The Eight Great Sects’ elite fighters, arriving late, surveyed the scorched battlefield.

“We found traces of Demonic Void Art!”

“Find Jang Jinmyeong! He has to be nearby!”

A forest burned pitch-black, and the surrounding area bore the scars of having frozen solid—then melted down into slush.

It was hard to even guess how desperate the fight had been.

The sect leader of the Supreme Pole Sword Gate, who had personally led one of the pursuit teams, let out a low sigh.

“Were we... a step too late again...?”

They’d been chasing Jang Jinmyeong when they saw flames suddenly surge skyward. Thinking it was him, they sprinted straight in—only to find a spell-constructed doll, its body wrapped in fire as it ran.

Someone, identity unknown, had interfered and forced them to take a long detour. That delay cost them more time, and in the end...

“Sect Leader! We’ve found the Glacier Priestess. She’s treating her injuries.”

At the report, the sect leader of the Supreme Pole Sword Gate launched into a lightness technique, flying toward where the Glacier Priestess was.

“What happened to Jang Jinmyeong? Don’t tell me the bastard escaped again—”

“I executed him. With my own hands.”

At that short, clean answer, everyone fell silent.

The Glacier Priestess, her grotesque cheek burn temporarily numbed with cold, continued in an even voice.

“I wanted to capture the traitor of my sect and a martial-world public enemy, and drag him back in chains... but that was beyond what I could do.”

“You’re saying you handled Jang Jinmyeong—after he learned Demonic Void Art—all by yourself?”

Surprise and awe spread across the martial artists’ faces as they stared at her.

They had all seen the horrifying power of Demonic Void Art Jang Jinmyeong displayed at the Martial Alliance. It was bad enough that people believed even the Martial Alliance Leader couldn’t bring him down alone.

“...He was already dying from the side effects of Demonic Void Art. Even if you’d found him first, Sect Leader, you could have executed him too.”

She spoke as if she were neither exaggerating nor downplaying a thing.

Only then did everyone finally nod, as though they understood.

Of course, even so, it didn’t change the fact that the Glacier Priestess’s martial prowess was beyond what they’d imagined.

“Um... did you happen to see the corpse of the Golden Winged Bird, or its inner core?”

The spell-casters who had come with the pursuit team asked cautiously.

Over the last few days of relentless investigation, it had become known that Jang Jinmyeong refined Demonic Void Art using the power of the Golden Winged Bird, classified as a Great Anomaly.

If he’d possessed the corpse or the inner core, the value would have been impossible to measure.

“If you secured it, Glacier Priestess... perhaps you’d consider trading with us...”

For spell-casters who studied anomalies, it was a treasure worth losing their minds over. Their eyes gleamed with naked greed.

“I didn’t see it.”

The Glacier Priestess only shook her head, looking tired.

“And even if it existed, it would have burned away. The moment Jang Jinmyeong’s breathing stopped, he ignited himself—leaving not even bone fragments behind.”

“Wh-What? Even so, you’re saying the Golden Winged Bird burned—”

“Are you implying I’m lying?”

At her icy voice, the startled spell-casters shrank back and hurriedly apologized.

“N-No.”

“We’re sorry. That wasn’t our intention.”

It felt like if they pushed any further, they wouldn’t be able to handle her anger.

Then the Glacier Priestess sighed and pointed to the ashes only a few dozen meters away.

“Then take that and run a DNA test.”

“No way that’s—”

“That’s the end of a martial-world public enemy.”

The spell-casters hesitated, but carefully gathered a small sample of the ashes. The Glacier Priestess watched them with a frigid gaze, yet didn’t say another word.

Taking even bone dust to confirm death was a procedure they’d need regardless.

‘So she really did kill Jang Jinmyeong.’

‘Just looking at the wounds tells you how vicious it was...’

The martial artists who had chased Jang Jinmyeong day and night for days had no choice now but to accept his death.

A short time later, the Eight Great Sects’ elites—who had scattered in different directions during the pursuit—converged in one place.

Azure Sky Sword Elder Na Ilcheon, having heard what happened, let out a relieved breath.

“Either way... it’s finally been settled. For now.”

At his words, the sect leaders and elite fighters of the Eight Great Sects nodded with exhausted faces.

“We couldn’t arrest him, but at least public opinion will quiet down a bit now.”

“I haven’t even washed in days. I’m sick of it.”

“It’s over—so let’s all go home!”

As the Eight Great Sects’ martial artists prepared to return to their respective sects, their expressions brightening, only the Glacier Priestess muttered with a face like ice.

