Three shattered golden cores belonging to great Core Formation Cultivators lay scattered at U Yuhee’s feet. She had faced all three alone.

“What about Gwisu Temple?”

Yise could not speak. Merely recalling the devastated temple felt as though something were crushing him deep within his chest. The golden core nestled inside his robes weighed heavily against him.

A shadow fell over her beautiful face, which looked scarcely older than his own. For the first time, the great Core Formation Cultivator’s uncovered features took on a somber cast.

“You did well.”

As though she, too, could imagine how hard he had fought, she offered only those few words of praise.

“And the others...?”

Rather than answer, U Yuhee pointed beyond the barrier with her chin. Inside, the Winged Dragon Hall members were busy recovering bodies and sorting the storage pouches and resources they had taken as spoils.

Only then did Yise realize he had not collected a single storage pouch during the fighting. It was only natural that he had been in no state to gather spoils, but this was a first: he had forgotten the very concept of loot.

“You’re back.”

Gwak Chan greeted him while wiping away blood. His voice was as glib as ever, but bloodstains still lingered around his mouth.

“I’m late.”

“So what? It’s not like you were off having fun.”

That was the entirety of Gwak Chan’s greeting. His manner suggested there was nothing more to add.

Yise looked past his shoulder toward the mine entrance. Winged Dragon Hall members were bustling about, looking scarcely different from corpses themselves. Beyond them, not a single Jeong Empire Cultivator remained standing alive.

The battle here had ended in victory. A little over twenty Winged Dragon Hall members had died, while the enemy dead numbered more than ten times that. Counting those Hall Master U Yuhee had disposed of alone, there was no telling how many enemies had crawled in here.

“Your senior here killed eight of them, you know. As long as they don’t fight dirty and go for the crotch, this is what I can do. Huh?”

Yise thought it stranger that he would let someone hit him there simply because they aimed for it, but did not bother to say so. In fact, he had already heard that it was more accurate to say Gwak Chan had let the demonic beast tamer escape than that he had lost to him. It was a fresh reminder of Daemudo’s strength.

In the end, Daemudo won the all-out war against the Jeong Empire. Yet it was a victory that left nothing but wounds, scars so deep that it might never regain its former might.

Daemudo had lost Spirit Turtle Hall and its Dokkaebi allies, and countless Foundation Establishment Cultivators had perished. Two factors had upset what was expected to be a roughly even balance of power: the Iron Sun Thunder Sect’s entry into the war, and traitors within.

When war broke out, the majority of the pureblood Cultivator families, including Black Tortoise Hall and Phoenix Hall, had neutralized Daemudo’s divine relic, the Heavenly Pillar Brazier, and betrayed the sect. After plundering its treasury and fleeing, they seized Azure Mountain Capital in Tabaro and declared independence.

There had been no casualties in the process, but the loss of so many resources and the defection of so many Cultivators had sent Daemudo’s strength plummeting. It had lost control of Tabaro, the largest of the Three Kingdoms of the Peninsula, along with the spirit stone mine and Azure Mountain Capital.

Yet the greatest loss of all was this:

The death of Chief Administrator Sugyeom.

“The Chief Administrator...”

After returning to Daemudo and hearing the outcome of the war, Yise could find no further words.

The legacy disciples of the Inner Halls returned one by one, their numbers reduced by more than half, their bodies bearing all manner of wounds and the marks of ferocious combat.

The war had lasted less than a day. At what had effectively been its fiercest battlefield, Hae Il and the Chief Administrator had faced the Jeong Empire’s great Nascent Soul Cultivator and one hundred great Core Formation Cultivators. Hae Il had emerged victorious.

Even attacking with a full hundred Core Formation Cultivators led by a great Nascent Soul Cultivator, the Jeong Empire had ultimately failed to surmount the wall that was Hae Il. The great Nascent Soul Cultivator had fled after suffering immense damage, and only a third of the Core Formation Cultivators had survived to scatter. In the process, Chief Administrator Sugyeom had fallen in battle while covering Hae Il’s back.

“The Lord made the wrong call. A disastrous mistake.”

Irang summed it up in a single remark.

Hae Il had never been suited to leadership. Brave and headstrong, with a temperament that went beyond belligerent to downright fiery, he was better suited to being a vanguard commander—someone’s sharpest sword.

