A heavy silence hung over the main hall of the Bloodshed Room. No one dared to answer, and Mu-hui simply smiled.

“Can’t think of a reason? Then you should die. Or maybe, since I’m the last one standing, you could try one final act of defiance.”

Despite Mu-hui’s subtle provocation, none of the Black Path members dared to step forward. He was the one who had effortlessly cut down the Red Wolf Sword, a man who seemed to live in a completely different world.

Everyone present knew that even if they all attacked at once, they would quickly follow the Red Wolf Sword to the grave.

After a long pause, the deputy leader finally spoke, his voice strained.

“We will follow your orders, Master.”

“We will follow!”

The Black Path members echoed in unison, as if they had been waiting for this moment.

Clang!

The sound of Mu-hui roughly sheathing his sword made the deputy leader and the others flinch.

“If you change your tune later, it won’t end well for you.”

Mu-hui stood up and tapped the deputy leader’s shoulder with the scabbard.

“Lead the way. Show me where you’ve hidden the Bloodshed Room’s treasures.”

“Follow me.”

The deputy leader led Mu-hui to the leader’s office.

“Please wait a moment.”

The deputy leader fiddled with the bottom and legs of a low table in the office.

Creak!

A mechanism whirred, and the floor in the center of the office opened up, revealing the entrance to a vault.

Mu-hui looked down at the large vault and chuckled, crossing his arms.

“Installing a mechanism in the office, even for a Black Path group?”

“This was prepared by the Red Wolf Sword himself, before he passed.”

The deputy leader opened the vault and stepped aside for Mu-hui to see.

The vault was divided into three sections.

The first section was piled high with thick ledgers, likely recording the flow of money—protection fees from merchants, gambling profits, names and amounts of loans.

It was clear that, like most Black Path groups, the Bloodshed Room had been profiting through various illicit means.

The second section contained two boxes, one filled with gold and the other with silver.

“The gold was collected by the Red Wolf Sword every month, and the silver was used for the Bloodshed Room’s activities.”

From the deputy leader’s explanation, it seemed the profits had been regularly sent to the Nine Heavens Sect.

“Hmm?”

Mu-hui glanced over the money and opened a large container in the third section, revealing a rare, bright smile.

“Is this He Shou Wu?”

He brought the container close to his nose, inhaling the sharp, earthy scent.

“You have a keen eye. We happened upon it by chance. They say it’s two hundred years old.”

“Two hundred years?”

Nonsense.

Even the three-hundred-year-old He Shou Wu he had bought in his past life wasn’t this large.

Judging by its size and thickness, it seemed at least four hundred years old.

This was a rare and precious elixir.

“To think such a thing would be here.”

“The Red Wolf Sword intended to take it. He was supposed to visit in nine days, but he came early because of this.”

Mu-hui grinned, showing his white teeth at the deputy leader’s helpful explanation.

If the timing hadn’t been right, he wouldn’t have obtained this four-hundred-year-old He Shou Wu, even after dealing with the Red Wolf Sword.

“Fortune smiles on me.”

In his past life, he had never experienced such serendipity, no matter what he tried.

Without a sect to support him, he had to spend a fortune at the Black Market to obtain elixirs.

But now, after a simple skirmish with the Black Path, an elixir had fallen into his lap, and he couldn’t help but feel elated.

“Perhaps I was born under a lucky star.”

Mu-hui slung the container holding the He Shou Wu over his shoulder.

“Considering the leader’s martial arts, there must be a training room as well.”

Leaders of Black Path groups who practiced martial arts often had a secure space for meditation, as they couldn’t trust even their subordinates and were frequently attacked during meditation.

At Mu-hui’s question, the deputy leader bowed respectfully.

“It’s in the basement. I’ll show you.”

The deputy leader led him to a thick iron door in the basement.

Mu-hui opened the door and stepped inside, noting that it could be locked from within and that the stone walls were quite thick.

