For a long while, no words followed Gong Wol-ah’s declaration. Yise quietly studied her expression. Her face seemed set with resolve, yet she was barely keeping herself from crumbling inside.

A shortage of forces was no excuse. Even if it meant abandoning a vital spirit-stone mine, they should have dispatched at least one of the Eleven Inner Halls—no, the Ten Inner Halls now. That was the least they owed the Dokkaebi, who had given their all for the alliance.

“They will regret this.”

Yise listened closely, as if in agreement.

“Those who have no idea how much effort it took for Dokkaebi to join hands with humans, how much blood was shed, how much was sacrificed. Those who knew, yet pretended not to. Never again will we offer our hands to such people.”

He had been told that Dokkaebi had once been treated no differently from Demons. But three hundred years ago, through the efforts of Mongryeon and many other Cultivators, the two peoples had come to understand each other and stand together as allies. Now that three-hundred-year alliance was crumbling.

“But you are different, Yise.”

Gong Wol-ah’s voice and manner of speaking gradually changed.

“Born of humans, yet raised by Dokkaebi. The only one who came without hesitation to risk his life for us. A human who knows our culture and possesses our cultivation methods. And the sole hope of restoring the Head of our people.”

At first, she had simply sounded like an approachable senior. Now the dignity of a Head speaking for the Dokkaebi was beginning to show.

“Henceforth, humans shall communicate with the Dokkaebi through you alone. You shall remain the only bridge by which relations between our peoples may be restored.”

Her words rang like a proclamation.

Having said her piece, Gong Wol-ah returned to her usual tone.

“If you ever choose to leave Daemudo, we’ll take you in. Among all humans, that privilege is yours alone.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I have no intention of leaving until I gain the power to bring my master back.”

Yise held his master’s golden core tightly against his chest. All that remained of it now was an orb containing her soul.

Gong Wol-ah gave a faint sigh, then added,

“Yise.”

“Yes, Senior.”

“Master your emotions.”

“...”

The advice seemed so out of place at that moment that Yise was briefly taken aback.

“Your center. They say it is something a Cultivator must preserve throughout their practice. Don’t let grief for your master or the desire for revenge rob you of it. Better to keep living as you have until now, even if you must force yourself. Only then can you achieve your goal.”

“... Yes. I’ll remember that.”

Her advice was in keeping with his master’s teachings. Yise took slow, deep breaths, calming the inner demon within his heart. Gong Wol-ah simply watched him with tender concern.

The fighting continues across the sprawling battlefield. Fierce, bloody clashes rage everywhere. Viewed from above, it resembles vast masses of oil and water desperately pushing each other back.

Wars between Cultivators do not last long. A handful of crucial battles determine victory or defeat. In particular, there are always fights in which neither side can afford to yield. Chief among these are the battlefields of the great Nascent Soul Cultivators, the strongest fighters of their respective factions.

Hae Il, the newly appointed Lord of Daemudo, is facing some fifty great Cultivators alone. Their forces have been reduced by nearly half. Yet their momentum and morale have suffered even greater losses.

An immense wall.

That was what the Jeong Empire’s great Cultivators felt as they fought Hae Il.

He seems about to fall, again and again, yet never does, cutting down the enemies before him with a single sword. His primordial energy is savage beyond measure; those touched by his blade have their golden cores cleaved apart.

At some point, he ceased to feel the presence and divine sense of Sugyeom, who had been guarding his back. Yet Hae Il does not stop. He merely raises his sword higher and swings it harder.

For Daemudo’s victory.

At the Bukaro border, on the foremost line defending Daemudo’s territory, a bloody battle was raging. White Tiger Hall’s flag, all but tattered to shreds, stood planted above the final formation.

Hall Master Asan no longer looked human. Her robes hung in tatters, and her entire body, cut open and regenerated time after time, was drenched in blood. Wounds she had been unable to regenerate fully in combat were crudely stitched together, leaving her a grotesque figure like a roughly patched doll. Even her eyes were veiled in crimson. A blood fiend—that was a fitting description of her state.