When the Winged Dragon Hall members glanced around as though needing an explanation, Deputy Master Irang elaborated.

“We should have narrowed the front before fighting. Lord Hae Il is effectively our main force. Even if the other fronts had been pushed back somewhat, if he had moved with several halls, the Chief Administrator wouldn’t have needed to follow him. Then we wouldn’t have left Gwisu Temple unattended, or let those vermin betray us.”

Spreading the front wide was exactly what the Jeong Empire wanted. When the side with fewer numbers defended a broad area, thin spots in its defenses were inevitable.

Even if it lost the larger war, the Jeong Empire would gain something, be it a major mine, an enormous grotto-heaven, or a reduction in enemy strength. Narrowing the front had therefore been essential, if only to avoid doing exactly what the enemy wanted.

Even so, it would still have been a difficult fight. Perhaps they had only won the larger war because Hall Master Hae Il had thrown himself into the fray, drawn the enemy’s attention, and fought that decisive battle against so many great Cultivators.

For all his impetuousness, Hae Il was no fool. He would have known better than anyone that they could not win unless he stepped forward and drew the enemy’s attention. It was a problem with an answer and, at the same time, no answer at all. That was what Irang added.

“Is Lord Hae Il all right?” Yise asked.

His unauthorized departure had been treated as though it had never happened. The main mountain had no room to concern itself with each individual legacy disciple.

“His injuries are healing quickly. But I hear he’s keeping to himself, perhaps because the shock was so great. It’s understandable. Chief Administrator Sugyeom was someone he personally selected and raised at his side. They went back a very long way.”

Irang let out her next words like a sigh.

“Still, he needs to fill the Chief Administrator’s vacancy soon. The main mountain is in utter chaos.”

Losing the Chief Administrator meant losing the central pillar that had overseen all of Daemudo’s great Cultivators and internal affairs. The legacy disciples of what were now the Seven Inner Halls needed reorganizing. The divine relic that maintained the disciples’ life registry had been lost, and a replacement measure was needed.

With Azure Mountain Capital, their inexhaustible source of wealth, taken from them, they also needed to decide how to raise future disciples. What to do about the exposed outer affiliates’ outposts was another matter of grave importance.

Problems demanding resolution were overflowing, yet the one person with the authority to decide remained trapped in shock.

“Still, the Hall Masters have gathered to discuss things, so let’s wait a little. Talking among ourselves won’t change anything.”

The seven remaining Hall Masters were reportedly holding an emergency meeting. Although their strength had diminished, those who remained were deeply loyal to Daemudo and staunch supporters of Hae Il. If anything, the bonds between the Inner Halls would grow stronger. Yise felt they had paid a steep price to cut away rotten flesh.

As they each sorted through their thoughts and tended to their wounded bodies, a message talisman arrived for Irang. After reading it, she nodded as though she had no objection.

“They’ve unanimously chosen a new Chief Administrator.”

“Who?”

“Kirin Hall Master Kang Itae.”

“Ah.”

Gwak Chan immediately accepted Irang’s answer. Yise, too, knew the man well: the head of the Azure Mountain Capital training compound, another of Hae Il’s trusted lieutenants, renowned for his fairness and unwavering adherence to principle.

Though the traitors’ unexpected actions had cost him Azure Mountain Capital during this war, he had led his people safely to the main mountain without a single death despite being outnumbered, and had even rescued White Tiger Hall from peril. There was no one better suited to restoring order to a chaotic Daemudo.

“I wouldn’t call it a changing of the guard... Maybe ruling from behind the curtain...? Or a restoration?”

When several members tilted their heads at Gwak Chan’s remark, Irang explained.

“Hall Master Kang Itae used to serve as Daemudo’s Chief Administrator. Until Chief Administrator Sugyeom was appointed.”

“I see.”

“I heard he was so sick of it when he stepped down that he swore he’d never do it again... He must feel a great sense of responsibility for most of the Jinju Kang family turning their backs on us this time. In any case, it’s a relief. He’ll be more than capable of putting things in order, even in the Lord’s absence.”

Huiya, who had been quietly listening, interjected.

“But isn’t there any opposition? People aren’t looking kindly on the nobles who stayed.”

“Who knows? That’s for the Lord and the new Chief Administrator to resolve.”

“What are they going to do about the Heavenly Pillar Brazier?”

