In the dead of night.

It wasn’t unusual for martial artists to glance outside at the sudden brightness filling the sky.

“What is that…?”

Hwang Bo-jun was among those whose gaze was drawn to the window. The night sky was painted crimson, and a disturbing flow of energy radiated from its direction.

This wasn’t normal. Something significant had happened.

Sensing trouble, Hwang Bo-jun leaped into action.

As he raced forward, his keen senses picked up the presence of several martial artists.

Considering the time and place—Hanam during the Yongbong Gathering—it wasn’t surprising to encounter numerous peak-level practitioners.

Four had already crossed his path as he made his way toward the source of the disturbance.

‘What could be happening?’

No sane individual would dare cause trouble in Hanam at a time like this. Despite the questions swirling in his mind, Hwang Bo-jun pressed on, eventually arriving at the Imperial Villa.

Perched atop the high walls, his jaw dropped in shock.

Scarlet flames towered toward the heavens, their motion frozen as if time itself had stopped.

“Frozen flames?”

Though it defied common sense, such feats weren’t impossible for masters of ice techniques.

However, flames born from martial arts were another matter entirely.

This scene suggested one of two possibilities: a staggering disparity in power, or the complete nullification of the martial technique.

As he stared in disbelief, a sense of familiarity crept into Hwang Bo-jun’s mind.

The aura emanating from the frozen flames—a pure yet unsettling energy—tugged at his memory.

“North Sea Ice Palace…?”

His suspicion turned into certainty. He had seen the Ice Wall Divine Art of the North Sea Ice Palace before.

Though the practitioner he had encountered had been torn apart by a monstrous foe, the martial art itself had lived up to its legendary name.

“You’ve come too, I see.”

“Elder Hong Anggae.”

Hwang Bo-jun turned to find Hong Anggae, a senior member of the Beggars’ Sect, who had his base in Kaifeng.

Though they had never met personally, the shared reputation of their sects lent an air of familiarity.

Hong Anggae observed the frozen flames with a grim expression.

“No doubt about it—it has to be someone from the North Sea Ice Palace.”

“You think so too, senior?”

“Anyone who’s seen the Ice Wall Divine Art would recognize it at a glance.”

Hong Anggae’s sharp eyes swept over their surroundings.

The villa was now surrounded by martial artists, their numbers growing steadily.

Whoever the Ice Palace practitioner was, it was unlikely they had escaped yet.

Just then—

“Huh…!”

A gasp drew Hong Anggae’s attention to a figure in the distance.

“The Abbot?”

It was none other than the Abbot of Shaolin.

Hong Anggae, startled but pleased, let a smile cross his face.

“This couldn’t be better.”

If they managed to capture a martial artist of this caliber—someone capable of freezing flames—it would undoubtedly be a key figure within the Ice Palace.

Such a capture could shift the balance of power in their ongoing conflict.

Scanning the gathered martial artists, Hong Anggae raised his voice.

“Abbot! Some of us will investigate the situation inside. Please ensure the culprit cannot escape!”

He refrained from rushing in recklessly. There was no telling what traps or surprises awaited within.

For now, maintaining a perimeter and approaching with caution was the best course of action.

“So be it,” the Abbot replied with a nod.

Satisfied, Hong Anggae turned to enlist the help of familiar faces among the martial artists.

“Hwang Bo, up for it?”

“Of course.”

“And you?”

“Yes, senior.”

Including Hong Anggae, four martial artists prepared to enter. But just as they were about to move, another figure caught Hong Anggae’s attention.

“Oh, Jin Gi-jae-chun. When did you arrive?”

“Just now.”

Seo-jun strolled up with a lazy yawn, his nonchalant demeanor drawing a chuckle from Hong Anggae.

“We’re heading inside. Coming along?”

“Sure. Let’s go.”

Seo-jun’s faint smile betrayed none of the mischief in his thoughts.

‘Too easy.’

    *
   

Just a few minutes earlier, Seo-jun, sensing the incoming martial artists, had swiftly descended to the first floor of the villa using Moonlit Phantom Steps.

Inside the villa, chaos reigned among the martial artists present.

The clamor of their presences made it easy for Seo-jun to maneuver undetected.

‘Oh.’

At that moment, Seo-jun sensed an overwhelming presence—one fused seamlessly with the space around it and radiating the profound aura of Buddhist martial arts.

It was the Abbot.

Realizing that one misstep could spell disaster, Seo-jun moved with the utmost caution.

The martial artists outside had taken positions atop the villa’s walls, scanning for any movement below.

Remaining hidden would have been no problem, but breaking through the encirclement posed a risk, even for Seo-jun.

Of course, if caught, he could flee in Baek Seo-jun’s guise and undo his Reverse Technique mid-escape, but there was no need to gamble unnecessarily.

Instead, Seo-jun discreetly approached the base of the villa wall, deactivated his stealth technique, and leaned casually against the wall.

After a moment, a martial artist spotted him.

“Hm? Isn’t that Jin Gi-jae-chun? When did you get here?”

It was an elder from the Wudang Sect, a familiar face Seo-jun had seen at the conference. Seo-jun grinned and waved.

“Just a little while ago.”

