Survival Guide for the Reincarnated

When Seol Unhwi dipped his head slightly, Seol Horyeong sent a voice transmission.

-Our youngest, are you disappointed I came in Father’s place?

A reply came at once.

-Of course not. Because my eldest brother is here as the young Palace Lord of Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Palace, this place shines even brighter. If Father had come, a different problem might have arisen. I want to thank you once ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) again, eldest brother.

...Calling it impressive was not enough.

How had he grown up to be this dependable?

When he had done nothing for him as an older brother.

From the hidden realm of Shaolin onward, Seol Horyeong had thought he carried a debt of the heart to Seol Unhwi.

-When are you coming to the Snow Palace?

-My work here is not finished yet.

-You are coming, right?

Seol Unhwi smiled faintly.

-Of course. Wherever I am, my heart always faces the Snow Palace. I am only taking a short detour through other places.

Seol Horyeong nodded.

Was he not already producing results?

Worry was meaningless.

That was when it happened.

“The Flame King enters!”

The herald’s thunderous cry filled the plaza.

Everyone’s gaze turned toward the rear of the platform.

Flame King Hwa Munyeom walked out slowly, wearing a black robe embroidered with a dragon pattern in gold thread.

His stride was still proud, but faint traces remained of the wounds he had taken in the recent life-and-death battle with Shin Jueon.

But they could not diminish his authority.

Rather, those scars were like medals proving that he was a martial artist who had personally broken through the Gold-Dust Ablution Rite and returned to the martial world.

When Flame King Hwa Munyeom sat in the Alliance Lord’s seat atop the platform, hundreds of martial artists offered a salute in unison.

“We greet the Alliance Lord of the Heavenly Alliance!”

The booming greeting shook the heavens.

Flame King Hwa Munyeom raised a hand to bring silence, then opened his mouth.

“I would like to offer my thanks to everyone who has attended today.”

His voice, carried on inner power, reached every corner of the plaza with perfect clarity.

“The Heavenly Alliance, which has arrived at a new turning point, will strive even harder for the peace and order of the martial world. And to all of you who have honored this occasion, I offer my thanks once again.”

Seol Unhwi watched Flame King Hwa Munyeom begin his speech in silence.

They were formal lines.

The declaration that they would establish order in the martial world, pursue the path as martial artists, and in the process embrace everything—whether it was the orthodox path or the unorthodox path, and whether it was the tyrant path or the demon path—made everyone flinch for a moment, but that was only natural.

The path the Heavenly Alliance walked had to be different from the path the Martial Alliance or the Sichuan Alliance walked. If it were the same, there would be no reason for the Four Demon Sects to join.

Everyone, including King Unmu of Un Kingdom, listened carefully to Flame King Hwa Munyeom’s words.

And then the declaration ended.

Moyong Namcheon rose from his seat and offered a salute.

“On behalf of the Sichuan Alliance, I congratulate the Flame King on his return. I hope that the friendship between the Sichuan Alliance and the Heavenly Alliance will deepen even further.”

Beyond the surface congratulations, his words carried a subtle meaning of restraint.

The Heavenly Alliance’s meteoric rise was undeniable, but it also meant the Sichuan Alliance was not an easy opponent.

Jegal Yeonghyeon rose next.

“The Martial Alliance as well congratulates the Heavenly Alliance on its new beginning. I hope we will work together for the peace of the martial world.”

His tone was gentler than Moyong Namcheon’s, but the meaning within was similar.

Seol Horyeong rose as well and spoke.

“Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Palace also prays for the Heavenly Alliance’s prosperity.”

It was a brief greeting, but his attitude plainly revealed the aloof dignity of Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Palace.

The sect masters of the Five Sword Sects and the Four Demon Sects offered their congratulations one after another. Each spoke in a way that matched their own character, but in common, their words carried a subtle balance: acknowledging the Heavenly Alliance while refusing to lose their own standing.

After receiving all the congratulations, Flame King Hwa Munyeom spoke again.

“Now that I have become the Alliance Lord of the Heavenly Alliance, I will do my utmost for the peace of the martial world. But in that process, if there are those who challenge us...”

His voice turned colder.

“The Heavenly Alliance will never retreat.”

With those words, the air in the plaza shifted subtly. In an instant, the celebratory mood became tension.

That was when it happened.

Seol Unhwi slowly rose from his seat.

At that moment, every gaze in the plaza focused on him. At this auspicious gathering, Seol Unhwi’s name could not be absent. Flame King Hwa Munyeom tried to speak, but could not.

Why had Seol Unhwi stood?

To draw attention? No. Nothing of the sort.

He had read an aura that made standing unavoidable.

Then Flame King Hwa Munyeom and everyone nearby, sensing it as well, shut their mouths.

Kuuuung.

With a subtle reverberation, the surrounding air grew heavy.

An oppressive pressure, as if an enormous mountain were descending from the sky, covered the entire plaza.

The sect masters of the Five Sword Sects froze in place.

Shin Gang unconsciously lifted a hand to his sword hilt, and Cheon Yeongho paled as he looked around.

Eum Museon bit his lip, trying to grasp the nature of this aura, and the Bluecloud Daoist steadied his mind and focused. Seong Mujin released killing intent and took up a guarded stance.

The sect masters of the Four Demon Sects were the same, and so was Moyong Namcheon of the Sichuan Alliance, and so was Jegal Yeonghyeon.

