The fortress interior had changed.
Since Sun-Ho's quiet victory in the Assembly and his silent, near-effortless defeat of elite challengers, the atmosphere shifted like a tide under the moon. Whispers no longer carried amusement—they carried weight, fear, strategy.
No grand announcements had followed his battles. No sect had publicly offered alliance. And yet, the direction of the wind had clearly changed.
In a courtyard garden that once bloomed with violet night orchids, a group of disciples walked carefully, casting wary glances toward the eastern wing. That was where Baek Sun-Ho trained. That was where the quiet storms gathered.
Inside one of the compound's old towers, Sun-Ho stood motionless in front of a training post. Not to strike it—but to listen. His palm hovered an inch from the wood.
Fzzzt—
A faint arc of lightning snapped across his fingers.
The wood blackened slightly, but Sun-Ho didn't flinch.
Behind him, So-Ri leaned against a pillar, watching.
"You're pushing harder than usual."
He nodded, breathing slowly. "I need to know how to channel lightning without leaking it."
"Noticed your control slipping?"
"Only when I'm angry."
So-Ri smiled faintly. "That's not weakness, you know. It's honesty."
Sun-Ho lowered his hand. "The people plotting behind the scenes aren't honest."
"No. But they fear you now."
He looked toward the open sky. "They fear what I could become. And that's more dangerous."
---
Deep Below – The Hidden Chamber
Far beneath the fortress, past sealed gates and forgotten staircases, a chamber stirred with old incense and low voices.
The True Hands—an ancient shadow cabal made of elites from once-great sects—met around a six-sided stone table veined with red jade.
A woman from Cold Steel Sect broke the silence first. "Assassination failed."
The others didn't react. They already knew.
The elder from the Northern Ink Sect, face hidden behind a lion-shaped mask, set down a stone seal. "Three operatives dead. One turned into ash. And no trace left of the encounter."
"His message was clear," the man in Court robes said, voice like velvet soaked in poison. "He's not hiding anymore."
Another spoke—this one representing the Black Petal Society. "His aura has matured. I saw him walk through a formation that should've paralyzed him. He smiled."
"Not only strong," Cold Steel murmured. "Balanced. Disciplined."
The Court man scowled. "He's reached the Grandmaster Realm too quickly."
The elder in the lion mask stirred. "Worse. He's adapting as if he's been here before."
The Black Petal member leaned forward. "You think he's a reincarnation?"
The table fell silent.
Then: "His blade techniques. His mastery of fire and lightning. The way he speaks of peace, like a man who watched his world burn. Either he is a vessel… or he remembers."
"Then," the Cold Steel woman said carefully, "we test him."
The lion-masked elder nodded. "The Echo still exists."
Someone gasped. "You would unseal the Forgotten Blade's echo? After all these years?"
"He must face what he was," the elder said coldly. "Only then will we know if he's worthy… or dangerous."
---
Elsewhere – Quiet Thunder
Yeon sat on a stone slab near the training hall, head down, doodling in a half-charred notebook. Ma-Rok paced nearby, smashing a small log with each step, muttering about Ji-Mun's cooking giving him nightmares.
Ji-Mun, for his part, stood on one leg, balancing a teacup while reciting poetry to Yul-Rin. She responded by throwing harmless darts at him every time he rhymed "fire" with "desire."
"You think it's funny?" he yelped.
"No," Yul-Rin replied. "I think it's bad poetry."
So-Ri emerged from the side hall and gestured for silence. Sun-Ho followed behind, face unreadable.
Ma-Rok looked up. "What's wrong?"
"Someone is moving in the shadows," Sun-Ho said. "Subtle, patient… but not invisible."
Yul-Rin crossed her arms. "Assassins?"
"No. Architects."
"Of what?" Ji-Mun asked.
"Collapse," Sun-Ho said softly. "Ours, theirs, all of Murim if necessary."
Master Jang finally joined them, sipping warm tea.
"I remember that scent," he said. "Old incense. Lion-root and burnleaf. Used by a council that was supposedly disbanded fifty years ago."
Sun-Ho's eyes narrowed. "So they still exist."
The master sipped again. "Did you ever doubt it?"
"No."
---
Later – Hall of Ancients
The group stood before an ancient mural inside the Hall of Ancients. Firelight danced across the carvings—depicting a man surrounded by five elemental beasts, each chained, each roaring.
Sun-Ho reached out and touched the stone depiction of the lightning serpent.
"I saw this in a dream. Or maybe a memory."
So-Ri stepped beside him. "The same past again?"
He nodded.
Master Jang looked at the wall solemnly. "This mural predates the Murim Alliance. The Sovereign of Balance—your old name—was real. But he disappeared before he could finish uniting the five elements."
"And now?" Ji-Mun asked.
Sun-Ho turned toward the wall and whispered, "Now he's returning."
---
End of Chapter 109 – Whispers Beneath the Throne