Pejon, with a fierce scowl on his face, spoke.

“…What exactly are you saying right now?” “I mean exactly what I said.”

He was referring to absorbing the martial arts energy already within his body, along with Pejon’s energy.

Pejon’s face twisted further as he responded.

“Are you saying you’re prepared to die? If so, I can help you in a far more efficient manner.”

He was essentially offering to beat me to death.

How intimidating.

To that, I replied,

“I’m not joking.” “If you’re not joking, then what? Are you trying to mock me?” “No, I’m completely serious.” “Ha.”

I could understand Pejon’s reaction. Normally, one can’t house two different types of martial arts energy within the same body. The Qi that each martial art channel is different, and if these contrasting energies clash, it can destroy one's meridians, leaving them crippled.

Wasn’t there even a story about Pejon?

It was said that he abandoned all his former martial arts techniques and started anew to create his own unique martial art. He even relinquished his identity as Pejon to rebuild himself from scratch. It’s an inevitable sacrifice for any martial artist.

In this situation, I was declaring that I’d learn his martial arts as I was. To Pejon, it must have sounded absurd.

“Do you really know what you’re saying right now?” “I do.” “If you knew, you wouldn’t say such things. Are you just playing around?”

Pejon’s voice grew increasingly filled with hostility, as if he genuinely thought I was making a joke. But I wasn’t joking. Ignoring his reaction, I continued.

“I know you have expectations for me.”

Pejon paused at my words. There’s a reason he’s overlooking my actions and desires to make me his disciple so fervently.

“I, too, have things I cannot give up.” “So, you plan to take both? Do you really think that’s possible?”

His gaze grew sharper.

“You truly underestimate martial arts.”

Even if the body could contain multiple martial arts, it’s rare to achieve mastery with just one. To him, my attempt to master both must have seemed like a foolhardy boast.

Still...

“If it seems impossible, I’ll give up. But—”

I didn’t break eye contact with Pejon as I finished my thought.

“If that’s not an option, I have no intention of becoming your disciple. You might as well kill me now.”

“...”

As he met my gaze, Pejon’s expression remained intense. He didn’t seem inclined to let it go, but he didn’t grow angrier either. I couldn’t tell if he was holding back his rage or weighing whether to break me.

Though I’d said it, I was ready to run if he decided to come at me. I had no intention of dying here. I was already subtly mapping out an escape route.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem inclined to kill me. After a long pause, Pejon finally responded.

“…What will you do if you try and realize it won’t work?”

Perfect.

Internally, I nodded at his response, careful not to show any reaction. I spoke to him.

“If that happens, I’ll empty myself and rebuild, as you wish.”

Pejon seemed to consider my words for a while, though I sensed he had already made up his mind.

Even though I claimed I’d abandon my current techniques, I had no actual intention of doing so. I had a certain conviction—that I could learn Pejon’s techniques without giving up my own.

And fortunately, that conviction was well-founded.

Switching to the next scene:

Mi Hyo-ran, the owner of the White Blossom Chamber and the lady of the Sanseogu family, held a white fan as she looked at her husband.

He was still seated at the desk, buried in paperwork as always. His gaze remained fierce, but he looked somewhat fatigued.

Though she was concerned about his appearance, the letter in her hand took precedence.

“What are you planning to do?”

Startled by the sharpness in her own voice, she resisted the urge to amend it.

Hearing her tone, her husband, Gu Cheol-woon—the Sanseogu family head and a renowned martial artist known as the "Hero"—lifted his head. His piercing red gaze was as unyielding as ever.

“What do you mean?” he replied as if clueless.

Mi Hyo-ran’s brows furrowed deeply.

“…Did you not receive this as well?”

With a sharp movement, she placed a letter on his desk. The blue seal was unmistakably that of the Martial Alliance.

“It says there will be a gathering. Is it true you don’t intend to go?” “...”

Her gaze was as cold as ice. She had intended to act immediately after receiving the letter but was holding back as much as she could.

“The meeting with the Muyong family, which was supposed to happen at the White Blossom Chamber, has been canceled. It seems they might have heard the news first.”

It was an assumption, though she was fairly certain. The fact that they had left for Hanam after forfeiting profits left only one question: What was he doing here?

Gu Cheol-woon’s gaze fell on the letter. As he read, his expression remained impassive, though Mi Hyo-ran could tell he wasn’t pleased.

“I know you didn’t attend the last gathering.”

The last meeting of the righteous factions, held over a decade ago, was something he had skipped. It was his choice not to attend, but by doing so, the Sanseogu family’s standing had diminished.

Participation in such gatherings was voluntary, but failing to show up had its consequences.

Though Mi Hyo-ran didn’t usually concern herself with the family’s reputation, as a mother, she had different priorities.

“I don’t blame you, knowing your reasons,” she said.

“What are you trying to say?” Gu Cheol-woon’s discomfort was evident, though Mi Hyo-ran remained unfazed.

“I heard you intend to send the first daughter, the elder, and the first sword chief in your stead.”

This was the delegation Gu Cheol-woon had arranged to represent him in Hanam.

Sending two elders along with kin demonstrated respect, but it didn’t sit well with Mi Hyo-ran.

“Are you… really okay with that?”

She sighed, the weariness evident in her voice.

“I won’t tell you to be a good father, as I haven’t been a good mother myself.”

With that, Mi Hyo-ran turned away, unsatisfied with everything.

“Even so, this can’t go on forever.”

While she felt sorry for her husband tied to Sanseo, she couldn’t ignore the children below him.

“Even if you don’t go, I will attend as the head of the White Blossom Chamber.”

Although not the highest-ranking, their contributions to the Martial Alliance were significant, and she was well-qualified to attend the gathering.

“If you wish, I will bring the children back.”

After saying her piece, she left, closing the door behind her.

Gu Cheol-woon remained in silence, dragging a hand over his face as he pondered her words. His eyes fell on the letter from the Alliance. After a moment, he summoned his attendant.

“Chonggwan.”

The attendant entered, bowing deeply.

“Yes, my lord. You called?”

Gu Cheol-woon gave a heavy command.

“Adjust the delegation. Inform them that I will also be attending.”

“…!”

Though his attendant was surprised, he showed no reaction other than to nod respectfully.

“Understood.”

Without questioning his reasons, the attendant bowed and left.

As the door closed, Gu Cheol-woon quietly shut his eyes. The passage of two months brought many to Hanam as the time for the gathering drew near.