#125. The Black Flame Dragon Grants an Opportunity (5)
Seeing the space where heaven and earth were all white, Eunseollan let out a small sigh.
A deadly formation that drove people mad with emptiness until they died—they'd said. She never imagined she'd experience it firsthand.
"How... did it come to this?"
Her sect, nestled in the North Sea, had no need for qimen dunjia formations. And once her mandatory service ended, she had no plans to wander the jianghu anymore. There was no reason for her to get trapped in one. Yet she'd volunteered for this event out of a faint hope that, as someone adrift in the martial world with nowhere to lean on, she might gain something—anything—from it.
"I shouldn't have come in here."
If she traced the indirect cause, it was Hong Saryeon, who'd entered with her. The direct cause? The floral scent wafting from Saryeon's body had distracted her, making her step back in surprise at her own unaccustomed sweat smell in this scentless void. And just like that, the people ahead and behind her had vanished without a trace.
"Haa..."
Originally, things hadn't been awkward between her and Saryeon. Eunseollan's sect, the Bingbaek Palace, was at the very bottom of the 108 Peaks, just like Tae-eul Gate. In the past, there had been the legendary master known as the Lesser Frost Maiden, whose signature technique, the Lesser Frost Divine Art, had been passed down through generations. But since her time, no one had mastered it beyond the fourth layer.
That master's lingering prestige had weakened the sect, and now it was mocked with lines like, "They live in Bingbaek Cave instead of Bingbaek Palace."
Perhaps that's why she and Saryeon had bonded quickly, sharing a sense of kindred hardship.
But it's changed too much.
The rift between them—more precisely, when Eunseollan began distancing herself from Saryeon—started the moment the name of her senior brother, the Black Flame Dragon, began echoing through the jianghu.
Rescuing thousands at the Ma-ryeong Plateau. Earning the Wind and White Tyrant Sword's recognition at the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament. Storming through the rankings like a tempest. During all that, Eunseollan felt herself growing distant from Saryeon.
The academy students who'd once ignored both of them now turned their eyes to Saryeon. To disciples of the 108 Peaks, the Black Flame Dragon was an object of admiration.
She admired him too. But he was Saryeon's reliable senior brother. And Eunseollan had no such figure in her life. That reality pushed her away from Saryeon.
"Fools do foolish things to themselves."
Even as the Black Flame Dragon and Tae-eul Gate's names filled people's mouths, Hong Saryeon remained the same. If anything, she'd even offered to introduce Eunseollan to him, saying he'd heard her stories and wanted to meet.
But to Eunseollan, blinded by twisted inferiority, it rang false. Why would a prodigy shaking the martial world want to meet her? It was just Saryeon's kindness.
"Hoo."
And all that pent-up resentment had led to this desperate situation. No one to blame.
"Am I really going to die like this...?"
Eunseollan sighed, slipping her hand into her empty pouch of Wall-Grain Pills.
When they'd first entered the Muryangbulgolmokhonjin, the one day's supply of pills and water had seemed odd. Without them, she'd have starved long ago. Now even those were gone, and she couldn't recall how long it'd been since her last bite.
"Haha... haha."
Death's approach brought an awkward laugh. But it faded quickly, swallowed by the silence and void.
The perfect stillness she'd never known in her life was enough to instill a primal fear.
Hummm.
Circulating the Lesser Frost Divine Art, white mist rose from her hands. Pressing them to her cheeks, she finally felt alive.
In the end, I couldn't uncover the secrets of the Lesser Frost Divine Art.
She hadn't expected to solve a mystery unbroken for centuries. Still, the regret lingered—not attempting it at all, dying without meeting ice and fire experts during her Alliance service.
To feel life one last time before death, she kept channeling the art. Her meager inner energy depleted fast; the chill weakened. With her dantian empty, strength fled her body.
Desperate for any sensation of life, she squeezed her empty dantian dry, clinging to existence.
Crackkkle.
Startled by the sound from her hand, she pulled it from her cheek.
"What... is this...?"
Instead of mist, frost formed on her palm.
"......"
Stopping the art, she cupped her hands, melting the ice into a sip of water.
"Ah... ah..."
Recalling the sensation, she channeled again.
Crackkkle.
Frost shaped like her palm appeared. Without even wetting her parched lips, tears streamed down her face.
