When I visited, Ilhwa Sword Lord was once again fully devoted to sword training, her face free of any makeup.

I understood well why she was so deeply absorbed in martial arts. For masters with Mazon-level skill, achieving true mastery in martial arts was like a rare opportunity granted by fate. And whenever such a moment came, Ilhwa Sword Lord was the kind of person who would unquestionably make that achievement her own.

After soaring through the air and swinging her sword fiercely, she turned toward me.

Her challenging gaze said exactly this:

“Come in!”

If it’s a fight, then I have to engage. Without hesitation, I pushed off the ground and rushed toward her.

The Black Demon Sword and Ilhwa Sword clashed in midair. Even though I attacked faster than in our last duel, she parried all my strikes.

Her skills had definitely improved, so I increased both my power and speed.

The swords struck so fast that the usual sharp “clang clang clang” was replaced by a continuous, ringing “chaaeaeaeeng” sound.

Dozens of sword trails blossomed and vanished in dazzling displays. To any observer, it would have been impossible to discern where attacks or defenses originated in such a rapid exchange.

The speed of our swordplay increased steadily.

This was no longer a fight between me and Ilhwa Sword Lord. It was instincts wielding the sword, instincts defending. One moment’s mistake could mean a severed arm or a sliced throat. It was a duel more realistic than any actual battle.

At the peak of speed,

a discordant “tatang!” sound erupted, and we both landed together on the ground.

Thud.

Ilhwa Sword struck the floor.

She had dropped her sword again.

There was no sign of regret or shame in Ilhwa Sword Lord’s expression. Although defeated, she looked satisfied because we had fought so well. The swordplay she had displayed moments ago was likely the finest she had ever shown in her life.

She asked me,

“How far do you intend to take me?”

She fully understood my intent—to push her to her limits, to tell her not to be satisfied, not to stop yet.

“I intend to go all the way.”

All the way.

Yes, I intend to go all the way with these Mazons.

“Why?”

“As I said before, you are the only senior who can inspire me as I share and refine swordsmanship. The only ones I can freely spar with are my father and you. But I cannot fight my father so often, and even when I do, it’s a different kind of battle. Therefore, dueling you is extremely precious to me.”

After a brief pause, I conveyed my sincerity.

“I want to go together until the moment we lay down our swords.”

Passion flickered across Ilhwa Sword Lord’s face.

She looked down at her empty hand and asked,

“Do you remember our first duel?”

“I do.”

She openly shared her honest feelings.

“At that time, I was thinking: ‘I’ll live as a Mazon for another ten years, then pass the title to my successor and enjoy a peaceful retirement.’”

She raised her head from her empty palm and looked at me.

“At that time, I saw the destination—as a martial artist and as a Mazon. The finish line of my life, with people cheering and lining up to congratulate me. I still see it. A path where I can walk without worry or thought. But you are setting me at the starting line again. I feel like I’m standing at the starting point once more.”

I calmly met her gaze.

“Passing that finish line may bring comfort and joy, but only for about a month. After that, it will be boring and dull. You’ll regret not doing more when you were younger. Isn’t it too empty to end like that? All kinds of worries and regrets will torment you.”

A faint smile touched Ilhwa Sword Lord’s lips.

“You say that though you’ve never even been there?”

“I have a rich imagination.”

Saujong caught her weakness, became obsessed with power he didn’t belong to. She was too precious to live such a life.

Ilhwa Sword Lord extended her hand. Ilhwa Sword, stuck in the ground, was drawn out and flew into her grasp. Holding the sword, she declared,

“I’m back at the starting line. Until the moment I die, I won’t lay down this sword.”

I could feel that the woman before me was different from the Ilhwa Sword Lord before regression. Meeting different people, having different companions—this is how life can change.

“Why have you come today?”

“Saujong was killed by the Spirit Mazon.”

Ilhwa Sword Lord flinched at the unexpected answer.

“What happened?”

I told her exactly what happened, leaving out the details about Hwanyeo. Thus, it became a crime of passion.

“Saujong threatened and insulted a Mazon, so he deserved to die. But since a Mazon’s sword killed a martial artist, it may harm your or the Northern Sword Family’s reputation.”

After a moment of thought, she asked me,

“How do you want to handle this?”

