The courtyard at the Assembly's heart was alive with noise. Murim elites gathered like storm clouds, their banners snapping in a shifting breeze. Duels had broken out all morning—some swift, some drawn-out, but none as devastating as the one that had just ended.
Baek Sun-Ho stood at the edge of the scorched dueling platform, his robes still smoking faintly. The lightning qi coursing beneath his skin was calm now, but only barely.
Across from him, Kang Mu-Jin of the Iron Wall Sect lay dazed, buried halfway into a cratered wall of shattered stone.
So-Ri exhaled slowly. "You didn't kill him."
"Didn't need to," Sun-Ho replied. "He wasn't trying to win. He was testing me."
Yul-Rin crouched beside the unconscious Mu-Jin. "He's still breathing. Bones cracked, pride shattered, ego probably gone."
"Then he might survive," Ji-Mun muttered. "Poor guy."
Ma-Rok leaned on his hammer. "That was satisfying. Next?"
Master Jang stepped into the courtyard, sipping tea from a cracked ceramic cup that had somehow survived the explosions. "I think we're done for today. The remaining heirs will wait. They'll want to study him longer before they step forward."
Sun-Ho nodded, eyes on the platform. "Good. I need to breathe."
As the crowd buzzed, shifting uneasily in the wake of his victory, Yeon tugged on Sun-Ho's sleeve. The boy handed him a torn piece of parchment.
One word was written in perfect script:
"Observer."
---
Later – Cliffside Pavilion
The team camped high above the Assembly, in a secluded pocket of forest near a sheer cliff.
"So," So-Ri said, arms crossed, "they're all scared now."
"They should be," Ji-Mun added. "Not every day a scholar blows apart a fortress wall with lightning."
Sun-Ho didn't answer. He stood a little apart, overlooking the valley. The wind pulled at his robe sleeves like invisible fingers.
Yul-Rin finished wrapping Ma-Rok's shoulder. "You okay?"
"Fine," he grunted. "Just caught a stray rock. From his lightning. Again."
Master Jang sipped his tea as if no conversation were happening. "Something's off."
Sun-Ho turned. "You feel it too."
"I've felt it for days. But now it stinks of memory. Of something not buried deep enough."
Yeon nodded solemnly, writing something in the dirt:
"Someone like you."
Sun-Ho felt his heart skip.
---
That Night – Atop the Watch Tower
The Assembly slept restlessly. Rumors of Sun-Ho's cultivation—of the dual element wielding, of lightning and flame—had spread too quickly. The nobles whispered, the elders frowned, and the spies ran out of ink trying to keep up.
In the shadows of a watchtower overlooking the valley, a man leaned against the railing.
He was tall. Wrapped in travel-worn robes of black and blue. His face was partially hidden behind a curved steel mask, but his eyes gleamed with intelligence—and weariness.
A younger sect scout approached him cautiously. "Sir… you're not on the roster. May I ask—"
The masked man raised a hand. A gentle flick of qi. The scout fell unconscious before he could cry out.
The man sighed. "Still too loud, aren't I?"
He turned his gaze to the Assembly below. His tone was soft—almost fond.
"Baek Sun-Ho… You really returned. I wasn't sure."
He lifted a pendant from around his neck—a jagged shard of silver etched with ancient runes.
"You're stronger than I was, back then. But have you changed?"
The wind replied with a distant crack of thunder.
---
Dawn – Path of First Contact
Sun-Ho awoke before the others. Something had stirred in the qi veins of the region. A slight shift—like the world inhaling.
He stood outside their tent and stretched, letting lightning crackle faintly across his arm.
Then he felt it.
A presence. Familiar. Wrong.
His breath caught.
So-Ri stepped out beside him, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Something up?"
He didn't answer at first. Then—
"I think an old friend is nearby."
"Friend?"
He shook his head. "That's just what we used to call each other."
---
Shortly After – The Encounter
At the edge of the forest near their camp, the mists shifted—and a figure emerged.
Clad in faded robes, the man walked like someone who had forgotten how to fear. Each step was silent, unhurried, yet filled with an unmistakable rhythm.
Sun-Ho stepped forward, eyes narrowing.
"You're real," he said.
The man nodded. "And you've changed, Baek Sun-Ho. The lightning suits you."
His voice was aged—not old, but ancient. Weathered by memory.
So-Ri tensed beside Sun-Ho. "Who—"
"It's fine," Sun-Ho murmured.
The masked man stopped a few paces away. "I go by Gwan-Ho now. But you knew me as Dan-Ryul, once."
Sun-Ho's expression didn't flinch, but his aura pulsed with sharp awareness.
Dan-Ryul. One of the last Grandmasters of the old rebellion. In his past life, they had fought side-by-side—and died worlds apart.
"I thought you died," Sun-Ho said.
"I did," Gwan-Ho replied. "But death isn't what it used to be."
Silence.
So-Ri looked between them. "You're both… from before?"
Gwan-Ho tilted his head. "Ah, so you haven't told them everything."
"She knows enough."
"I doubt that."
He took another step. "I didn't come to fight. Just to see. I've been watching since Gray Birch Pass. You've grown more than I expected."
"Why now?"
"Because the crownless flame is rising again," Gwan-Ho said. "And we're not the only ones returning. Murim is waking up. You think the corruption still sleeps?"
Sun-Ho's jaw tightened. "I'm not here to lead a rebellion. I want to change it from within."
"You think they'll let you?"
"I don't care what they let."
There was a beat.
Then Gwan-Ho smiled beneath the mask. "Good."
He turned. "You'll see me again, Baek Sun-Ho. When it matters most."
And just like that, he vanished into mist.
So-Ri exhaled shakily. "Was that a warning or a promise?"
Sun-Ho didn't answer immediately. He stared at the place where Gwan-Ho had stood.
Then quietly, he said, "Both."
---
End of Chapter 90 – The Man Beneath the Storm