To put it plainly, the meeting itself went smoothly.
"Hee. Would you mind telling me what was discussed?"
Perhaps it was because she'd been focusing on her training ever since she saw the Poison Lady from before the regression through the secret arts. Lately, Tang So-wol was hard to spot except for a brief moment before sleep, and now she sidled up against me and said that.
The sensation of shoulder touching shoulder. Because of the height difference, her shoulder brushed against mine slightly lower, and it tickled.
She seemed aware that we hadn't been spending much time together lately, as if she was trying to make up for it now.
I let out a small chuckle and leaned slightly toward Tang So-wol in turn as I continued.
"It's not difficult. First and foremost, we settled on what the final goal is. Whether we end it at defeating the Heavenly Demon, whether we use this chance to uproot the Demonic Cult entirely, or whether we simply stop those bastards from ever setting foot on the Central Plains again."
"It seems even I, who don't know the details of the meeting, can guess this much. You've decided to end it at defeating the Heavenly Demon, haven't you?"
"That's right. Of course, if the remnants of the Demonic Cult pose a threat, that's a different story… but in any case, we've agreed not to slaughter Demonic Cultists indiscriminately. There are a few conditions, though."
It's a matter of morality.
I don't know the circumstances of the Heavenly Demon, but most Demonic Cultists are people who started out as victims.
They are people the Imperial Court failed to protect, people who couldn't receive help from the Orthodox Sects, people who couldn't even belong to the Unorthodox Sects.
Whether their burden is great or small, each of them carries their own responsibility, so we can't slaughter them all without hesitation.
If we did, who would trust and follow us?
"Of course, they aren't purely victims either. They've crossed the line far too many times."
"So there are conditions?"
"Correct."
Children born in the Demonic Cult.
Those who didn't suffer injustice themselves and choose to burn their lives for revenge, but were simply injected with grudges from those around them.
And those who, for the sake of such children, were willing to give up their own revenge.
"In such cases, we'll cripple their martial arts, confine them to a specific area, and keep them under lifelong surveillance… but at least their lives will be spared. Well, it's probably premature to think about what happens after we defeat the Heavenly Demon."
"Heh heh. Even before we claim victory, shouldn't we uphold our principles? After all, we are the Orthodox Sects, and it's the Imperial Court that lends us its strength."
That was true, but the biggest reason was that even if they somehow brought down the Heavenly Demon and uprooted the Demonic Cult, another Demonic Cult could rise again someday.
Injustice exists everywhere. As long as people live in this world, no matter how much time passes, this will never change.
And among them, some will be so consumed by their grievances that they surrender their bodies to demons.
Even if the names change, demons never disappear. As long as people are people, there is no helping it.
So what must be done? Everyone present at the gathering agreed on the answer.
"In the end, people must walk the righteous path."
"Whoa…"
"…What is it?"
"It's just that hearing the young hero Cheon talk about righteousness and such seems so out of character."
"Unjust. Where else would you find an Orthodox Sect member as exemplary as I am?"
"People like that don't get aliases like 'Number One of the Unorthodox Sects.'"
"…"
Fighting dirty by using facts. I wish he'd fight fair and square with lies and fabrications instead.
"Anyway, since we settled the goal and the line first, what remained after that was the division of roles."
"Roles… True. Not every sect in the Orthodox-Unorthodox Alliance is strong."
"Take the North Sea Ice Palace, for instance."
A martial artist's strength rises exponentially with their realm.
Take the Peak Realm, for instance.
Even if dozens of first-rate martial artists—those at the very edge of what ordinary effort can achieve—swarmed in, it would not be easy for them to so much as brush the sleeve of a Peak Realm martial artist.
Of course, that changes if the Peak Realm master grows tired, exhausts their internal energy, or if methods like poison and hidden weapons are brought into play.
But in general, a single Peak Realm martial artist can easily overcome dozens of first-rate ones.
Hence, from the Peak Realm onward, one is called a master.
And this gap only deepens as one climbs higher.
A Peak Realm martial artist finds it extremely difficult to surpass a Transcendent Peak one, and even a Transcendent Peak master cannot pierce the Protective Qi wrapped around an absolute master of the Harmony Realm.
…Perhaps the Orthodox-Unorthodox Alliance faced something similar when dealing with the Heavenly Demon.
In the end, what matters in a battle between martial artists isn't numbers, but realm.
Forcing mediocre fighters who lack the skill onto the front lines is practically a death sentence for them all.
"We've decided to dispatch only Harmony Realm and Transcendent Peak martial artists from each sect and clan to take the front. The rest are left to their own discretion, but everyone is to provide support in some way—whether it's manpower or supplies, depending on their scale."
"Hmm. That's reasonable. Then, in the case of the Centipede Gate…"
"Although the Seven-Flower Centipede is a powerful Spirit Beast, its master, Maeng Yu-baek, is still weak, isn't he? A Spirit Beast that might bolt at any moment—and one with potent poison, at that—can't be sent to the front lines alone. So we've decided to have them supply funds and goods safely from the rear."
"Phew. That's a relief. I've grown quite close to Lady Maeng through our various dealings, so I was a bit worried."
Tang So-wol, as if relieved, brushes a hand over her chest.
His eyes naturally follow the movement. The curve traced by her slender fingers. Though her growing years are long past, somehow a drastic change is felt.
Come to think of it, during their research with Maeng Yu-baek on Pung Yu-hwan's findings, Tang So-wol—practically immune to poison—had offered to test the effects herself.
Suddenly, the side effects Maeng Yu-baek had mentioned the other day came to mind.
"…"
"Young hero Cheon? Why are you suddenly staring at the ceiling?"