“For the Spirit Mazon’s sake, I hope you yield this time. She’s currently establishing her position within Seohwanjin. If this becomes public, her status will shrink.”

Ilhwa Sword Lord accepted my request.

“Handle it quietly.”

“Thank you.”

“But tell me where you buried him. He was once my aide, so at least pour a drink for him on the way.”

After speaking, she resumed swinging her sword.

I bowed politely and left.

Just before leaving her residence, I glanced back.

She was looking up at the sky, sword lowered, her expression strangely conflicted. I didn’t want to know what her relationship with Saujong was or what his weakness had been.

I only hoped this incident would be a turning point in her life, enough to change even her swordsmanship.

When I left the Northern Sword Family, Seodaeryong was waiting.

“The garden watchers sent word. The plants that used to come every day haven’t come yesterday or today.”

This could mean only one thing.

“She’s trying to leave.”

We cannot let her go. We must hold her somehow. Pungcheon’s Sect Leader might not be able to break the spirit control, and she might be needed to do so. We also needed her to find out where Hwanwang was.

“What will you do?”

Walking toward the main gate, I answered,

“What else? Stop her. Send executioners to me as soon as possible.”

Hwanyeo was preparing to leave the garden.

She received news of Saujong’s death. That meant the yin-yang reversal technique had succeeded. She would retreat for now and come back a year later to check on her.

Ordinary martial artists can succeed in spirit control in one strike and turn their target into a puppet, but the Spirit Mazon cannot be controlled instantly. The red spirit planted in her mind must grow and settle. The process is like sowing seeds and growing flowers. When the bud blooms fully, the Spirit Mazon can be completely controlled.

At that moment, martial artists burst in, and among them was one person.

Hwanyeo was startled. Geom Mugeuk had entered, accompanied not only by guards but also executioners from Hwangcheongak.

“Another rare visitor.”

“I thought you recognized me immediately that day. Though we had never met, how did you know?”

“Who in Maga Village doesn’t know the Little Pill Master? It’s an honor to meet you again.”

While scheming here, the most rumors she had heard lately were about Geom Mugeuk. Most were unbelievable, but she knew they were true. So she had to be very careful dealing with him.

Therefore, Hwanyeo suspected Geom Mugeuk’s visit. Once could be coincidence, but twice?

“Did he catch on to something?”

Otherwise, the Little Pill Master wouldn’t have come personally.

Still, she wasn’t worried. There were many ways to escape. She could have just used spirit control to make the guards draw swords and kill the Little Pill Master, then slipped away in the chaos.

“My subordinate really liked the flower you bought that day.”

“There is nothing better than flowers as a gift for a beautiful woman.”

If this was the only reason for visiting, she would have surely suspected the Little Pill Master. But Geom Mugeuk asked directly,

“Let me ask one thing.”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you know the martial artist who has come here frequently lately?”

Hwanyeo was inwardly surprised at Saujong’s mention but showed no emotion.

“Of course. He always came to look at the flowers and trees before leaving.”

“His name was Saujong.”

“He never told me his name.”

“He died recently.”

“Oh no! How did it happen?”

Hwanyeo feigned sorrow so well it looked like she had grown fond of the frequent visitor.

“The main sect is investigating his death. That’s why I came.”

“I see.”

Hwanyeo bowed her head, revealing fear.

“But you seem to be investigating personally, so he must have been important.”

“His death is related to the Mazon at the main sect.”

Her expression turned to one of puzzlement.

“Did he notice the Spirit Mazon’s affairs?”

No. If so, they would have come to capture her with Mazons, not just visit.

“She still doesn’t know about me.”

Geom Mugeuk’s attitude toward her was still just suspicious.

“Don’t leave the garden for now.”

“I have nowhere else to go.”

“But why didn’t the usual plants come today?”

Geom Mugeuk deliberately revealed the garden was under surveillance.

“I’ve been sick and took a few days off.”

He gave her a suspicious look.

This way, she wouldn’t feel overly suspicious.

No matter how naturally she acted for other reasons, she would find this suspicious. Better to tell her we’re watching her, so don’t leave! This was likely to keep her in place. Then Geom Mugeuk added one more warning.

“If you run away in fear, you’ll be publicly listed as an enemy by the main sect, and your face will be known across the Central Plains. There will be nowhere to hide.”