After thoroughly inspecting the training room for hidden mechanisms, Mu-hui nodded, satisfied with its safety. There was no risk of being ambushed during meditation here.

“Wait upstairs, deputy leader.”

“Yes, Master.”

Mu-hui locked the iron door behind him, sat cross-legged, and opened the container to take out the He Shou Wu.

He took a large bite, the bitter taste making his eyes widen, and the earthy smell filling his nose.

Despite the bitter taste, Mu-hui continued to chew and swallow. He finished the entire root, which was as thick as a man’s forearm, feeling full.

The intense bitterness made him stick out his tongue.

“A sweet bamboo leaf wine would be nice right about now.”

He felt the energy of the He Shou Wu surging through his meridians.

Smacking his lips, Mu-hui immediately began his meditation, channeling the refined energy of the Nine Small Heart Method from his dantian, chasing the He Shou Wu’s energy through his meridians.

As he had suspected, the He Shou Wu was at least four hundred years old, and its energy was quite fierce, resisting his internal energy.

The higher the quality of the elixir, the deeper its spiritual energy, making it resistant to merging with other energies.

This was why one couldn’t absorb all the energy of an elixir at once.

Understanding and skill in handling energy, as well as consuming elixirs compatible with one’s cultivation method, were crucial.

“Four hundred years old? No problem.”

With his past life’s experience, Mu-hui had more than enough understanding of energy, and the refined Nine Small Heart Method was sufficient to harness the He Shou Wu’s energy.

Mu-hui didn’t just harness the energy; he forced it through the Nine Small Heart Method’s pathways.

He burned away impurities clinging to his meridians and forcibly expanded them.

The process of tearing and healing his meridians with the He Shou Wu’s energy repeated, strengthening them.

Though the process brought pain, it was nothing to Mu-hui.

Instead, he continued his meditation with even more vigor.

When more than half of the He Shou Wu’s energy was consumed, Mu-hui’s once narrow meridians were now as clear as a wide road.

This not only increased the speed of his meditation but also the amount of energy he could store.

“This is a decent level.”

Though there was room for further improvement, Mu-hui didn’t push his luck and carefully absorbed the remaining energy.

Having used the He Shou Wu’s energy without waste, Mu-hui finished his meditation by circulating his internal energy through the Nine Small Heart Method’s pathways.

When Mu-hui opened his eyes, they gleamed with a sharper light before returning to normal.

“That was a good meal.”

His meridians were now wider and cleaner, and his dantian felt more robust.

Even though it was a four-hundred-year-old He Shou Wu, it wasn’t an elixir that could bring about such significant changes in one go.

Even if the prodigies of other major sects consumed it, they wouldn’t achieve the same results.

Only Mu-hui could do this.

But he wasn’t satisfied.

He had only just laid the foundation.

“I need to get stronger, quickly.”

Though Mu-hui was growing at an unprecedented pace, he was still at the level of a late-stage master.

Mu-hwa had said that his peers at this level aspired to become one of the Six Dragons.

The Six Dragons.

The six most renowned late-stage masters across the martial world.

Whether they were dragons or snakes, Mu-hui didn’t care.

He aimed to reach the pinnacle of the martial world, to become an absolute master beyond anyone’s reach.

With such a distant goal, Mu-hui had no choice but to take large strides.

“Just wait.”

Mu-hui pushed open the iron door of the training room and stepped out.

* * *

In the main hall of the Bloodshed Room, a small table was set with drinks. Around it sat the disciples of the Mount Hua Sect.

As the disciples’ eyes were fixed on the bottles, Mu-hui smirked slightly and picked one up.

“Senior Brother, aren’t we not supposed to drink?”

“Why not? It’s not like Mount Hua forbids drinking like Shaolin does.”

“That’s true, but there are specific occasions when we’re allowed to drink.”

Mu-hui shot a glance at Mu-jin.

“Oh, you stickler.”

Mount Hua didn’t completely forbid drinking, but there were clear occasions for it—regular events, year-end celebrations, or times of celebration.

“Today is a day to celebrate, so we drink.”

