I slowly walked into Mansadong.

Since the Demonic Alliance had turned it into a sanctuary, the interior was well arranged. The air circulated well, and thanks to the embedded nightlight jewels scattered throughout, the inside was bright.

After walking a bit further, I reached a spacious area — this was Mansadong. On newly added walls, the life of the Mansajongju (Mansa Sect Leader) was recorded with text and illustrations.

From his unfortunate childhood and the grueling martial training he endured, to his youthful exploits and his eventual rise to become the great master of the heterodox sect — it was all documented.

But that was all there was. Nothing else. This was the reason Bishain had allowed me in. It was merely a place recording the life of a heterodox master who had been called a legend three hundred years ago.

The climax of his life was the battle with the Heavenly Demon.

Though he did not win, surviving that fight made him a figure still spoken of today.

According to the writings on the wall, he stayed here for ten days, healing his injuries. Fortunately, there was water here, which helped him endure.

It also noted that after retiring, he no longer appeared in the martial world.

What was not written was that before he died, he had left a treatise on his martial knowledge here.

So how was this known?

Ten years later, an earthquake collapsed the wall, revealing a new space.

I drew the Black Demon Sword.

A sky-blue sword aura shimmered on the blade.

I embedded the sword with its aura beneath the west wall. Following the dividing line under the wall, which had been made for the text and illustrations, I carefully cut out a rectangular hole just big enough for one person.

The collapsed wall was this west wall. The wall was not thick, but I cut deeply enough to penetrate it, then used internal energy to push the stone slab aside, sliding inside.

I crawled into the inner space — the place where Mansajongju had left his teachings on martial knowledge before he died.

The treatise was inscribed on the walls. Since it was left in a secret space, it seemed clear he did not want unrelated people to see it.

I slowly read it.

It was a comprehensive treatise on martial arts, based on the insights gained from the battle with the Heavenly Demon.

Mansajongju’s martial knowledge was extraordinarily refined and noble. Ordinary masters would find it meaningless and abstruse, even after a hundred readings. But I was no ordinary master.

I read it repeatedly. The greatest legacy left by the top heterodox master in the last three hundred years. There was no need to memorize it; it was a matter of understanding.

At first, I gained insight from differences — the new learning from heterodox martial arts, completely unlike our sect’s martial arts.

But the more I read and reread, the more I realized that all martial arts began from a single root, and that understanding their unity was the true insight.

They were both similar and different. Knowing precisely what differed and what matched — this subtlety was the difference between becoming a peerless master or not.

I drew my sword, swung it, then returned to reading. Again and again, like a madman, I practiced techniques. The # Nоvеlight # experience was fresh and intense.

Had I learned only sect martial arts or only heterodox techniques, his teachings wouldn’t have resonated so deeply.

But I had based myself on sect martial arts and lived a life transcending factions. Because of that, Mansajongju’s final insights resonated strongly with me.

At a moment when I was practicing the Radiant Sword Art techniques, I suddenly realized —

I had attained the Twelve-Star Great Perfection of the Radiant Sword Art.

Like water flowing naturally downward, Mansajongju’s teachings led me effortlessly to the next level.

The Ten-Star and Twelve-Star Great Perfections were different realms — the ultimate pinnacle where a martial art finally completed its perfection.

“Ah!”

I rejoiced. In my previous life, I had never attained the Twelve-Star Great Perfection in any martial art. Now, achieving it with the noble Radiant Sword Art, I felt as if I could fly.

I knelt and bowed deeply. Though he was a heterodox grand master, I sincerely expressed my gratitude.

“Thank you truly for leaving such profound teachings. Though the Demonic Alliance failed to receive this precious destiny, one who wishes to aid your descendants has accepted it — so do not be too disappointed.”

As I rose, something caught my eye.

From the place visible only while bowing, something was hidden. Approaching, I found a letter — Mansajongju’s letter. The last phrase caught my eye.

“...Though I consume this Ten-Thousand-Year Black Spirit Mushroom, I have realized I cannot kill the Heavenly Demon. Therefore, I leave this behind for later generations without taking it myself. To the one who inherits this fate, please cherish this bond.”

“Ten-Thousand-Year Black Spirit Mushroom?”

Surprised, I looked around where the letter lay. Behind it was a small hole. Peering inside, I saw the mushroom indeed growing there.

I infused a little internal energy and pushed; the earthen wall crumbled, revealing a small space.

Amazingly, inside grew the Ten-Thousand-Year Black Spirit Mushroom — a spiritual herb far more potent than any elixir I had taken before.

Had I not bowed with gratitude to Mansajongju, I would not have found the letter or this mushroom. Whether intended or by chance, I had obtained a second great fortune.

‘Thank you once again.’

Carefully, I harvested the mushroom. It was smaller than usual mushrooms but contained the accumulated sacred energy of countless years.

I consumed the Ten-Thousand-Year Black Spirit Mushroom on the spot.

A tremendous energy spread through my body. Such power could rupture blood vessels in those unprepared.

But strengthened by the Heavenly Vein Reinforcement Technique and the gentle internal energy accumulated from prior elixirs, I was able to absorb the mushroom without any side effects.

