second chance. There was still so much I did not understand, and every clue I could gather would bring me closer. Even if the texts said nothing of my return, they might hold secrets I had yet to uncover. Could the second stance of the Heavenly Dull Swordsmanship be hidden within them?

—

Lost in thought, I was roused when a messenger arrived with word from Neung O.
“Young master, Taoist Neung O of Jeomchang requests an audience.”

After the recent events, Neung O had been staying in the quarters occupied by members of the Tang clan, where elders of the Poison Hall—healers whose skill rivaled the finest physicians in the martial world—could tend to him. I had arranged for his care there myself.

“Neung O-hyung? I will go at once.”

It had been some ten days since I last saw him. He looked gaunt, and it was a wonder he was still alive after facing a sect leader and a master of transcendent skill in mortal combat. To see him walking and speaking so well was a testament to his strength.

“It has been too long, Neung O-hyung.”
“Baek Dou.”
“Call me Hwi—your younger brother. You have fulfilled your life’s purpose, after all.”
“To me, you are far more than a brother. Baek Dou is the name that truly suits you; you are worthy of it in every way.”

I did not press the point. “How fares your recovery?”
“I have kept a vow I have held all my life. What hardship could trouble me now?”

He seemed entirely at peace.
“I asked you here to thank you,” he said earnestly. “Thank you for believing in me, and for waiting.”
“There is no need. I trusted you because you deserved to be trusted—no thanks are needed.”
“That is true enough.”

He had changed in the three years since we first met, hardened yet unyielding, like stone forged under immense heat and pressure. *An arrow once loosed does not hesitate*, I thought. That single-minded resolve was what had carried him to victory against an enemy far stronger than himself. And here I was, still second-guessing every step.

I knew where I must go. But when the road split into so many uncertain paths, every choice seemed to change what lay ahead. Since the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly began, that feeling had grown stronger. The Blood Cult Leader, the Tai Chi Sword Elder, the Sword Immortal’s Records, Nanghon, the threat of ambush, the Namgung clan… there were simply too many unknowns. Experience told me to keep moving forward regardless, yet that did not make the worry vanish—not when the safety of my entire clan hung in the balance.

“You hesitate,” Neung O said quietly.
“Pardon?”
“It is written clearly across your face.”
“Ah… I am sorry to have been so distracted in your presence, Neung O-hyung.”
“Do not be.” His expression was as steady as a rock. “Let me give you one piece of advice: cut away the root of your doubt.”

It was exactly the sort of straightforward counsel I would expect from him, yet my situation was not so simple. “Once a life is taken, it cannot be restored. If your target is truly evil, there is no regret—but if you are uncertain, striking first brings only shame and remorse.”

Neung O slowly shook his head. “I killed my own master. I committed that gravest of sins.”
“There were reasons—”
“Third Moon Senior Brother was raised within Jeomchang. He rose to become our sect leader. Even if he turned to the Demonic Cult, he was still one of us.”

He knew as well as I did that without betrayal and treachery, he would have perished that day. Yet he did not excuse his own actions.
“And still, I struck him down. I became the arrow that rooted out the rot consuming Jeomchang from within. If you believe your cause is just, nothing else matters. Stand firm as a tree rooted deep; if your conviction is true, there is no reason to falter. The Baek Dou I know is wiser than most. Trust yourself, and let fly the arrow.”

His words cleared the fog from my mind.

—

“The victor is the Baek clan’s Heaven-Covering Sword Dragon!”

The match against Mo Yong-mo ended after a little more than five hundred exchanges. The Mo Yong clan was renowned for combining martial skill with mounted warfare tactics; without horses and open ground, their full strength could not be brought to bear. I had made it appear a hard-fought contest ending in narrow defeat for him—one I would tease him about later over a drink.

A message arrived soon after: *Thank you, Baek young master. I shall repay this kindness in full.*
*Think nothing of it*, I replied. He had always seemed delicate for a direct descendant of one of the Five Great Clans, and the small consideration had clearly moved him deeply.

I scanned the stands for a place to sit; my own bout was done, and I intended to watch the rest. I spotted an empty seat beside Adu. He had fought earlier that day, and when I tapped his shoulder he turned with a bright smile.
“Yang-hwi! Have some rice cake!”
“No thanks.”

A familiar hand patted my shoulder, and I knew who it was before I turned—her scent alone was enough.
“Seol-ha? I thought you had a match today.”

Jeokgal Seol-ha settled beside me, her veil fluttering as she did so, drawing admiring glances from all around.
“I finished early so I could watch someone compete.”
“Me? Then you missed the best part.”
“Not you—my real older brother.”

I nodded. Jeokgal Hwa-un had advanced to the last sixteen, fighting with skill worthy of his lineage. In any ordinary year, he might well have claimed the title of Supreme Dragon. But this assembly was filled with extraordinary talents unlike any seen before.

I frowned. *Nanghon seems to be provoking everyone connected to me. If he defeats Tang-hyung, he will likely target Jeokgal Hwa-un next—or perhaps Adu. Either way…* I thought of Neung O’s words. I was ready. My patience with Nanghon had run its course.

Then curiosity took hold. “Seol-ha, you said Nanghon admires you. Have you ever actually spoken to him?”
“Ugh, why would I?” She stuck out her tongue in distaste. “You’re just going to ask me to spy on him, aren’t you? No thank you.”
“That wasn’t what I was going to ask.”

Her reaction told me something more was at play. “It is not just dislike, is it? You sense something about him, don’t you?”

Thanks to her unique Peach Blossom Physique, Jeokgal Seol-ha could perceive the inner nature of others—the very shape of their hearts and minds. Her judgment was rarely wrong.
“For most people, the more positive someone is, the brighter and fairer their mind-image appears. But his is different. It looks beautiful… yet it feels repulsive. I do not want to go near it.”

That was not what I expected. “What does it look like?”
“Sort of like my brother’s.”
“Jeokgal Hwa-un?”
“No—you.”

“Mine? You said mine looked like a battered rock.”
“It did… before.”
“Can they change so easily?”
“Not usually. I have scarcely seen it happen. But how I see them can change.” She considered carefully. “Yours does not look like a rock anymore. And Nanghon’s… his is not what it seems. It feels wrong. Unsettling.”

I leaned in. “Go on.”
“With you, I want to know what lies beneath the surface. With him… it feels like standing in total darkness, not knowing what waits inside.”

“Black? Twisted? Like the followers of the Dark Path?” If so, it would confirm he was tied to the Blood Cult.
“No,” she said firmly. “His mind-image is not dark at all.”
“Then what is it?”

Jeokgal Seol-ha glanced toward where Nanghon stood, then turned back to me.
“It is a flower bud,” she said quietly. “Enormous, and purest white… without a single speck of color upon it. That is what I saw.”

—