No one had properly mastered the Lesser Frost Divine Art since the Maiden's death without heirs. After four hundred years, Eunseollan, dying in the Muryangbulgolmokhonjin, had unlocked its secret.
"Hic... hic..."
How happy would Bingbaek Palace be? Her parents, leading the sect—how they'd rejoice.
Yet she lamented her fate, dying here without passing it on.
"Damn it... sob, sob, you rotten world!"
Eunseollan spat curses she'd never uttered before. Ice crystals scattered from her palm, vanishing into the void.
"Better if the insight never came... sob."
Unable to share the secret hurt more than death itself.
As she raged against the world's unfairness,
"Shouldn't you be happy about the insight?"
"!!!!"
The sudden voice widened her eyes like a rabbit's. Whipping her head around, she saw a man in all black—clothes and sword—tilting his head in confusion.
"Bl-Black Flame Dragon... h-hero?"
"You're Eunseollan, right?"
"Y-you know me?"
Her heart pounded wildly at her name from his lips.
"Heard a lot from Saryeon. But did I interrupt something important?"
The Black Flame Dragon eyed the ice crystals in her grasp.
"N-no. I'd already grasped it and sorted it out."
"Then shall we head out now?"
"O-out?"
The man looked like a black dot amid vast white paper. His words left her reeling.
"I get wanting more insight, but your condition worries me. Food and water all gone, right? Aren't you exhausted?"
"I-I want to go out! Out of here!"
The Black Flame Dragon smiled warmly, like a painting come alive.
"Then let's go."
As he strode past, Eunseollan hurried to follow, determined not to lose him.
"Ow."
Her exhausted body betrayed her.
"If it's okay, mind if I carry you? If you twist an ankle again, who knows when I'd find you."
Being carried by him? Something from books, not reality. Before flustered Eunseollan could reply, he hoisted her onto his back.
His back was broader, firmer, warmer than it looked.
"Hang on a bit. We'll be out soon."
"...B-but, hero..."
"Hero tickles a bit."
"Ah! S-sorry. Then what should I call you? Senior?"
"We're the same cohort. Senior's awkward. Since you're Saryeon's friend, how about oppa?"
"I-is that okay?"
Heat rose to her cheeks.
"Saryeon's friend is like my little sister. But why'd you call?"
Eunseollan forgot her original question. "My little sister" and "oppa" multiplied in her mind, halting thought.
"F-forgot."
"Okay, think of questions outside."
In the utter silence and void, Eunseollan felt no more loneliness, isolation, or despair.
#
"Thanks to you, we caught a breather."
Jegal Somyeong's words rounded Hyeok Mu-gang's eyes.
"Heh heh, Jin Sowoon really is something special."
"Even I was at a loss."
Jegal wore a complicated expression, but a smile lingered.
To Hyeok, it was shocking—Jegal expressing gratitude?
He was a giver, not a beggar.
"Never seen a budget report so perfectly justified."
His strict adherence to principles made the impossible possible.
"Anyway, thanks to the Alliance Lord's advance from the Mengju Hall, we breathed easy."
"The hall chief was foaming at the mouth. 'What about us?'"
As Hyeok grumbled lightly, Jegal nodded.
"I'll compile and return the budget ASAP. And next year, we should set aside reserves."
"Jin Sowoon's changing so much for the Chief Strategist."
Jegal nodded at the tease.
"No choice. Even without using it myself, linking it to the Ma-ryeong entities as a 'Demonic Cult' metaphor left no room to refuse."
"And unexpected effects already?"
"The Lesser Frost Divine Art's seal loosened a layer."
"Oho... splendid. Bingbaek Palace will rejoice."
After a pause, Jegal downed his tea and got to the point.
"Alliance Lord attending tomorrow's Muryangbulgolmokhonjin demo too?"
"Yes, curiosity got me. Wonder what it'll be like."
Jegal nodded, eyes flashing.
"Then I'll stick by your side as aide."
Hyeok's brow furrowed faintly.
"H-heard the Chief Strategist was too busy..."
"How could I not go if the Lord does?"
"Since when..."
"Does my presence discomfort the Lord?"
"N-not at all..."
"So easier to meet Jin Sowoon without me?"
"......"
Hyeok went mum like he'd eaten honey. Jegal raised a brow.
"I-I knew it! Pretending all meek like a cat eyeing the stove first!"
