Is there a more provocative and rude question than asking the Poison King why he makes poison?

If our relationship wasn’t as good as it is now, such a question might have come out immediately.

“What kind of question is that to the Poison King?”

Or they might retort like this:

“Then why do you practice swordsmanship?”

Fortunately, the Poison King understood that my question wasn’t thrown out carelessly.

Instead of answering, he just quietly stared at me.

I slowly stepped forward between the display cabinets.

“There’s so much poison here.”

Even just the poisons in this corridor I was looking at were enormous in quantity.

These must be poisons handed down through generations in Cheondok Forest, but the Poison King surely collected many as well. And just now, many new poisons were made too.

“Why do you make poison with such passion as before?”

This question was both fundamental and deeply personal. He could answer as a master of poisons, or give a personal reason. Depending on how it was taken, the answer could differ.

Turning to the Poison King, I added:

“You’ve devoted your whole life to poison. What does poison mean to you?”

For a moment, I saw a small passion flash in the Poison King’s eyes—something I hadn’t seen before.

He must have heard countless times that he was strong, and that he was terrifying.

But had anyone ever said he devoted himself to poison?

Was that a burden? His gaze turned toward the poisons opposite me.

A moment of silence passed.

Still, the Poison King did not answer why he makes poison.

I asked a new question, also the first of its kind since meeting him.

“Or do you someday want to dye the world red with blood from poison?”

That was his life before regression.

This time, the answer came quickly. Without turning around, the Poison King replied—

“If that must be.”

I felt relief rather than worry. I thought such an answer was far from a bloodbath. People who commit suicide are those who were smiling yesterday, not crying.

Do I worry that he might do such a thing again? Not at all. I know better than anyone how even the same person can change depending on circumstances, environment, and people around.

The Poison King before regression and now are completely different people. Or rather, the same person living different lives.

Just like me now.

“Perhaps I asked a needless question. Please forgive my rudeness.”

The Poison King, who had been staring blankly at the poison bottles, slowly shook his head.

“I’ve never been asked such a question before.”

After all, who would dare ask the Poison King why he makes poison?

And it wasn’t my question that he couldn’t answer.

“I’ve never seriously thought about it.”

If it had been my younger self, I wouldn’t have believed that. I would have thought it was just a pretentious claim.

But now I know: the higher you reach, the less you think about such things.

“You must have. You just don’t remember now.”

“Yes, I must have. But that ‘when’ I don’t recall.”

“Living life pushed by the current is something even the Poison King can’t avoid.”

I said jokingly, but the Poison King still wore a serious expression.

He stepped forward and took the bottle containing today’s Mansajeoldok from the display. His gaze on it seemed to ask silently:

—Why did I make this? Why did I persist through so many failures without giving up?

Before he sank deeper into his own world, I answered for him.

“To protect the sect.”

That was clearly a wrong answer for the Poison King.

“The Master is here; why would I protect?”

Now was the time to properly explain why I came.

“Whether orthodox or heretic factions, they fear you more than Father.”

The root of that fear was this—

The fear of dying without properly fighting.

No matter who the opponent is, dying while fighting wouldn’t feel unfair. But a fight with the Poison King ends the moment you breathe wrong or sip the wrong water.

The Poison King’s greatest deterrent may not come from fear of mass destruction, but from the fear of a pointless death.

“There’s a reason I asked that earlier question.”

I told him exactly what had happened after I returned. Even that I worried Father might be dreaming of unifying the martial world.

After hearing all that, the Poison King’s expression didn’t change at all. He must have known why I was brought here and why I visited Cheondok Forest today.

“Even if everyone opposes the Master’s dream, aren’t you supposed to support it?”

“You didn’t just give me good looks, you gave me stubbornness too.”

“Are you going to block the Master’s path?”

I felt sorry for Father, but I silently nodded and began persuading the Poison King.

“I want these poisons to remain here forever.”

“Do you want to make me useless?”

“Quite the opposite.”

“The opposite?”

I slowly touched a poison bottle in front of me. The label read “Flame Soul Death-Defying Poison” (염백절명독). Even a few drops would spread like fire and kill all life nearby.

“As long as these poisons remain here, the fear and dignity of the Poison King will persist. The moment the Poison King unleashes poison on the martial world, fear will turn to rage. Dignity will be covered by resentment.”

The Poison King said nothing.

“The essence of poison skills is not poisoning but antidote.”

I had told him that before. He also taught this to his successor, so he surely held this belief.

“When you purified the poison of the Poison Deceiver and saved everyone, you were so impressive.”

I couldn’t tell what he was thinking then, but I spoke my truth.

“Please live as the Poison King who heals with my poison skills, not the one who poisons with Father’s.”

Because I sensed I had lost to Father, who silently helped with poison today, I said all I wanted.

“A rude request, I apologize.”

I bowed politely. It was a demand without fully knowing his heart.

Then, the Poison King, who had been silent, suddenly said—

“You are thinking wrong about one thing.”

That one thing was something I never expected.

“Do you think the Master wants to unify the martial world by using me?”

“Don’t you?”