“Well... Reactivating it requires ‘Jigwi’s Flame’... And we don’t know when the secret realm where we can obtain it will open again, so we’ll have to consider the Soul Binding gone for the time being.”

The Heavenly Pillar Brazier. The divine relic through which Daemudo’s disciples entered private soul-binding contracts upon joining. It tracked the location of disciples when they were murdered, and protected their Dao hearts through the power of their spoken vows. Its flame had gone out.

That meant that even if someone killed a Daemudo disciple, immediately tracking the culprit would be all but impossible. Moreover, even without direct restrictions, the weight of a vow sworn upon a divine relic had been considerable. Now even that last restraint was gone.

There would be disciples who no longer felt any compunction about murdering one another within Daemudo. That was what it meant for an overarching sect to lose its Soul Binding.

A group no different from any other cultivation sect, stripped of the last means of binding its members together and ensuring their mutual trust. Perhaps that was Daemudo’s future.

“What are they going to do about the traitors?”

Irang could not answer Huiya’s next question.

In truth, they deserved thorough retribution. The resources they had stolen were what Daemudo had amassed over two hundred years. Their plunder had gone far beyond anything that could be forgiven merely because they had not destroyed the divine relic outright or killed any disciples.

“We won’t go to war with former sect members right away. We’re still dealing with the aftermath of this war.”

But Daemudo would not forget this. It could never stand idly by and watch those who had stabbed it in the back when it needed them most live in luxury.

As time passed and people drifted apart, old ties faded. All it would take was an incident or two in succession for those ties to turn into enmity.

It was a time of turmoil. Yise had no idea what changes this upheaval would bring to the Three Kingdoms of the Peninsula and the Eastern Continent.

Several days later, an order went out summoning everyone in Daemudo. It was unprecedented: not only the inner disciples on the main mountain, but even the personnel from the outer affiliates’ outposts were called together.

Chief Administrator Kang Itae and six Hall Masters ascended the platform in the central square, where thousands of disciples had gathered. Hae Il was still nowhere to be seen.

Kang Itae surveyed the assembly, then slowly began to speak.

“I am Kang Itae, the newly appointed Chief Administrator. First, I offer my thanks to all who risked their lives fighting for Daemudo, and to those who supported us both materially and in spirit. You fought well.”

Someone began clapping, and the applause swelled until it resounded across the square. As it subsided, Kang Itae continued.

“I have gathered you all here to announce the changes that lie ahead for Daemudo.”

Change was inevitable. The question was what direction it would take, and no one could predict the answer. Everyone held their breath, waiting for his next words.

“First. The collection, use, and destruction of spiritual materials, excluding spirit beasts, will be permitted. We will concentrate on training pill refiners and developing cultivation methods that eliminate pill toxins. This policy will remain in effect until we have destroyed all of Daemudo’s enemies and conquered the Eastern Continent. The Spirit Beast Forest, however, will be preserved as it is. It will remain as the last testament to the ideals Daemudo once held.”

Murmurs spread. This was the moment Daemudo finally relinquished even the ideals it had upheld. Only the Spirit Beast Forest, which even the traitors had not dared touch because of the spirit beasts guarding it, would remain as a trace of that forgotten conviction.

“Second. Daemudo’s territory will be limited to Suari and Gamori. Consider Tabaro lost territory for all practical purposes.”

Its territorial boundaries were being redrawn.

“Third. The training compound will be closed. Instead, we will travel throughout the two kingdoms to select and train disciples ourselves.”

The way they raised the next generation would change.

“Fourth. As of today, the family system is abolished. All benefits, facilities, and systems connected to noble families will be eliminated. Anyone who grants favors or benefits on the basis of a shared surname will be punished as an example to the rest. Bear that in mind.”

Belatedly repairing the stable to prevent another loss,

“Lastly, most outer affiliates’ outposts will be closed, and the number of mandatory and voluntary missions will be reduced. All disciples are to devote themselves to cultivation until we have reclaimed Daemudo’s lost lands.”

He set a clear direction and goal for the disciples.

Yise was accepting the new policies, thinking the measures appropriate and thoroughly characteristic of Kang Itae, when a sound transmission reached him.

“Cultivator Yise, follow me. The Lord wishes to see you.”

It was a summons from Lord Hae Il. Yise paused briefly, then gave an almost imperceptible nod. He found it difficult to guess why the man was calling for him.