"…It's nothing. My neck was just a bit stiff."
Anyway, that was that.
It was only after I had composed myself in various ways for a while that I could continue speaking.
"Ahem. And there's one more thing you need to know."
"What is it?"
"The battle with the Demonic Cult will begin with us taking the offensive first. That is, unless there's some unexpected problem."
"…What?"
"It will be a great war. To keep the common people of the Central Plains from being caught up in it as much as possible, and to be able to retreat if things go wrong, this is the only way. Above all, thanks to the Imperial Court, we may even receive help from the army stationed near the border."
"Ah. Now that I think about it, that's true. I suppose I was too focused on the goal of stopping the Demonic Cult's invasion. …This, too, must be a prejudice born from glimpsing young hero Cheon's memories."
Tang So-wol said this with a soft chuckle. At the sudden mention of regression, the seal activated and my mouth closed on its own.
But Tang So-wol, as if she had known this would happen, simply held my hand in silence.
Warmth traveled through our overlapping hands. Tang So-wol leaned her upper body forward, closing the distance in an instant, and spoke in a low voice.
"I no longer ask either, young hero Cheon. What you saw, what you guarded against and feared so much… and what you swung your sword without rest for."
"…"
"I won't worry needlessly. Nor will I say we should throw it all away and run now. After all, the conclusion you reached now came after thinking it over many times."
"…"
"Just remember this one thing."
Tang So-wol's hand rose slowly. One hand rested on my chest, the other cupped my cheek.
Her deep green eyes drew close. Close enough that I could see my own reflection in them.
…And close enough that memories from before the regression surfaced.
The look in Tang So-wol's eyes now resembled that of the Poison Lady, who had begged me to live in our final moments.
In the end, I had ignored the Poison Lady's words and half-thrown my own life away.
If I could go back to that time… what should I have answered?
Before a person who had forgotten her own safety and grudges, and looked only at me—what was I supposed to promise?
While I was lost in thought, the corners of Tang So-wol's mouth curved into a gentle arc.
A smile tinged with a hint of apology, yet carrying a sense of helpless inevitability.
"If young hero Cheon dies, I will follow him in death."
"What?"
Startled by such an completely unexpected statement, Tang So-wol continued in a composed tone.
"Didn't young hero Cheon do the same? I saw it all, you know. How you charged forward, ignoring the words of another me."
"…"
Tang So-wol, who slyly brought up the contents from before the regression to render me speechless.
As if confirming my existence, she stroked my cheek several times—that was just a bonus.
"If young hero Cheon could do it, then why would I have no reason to do the same? …However, if you do not wish to see me die."
Having said that much, Tang So-wol extended her pinky finger with a slow movement.
"Make a promise with me."
"What kind of promise?"
"Why, a promise that you will surely win and return with all your limbs intact."
"…That's not an easy thing to promise."
"But for the sake of your lovely betrothed, it's something you can readily agree to, isn't it?"
Tang So-wol wore a deliberately playful smile. I let out a hollow laugh and nodded toward her.
"Fine, I'll give it a try."
I too raised my pinky finger and linked it with Tang So-wol's.
As we stayed like that for a moment, I suddenly felt a faint warmth emanating from our fingers.
Looking down, I saw poison seeping out through the linked pinky finger with Tang So-wol.
The venom glowed with an unusually deep green. Even at a glance, the energy contained within it was anything but ordinary.
It was poison energy so thick that Tang So-wol, at least up until now, wouldn't have been able to use it… yet it was pure.
It wasn't created by mixing the various poisons Tang So-wol usually employed.
It had existed in this form from the very beginning.
A special poison that had never existed in the world before—one that only Tang So-wol, born with the Poison Spirit Constitution, could produce.
But strangely enough, this poison, which posed no harm to me whatsoever, stretched out as thin as a thread, wrapping around and linking my finger with Tang So-wol's.
It looked as if we each wore a ring on our pinky fingers.
Tang So-wol muttered in a voice tinged with exhaustion, as if she had been concentrating with all her might.
"For someone at my current level, this is the best I can do… but at least I can now deliver it to you in this way."
"This is…"
"Hehe. It was worth all the hardship I went through."
Despite her fatigue, Tang So-wol wore a relieved smile. At the same time, the green thread connecting her finger to mine… dissolved as the poison seeped into my skin.
The poison vanished without a trace. But the heat I had felt at first remained intact, traveling through my blood vessels toward my heart.
And then, the moment my heart embraced the heat I had received from Tang So-wol.
"Ah."
For a moment, the world became clearer.
That was the only way to describe it—a strange sensation.
If asked what had changed, I couldn't answer precisely… but at the very least, it couldn't be bad for me. If anything, it could only be good.
"Surely this isn't a poison you made, Tang So-wol?"
"It's a little different. I was merely asked to deliver it to young hero Cheon."
"Then who exactly?"
"That is…"
Tang So-wol trailed off. She, who had been clinging close, took a step back and began to stretch.
Tang So-wol turned her back for a moment, then craned her neck to look back at me, pressing a finger to her lips.
"Shh. It's a secret from young hero Cheon, alright?"
With those words, as if her business here was done, she strode straight out of the room.
I stared blankly at the door she had vanished through, then cautiously placed a hand over my chest.
"Well. Not a bad feeling."
Yes. It really wasn't a bad feeling.
"…?"
That was, until I noticed the two damp marks left on my chest where Tang So-wol had been pressed against me just moments before.
A faint, sweet fragrance rising.
"…!"
I could finally understand, just a little, why Seomun Hwa-rin had stolen my sweat-soaked training uniform.