“Four years and seven months ago, when the Master and I went to gather poisonous herbs, the Master told me this.”

The surprising truth was revealed.

The Poison King conveyed exactly what Father said that day.

“I won’t unify the martial world through poison. My martial world does not need poison skills.”

I was shocked. I never imagined Father said that. I knew Father disliked poison skills, but never that he said so directly to the Poison King.

“Were you disappointed?”

“I was. But I wasn’t upset. It was much better than someone pretending not to dislike poison skills while secretly disliking them.”

That was Father’s way of treating the Master.

Those two made poison together silently today.

Perhaps only the two of them understand each other.

The Poison King repeated Father’s last words from that day.

“To me, you are not someone who conquers the martial world, but someone who protects the sect. Even if my unification fails, the sect will not fall because of you.”

That was Father’s position for the Poison King, the final bulwark.

“On that day, I promised to follow the Master’s will.”

Only now could I understand the Poison King’s end before regression.

When the Master War swept through and Father died, the Eight Demon Lords gave up revenge.

Until now, I thought it was because they were overwhelmed by Hwamu-gi’s overwhelming power. I thought they chose life over death. So I considered it betrayal and understood it as a lost fight.

But today, for the first time, I thought otherwise. Maybe another situation unknown to me unfolded that day. One where everyone had to give up revenge.

Because the Poison King wouldn’t have just stood still. But he didn’t seek revenge and later met a tragic end.

We must have thought of the same person, because the Poison King broke the silence.

“I love poison.”

It was the answer to my earlier question. That simple answer took him so long to say. It wasn’t that he forgot it.

Had he truly forgotten, or was he just habitually making poison now?

He must have not answered because he was still searching for answers to many questions.

“Of course I love poison.”

When I spoke as if I already knew the answer, the Poison King looked at me.

“No one who doesn’t love poison would crouch for hours watching poisonous insects crawl. No one like that would name the poisonous snakes. The Poison King truly loves poison. Please show me what lies at the end of that love and dedication. Please tell me.”

For the Poison King, these words were probably unheard by anyone. Not the Poison King, nor Father, nor regressed me. No, even the old man who sent me back would need to hear this — words everyone must hear in their life. I was saying that to the Poison King now.

The Poison King smiled at me. His eyes were full of joy and gratitude toward me.

“I can’t miss this good mood. So, Poison King, are you on Father’s side? Or mine?”

The answer came quickly. As he walked out of the warehouse, he calmly said—

“I am no one’s side.”

The one who gave the clear answer was Ilhwa Sword Lord.

“I will follow the Master’s will.”

Without even pretending to hesitate, she made her decision.

After training swordsmanship in the training ground and hearing the situation, she said those words while delivering her final technique.

After her training, she gulped down water left at the edge of the training ground.

She had changed since I last saw her. She no longer wore makeup, and now her hair was white.

“This is my natural hair color.”

The red camellia engraved on her sword sheath contrasted with her hair beautifully.

“Lord Sword Ilhwa is getting cooler and cooler!”

“As expected! I knew you’d say that.”

But was it just her appearance that changed? The martial arts rank she had gained felt like it was advancing toward another level.

“Thanks for the compliment, but still I will follow the Master’s will.”

I expected this. Her respect for Father was second to none.

What if I fail to persuade her?

The remaining Demon Lords were Seophon and Mabul. If young Seophon sided with me, and Mabul sided with Father, then half would follow Father already. Since the Poison King claimed neutrality, even if Blood Sky Demon sided with me, it would be four to three.

“That’s too much! Have you forgotten? I’m Lord Sword’s sparring partner.”

Ilhwa Sword Lord smiled apologetically.

“You and I have gotten close, haven’t we?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how thankful I am to you?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t. I’m going to tell you how thankful I am. But I have to say this.”

Ilhwa Sword Lord expressed her honest feelings about this matter. Words I never expected from her.

“I worry the Master might start a war.”

We were friends, but her conviction was a separate matter.

“If the Master, I believe, can achieve the great feat of unifying the martial world. As you know, the Master is truly outstanding. The sect’s hopes are at stake, and if this chance is missed, future generations will regret it forever.”

Maybe the greatest part of why she trains so hard is to someday realize the dream of uniting the martial world with Father.

“Perhaps having a son like you is a trial for the Master. Great deeds always come with trials. That fate applies.”

Her words could have hurt me, but she looked at me calmly and continued. She was honest without deceiving me, and that was her way of apologizing.

“Please overcome the trial that is you, Master. I sincerely hope you will accomplish the great work.”

Ilhwa Sword Lord asked gently,

“If you’re upset, I apologize.”

I smiled back.

“No, thank you for your honesty.”

“Thanks for thinking that way.”

“Next time I visit, I’ll come as your sparring partner.”

I bowed respectfully and turned to leave.

Then, unexpectedly, Ilhwa Sword Lord said—

“Don’t be too disappointed. From what I see, you’re winning this battle.”

Puzzled, I turned back to her.

But she drew her sword and resumed training.

“So, I am absolutely on the Master’s side.”