“What’s going on here all of a sudden… Ah, I am Heo Do of Wudang. In the martial world, I am somewhat overgenerously called the Taechung Swordmaster.”

“You know me, right?”

“Of course! I watched your duel recently. Impressive skills.”

“Oh, come on, it was nothing.”

Seo-jun chuckled, and Heo Do smiled warmly in return.

“By the way, may I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“That counter technique of yours—the one you used to nullify the Celestial Flame Supreme Art...”

“Oh, that? Want me to explain it?”

Seo-jun didn’t particularly care for the Imperial Family and thought that revealing part of the counter technique might serve as a satisfying setback for them.

Though others wouldn’t be able to replicate his method completely, sharing it with a peak-level martial artist from Wudang could still hinder the Imperial Family.

However, Heo Do immediately declined.

“No, that won’t be necessary. Sharing such knowledge might cause significant friction between sects.”

What a shame.

“Then, what did you want to ask?”

“How did you manage to counter the Celestial Flame Supreme Art? Surely you didn’t get your hands on the Imperial Family’s secret martial art.”

Surprisingly, he had.

Seo-jun had studied the Celestial Flame Supreme Art to the point of being able to replicate it almost perfectly.

Naturally, he didn’t admit this outright.

“It was thanks to the teachings of the Gold Sword Clan,” he said vaguely.

“Ah, one of the Gold Sword Clan’s techniques? I see. Well, knowing the Sword God, it wouldn’t be surprising if he created such an art,” Heo Do remarked, laughing heartily and bowing in respect.

“In any case, congratulations. I’ve always felt uneasy about the Gold Sword Clan’s decline, but seeing its legacy continue eases my heart.”

“Thank you. Please take care of our Chun…, uh, I mean Hee, as well.”

“Of course! The honor is mine.”

As Seo-jun chatted amiably with Heo Do, other martial artists began to approach, drawn by the conversation.

Though the situation was serious, most seemed surprisingly relaxed.

Perhaps because the issue involved the Imperial Family—a distant concern for most—and they had arrived quickly enough to believe no major catastrophe had occurred.

“Oh, Senior Hong Anggae is here too? Excuse me for a moment.”

Seizing the chance, Seo-jun slipped away and approached Hong Anggae and Hwang Bo-jun.

He soon found himself volunteering to investigate the villa’s interior.

Hong Anggae led the group swiftly into the villa.

“This many martial artists couldn’t sense anything amiss from the outside. It’s likely that the Ice Palace practitioner is still hiding within.”

If a battle had been ongoing, the orthodox martial artists wouldn’t have remained so composed.

The situation was akin to a cornered rat—now all they had to do was find it.

As they moved cautiously through the villa, Seo-jun spoke up.

“Are we heading straight for the top floor?”

“Yes,” Hong Anggae replied, nodding. “The disturbance seems to have originated from there. I asked the villa’s guards earlier, and apparently, the Celestial Flame General was on the top floor.”

A scream echoed through the villa.

“G-General…!!”

The martial artists reacted instantly, racing to the top floor.

There, they found the scene of the crime.

Amid frozen flames stood the contorted, lifeless figure of the Celestial Flame General.

“So, it happened after all.”

Hong Anggae clicked his tongue, and the other martial artists cursed under their breath, their faces twisted in discomfort.

“Seems the orthodox martial world has been underestimated…!”

Though they hadn’t been fond of the general, the idea of a Black Lotus assassin infiltrating Hanam to kill an orthodox master was a blatant affront to their honor.

Hong Anggae quickly calmed them down and surveyed the area.

“Let’s search each floor thoroughly from here to the bottom.”

Hwang Bo-jun offered a simpler suggestion.

“Why not just demolish the entire building? Then we wouldn’t need to search at all.”

“…You might actually be onto something,” Hong Anggae replied, clapping his hands.

“Alright, let’s evacuate everyone first.”

Though the suggestion faced resistance from the Imperial Family’s attendants, the Third Prince, Ju Yang-il, intervened.

“Quit wasting time on petty details. Evacuate the building and focus on eliminating the enemy!”

With the prince’s orders, the attendants complied.

The general’s body and the four courtesans, half-dressed and pale, were also brought out.

The courtesans had survived, but it was doubtful they’d live long. The Imperial Family’s attendants would likely silence them.

‘I should take them with me,’ Seo-jun thought.

He resolved to help the women escape later, possibly sending them to work as servants for the Namgung Clan or safely housing them elsewhere.

“This should be everyone.”

An attendant bowed to Hong Anggae.

After verifying with his senses, Seo-jun confirmed no one remained in the building.

As for the possibility of the Ice Palace practitioner escaping by blending into the crowd?

Reverse Technique could alter one’s appearance, but it couldn’t mask energy. Even if their energy was concealed, the Shaolin Abbot outside would notice.

“All clear to demolish?”

The task was left to Seo-jun.

With a flourish of his hands, he channeled the opposing forces of yin and yang to unleash the Mixed Origin Sun and Moon Art.

BOOOOOOM!!!

The building was obliterated in a massive explosion, leaving behind nothing but a gaping crater.

The martial artists stared in stunned silence before exchanging bewildered glances.

Seo-jun, feigning shock, shouted, “Where could they have gone?”

Baek Seo-jun, you elusive bastard.