Geom Mugeuk knew her weakness exactly. They operated in secret, so exposure was the greatest risk. Having one’s face plastered all over the ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ Central Plains? Not something she would want.

Hwanyeo’s heart grew heavy.

“Damn it.”

Revealing herself was the last thing she could allow.

Geom Mugeuk approached the flowers Ian had bought and smelled them.

“When my subordinates reported the garden suspicious, do you know what I said?”

“What?”

“There is no evil among those who love flowers.”

Geom Mugeuk left the garden with those he brought.

Hwanyeo silently watched their backs.

“Ah! How long has it been since I came to the main branch?”

Entering the main branch, Pungcheon’s Sect Leader took a deep breath. It was the Demon Sect’s main branch, not Pungcheon’s, but it felt like coming home.

The two entered the inner courtyard and headed straight to Geom Mugeuk’s residence—the large and nice one since he became Little Pill Master, not his old place.

“Your residence got grander after becoming Little Pill Master?”

Pungcheon’s Sect Leader examined the place, which Geom Mugeuk hadn’t cared about before.

“Power really is something.”

“If you’re jealous, go back to the Outer Garden. The leader’s residence is at least ten times bigger.”

“Who said I’m jealous? Just saying.”

He looked around from the window.

“Where’s Lee Gongja? We’re here. Shouldn’t he be waiting since we called? Don’t tell me you forgot? Oh right, I called him. The matter’s settled. Since you’re here, take a few days off, then move on. I’m busy.”

He had imitated Geom Mugeuk so much he did it better than anyone.

“He might have turned from a bearable Lee Gongja to a vicious Little Pill Master.”

Then a familiar voice came from behind.

“You always insult me when I’m not around.”

Pungcheon’s Sect Leader smiled without turning around. Yes, that was the voice he had missed so much.

He turned to see Geom Mugeuk standing as always, unchanged.

“You’re still the bearable Little Pill Master. Still a bit away from vicious.”

“That remains to be seen.”

Though he wanted to see him, Pungcheon’s Sect Leader teased spitefully.

“Thank you for your hard work, leader.”

He looked at Gowol standing next to Geom Mugeuk.

“If you’re thanking me, thank this one.”

Geom Mugeuk looked at Gowol.

“Well done.”

Gowol smiled.

“It’s the least I can do.”

Pungcheon’s Sect Leader interrupted to praise Gowol.

“No one works that hard on their own. Little Pill Master, buy some military tonic for him. He’s worked hard.”

Gowol waved off the praise with a glance.

“I’ll buy him the best tonic.”

“Make sure you buy me some too.”

Geom Mugeuk laughed loudly.

“Don’t just laugh; buy it. Don’t make people feel neglected. Now, what help do you need to summon me?”

“The Spirit Mazon matter.”

The former Spirit Mazon died, and Cheongseon received the spirit control technique from Pungcheon’s Sect Leader. Upon hearing it concerned her, the leader’s expression turned serious.

“Why her?”

Geom Mugeuk gave the conclusion.

“Unknown people cast spirit control on the Spirit Mazon.”

The moment those words left his mouth, Pungcheon’s Sect Leader’s spirit changed.

Whoooooosh!

His spirit awakened primal fear.

Dark clouds gathered, and the surroundings darkened, as if a typhoon was about to strike. A chilling wind carried the sound of bells.

With each toll, gates opened in the ground, releasing various shadowy beasts. It was as if hell’s gates were opening one after another.

The swiftly emerging creatures charged without hesitation. Of course, they were illusions shaped from spirit energy, not real monsters.

Hundreds of beasts charged at Geom Mugeuk.

Their chilling presence sapped fighting spirit and mental strength. The Heavenly Demon Protective Skill activated instinctively.

If someone’s internal power or will was weak, this spirit alone would drive them mad, wildly swinging their sword.

This was the angriest I had ever seen Pungcheon’s Sect Leader.

He was no longer joking or teasing but returned to his true self. The supreme ruler of the Outer Garden martial world, who had mastered the Heavenly Demon Great Martial Energy.

His eyes glowed blue with a fierce light as Pungcheon’s Sect Leader spoke coldly,

“How dare you touch my disciple?”