This was the fiercest battlefield, where the greatest number of the Jeong Empire’s Cultivators converged. The moment the defenders gave ground, the national border would literally shift. Asan stepped over the bodies of her own hall members and charged into the enemy’s midst, the battered survivors following behind her.

One against a hundred.

True to Daemudo’s cultivation methods, which guaranteed victory against opponents of the same realm, they held on despite their inferior numbers. Even on this hopeless battlefield, no one retreated. If they yielded so much as a step, the hordes of Jeong Empire Cultivators beyond them would sweep straight through to the main mountain.

At Mines One and Three, defended by Winged Dragon Hall and Earth Guardian Hall, the desperate fighting continued by luring enemies inside the barriers, trapping them, and cutting them down. They too were outnumbered, but at least they were defending fortified positions. Mountains of corpses were piling up at the mine entrances, where defensive formations had been deployed.

Battles were also being fought near the main mountain. Yellow Dragon Hall, Vermilion Bird Hall, and Soaring Serpent Hall were drawing approaching invaders deep into the mountains and cutting them off. Across the Three Kingdoms of the Peninsula, desperate struggles raged without cease.

But some had abandoned their duties.

The Spirit Treasure Pavilion on Daemudo’s main mountain.

Phoenix Hall, which should have been defending Aro Mine, Mine Two, had instead remained on the main mountain and was advancing on the pavilion.

It was the innermost repository of Daemudo’s spirit stones and treasures. Phoenix Hall Master So Hongji and the hall members under that command extinguished the flame in Daemudo’s divine relic, the Heavenly Pillar Brazier, then plundered the resources the main mountain had amassed over centuries and escaped.

The staff guarding the pavilion did everything in their power to stop them, but their opponents were a great Core Formation Cultivator and Foundation Establishment Cultivators. With every Yellow Dragon Hall member deployed to the battlefield, only Qi Refining Cultivators remained. They could not withstand even a single move.

And there was another Inner Hall that had abandoned its duty. Black Tortoise Hall, a gathering place for pureblood nobles, had encircled Azure Mountain Capital under Hall Master Seol Baek.

Kirin Hall Master Kang Itae stared at Seol Baek, too incredulous even to laugh.

“What do you think you’re doing, Seol Baek?”

He had been preparing for battle, certain that the Jeong Empire would target the vital stronghold of Azure Mountain. He had not expected to first encounter Black Tortoise Hall, which should have been protecting noble families and key outer affiliates’ outposts throughout the land. Much less in such a menacing manner.

Kang Itae cast a reproachful look at the members of his own Jinju Kang family. Unable to meet his eyes, they looked away.

“Kirin Hall Master. I made my position clear to the Chief Administrator. I would not obey his orders.”

“Are you saying you’ll betray Daemudo?”

Seol Baek shook his head with a smile.

“Well, it would be more accurate to say we’re taking a different path.”

“Sophistry. You’re nothing but an opportunist and a filthy traitor.”

“Daemudo’s beliefs are wrong. Conviction without power is nothing but an illusion. Doesn’t this very moment prove that, Hall Master Kang Itae? Come, join us instead. Surely blood kin need not shed each other’s blood.”

Kang Itae did not answer Seol Baek. Instead, he turned to the man standing beside him: his younger cousin, Kang Ihyeon.

“Kang Ihyeon.”

“Yes, Cousin.”

“Is this your choice? To follow a traitor who has betrayed his sect?”

“Who can say? If you hadn’t let my son be reduced to an ordinary man... If you hadn’t let him die... Things might have been different.”

“That was solely your fault for failing to raise your child properly.”

“No. In the end, you only trail after Lord Hae Il, not our family. I have simply chosen my family over the sect.”

How laughable. Had the Jinju Kang family prospered through their own excellence? Their prosperity was the fruit of the support, protection, and efforts of Daemudo’s founders, including Hae Il and himself.

But saying anything more would only waste his breath. All his words would earn from people whose hearts were already stained by desire was ridicule.

He needed only to decide. Fight back, or protect his disciples? The answer was simple. His duty was to defend Azure Mountain Capital, but in principle, protecting Kirin Hall’s members and the novice disciples mattered more than the city itself. The value of this place lay in its people, not its location.