Seol Horyeong’s usual arrogance vanished completely, and he swept the area with wary eyes.

Even Flame King Hwa Munyeom, today’s central figure, tensed his body atop the platform.

Everyone felt it.

The momentum of one who had climbed to the heavens.

No-Extremes Incarnation. The overwhelming aura that only an absolute powerhouse—one who had reached the highest level of the Realm of Martial Divinity—could release.

And yet it was strange.

While everyone was being crushed by this aura, only one person maintained a calm expression.

It was Seol Unhwi.

Seol Unhwi slowly turned his head.

A man was walking into the plaza.

With long black hair fluttering, he looked extremely gentle.

To be honest, it did not quite make sense.

From what Seol Unhwi had experienced in his previous life, this was a man who would stay behind in situations like this.

Not only that—he was someone who did not raise his voice in any matter great or small, and drew his sword only when necessary. To what extent? Even when the Original Blood Cult united the martial world, he barely moved.

All he did was take the heads of a handful of Unity of Heaven and Man level martial artists.

But this appearance now—this atmosphere, this control—was something even Seol Unhwi was seeing for the first time.

Seol Unhwi watched him quietly, and the eyes of the man approaching were also fixed on Seol Unhwi.

Seol Unhwi had read his momentum first partly because Seol Unhwi was exceptional, but also because that momentum was focused on Seol Unhwi.

It was certain.

He clearly had no interest whatsoever in everyone else seated around them.

That emptiness in his sharply slit eyes.

A mind so unfathomable it could not be read at all.

Yucheong, Vice Cult Leader of the Original Blood Cult.

As Yucheong cut through the crowd, people naturally parted to make way.

No—there was no choice but to part. The aura pouring off him was far too dangerous.

Yucheong walked up to the front of the platform and stopped before Seol Unhwi.

No courtesy passed between the two.

No salute, no greeting, nothing formal at all.

They simply stared at each other in silence.

All the air around them sank. The heat of celebration vanished completely, leaving only a blade-sharp tension behind.

“It is our first meeting. I am Yucheong.”

***

The moment the two men faced each other, the plaza’s air froze solid.

Yucheong’s long black hair swayed in the faint breeze, and even the way he clasped his hands behind his back looked elegant, like watching a sword dance.

But the emptiness held in his sharply slit eyes was not something just anyone could easily read. Like a deep pond, it was quiet, and yet beneath it hid a depth beyond measure.

Seol Unhwi still looked at him with an unruffled expression.

A momentum quite different from Yucheong’s usual gentle and quiet presence was flowing from him.

Like a famed sword drawn halfway from its scabbard, its sharpness was faintly revealed.

There was nothing newly striking about it.

As a reincarnator, Seol Unhwi had tried, whenever possible, not to force the grudges of his previous life onto this life.

Even so, there were grudges that could not help but become entangled.

Yucheong before his eyes—this was the very grudge that began with this man.

There was no need to go far. If one only pointed to Yang Seoljin of Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Palace, that alone could explain everything.

From Yucheong’s side, it was the same.

Because of Seol Unhwi, he had lost many things.

Where had that Flame King over there originally been?

In the Mukse Society. And that Mukse Society had been Yucheong’s.

And what became of Yang Seoljin? Dead. He had been Yucheong’s disciple and confidant.

And what became of Cheonrim?

It had been folded, brazenly, under the Heavenly Alliance.

At this point, it was a situation that was no different from going beyond a blood-feud enemy.

The hundreds of martial artists around them could barely even breathe.

Because the collision of aura flowing between the two men was pressing down on their organs.

The sect masters of the Five Sword Sects and the heads of the Four Demon Sects all watched the two men with faces full of interest.

To their eyes, this situation was exceedingly strange.

Flame King Hwa Munyeom atop the platform was no exception.

An invitation asking them to attend the Heavenly Alliance’s event had certainly been delivered to the Original Blood Cult as well.

But since no one had come, he had assumed that was that—only for this to happen. It was truly unexpected.

Yucheong.

...I never imagined he would reveal himself in person.

Unable to hide his fluster, Flame King Hwa Munyeom cleared his throat inwardly and maintained as calm a face as he could.

Neither Yucheong nor Seol Unhwi was the kind of man to cause trouble in a formal setting like this.

After sweeping his gaze around, Yucheong slowly opened his mouth.

“It is our first meeting, yet strangely it feels like I am meeting someone I have known for a long time.”

His voice was gentle.

It carried a natural friendliness, as if he were chatting with an old friend. But there were not many who could sense the sharpness hidden behind that gentleness.

Seol Unhwi gave a slight nod.

“I feel the same, Preceptor Yoo.”

At that form of address, a few people in the crowd faintly twitched their brows.

Who was Seol Unhwi? The man who had raised the Heavenly Alliance into one of the Central Plains’ three great powers, and one of the most influential figures in the martial world.

Seeing him show such courtesy was not something one could easily witness.

A soft smile brushed across Yucheong’s lips.

“What you have done is truly remarkable. I have been buried in the mountains, so I could only admire your might through writing, but seeing you in person, you truly are remarkable.”

There was a reason he was called a Demon-Path Preceptor.

He was genuinely polite. Much like Gun Mugyeol of the Martial Alliance.

No matter who it was, if it was their first meeting, it was his habit to raise his speech.

Even though he stood at No-Extremes Incarnation, that did not change.