I circulated my energy a cycle, then another, then a third, focusing carefully on dissolving it. After storing the energy in my dantian, I opened my eyes.

Though I could not know exactly how deep the internal energy of my father, the martial alliance leader, and the Demonic Alliance leader was, I could now confidently say my internal energy rivaled theirs.

I left the letter and Mansajongju’s teachings on the wall untouched. When the earthquake came, most had been damaged anyway, so there was no need to erase them myself.

I crawled out and restored the stone slab I had moved.

With time remaining until the promised second time, I read the part about Mansajongju’s final battle with the Heavenly Demon.

The Heavenly Demon Soul had manifested during their fight. As the heterodox had painted the picture, the Heavenly Demon Soul was depicted almost as a demon.

I stared closely at the Heavenly Demon Soul.

If one attains the Great Perfection of the Fiery Demon Martial Art, one can manifest the Heavenly Demon Soul.

Could I one day produce my own Heavenly Demon Soul? What form would mine take? Would it appear as a giant like this or as a smaller being?

My heart thumped at the thought.

Then—

Swish. I felt as if the Heavenly Demon Soul in the painting was looking at me.

Startled, I looked again, but it remained as in the painting.

It was actually the second time I experienced such a sensation.

When my father had pressured me with demonic energy, deep in the abyss I once felt a huge presence watching me.

This was exactly the same feeling.

Was my desperate longing for the Fiery Demon Martial Art causing hallucinations?

“Next time, I’ll see you when I manifest, not just in a painting.”

I bid farewell to the Heavenly Demon Soul and left Mansadong.

Outside, Bishain waited, eyes full of curiosity. But with his level, he could not discern any change.

“You read well. This is truly a sanctuary. Mansajongju was a remarkable man.”

“Don’t ever come back here.”

“It may be a sanctuary for you all, but for me, it’s a suffocating underground cave. Once was enough. Let’s go.”

We left through the pond by which we entered.

Emerging below the waterfall, we flew to the cliff above. Compared to my swift ascent, he paused once halfway up.

We began running toward the Demonic Alliance main hall.

After running nonstop, we took a brief rest, sitting side by side on a hill. Bishain spoke with concern.

“There must be chaos now. The Demonic Alliance’s successor is missing — and with the Heavenly Demon’s bloodline.”

“Maybe it’s not as bad as it seems.”

He looked at me and asked,

“Why do you think so?”

“Soma must have warned Il-rang. If dangerous things had happened, there would have been no need to make a fuss.”

“Did you tell Geukak Soma to do that?”

I shook my head.

“Sometimes you can understand without words.”

“This is the first time the successor has been separated from the Demonic Twelve Lords. Yet I cannot predict their movements at all.”

He couldn’t hide his bitterness. I felt some guilt for having caused their division.

“How does it feel to be alone?”

“I’m not sure yet. I thought it would be uncomfortable, but I’m not uneasy or anxious.”

“That’s because I’m here. I have a charm that puts people at ease.”

My shameless words earned an incredulous look from Bishain. But spending time with him allowed me to detect subtle expressions. At first, his face had been a dull mask, but upon closer look, differences appeared.

“Now I can read the Second Prince’s expressions.”

When I mentioned expressions, he flinched. Like a mask to Geukak Soma, Bishain’s facial scars were a sensitive spot. But I did not hesitate to touch on it.

“When you find a trusted subordinate, show them your expressions in detail. Only then can they truly read your feelings. Often, the closer the relationship and the more respect they have, the harder it is to read the Second Prince’s expressions. Don’t make that mistake.”

“Why give me this advice?”

“Because I hope the Demonic Alliance functions well. That the sect, the Ghost Alliance, and the Martial Alliance balance each other. If that balance collapses... you know what will happen.”

“Is that all?”

“Did I ever learn to trust people? Still, you must trust when the time comes.”

“I don’t understand why you risk so much.”

“The reason is simple. That man tried to kill us. He tried to use Soma. There is every reason to kill him. But don’t think we will support you forever. We’re not vengeful fools. If the situation looks bad, we’ll pull out quickly. This is your problem, Second Prince.”

Bishain seemed conflicted.

“I don’t know what to do. Honestly, I’m confused.”

The Bishain I met at first and the one now were very different. Wounded pride blinds people’s eyes, but now his will to overcome reality was stronger than his pride.

“Is it not simple?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just return the favor as he did. He tried to kill you; you kill his grandson. He did not try to seize power by killing the Demonic Alliance leader but by killing you, the successor. So kill him the same way. Throw away fear and awe of Seok Gwan-chu. He is just a filthy old man craving power. Forget evidence or excuses — just kill him.”

Bishain nodded deeply.

“Yes, this is truly a simple matter.”

Something blocked in his mind seemed to clear.

“I will kill them all. Anyone who blocks me will also die.”

“Of course you should. Don’t complicate simple matters.”

After staring at me for a moment, Bishain asked,

“Can you still read my expression?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Happiness.”

“I really did have an expression, then.”

“You didn’t know?”

“No. Everyone always avoided my face.”

“Maybe not everyone — probably you. Stop breaking mirrors.”

His face, which would have been angry before, now broke into a broader smile. I stared at it for a while before standing.

“Let’s run!”