In a direct clash between their halls, he could easily subdue them. But that sly old monster would not have gambled on an uncertain outcome. Another force was on its way here.

Kang Itae reached his decision.

“U Jeol.”

“Yes, Hall Master.”

“We’re breaking through the encirclement. Take the novice disciples to the main mountain. Each hall member is to look after one novice.”

“Understood.”

Kang Itae continued issuing orders, seemingly unconcerned whether the enemy heard.

“They won’t dare kill us anyway. If they allow for the possibility that Daemudo will still stand after this war, they know there are lines they must not cross. They’ll merely try to take hostages. Flee at full speed, and you can break through. Have no fear. Have no doubts. I will open the way.”

Kang Itae gripped the hilt of his sword and stepped forward.

“I will attack with the intent to kill every last one of you. What about you? Are you prepared to kill me?”

An immense spiritual pressure began bearing down on Black Tortoise Hall’s members and the pureblood nobles.

“No. Are you even capable of it?”

Though Seol Baek was also at Core Formation, there were still differences in strength within a major realm. If Kang Itae attacked with the resolve to take them down with him, at least half those present would need graves prepared. Such a victory would be no victory at all.

Seol Baek met Kang Itae’s gaze for a long while before giving a short sigh and raising his hand.

“... Let them through.”

As though they had been waiting for the order, the noble-family Cultivators loosened their formation. It had never been a fight they welcomed. At least a tenth of Black Tortoise Hall and Kirin Hall were related by blood. Ultimately, most of them were connected by ties great or small. Slaughter between them would be a kind of fratricide.

Seol Baek turned back to Kang Itae.

“Do not forget, Kang Itae. Countless ties bind us to Daemudo. If we go to war with one another, we will only inflict wounds on each other that can never heal.”

The corner of Kang Itae’s mouth twisted slightly.

“Stay well, Seol Baek. Don’t get hurt or die.”

“... Well wishes? How unlike you.”

“I’ll be coming to take your head myself.”

With only those words, Kang Itae walked slowly out. Kirin Hall’s members and the novice disciples followed him.

As soon as he descended Azure Mountain, Kang Itae took a bundle of message talismans from his robes. He had received dozens that day alone. Most carried desperate reports. In his judgment, three battlefields required the most urgent attention.

Mist Forest, where Lord Hae Il and Chief Administrator Sugyeom faced the Jeong Empire’s main strength.

The front line at Bukaro, where Hall Master Asan and White Tiger Hall were holding back the enemy.

And Gwisu Temple, which had come under a surprise attack by the Iron Sun Thunder Sect.

Kang Itae made a swift decision. He had no doubts about Lord Hae Il. No matter the circumstances, he would prevail.

Regrettably, Gwisu Temple had to come later. Gong Wol-ah, Spirit Turtle Hall, and Mongryeon were there. Although their overall strength was inferior, the situation was not impossible to overcome.

Bukaro had to come first. If he left White Tiger Hall to weather that rain of arrows alone, they would surely be annihilated.

Kang Itae called for U Jeol.

“U Jeol.”

“Yes.”

“See the novice disciples safely to the main mountain. The rest of us are going to Bukaro. We must rescue White Tiger Hall.”

“Yes, Hall Master.”

Kirin Hall’s members moved in perfect order.

After parting with Gong Wol-ah, Yise headed straight for Daejeong Mine. He was joining the fight late, but having decided to remain in Daemudo, he intended to lend his strength to his fellow hall members’ battle.

But by the time he arrived, the battle at Daejeong Mine was already over. The heavy stench of blood assailed his nose, while a ghastly array of corpses piled mountain-high at the barrier entrance met his eyes.

Hall Master U Yuhee sat atop that mountain of bodies, her expression serene. Her broken half-mask rested on top of her head, leaving her face bare as she stared into space.

She turned her gaze toward Yise.

“You’re back?”

It was a casual question, as though greeting a family member returning home after a day’s official duties.

U Yuhee stretched her arms out before her like a cat and rose to her feet. Her movement caught a corpse’s head, sending it tumbling down the mountain of bodies.