“Over...? I think this is where it begins for me.”

She cast one last glance at the spot where the ashes had been, then turned away without hesitation and walked on.

*****

<Martial-World Public Enemy Jang Jinmyeong, Killed by Sun and Moon Gate Grand Elder Glacier Priestess!>

But contrary to the Eight Great Sects’ expectations, even after Jang Jinmyeong’s death was announced, the public’s fury at them didn’t die down easily.

Distrust toward the entrenched, privileged martial-world powers—something that had been building for a long time—erupted all at once. As if someone had touched a flame to a fuse, revelations poured out one after another.

Senior Eight Great Sects insider, accused of admissions favoritism for child...

“Emergency audio file obtained”... Golden Glory Gate elder, embroiled in sexual scandal allegations

Eight Great Sects sect leader Mr. M, controversy over “ultra-luxury golf entertainment”

Reporters whipped their fingers across keyboards like blades. The Eight Great Sects’ accumulated sins came roaring back as an unavoidable finishing move.

The Eight Great Sects, who had once feared nothing, crouched under criticism and backlash as fierce as a wildfire. They could only wait for the storm to pass.

Then, in the middle of it all, news hit like a bolt from a clear sky—the Sun and Moon Gate would close the gates.

“...The Sun and Moon Gate has decided to accept responsibility for the Jang Jinmyeong incident, and for a time, close the gates and enter a period of self-reflection.”

Clickclickclickclick!

The Sun and Moon Gate’s Grand Elder—and strongest master—the Glacier Priestess personally held a press conference, bowed her head in apology before countless cameras, and declared the closure.

[Glacier Priestess! You can’t do this!]

[Withdraw the closure immediately!]

[It’s already chaos as it is—]

The sect leaders of the Eight Great Sects contacted her directly, trying to persuade her to withdraw it, but the Glacier Priestess left only a single long message—then shut herself away and refused all contact.

[The Sun and Moon Gate no longer deserves to be called a Great Sect. Therefore, I don’t believe we can attend future Eight Great Sects regular meetings either.

Sect Leaders, please keep strict order within your sects, and do not follow the same path we did.]

It was, in truth, the end of the Eight Great Sects alliance.

While the Eight Great Sects turned chaotic from the Sun and Moon Gate’s closure, the Martial Alliance moved fast.

“Arrest everyone connected to Jang Jinmyeong! Whoever they are, they won’t escape suspicion!”

As the Martial Alliance Leader contacted the National Assembly to push through the proposed legislation, the Martial Alliance began arresting martial artists with suspected ties to Jang Jinmyeong and interrogating them.

“I-I just did what I was told! I don’t know anything!”

In that process, Elder Gu Jaseung—the GREAT HEAVEN GATE’s youngest elder—was detained.

A trusted man of the now-dead sect leader, he confessed about the illegal business sites the GREAT HEAVEN GATE sect leader and Jang Jinmyeong had operated together. As the filth was exposed, the world was shocked yet again.

“Hell—how far does it reach?”

“Disgusting bastards...”

“Don’t tell me the Eight Great Sects are all like this?”

The one enjoying it most was the Martial Alliance Leader, Yeo Pilgeuk.

“Those who’ve lived upright can sleep with their legs stretched out. But the ones with something to hide will feel their blood dry up, day after day!”

At the lion’s-roar-like declaration, the Martial Alliance’s heroic swordsmen responded in force, and the Eight Great Sects shrank even further.

*****

With scandal after scandal tied to the Eight Great Sects, the Korean martial world was burning with fever day by day.

But the very people who had, without exaggeration, created this situation were spending their time in peace—as if they’d been granted a vacation.

PYAAAK!

In The Dark Den, which had practically become their base, the Blue Wolves crew members crouched down, watching the baby Golden Winged Bird eat.

PYAAK! PYAAK-PYAAK!

Flapping its short little wings as it tore into the meat they brought, it looked less like a Great Anomaly and more like a scarlet chick.

“It’s cute...”

“Little punk can eat.”

While everyone watched with warm smiles, Hwang Suksu alone looked like he was dying inside.

“Hey. Since when did The Dark Den’s VIP room turn into a chick coop?”

“We’ll raise it here for a few days. There’s nowhere safer than this right now.”

At Kim Muhyuk’s calm reply, Hwang Suksu bristled and snapped.

“You’ve been saying the same thing for days! That tiny chick eats over two pounds of raw meat a day! At this rate, I’m going bankrupt!”