Hyeok bristled too. He'd fronted 30,000 nyang in emergency funds—was it unreasonable to want a private word with Jin Sowoon?
"Isn't that too much, Chief Strategist? I'm not stealing him..."
"People want to touch what they see, own what they touch. Absolutely not."
"...Ahem. Just a meet..."
Hyeok couldn't contain curiosity about the talent that enchanted even Jegal. He wouldn't back down easily this time.
"If you insist... I'll resign as Chief Strategist."
"What?! Suddenly?!"
"This old body's weary; ghostdom nears. Time to return home. I planned to groom Mantongbu and Simhyeongak successors before leaving, but your interference says you don't need me."
"Whoa..."
Jegal's absence would unleash factional wars, splintering the Alliance. He was indispensable.
"Fine, fine. I won't drag Jin Sowoon to Mengju Hall. No more grim talk."
"Your vast grace to this unworthy soul—how to repay?"
More moved than for the 30,000 nyang thanks, Jegal bowed. Hyeok just thought, Dirty and sly.
#
"Hoo..."
A sigh escaped. Why wouldn't they listen?
"Please wear this."
The maidservant offered silk robes as if it were natural.
"Why embroider nonsense again?"
The sleeve ends hid countless "top scholar" in pattern guise.
"High Alliance officials are coming today, no?"
"What's that got to do? It's not even formal."
After Eunseollan, of the third group into the Muryangbulgolmokhonjin, gained insight there—unlocking the Lesser Frost Divine Art's long-unsolved secret—the 100 spots thought impossible filled in a day.
And I built ties with the Lesser Frost Jade Maiden.
Biggest win: rapport with her. The Maiden who turned Bingbaek Palace into North Sea Ice Palace, making it impregnable even to the Demonic Cult.
Saryeon's close, so maybe lure her to Baekrang-gak later.
Tough, but worth trying.
Anyway, the stunt spiked Alliance interest in the formation. The academy summoned elders and division heads for a demo.
"With VIPs, Young Master must shine. Miss this, and future prospects dim."
"No interest in advancement. If I were, I wouldn't feud with the Nine Great Sects or Five Families."
"Exactly—so shine brighter. Appearance sways people more than you think. Show kingly poise, and more will follow you, inspired."
Mid-talk, something felt off. Always at the academy as my maid, yet she knew student politics inside out?
"How do you know the ins and outs so well?"
"...I'm your aide. I must."
Her lips twitched like more lingered, then closed. I dropped it.
"Anyway, not wearing it."
"You must! Girls, lock the door!"
"...What's your real intent in dressing me like this?"
The maid sighed softly.
"My son loved martial arts since childhood. My husband and I work for the Alliance, so no objections. We let him test into famed sects, but all rejections."
Common tale. Top sects drew talent; even decent ones had endless competition.
"He joyed in dojo basics once. Then he seemed to accept his limits, despairing at the wall. We could do nothing."
Gaps from the start. Walls that crush new tries.
"Lately, he's training nonstop at the dojo, hopeful for the future... thanks to Young Master Jin."
"......"
"I sincerely wish your continued success. Be a role model for my boy. But you're so humble, my hopes falter. Fine, other robes."
"......"
Her weary face—rare for her. I examined the robe.
"Next time, make the letters more pattern-like."
"!"
The middle-aged maid beamed. Felt a bit had somehow.
"Not saying I'll wear it anytime. Just less obvious."
She nodded vigorously.
"Understood."
Thus, in the "top scholar" robes, I headed to the grand arena.
Nearby teemed academy students gawking at Alliance VIPs.
Pushing through, the six groups waiting post-theory—pre-Muryangbulgolmokhonjin entry—stood ready. Yet despite the demo, the mood was chaotic.
And too many for just spectators. Even Nine Great Sects, Five Families, and 12 Bongseong key figures—whom I'd thought wouldn't approach—gathered.
As I entered, Yu Ji-ryang's group, chatting with admin, rushed over.
"You're here."
"More people than expected. Murim Alliance Lord coming?"
"Yes."
"What?"
Yu brushed it off like nothing.
"Bigger issue."
"...Bigger than that?"
What could top meeting the elusive Lord?
"Nine Great Sects members... sneaked into the Muryangbulgolmokhonjin and haven't come out."
"...These crazy bastards."