“Senior Brother, what’s the occasion?”

Mu-hui filled each of their cups with wine as he spoke.

“You’ve all survived your first real battle and are here, safe and sound.”

“Oh…”

Mu-hwa, who had been leaning forward eagerly, suddenly leaned back.

Mu-hui surveyed the disciples.

Mu-hwa had an injury on his thigh.

Mu-jin was uninjured, but his robe was torn in several places.

Mu-cheol was unscathed.

“Do you know that the most dangerous time for a late-stage master is their first real battle?”

As Mu-hui reached for the bottle to refill his glass one last time, Mu-cheol silently intercepted, pouring the drink for him instead.

“Surviving your first real battle is a significant milestone, my disciples. Well done,” Mu-hui said, raising his glass. The other disciples followed suit, lifting their glasses in unison.

“Wasn’t it your first real battle too, senior brother?” one of them teased.

“Ah, you’re right. And I did the best, of course,” Mu-hui replied with a playful grin.

“What’s that supposed to mean, senior brother?” another chimed in, laughing.

Mu-hwa giggled at Mu-hui’s jest, while Mu-jin couldn’t help but smirk. The disciples of the Hwasan sect clinked their glasses together before taking a sip.

Mu-hwa downed her drink in one go, while Mu-jin savored his more cautiously.

“This drink is sweet! The one I had when I became a second disciple was so bitter,” Mu-hwa remarked, licking her cherry-red lips and eyeing the bottle with interest.

“That’s the charm of bamboo leaf wine. I felt like having some today, so I got it,” Mu-hui explained, still tasting the bitterness of the medicinal herb he’d had earlier.

“Bamboo leaf wine? It’s quite nice,” Mu-cheol commented, staring at his swirling drink before taking a sip. He then turned to Mu-hui with a question.

“Senior brother, it was your first real battle too. How did you keep your composure?”

Though Mu-cheol had appeared calm during the fight, he had been secretly anxious and unable to wield his sword to its full potential. He had narrowly dodged attacks he would usually deflect with ease. Yet, Mu-hui had shown no such hesitation, cutting down the formidable enemy with the grace of a seasoned master.

Mu-hwa and Mu-jin, equally curious, looked to Mu-hui for his answer.

‘How did I manage? It’s not my first battle; I’ve faced hundreds, thousands,’ Mu-hui thought, but he couldn’t say that to his disciples.

Drawing from memories of a distant past life, he spoke, “Fear is your ally.”

“Fear, you say?” Mu-cheol echoed, puzzled.

When they were set to leave the mountain, the elders and senior disciples had offered advice, mostly about staying calm and relaxed. But here was Mu-hui, speaking of fear.

“Not fear of the enemy,” Mu-hui clarified, recalling his first battle as the Sword Demon, where it was kill or be killed.

“I feared my own death and feared for your safety. To avoid such outcomes, I had to cut down the enemy before me. It’s not such a big deal.”

In his past life, the Sword Demon had conquered fear by conquering his foes. That was his way.

Mu-hui refilled his empty glass. “Take it as you will. Everyone has their own way of fighting.”

Mu-cheol, deep in thought, fiddled with his glass. “Hearing you, senior brother, makes me truly grateful that we all came back safely today.”

“Indeed. Let’s just drink to that,” Mu-hwa declared, raising her glass high. Mu-jin, who had been rubbing his temples, gently lowered her hand.

“Mu-hwa, take it easy,” he cautioned.

Though she’d only had three drinks, Mu-hwa’s face was already flushed like a plum blossom on the mountain.

As the Hwasan disciples enjoyed their modest gathering, a visitor arrived at the tavern. Recognizing the guest, Mu-hui greeted him warmly.

“I was planning to visit you tomorrow, but you’ve come to see us first.”

“Is that so? I was feeling a bit peckish tonight, so I thought I’d drop by,” replied So Jin-gae from the Beggars’ Sect.

“Mind if I join you for a late-night snack?”

End