“Stop exaggerating. I know you hauled out a whole pile from the Sun and Moon Gate.”

Kim Muhyuk smirked as he looked at him, and Hwang Suksu—apparently out of comebacks—pouted.

Then Kim Bokja, stroking the baby Golden Winged Bird’s back, asked,

“So... what should we name it?”

Shin Kangheon shot his hand up first.

“Since it keeps going PYAAK-PYAAK, let’s name it Pyaak!”

PYAAK!

As if it understood, the Golden Winged Bird fluttered up and pecked Shin Kangheon right on the crown of his head.

“Ah! This little—seriously, you’re driving me nuts!”

PYAAK-PYAAK-PYAAK!

“Unbelievable.”

Even without that reaction, nobody gave the idea the slightest value.

“Ahem.”

Choi Geon cleared his throat, then—watching the younger ones’ faces—offered his opinion carefully.

“A name should carry a good meaning and a dignified charm. In that spirit... what about Invincible Immortal Phoenix?”

At the astonishingly childish naming, everyone either sighed or shook their heads.

“That’s a bit...”

“Master...”

“Oh? I think it’s great, sir!”

Choi Geon clicked his tongue, muttering that the young didn’t understand romance. He didn’t even spare Hwang Suksu—his only supporter—a glance.

“Apricot.”

Then, holding the baby Golden Winged Bird in both hands, Kim Bokja rubbed her cheek against its soft down.

“I’ll call you Apricot. Doesn’t your color look like a perfectly ripened apricot?”

Kim Bokja looked like she’d taken a real liking to it.

Watching her, everyone smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, not bad.”

“You basically brought it with you, so you should decide.”

“It’s not as good as Invincible Immortal Phoenix... but... heh, it is cute.”

And so the baby Golden Winged Bird became Apricot.

Apricot followed Kim Bokja the most, and it trailed after Hwang Suksu too, since he faithfully made sure it was fed.

At first, Hwang Suksu acted annoyed, but after a few days, the corners of his mouth started creeping up—and he even began preparing special meals.

Why is it only scared of me?

It got along fine with Shin Kangheon, who was built like a tank, and even with Choi Geon, whose presence was the sharpest of all... but whenever it got close to me, it seemed frightened.

“Apricot.”

Flinch.

At my low call, Apricot jolted, looked back—then scrambled away and planted itself beside the mother’s inner core resting on a cushion, crying at the top of its lungs.

PYAAAK—!

“...Does it think I’m going to steal the inner core?”

Of course I wasn’t. If I got greedy for the inner core of a Great Anomaly that even Jang Jinmyeong couldn’t handle, it was obvious what kind of end I’d meet.

“Wow. Even a Great Anomaly avoids the crazy ones.”

“Shut up.”

Every time Apricot scampered away from me, Shin Kangheon cackled and teased.

“Can’t you tell? It’s because your eyes are scary.”

“What’s wrong with my eyes?”

“Seriously, are those even human eyes? I get chills every time I see them in my dreams.”

“...Why am I in your dreams? That’s disgusting.”

“I hate it too, asshole. Stop showing up in my dreams swinging a sword like a lunatic, telling me to spar.”

Shin Kangheon shuddered like he couldn’t stand the thought, then walked up to Apricot and held out his hand.

And, loud enough for me to hear behind him, he said,

“Pyaak. Come here.”

PYAAK-PYAAK-PYAAK!

Unlike with me, Apricot took to Shin Kangheon just fine.

It hopped right onto his hand, sprinted up to his head in an instant, and started pecking the crown of his skull—tap tap tap—with [N O V E L I G H T] its beak.

The reaction wasn’t what he expected.

Shin Kangheon screamed.

“Ah! Aagh! Knock it off! You little—!”

Watching the two of them, I folded my arms and clicked my tongue.

“Better to be feared than to be seen as an easy mark like you.”

“Aaaagh! You tiny little—! Today I’m putting you in your place!”

“Shin Kangheon! What are you doing to Apricot?!”

Kim Bokja rushed in to stop him, but Shin Kangheon started tussling with Apricot anyway.

At the same time, flames bloomed at his fingertips.

FWOOSH!

PYAAAK!

To my eyes, it looked like the flames were the reason Apricot warmed up to him so fast.

The moment the fire rose, Apricot got even more excited, fluttering wildly.

I expected it... but yeah. It’s a perfect match.

What the Glacier Priestess had suggested to Shin Kangheon—

The Blazing-Yang Art, the signature martial art of the Sun and Moon Gate’s blazing-yang lineage.